Disclaimer
Nothing here belongs to me except the AU storyline and my characters. I am not making nor do I intend to make any profit whatsoever from this, so PLEASE DON'T SUE ME!
MANDALORE THE REVIVER (SI)
Chapter 2 -or- GREAT SCOTT! Yeah, I know, this is heavy! :
Corsca Galaxy – Secret Lab/ Clone facility, Still no idea exactly when
It had been one hell of a first day. Travis and I spent several hours, uninterrupted, talking and catching up. (It had been ten years since we'd met up or exchanged anything more meaningful than a short text.) Then, when it could no longer be avoided, we directed our attention and questions to our present reality. However, questions such as 'Why were we brought here?' and 'Why us?' Travis and I shrugged off as soon as they popped into our heads. The answers to those questions were as easy as they were maddening: 'Fucking Q, who the hell knows.'
Other questions, such as 'where were we, why hadn't we seen any other living being since waking, who was in charge and what was expected of us' however, were indeed questions we may have been able to get the answers to. Travis and I waited, while catching up with each other, for someone to come and direct or inform us of… something… Some kind of information or input, even a 'This way.' Would have been welcome by that point. The longer we waited, the more eerily certain we were that no one was going to come… ever.
Finally, it became apparent that if no one was coming to offer us information or answers, we'd have to hunt them down ourselves. So, we went to the only readily available sources of info in the room: the droids. The floating medical droid-balls were a waste of effort. While they seemed chatty, all we could get out of them were the 'beeps' and 'boops' of that Binary Droid Language thing they did. The next droid we tried was one I remember from the original Star Wars trilogy. Spindly arms and legs, a clear torso and a chest and head made of some blue-green painted metal. The eyes recessed and mouth and nose area covered by a grill that reminded me of an old-style microphone all came together to give the droid a Death's Head look, which I thought ironic as they were designed to save lives and not take them. But, hey, Star Wars.
The 2-1B Medical Droid, as it had introduced itself, wasn't very helpful on its own (it knew its job and that was pretty much it) but it was nice enough to summon the nearest protocol droid to assist us and hopefully answer some questions. The one that arrived wasn't exactly a 3P0 model. While the body design was very similar, the differences were noticeable. The carapace was a shiny, glossy black but the major difference was the droid's head: the face was elongated into a triangular vocorder rather than a mouth-like opening with overlarge, curved and tinted eye shields that covered its photoreceptors. In a female voice, the droid introduced herself as 4D6-J-A7.
She turned out to be a bitchy, superior and snooty droid who insisted that we use her full designation when we addressed her. Naturally, Travis and I decided to call her 'Jaz' and proceeded to use that nickname at every opportunity when speaking to her. By the end of our Q and A session, Jaz's chassis lock up and sparks and smoke started to pour out of her while she mumbled in Binary. (Could have been gibberish, how could we tell?) Eventually, two maintenance droids came and carted her off.
What can I say?
We did it for the LULZ.
So, there we were, stretched out in opposite bunks, legs crossed at the ankles and the backs of our heads pillowed in our hands in what was obviously a large barracks (There were other accommodations available to us but at that point we were too tired to seek them out.) discussing what we'd learned from Jaz before gleefully driving her into the droid version of insanity. Needless to say, we were still processing.
"Okay," Travis began, breaking the silence we had been in since before finding the barracks and our bunks for the night. "according to that uppity droid, most of your theories seem to hold true. We're in one of Palpatine's secret research bases. Someplace called Mt. Tantus where he grew us as Super-Secret Special Apprentice Clones of Galen Marek aka Starkiller. The Base is currently empty of all living personnel at the moment and they've received no communications since the Emperor's death, yet…"
"Yet…" I inject, "somehow, this facility receives orders and authorizations…"
"Cough, cough, Q! Cough, cough!" Travis slyly slips in.
I turned my head to the left and smirked at my BFF before continuing, "Yes, no doubt you're right, anyway…" I went on to continue my previous train of thought, "Mysterious Q-like orders and authorizations received, we are… decanted, I guess is the right word, and… uploaded… with a decent education and life experiences."
Travis barked out a laugh at that. "Life experiences, no SHIT! I'm still trying to wrap my head around that! I know how to do stuff; I remember doing them but I don't at the same time. If I didn't already know what was going on, I'd be climbing the walls screaming! As it is, it's like a tiny itch in my brain I can't scratch." He gulped in a deep breath, held it for a moment and let it out slowly while sighing, "This is so fucked up on so many levels…"
"Heh, yeah, I definitely feel that." I replied, meaning it in both the metaphorical and literal sense. For a brief moment I wondered if his last statement was alluding to the separation from his family. For another moment I wondered if I should bring it up. He hadn't spoken of it since our initial conversation after waking up. But the moments passed and I decided to leave that topic be until Travis chose to bring it up. It would probably be easier for him to adjust to our current situation if he wasn't focusing on who and what he'd left behind.
"Still, there are upsides to this whole situation…" burying my previous thoughts deep, I continued the conversation, "For example, despite everything that got crammed into our heads, we're not brainwashed, we have PHENOMINAL COSMIC POWERS!," I boomed out in an overly dramatic voice while bringing my hands from behind my head and waving them about grandly causing Travis to grin and snort at my antics, before I went on in a much more serious voice, "but, most importantly, we seem to be caught in a 'command Loophole'. We're not members of the Empire, nor do we have any sort of rank or position but at the same time, since we are of this facility and the only humans on site, we are, in effect, the highest-ranking staff here. At least until more actual staff arrive." I finish with a shrug.
"Yes, until they arrive," Travis says with narrowed eyes and a worried voice, "Which could be at any time."
"I wouldn't be so sure." I replied thoughtfully, "I get the feeling this place hasn't been staffed for a while, which leads me to think that it isn't going to see any new staff for a while as well."
After which, the conversation stalled and a comfortable silence fell between us again as we both contemplated what was said.
"Hhmmph… Mabey." Travis finally replied, his voice heavy with impending sleep.
"Get some sleep, dude." I said quietly, "I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be as big a day as this one was." But he was already out.
I, however, was wide awake, my mind still chugging along at full speed. We needed a plan. Or, at least, the beginnings of a plan. To my mind, there were three things we needed to do, to master, before we could truly move forward… in any direction: We needed to figure out what we knew, what skills we had in this new reality and we needed to gain proficiency in using them. We needed to get used to our new bodies, what they could do and what their limits were. We definitely needed to figure out our Force powers. We had knowledge, skills and experiences for those crammed into our heads as well but we had to use them, stretch those powers and fine tune our control… and… possibly more.
I had an idea I wanted to try. Something that occurred to me at some point while I was reading all those Star Wars Fanfiction: Using the Force to enhance one's recall or memory. Because METAKNOWLEDGE Bitches! But I sure as SHIT wasn't going to try that until I had some actual, physical experience using the Force. As I lay there, in that cool, dark barracks, I went through many amorphous ideas about how to accomplish those three goals. Eventually, sleep claimed me too but just before I fell into its depths, I had one last clear thought: Tomorrow we are going to find some FUCKING CLOTHES!
oo00oo
By the next morning, any real plans were still beyond me, however, I had determined the goals Travis and I needed to reach so that plans could be made. Those goals were to acclimate to: Our new knowledge and skills, our new bodies, the Force powers that came with them and the life experiences that were downloaded into us along with everything else. Before all that, though, I was so tired of wearing nothing more than a sheet around my waist, I didn't care how badass my abs looked. At this point you all probably think it's some droid conspiracy or something but the sad truth is, what with everything going on… well… we forgot to ask. Don't judge me! The need for information was more important than our need for a pair of pants!
I am embarrassed to say that find a solution to the clothing issue was so much easier than I had assumed it would be. After a much-appreciated session in the barrack's refresher, Travis and I went looking for the nearest protocol droid. The one we found this time was a much more familiar 3P0 series droid, this one in a sort of brushed silver carapace with a delicate male voice that spoke with a Midwestern accent. With a polite request as to where we could find some friggin clothes, it very helpfully led us to the facility's Quartermaster's Storeroom and showed us how to access the large storage lockers and lockboxes that contained what we needed.
We ended up walking out of there about a half hour later in various forms of a black imperial tie fighter pilot's flight suit. I chose to wear the full uniform with the tunic flap half open and the sleeves of both the tunic and undershirt rolled up to just below my elbows. Travis went for a more relaxed look: The top part of the flight suit was rolled down and tied around his waist, exposing the short sleeved, gray undershirt. Both our outfits came with tall, black uniform boots. Travis wore his suits pant legs over the boot while I wore mine tucked into them. We both carried a duffle bag each with more of the same plus a blaster and holster with belt which we decided not to wear yet until we had practiced with them so as not to accidentally shoot off one or another valued piece of our anatomy.
When we all left the storeroom, the very helpful 3P0 droid that Travis and I had dubbed 'Jarvis' (Any MCU fan will see the similarities, I'm sure.) led us, not back to the barracks as I'd assumed he would but to another part of the facility altogether. Due to our 'loophole' status, Jarvis' directives dictated that we rated at least a shared officer's accommodations! Yep, definitely liked that one. And he didn't even mind when we started calling him Jarvis!
The area where our new quarters were could only be called 'Officer's Country'. Why? Because it had Officer's everything: Officer's Mess, Officer's Gym, Officer's Sauna… You get my drift. Naturally, Jarvis showed us where all the good stuff was. It was getting on towards lunch and with us having not eaten in we didn't know how long, Travis and I decided to hit the Mess in the hopes that the kitchen had something we could identify with enough to slap together a meal. In this instance, luck was more than on our side.
As we walked into the Officer's Mess, and aroma hit our senses that was so mouthwatering (keep in mind that these bodies of ours hadn't ever eaten anything before so anything would have smelled good to us at that point) that our stomachs began trying to throttle our backbones! It seemed the rest of the facilities' droid had learned of our presence and loophole status there and decided to make us feel welcome if the ones working furiously behind the serving counter to prepare our food were any indication. After thanking the kitchen droids profusely, (At least on my part. Travis had been kinda quiet all morning, no doubt still trying to come to grips with being separated from his family in such a way that without the grace of Q, he probably would never see them again. I continued to maintain my silence on the subject. When he was ready, he would talk about it.) We took our meals to a table and dug in like a pack of ravenous hyenas.
To this day, I have no idea what we were eating but we went back for seconds, thirds and fourths.
Finally, we both pushed our plates away in a silent declaration of, 'Enough' and sat back in our plush dining chairs, basking in the afterglow of a full belly. One of the kitchen droids came out and cleared our table as we sat there staring silently off into space. A few minutes after, Travis broke his silence for the first time that day.
"Well, what now?" He asked in a quiet but inquisitive voice. This was good. It meant he wasn't withdrawing into himself… Yet.
"Whelp," I began while leaning back in the chair and folding my hands behind my head, "The way I see it, we can't really make any real plans yet. We just don't know enough about our situation or even ourselves, at the moment, to be able to make any kind of realistic plans. But!" I said, releasing my right hand from behind my head for a second and holding up a finger in exclamation, "Last night, before I went to sleep, I came up with some goals we need to reach. We do that, then we can make plans."
"Okay, Aaron, what goals?" Travis asked, crooking and eyebrow at me.
"Three goals." I said, holding up my right hand again with the last three fingers extended up. "We need to get a handle on the knowledge and experiences that we were uploaded with, which, actually, we've already started doing. Also, we need to get accustomed to our new bodies, what they can do and their limits. Not just the limits our stomachs can extend!" I grin while patting my own happily full belly as Travis gives a small laugh. "Finally, we need to become comfortable and proficient with our Force powers. I would like save that for last though as using them would come under the 'knowledge and experiences' thing."
I let that sink in for a few silent moment before I lobbed the verbal 'ball' into his court with a, "What do you think?"
Travis sat for a bit, his eyes distant as he thought about it all before he simply said, "how do we start?"
I opened my mouth to tell him but then closed it when a worrying thought occurred to me.
"Travis," I said hesitantly, "I notice that I've been making most of the decisions since we… woke up. Are you…"
"Aaron, chill." Travis cut in quickly. "You and I both know that I've been struggling to… deal with… everything." He said while waving his hands around vaguely, still unable to articulate, though it was obvious, that the 'everything' was the loss of his family.
"In all honesty, I'm glad… and grateful… that you've been taking charge. Your pushing us forward keeps me from just thinking about… my situation." Travis managed that last reference in a stead and almost calm voice.
"Okaaay, if you're sure…" I said, tilting my head at a slight angle and giving him a concerned face.
"I'm sure." He said, confidently. "Now, how are we going to accomplish the goals?"
Now secure that I wasn't overstepping with him, I gave him a sly grin and said, "The same way we've dealt with everything since we opened our eye to this mishigas, we use the droids!"
oo00oo
And so we did. Surprisingly, most of it went a lot faster than I thought it would. I forgot, or really, because I never played The Force Unleashed game, it didn't occur to me that the type of flash training used on the Starkiller clones specifically were designed to have him ready for deployment, or whatever use they chose to put him to, as rapidly as possible. There was no studying involved as what we actually needed was to consciously use the knowledge and skills so as to create the neural pathways needed to make accessing it faster and easier.
To that end, I simply had Jarvis and any other droids he recommended comb through the cloning facility's database for the list of subjects, experiences and skills that were transferred in to flash training and test us on those.
For the next month, the schedule we subjected ourselves to was hell:
Morning: Wake, Refresher, Breakfast
Six Hours: Subject Examinations, Experiences Review, Skills Practicals
Afternoon: Light lunch, Forty-Five Minute Rest Period
Four Hours: Exercise, Gymnastics, Combat Training
Evening: Dinner, Free time (for the first two weeks)
After the first two weeks we added:
Four Hours: Meditation, Force Training
You're probably wondering, "Why so much, so fast?" Think about it. We're given strong, young, powerful bodies, in a fully loaded, top of the line Imperial facility with a complete lack of any living, hostile, Imperial presence, staffed by eager, helpful droids that considered our unique status a loophole granting Travis and I a certain amount of command authority. Nobody was trying to shoot us, nobody was trying to blow us up.
To my thinking, that kind of cosmically good luck could have only happened one of two ways: Either it really was just cosmically good luck and that kind of luck never lasts very long. OR… It was a kind of Beginner's starter gift package from our Favorite Omnipotent Being Q. If it was indeed Q, then if we took too long to get started, he would get bored. And a bored Q tends to do such fun things as: Introduce a peace-loving people to the Borg. Torture, I mean play with crystalline life forms, rewrite personal histories or cause or incite Continuum wide wars.
So, either way, if we didn't push ourselves and get ourselves out of the 'starter village safe zone' We seemed to have found ourselves in, it was a safe bet that something big, bad, and bloody would pop up to motivate us.