A/N:
I did it?
I did it!
I GOT A CHAPTER OUT AFTER MONTHS OF BURNOUT :D
Cat's Paw definition: a person who is used by another to carry out an unpleasant or dangerous task...
Just because SAC-1 was a trained undercover agent, that did not mean she was immune to a racing mind. The lack of control she had over her own life developed a great fear of the unknown, which was just another undesirable chink in this flawless experiment.
SAC-1's gut instinct... Or was it her anxiety voice... Something told her this all had to do with Nala Se. This was Convor, nick-named after the sneaky domesticated bird species, who watched and waited for the perfect opportunities to defend themselves and their allies from crafty predators, in this unique circumstance known as the Kaminoan race. In the brief times they'd spent time together, he'd succeeded lots of times:
- Allowing Talla's squadron to sneak real food and drink into her hospital room even though she was supposed to be monitored.
- Allowing them to camp out in Crosshair's room at Kaliida Shoals even though it was against regulation.
- Allowing her to fake a relapse with her cortosis poisoning to stay close to Crosshair, even though it'd probably cost him his livelihood.
It was all terribly, terribly wrong, yet Convor's flawless success rate couldn't be denied. So the only thing that could possibly scare this fearless survivor was that, despite this success, he was about to become the prey in this little game. Those veiled threats of ruining things for the Republic (Kaminoans) and suffering repercussions were never a bluff, SAC-1 always knew that, but perhaps she was about to see it in action.
For reasons not yet explained to her yet, SAC-1 was chilled to the core with dread.
But she managed to keep her lips zipped shut, and she managed to not chase after Convor and beg for answers, remaining frozen in place when he disappeared into the lunch hour flux of people. Now was definitely not the time for the Clone Agent to screw up, as hard as it was to not let her questions spill forth like the Cloudshape Falls on Alderaan. Her motivation to not cause the frightened Clone Medic any more trouble than he was in, in turn gave SAC-1 the strength to resist.
Though one of her burning questions was: 'Do I help him outta this scrape, or ensure he's brought to justice to make sure nothing puts me and my boys on the radar?' Her skin crawled. 'Son of a bantha, thought I was over this existential crisis.'
Muscle memory got her back into the shop without accidentally plummeting off the sidewalk's edge, though a part of SAC-1 wanted to - a quick death on impact would be mercy compared to what Nala Se could put her through for not acquiescing to her demands. That was one immediate theory coming to the forefront of her mind for this emergency 79's rendezvous.
This was the first time the female clone regretted learning what regular people labeled as 'love,' and all the various forms she'd experienced: platonic, familial, and romantic. As the day dragged on, SAC-1 was beginning to think these 'normal aspects of life' were stupid to dabble in, and she felt weak for giving in to the temptations only suitable for someone with a less complicated lifestyle as hers. SAC-1 was created to complete missions for the Republic, not become a found family with fellow soldiers, not befriend civilians, or be in a kriffin' romantic relationship with the kriffin' Sergeant of her kriffin' squadron.
A small, naive part of Talla foolishly hoped she was overreacting.
The years of training pummeled into her for this exact, high-pressure scenario got SAC-1 through the rest of the long workday. Was she proud that, when interacting with her Sergeant and Nik during the lunch hour, she could easily fake a smile, nod, laugh at the right times, and neither was none the wiser? At this moment in time, yes. But the sounds of her own laughter or voice were hollow to SAC-1's ears, and only once did she bravely look at her own reflection, when the lunch break trio claimed a table at a popular food stand. The lying, conniving stranger looking back at Talla from the reflective surface of the tin napkin holder absolutely terrified her. She wondered how many showers would be needed to wash off these dirty feelings, or how intoxicated she'd have to get to numb away the sharp gnaws of her conscience that had been developing since joining Clone Force 99.
Because to his credit, at lunch Hunter did pick up on the loss of sparkle in Talla's eyes, the tensity of her body. When Nik went to use the refresher, Hunter brushed his fingers over hers gripping the seat's edge, and he quietly asked her if something was the matter.
She didn't have to fake that grimace in response. "Yeah, my shoulder's just actin' up." But Talla wasn't proud that in this moment she could lie straight through her teeth without batting an eye. Hunter bought this excuse, actually lifted her hand away from the seat to press his lips on the top of her cold hand. Hearing the word 'Impostor' mentally berate her made Talla's heart flutter, which Hunter mistook for his outgoing act of affection.
But what Hunter couldn't sense was the ache of odd guilt. His girlfriend felt she didn't deserve how his eyes lit up in admiration for her, nor how he communicated comfort in this physically affectionate way being tested out.
She had lied to him.
Unlike with sparing Hunter and his brother's feelings with the cruelness about their true purpose, Talla holding back from telling her person what was bothering her and the possibility they were all in danger, when they told each other everything, that added an ache of loneliness and betrayal on top of everything else.
Talla discovered that this sort of lying felt wrong.
But SAC-1 needed to get the job done.
It had only been a few times Padawan Tano had been summoned to the High Council Chamber. An even sparser phenomenon: being summoned without Master Skywalker.
The difference was that the first time, at fourteen years old, was the only time since becoming a Padawan that she was without her Master, and that was because she was being assigned a Master. Ahsoka half-wondered if the Council were going to say she was ready for the trials and would no longer require guidance from a Master, but that had to be unlikely because that would require Anakin's recommendation, and he wasn't present. Nor had he ever brought it up. Naturally, the other half of Ahsoka feared she was about to be reassigned to a different teacher. Word gets around the temple, how attached Anakin was to her even though this was supposed to help him learn to let go, and there was a back burner scenario Ahsoka suffered a churning gut with from time to time - that they'd be prematurely separated. One of the few things Ahsoka could clearly remember during the time on Mortis all those months ago was how tightly Anakin had embraced her, after she'd apparently been left for dead but was healed back to life by the one they called Daughter. Anakin had never so openly done something like that before.
The thing was, from Ahsoka's perspective it was Anakin's concern for her safety that made him such a great teacher. Ahsoka felt she wouldn't be as skilled in lightsaber combat if he wasn't constantly coming up with these worst-case scenario simulations, nor would she be so intuitive without Anakin's bestowing upon her his vast knowledge of wily Separatist thugs, gathered during his early life as a slave on Tatooine. Anakin's unique, creative teaching style and overworking imagination made herself, in turn, great. Did he annoy her sometimes, yeah, but he meant well, and he unfortunately had demons of the past still having him in a choke hold.
This was the defense Ahsoka prepared while journeying to the Council Chamber with head held high, face serene, at least fooling the clone troopers roaming the Hanger Bay whom as she made her exit. They stopped whatever project to respectfully salute her. And the decorated ARC Trooper at her right side. Yet another layer of confusion to the growing mountain of questions and theories.
Captain Rex was just as confused about being summoned to the Chambers alongside Commander Tano. He wasn't sure if there had ever been other clones before him who, dirty boots, armor, weapons, mind and all, trudged beyond the Temple Hanger and up into such a massive, sacred fortress for their great Jedi leaders. Granted, when they got the summons to journey there as soon as they'd returned from Onderon, Rex supplicated Ahsoka to help him clean his armor of all grime until he was practically a shiny again, save for the many scuffs and scratches he refused to buff out for mere sentimentality. While they cleaned, he also requested a briefing on how to interact with the best of the best in the Jedi Order in such a holy place. It was one thing to interact with a visiting General to their humble base on a random war-torn planet - his turf - but Rex did not want to make the mistake of, for example, speaking up when it might not be wanted in this formal meeting. That he had no idea what it was for. Or why General Skywalker was not a part of it.
Rex felt so small and out of place walking through these pristine, high ceiling hallways, lined with colossal pillars and bronzium statues of powerful Jedi. The strange hush of the place only made him uneasy, because the clone was used to loud blaster bolts, bombs, and machinery, and even barracks away from the chaotic front never achieved this eeriness. He wanted to jump at his footsteps against the ancient tilework that seemed way too loud, and hoped his boots didn't have a single trace of dirt that would muck up the beautiful carpeting. The mind-reading force-wielders they constantly came across nodded to him and Ahsoka both with the kindest of smiles, and yet the usually level-headed Captain felt he must've disrupted the serenity of the place with his whirling thought process, which was not something really suffered from until now.
The masks hiding the faces of the Temple Guards in the antechamber offered no insight as to what awaited Rex and Ahsoka, though he figured she would've warned him if something amiss was sensed, like potentially being reprimanded for something, and Force knew they did not do many things 'by the book.' But surely their superiors knew that no matter what, things could go scud out there even if you took away the flair elements the 501st boasted of... they just wanted to liven things up, make it less stressful in the moment, keep everyone's head in the game? Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, just like anything else.
The hand keeping Rex's helmet against his hip became slippery with anxious perspiration. Like the good friend she was, Ahsoka decided to dabble in sending calming elements through the Force. It succeeded to a degree, Rex's dilated eyes sliding shut while his taut shoulders sagged from a breath of relief, as if he just took a dose of a mild sedative that provided instant relaxation and even a fuzzy warmth. Ahsoka was granted a small smile in thanks.
It still felt like an eternity until a resounding tone signaled they could enter the meeting.
Both exchanged tight-lipped looks, nodded to each other in affirmation, squared their shoulders and entered, one calm and collected like the great Jedi she tried to be and the other steadily marching like the great soldier he still hoped he'd be.
Most of the Jedi Council was deployed, appearing in holographics. Master Kit Fisto, Master Luminara Unduli, and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi were the only ones physically present. Ahsoka had instructed Rex to respectfully bow alongside her instead of salute, because they were not on the battlefield and Jedi were peacekeepers first, CO's second and only by necessity to win against the Separatists wanting to destroy the peace of the orderly Republic.
If this ordeal wasn't already daunting enough, Rex was thankful for the impromptu 'Formal Meeting Etiquette' briefing during hyperspace, because these great Jedi did not mince words, and what they were instructing ASTONISHED him. And Ahsoka. Who couldn't wrap her mind around it, losing her voice just as he did for a hot minute.
"You want us to spy on Talla?" She could only procure. It was as if someone stabbed her with her lightsaber - it pierced her heart, simultaneously inflicting her body with a white-hot burning sensation. Except there was no lightsaber - emotionally, she was hurt, and she was angry.
Thank the Force the Masters were alright with her not taking this too well, it made stony-faced Rex's older brother instincts to kick in, and he felt it would be appropriate to follow up with, "May I ask what Agent Talla has done to require this -" He was wise to take this pause to choose the right word that would not cause a possible insult, "This close-mouthed surveillance?"
"The enhanced clone's sudden presence is the primary cause for concern." Master Luminara answered with a serious frown of her own.
One Rex wanted to sympathize with, the Jedi had proved time and again to be great, compassionate, trustworthy leaders he wholeheartedly respected... But this felt underhanded. And to his knowledge, Talla hadn't done anything underhanded, but he certainly knew sentients who did. "Then why not put surveillance on the Kaminoans?" He couldn't believe these bold words spilling out of his mouth, but Rex supposed here, in front of the most powerful beings in the Republic save for the Chancellor, this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to save all of his brothers and he just took it. "Why place suspicion on the personal project who had no choice being brought into existence, instead of the creator herself, Doctor Nala Se, who indubitably did have that choice." Not to mention, it was a sour taste in his mouth, the lovely Agent Talla suspected of being a piece of filthy rankweed out to destroy them all.
Ahsoka didn't tell Rex to pipe down because all it took was that first playful interaction between her and newly deployed Talla to be replayed in her mind to know his rebuttal seemed completely justified.
"Kamino is not under the Republic's jurisdiction, and thus far SAC-1 had not overtly caused an issue with the Republic's war efforts that could give us the clearance needed to open a formal investigation with the Senate's backing." Obi-Wan Kenobi's holographic supplied, "Time is of the essence - if there is a cause for concern we need to formally investigate, we must know within the narrow window of covert opportunity given to us by the Chancellor, all before the newly 'hatched' enhanced clones get their feet under them."
Ahsoka shared a surprised glance with Rex.
Talla was already a huge, yet pleasant surprise. Ahsoka cared for her boys in blue, and Anakin and Obi-Wan, but Talla happily AND sadly turned out to be a breath of fresh air from the soldiers and Jedi interacted with daily, even Barriss. Barriss was one of her closest friends and confidants... but it was quickly learned Ahsoka couldn't open up about her little infatuation with Lux Bonteri. Ahsoka figured that was a one-way ticket to getting the 'No Attachments' speech for the umpteenth time, instead of trying to understand, process and move beyond these natural feelings to achieve the awesome powers of a Master Jedi. Talla was fun to discuss it with though, she respectfully didn't egg Ahsoka on, but listened intently and could actually make Ahsoka laugh at herself instead of feeling like she should be expelled from the Order.
"There's more?" She asked unsurely of the Council, referring to the developing gaggle of Clone Agents.
"Kamino is an independent government, and once Republic funds become theirs, the Republic has no say in what they do with these funds." Ever serious Mace Windu explained, "Their way of life is funded by lucrative cloning projects, and Chancellor Palpatine assumes the Prime Minister intends to offer these clones for a new division to the Grand Army."
Rex couldn't stop his eyebrows from snapping upwards. A whole ARMY of these super soldiers? As open minded as he was about Talla thus far, the pessimistic side of him wondered how many of his brothers would, as a result, be upstaged. From what previous curiosity had gotten him informed of, 'plain' Talla was supposed to be specifically for undercover jobs, but how many of those were actually needed? Which led Rex to conclude that if there were multiple squadrons of these highly skilled enhanced clones who could do the work of a whole battalion, based on Talla's previous success on her very first mission, would that make himself and his 'normal' brothers strenuous efforts null in comparison? Would regular clone trooper production stop altogether, and they'd all eventually die off to make way for the new deadly toys to use against Seppies? It seemed statistically impossible, they would surely need the numbers, but if there was one thing that rubbed Rex the wrong way, it was at how much medical care he heard was available to Talla at the drop of a hat, not to mention how they went to retrieve her when the likelihood of her survival was next to nothing. How many of his brothers could have been saved if they held such value to the Republic...
"There's been a request for a formal meeting to engage in negotiations, but since the Clone Agents have just been extracted, the meeting has been scheduled to be in three months." Shaak Ti, advisor to Lama Su, had been informed of, "From what I have gathered, unlike SAC-1 who was fully mature in four standard years, these Clone Agents will be fully mature within the span of one standard year. Since the war shows no signs of letting up in the near future, the Prime Minister believed it would be more prudent to wait until Chancellor Palpatine would be able to observe the clones' abilities beginning to take shape, and see if it would be beneficial for the Republic's effort against the Separatists."
"Unless we discover sinister motives beforehand." Somber Plo Koon added, unknowingly the whole reason for this suspicion placed on Agent Talla.
Since it was clear nothing could be done about the Kaminoans YET, Rex went back to his former concern: Talla being considered a suspect for evil. Besides Fives and Cody, Ahsoka was the one who currently had the most information on her. She'd not said anything about sensing evil walking among them. Rex on the other hand only had that one celebration meal with her on Kamino, and nothing else, but had not picked up on anything strange about her either. "What about the squadron Agent Talla was assigned to, that Experimental Unit: Clone Force 99? They are all enhanced clones too, aren't they?" He asked that last part to Ahsoka, specifically.
Who immediately caught on with his suggestion. "Yes, should not they be a cause for concern as well? I hadn't heard about them until I worked with them on the Liberation of Silva."
Shaak Ti answered this one again. "Prime Minister Lama Su has been upfront about this batch of Commandos from the beginning, and speaks very highly of them. With SAC-1, he was not."
"Are they not under the command of a Jedi General?" Rex asked, wanting more info as to why Ahsoka and more confusedly himself were asked to put a tracking device on Talla, so to speak.
"They are not, which is why we have bestowed this task upon you and Padawan Tano." Kit Fisto said in finality.
Grand Master Yoda now decided to pipe in, and gone was his typical jovial smile and maniacal chortling. "Worked with Agent Talla, you have." He said of the Padawan, then to the Clone Captain, "Uncovered wayward Comrades in the past, you have." He folded his hands over his cane, assuming the faint palpitations was due to Rex feeling lingering anger over uncovering these traitors, "Entrusting a great assignment to you both, we are. Lots of questions, we have. Need to ensure that we are all safe from harm, we do."
Feeling an odd tug at his heart strings, Obi-Wan addressed Ahsoka and Rex's obvious discomfort. "While this is strictly off the record, we would never ask you to do anything underhanded or illegal to pump her for information - we simply are asking you to casually question Agent Talla more about her time before deployment, as friends do to get to know each other better. Her file does not provide much insight, yet if she willingly offers information that ends up clearing this whole kerfuffle without stirring the stinger nest, all the better."
Mace Windu was not as encouraging, unfortunately, and he leaned forward with a serious expression, "But if you sense she is holding back, lying about anything, that will give the Grand Army clearance to bring her in for questioning." He intoned more ominously, unraveling all of Obi-Wan's work.
It truly baffled Talla how people purposely inflicted pain on themselves for hours on end for a measly tattoo, especially someone like Hunter. They could be incredibly alluring body art and true, once the brief treatment of bacta gel was cleaned off his chest, which reduced the swelling, bruising, and irritation, Talla did have to look away from shirtless Hunter... because however the kriff that was possible, there was no denying how exponentially more attractive he had just become to her with the completed tattoo.
BUT seeing how agonized he was afterwards put a damper on admiring how the good Maker and Nikali Tiima had blessed Sergeant Luscious Locks with the muscular body build and completed skeleton tattoo. Apparently Talla did have some dignity and decency left.
Twilight was upon this side of Coruscant, and Hunter was hunched over on one of the waiting area couches. Eyes shut, elbows on his knees, his hands were supporting his heavy head. It was juvenile insecurity with having his first serious, kark it, FIRST EVER girlfriend that made him want to appear tough, so he'd refused the numbing agent that was strongly advised and used for every other tattoo session - one of the biggest mistakes of his short life. About a third of the way through a rib bone, Hunter had to give in, and Nik liberally applied the cream treatment before continuing, shifting the pain levels from unimaginable to intense. The brief bacta treatment the Parlor offered to heal the open wound saved Hunter's sanity, yet by the end of all this the whole excursion had left the sensitive clone nearly comatose and cursing his creation.
Someone carefully settled down in the seat next to him. Hunter's nostrils filled with the intoxicating essence of someone that drove him crazy and yet: 'Talla.' He found himself swaying towards her, lowering his hands to gently lean his forehead against her shoulder. 'Comforting.' Her natural scent may have been misted with mild chemicals from the beauty products, faintly sweaty from a long hard day's work, yet he inhaled again, and it was, 'So comforting.'
"Tech will be here soon." Hunter heard her quietly reassure, leaning her head against the top of his.
He could barely manage a grunt that said, 'Thank God.' His jaw was so sore from clenching. It was still clenched. He felt Talla reach up and lightly pat the side of his head. Those tentative fingers drifted down to brush against his jaw, which he promptly unclenched because it allowed her to gently press two fingers just below his cheekbone and move them in a circular motion, lightly massaging away the tension.
You know what, forget being tough, Hunter wouldn't have minded if he could just stay close to Talla until he was recovered. This was either witchcraft, or maybe Wrecker was onto something with the constant begging for a hug or cuddle? Being so near to someone so dear to him, who offered comfort in this way, Hunter became limp with a relieved sigh, he felt himself having the instinct to lower further so he could shift on his back and lie his head on her soft lap-
But he was gently made to sit upright again, because here came Blair and the Tiima's. Talla stood and they squished her into a big group hug, thanking her for all her help today. Wrecker, who'd hung out all afternoon, was long gone, getting dinner for him and Skylar for their staying-in type of date - relaxing, watching holos and stuffing their faces.
"Sorry you're partying it up at 79's solo tonight." Regretful Skylar donning a warm cloak said about Talla's other plans away from the groups.
"I'm not 'partying it up,'" Talla could actually say that wasn't a total lie. To her luck, Hunter was too out of it to ask whether or not the chaotic atmosphere would be overwhelming as opposed to relaxing after a long, busy, crowded workday. And he would've been right, it probably would be too much if she had not something to keep her focused, but ironically this meetup was sending Talla's anxiety through the roof. But better to know what she was facing instead of whirling 'WHAT IF's.' Not bothering to change, she shrugged on her leather jacket from this morning over her uniform. "Just, after a long day I want a stiff drink 'n a dinner that I didn't have to make myself."
"I hear that." Blair scoffed in solidarity, pulling her long hair out of her coat collar, "I'm gonna take a hot shower, eat a whole rotisserie nuna from the market, and down a big ol' glass of Bespin Sparkle."
Talla freed her own trapped hair, "Mm, sounds amazing, have fun deciding what to do first." She found the strength to halfway tease.
"Who says I'm doing them separately?" Blair deadpanned, zipping up.
Skylar heaved a big, dramatic groan. "Since I'm gonna have to scrape you out of your shower later, would you be so kind as to at least go warm up the speeder?"
Blair stuck her tongue out at the joke - she wasn't gonna get drunk, was just gonna multi-task! - but she obliged her bestie. Skylar then asked Talla the Security Guard to help her do a last sweep of the place to make sure everything was turned off, unplugged, or locked up. That left behind a miserable Hunter. Maybe he'd ask Talla to use her magic touch on him later, but for now at least he got some silence.
Until Nik returned from his freshly organized station, ready to bundle up before braving the cold night outside. Shrugging on his trench coat, his eyes flitted to the waiting area and lit up seeing the lone Sergeant, and the PERFECT opportunity to lay down the law with this young man he'd found out was courting his...
'Employee?' Nik's determined steps faltered, and he feigned struggling with the belt to his trench coat. 'Volunteer Employee?' His face scrunched in judgment towards himself. 'No, that makes this sound completely possessive and creepy...' He really wanted this justified before the confrontation, so he took an extra-long time tugging and fidgeting to make sure his leather gloves were on properly, 'Could say 'Sister from another mister' but she doesn't have a father. At least she knows where babies come from now though, which is WHY I GOTTA LAY DOWN THE LAW WITH THIS YOUNG MAN COURTING MY... SURROGATE SISTER.' He made a dissatisfied noise at how unnatural the label sounded, wrapping his scarf snugly around his neck. 'Nooo, I don't think we've reached that level of closeness...'
He scooped up his briefcase from stool, and nearly dropped it when an amazing idea hit him, 'Hey, I wonder if we could adopt her. That'd make this WAY easier! Could you even adopt a clone trooper?' He grinned at the possibilities, 'That'd be totally wizard, I'd get a badass baby sister who looks like she's twenty-two, can slice 'n dice potential enemies, and can do all the wizard adult stuff too, like triple dates, or bar hopping - OH, that reminds me, I gotta go pick up that bottle of Bespin Sparkle for Blair.' Right about the time Nik approached comatose Hunter he realized that while there was no idea how the potential process could go, he'd for sure have to contact the Kaminoans to adopt Talla... so that was out of the question.
Forcibly turning off his squirrelly thinking, Nik flopped down next to Hunter and powered through despite the mild glower thrown his way, making him throw up his hands. "Alright, I know you're really out of it, so I'll make this quick -" But Nik smacked a hand onto Hunter's back without an ounce of guilt, making the poor sensitive Sarge grunt, "The precious Angel that is our beloved Talla: if you break her heart, I'll break your neck." Nik tried to threaten, and to his glee Hunter's woozy head snapped up, and the guy was seriously in danger of fainting.
In the span of three seconds Hunter experienced the five stages of grief that was his ten-day relationship already outed... tacking on amusement at the end while giving willowy Nik a judgy once over. He didn't even bother to answer that non-intimidating threat, resting his head against his palms again with a simple, "Tch."
"Oh ho ho, I have mah ways, mah contacts, Sergeant Luscious Locks." Nik could see Hunter's frown turn wry, making him even more giddy. "I may not be physically able to do this, I might not be able to physically do that, but I sure as kriff know people who could!" He raised off the couch to tower over Hunter who could barely raise his head, and waggled a threatening finger, "I've got connections, so behave yourself, young man."
Hunter figured Nik was doing this out of his own weird sense of humor, and he was half right. He also knew how close a blood-related family could be, and Talla was a part of the family too, but it would always be a different way, and just in case things didn't work out between them and the brothers ended up taking sides with Hunter or something, Nik figured Talla should have someone stick up for her.
And any time Nik got a chance to make the badass, intimidating Bad Batch quiver in their boots, that was a real confidence booster. It didn't hit Hunter now, but it would, you could start to see it start to dawn in his weary eyes that 'SOMEONE KNOWS ABOUT US' when Nik slowly backed away, making a brisk 'I'm watching you' finger gesture in parting.
Oh, Nik loved coming home after a long day, a long week at work. They'd been working around the clock for the grand opening of the tiny café being added onto their Parlor, all the while maintaining regular hours and clone discount hours alongside times needed to be set aside to meet with contractors and inspectors and his parents who'd be running it and Nik was excited as KRIFF, yet at the same time he wanted to tear his lekku out. He was tired of debating over paint swatches and carpet/tile options and menu items and plumbing and electricity and furniture.
But tonight, Nik was gonna end up having the apartment all to himself, because twenty minutes into their holo-watching on the Marauder, Skylar ended up zonking out in Wrecker's arms due to the same levels of exhaustion her twin experienced, and Wrecker felt it would be a crime to wake her up, - "Plus Sky looks really cute when she's sleeping!" He loudly whispered because that was the only way he could whisper. But Skylar was OUT and didn't stir during this comm exchange, and Nik heard him go 'Awwwww,' and got a little gushy talk from the big lug about how he'd pulled a throw blanket over her, and she snuggled up more happily onto his chest.
Gosh, even protective Nik loved that his precious twin sis had a boyfriend she could spend her free time with. Yeah, Nik might have to be the one to scrape his drunken girlfriend out of her shower later, but eh, it could be worse. This fleeting moment of solitude was exactly what he needed to recharge. Sprinkle in not having to compromise with what to watch on the holoset, choosing to diffuse naturally relaxing scents he himself personally enjoyed, and how he could even kick back in just his skivvies if he wanted, Nikali Tiima had plans to achieve peak relaxation tonight.
Stepping over the threshold of his apartment, yawning Nik flicked the lights on-
There was a cloaked figure at the dining table.
Nik shrieked. Nik chucked his briefcase at the intruder. The unflinching intruder watched Nik miss big time.
Pushing back his ponchos hood, melodramatic Crosshair -
"CROSSHAIR?!"
-lolled his head away from the dented case an embarrassing three feet away. "You haven't gotten a better security lock." He tsked disappointedly, deflecting all blame to Nik for his predicament, running a finger on the rim of a tall, stemmed glass that was NOT HIS. Filled with a colorful mixed beverage of the alcohol variety, no doubt, all ingredients NOT paid for by HIS MONEY.
Nik's sunken eyes flicked from Crosshair to the dented wall HE HIMSELF WOULD HAVE TO PAY FOR, then back at his unapologetic buddy. "Oh hell no, I already spend way too much money on you!" And it was surprising his coat buttons didn't fly off by how he furiously tore off his coat.
They heard the downstairs neighbor hit their floor, her roof, with a broom no doubt.
Nik cupped the side of his mouth to counter-productively shout, "SORRY, MRS. ZEVE!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Now that came from upstairs.
Nik fixed Crosshair with a tired glare, shoving hands back towards the floor and the ceiling like a crazy man, "You see, you see what you do?" He took a moment to swipe off his gloves and collect himself, stepping closer to fume more quietly, "I was a perfect angel neighbor until you crawled into my life from the depths of hell, psycho!"
Crosshair draped one arm over the chair's back and raised his tall glass with the other, to Nik, in a mock toast of sorts, "I'm not the one who dropped the buddy label first." The glass against his smirked lips added, 'You're stuck with me now.'
Scarf torn off, the corners of Nik's mouth tugged downward further. "I hope you know your never-failing ability to shift blame disappoints me, buddy."
Crosshair let out a satisfied sigh from the refreshing swig of his drink. "I am indeed a sack of bantha fodder, yet you still dropped the label first, buddy."
Effectively cornered, Nik was too sluggish to find a scathing retort. His eye merely twitched and he tossed the bundle of garments and his headpiece over the back of a chair, demanding what Crosshair wanted, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the living room. "My ass has a date with that couch, and we're doubling with my eyes and three missed episodes of my singing competition." He gripped the back of the dining chair across the Sniper and raised a tattooed brow expectantly.
Based on the previous shutdown by Tech this morning, Crosshair's smirk turned to a sour frown, nostrils flaring, and with righteous anger making is reappearance, there was also a lapse of insecurity. Just as it came though it was wiped away by a blank stare, fixed on Nik and impassive to those who didn't know him well, troubled to those who took the trouble of learning how to read him. And he kept on staring, completely and frustratingly... unsure. It was times like this that Crosshair missed the less complicated old days.
He didn't want to be called crazy again. But Wrecker was indeed crazy, in an actual relationship yet still so CLUELESS. Tech was crazy too but vastly inexperienced and wouldn't know a woman liked him even if she shoved him against the console and kissed him, probably thinking she must've thought he needed mouth to mouth resuscitation by, I don't know, thinking he got an electrical shock from his current project.
Then it had hit Crosshair during his afternoon cup of caf: He needed someone crazy, but with a little bit more civilian life experience. Someone who had apparently had a rough bringing up, yet was now understanding, open minded, and intuitive but not from a tactical standpoint. Not like him and his brothers who were jaded, cynical, and a bunch of clueless di'kuts when it came to 'civilian life,' even this far out from their deployment. Yet this person had to be out there too, just as crazy and colorful as Crosshair, but someone who he could tolerate talking to as well. Shrill voices would not cut it.
So, if anyone in Crosshair's circle of tolerable sentients he graced with his presence would humor him, or infinitely better, had too begun to suspect a little something something between Sergeant Luscious Locks and the Agent Wonder - lo and behold, Nikali Tiima the mama's boy got an evening housecall.
Who was vastly uncomfortable with the silent staring, made a show of checking over his rumpled uniform, then lowered his voice to a comically out of character baritone and thick accent, "Are ye tryin' to probe mah mind, Master Jedi?"
Crosshair appeared suave on the outside, simply taking another long swig of his beverage to prolong the inevitable.
It turned out he was remarkably unlucky - on top of every other virtue, Nik was remarkably patient. Didn't throw Crosshair out by the scruff of his collar, not that he could have. Rather, he dramatically leaned closer to appear menacing, the only time he could ever tower over Crosshair, "You're Jedi mind tricks will not work on me."
The Sniper rolled his eyes so hard he saw stars - Nik watched way too many gangster and war holos. To his credit, Nik didn't flinch when Crosshair finally plopped down his glass and copied his seriousness, leaning forward in his chair and clasping his hands in the process.
*cue pause for effect and quite possibly the last precious seconds of having his dignity in this conversation*
"You spent the day with Hunter and Talla - quite intimate those two friends are, I'm sure you noticed." Crosshair started with bated breath. 'Yes, begin with a mild compliment even though he's an airhead...'
The mistreated clone soldier had to hand it to Nik. If not so hypervigilant, especially when trying to get a read on people's body language for a potential threat, Crosshair wouldn't have caught the flash of interest and slight widening of Nik's cyan blues, or the tiny twitch of his hard pressed lips.
But Crosshair was hypervigilant times ten. And he was such a good houseguest, contrary to popular belief. He was so kind as to get up, mix up one of Nik's favorite alcoholic beverages that he found out tonight was rather tasty, and placed it before the twi enticingly, so nice as to add a citrus wedge on the rim of the glass for extra appeal. He also made and put aside a delicious dinner for Nik... Alright, it was a bantha cheese hoagie, but Crosshair didn't really know how to cook with the vegetarian ingredients found in the kitchen and only found meat of the sandwich variety in the cooler. You can never go wrong with a sandwich!
He placed that in front of Nik, who was seen beginning to drool.
'Caught hook, line and sinker.' Pleased Crosshair mentally smirked, setting aside his own sandwich. After shrugging off his poncho, he might have kicked up his feet on the table when sitting back down, but of course he'd made sure to wear his cleanest boots and even wiped them off after bypassing the front door's security lock earlier. "You do remember the last time we broached a subject like this?" He probed Nik, alluding to their brief spat about Sky and Wreck.
Nik's gaze didn't rise from the delicious meal made to crumble his resolve. "Uh huh."
Crosshair picked back up his dinner plate. "Do you wish to relive that anguish?" To tease starving Nik further, he shamelessly took a bite out of his delicious sandwich.
"Not particularly." Against his will, Nik's stomach growled to remind him that he hadn't eaten since lunch.
"Good." Crosshair waved an inviting hand to the seat Nik gripped. "Eat, drink, and then we'll have a nice chat, buddy."
It was here and now that Nik discovered he was not cut out to be a soldier. Being a decent soul, Nik was of course highly reluctant to divulge such sensitive information... But this was his favorite cocktail and he was so hungry that even this measly sandwich offering was looking like one sent from the gods above. It'd be a shame to waste it, especially since HE paid for the ingredients himself.
Self preservation did kick in and Nik was quick to think up a plan - to save himself from the wrath of Agent Talla, he was going to put the whole blame on Sniper Stringbean by saying he got him drunk and vulnerable. He supposed Crosshair thought of this already, and assumed right that this time he'd be playing nice. And the Sniper felt he could hold his own against the scary woman, unless she was on her period, but Crosshair had been developing a plan for that: to just toss her favorite cookies at her every time she entered a room, a sacred offering which would beg for atonement of his inevitable downfalls.
Crosshair was patient, Nik knew that. Crosshair would get it out of him one way or another, Nik knew that too. Whether or not it'd be a pleasant experience, or be an unpleasant interrogation, Nik knew Crosshair graciously left that up to him.
The twi chose to sit down, kick up his own feet, and gobble down what just might be his last meal.
It was an agonizing half hour of nothing worthy of Crosshair's time spilling from Nik's lips. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to do at a dinner party after the meal was finished, so all Crosshair had to occupy himself was refilling Nik's drink once and rolling a toothpick back and forth between his teeth, continuing his piercing stare at the ditzy man who seemed to be captivated in his own little world, drink in hand and reclining back his chair to stare up at the boring ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing in the universe. Either he was a lightweight or putting too much preparation into his story when all Crosshair wanted was a simple confirmation to his previous statement.
"Credit for your thoughts?" Crosshair blatantly asked, not getting any younger. It was sad, his job required him to be oh so patient, but he'd been stewing all day over this potential scandal within the Bad Batch.
Alcohol had more of a relaxing effect on Nik in these small amounts so he didn't jump, but all mirth evaporated, and with his free hand he swiped over a lekku with a disgruntled sigh. "Alright... All I know is..." His cheeks puffed with another exhale/blowing a raspberry, 'Dear gods, please protect me from the scary Angel Talla - WOW, what an oxymoron.' And to get it over with Nik just blurted out: "At one point, I saw a big ol' secret hug over the security cams, and later on I might have also seen them sneak out of a dressing room together when Hunter definitely had no reason to be in there -"
"I KNEW IT!" Crosshair exploded, jumping up from his chair which caused a loud THUNK! when it collided with the wall. And right on cue:
BANG! BANG! BANG!
They got from both ceiling and floor.
In dramatic retaliation, Crosshair:
*jump* STOMP! *jump* STOMP! *jump* STOMP!
That shook the whole apartment, and effectively shut them both up. Or earned Nik an eviction notice. Yet he felt so warm and fuzzy right now, he couldn't care less. With the awful sting of betrayal and forest fire of anger, Crosshair was uncharacteristically calm Nik's polar opposite and couldn't care less that the table's had shifted, or that he was abusing his buddy's kindness. He hunched over the table, amber eyes ablaze, nostrils flaring and knuckles turning white from his grip on the edge. "Those backstabbing little pieces of -"
Just like that, Nik was snapped back down to reality, "Just keep it under wraps, would ya?" He pleaded, and Crosshair scoffed incredulously, "Buddy, I'm still paying for you forcing me to oust Sky and Wrecker, and I don't want to be on bad terms with someone who can take down a dowutin with her bare hands." He shuddered at the potential for agony Talla could inflict on him. Maybe it was a good thing adoption was unattainable, could you imagine the family dinners?
"Why keep it a secret?" Crosshair muttered mainly to himself, trying to make sense of this all. "What did we do to deserve such betrayal?"
'Asks the man who broke into my apartment because he was suffering from a crisis: E.' Nik blinked, looked down and swirled the last dregs of his cocktail, "Beats me, buddy." Nik mumbled, and knocked back the rest of his drink to calm his fraying nerves.
"We have never kept secrets from each other." Crosshair revealed, able to maintain eye contact while doing so, the very windows to his soul clouded in an extremely rare moment of his version of vulnerability.
"Everything you're feeling is completely valid," Good Nik consolidated first, then fighting a wince from his achy back he stood to tower over Crosshair once again, "But if you tattle, I swear I will replace every piece of consumer goods in this apartment with rations!" Crosshair squinted up at the challenge, "Hunter and Talla are your family, nerra, and family doesn't betray family, you already know this," Nik reminded him next, and exaggerated a quick, deep breath motion in and out, "So cool your jets and bask in the glow that you figured out the little love affair of two enhanced trackers who were so stupidly lost in the goo goo eyes they're making at each other." Back into his chair he flopped with a relieved sigh, "They'll speak up when they're ready. Skylar's the same way with mom and dad, it's just complicated."
"Bantha piss." Crosshair retorted.
Nik barked a laugh, "It's really cute that you think that it's not complicated, CT-9904 of Kamino." A low blow, but Nik was making a point - with their heritage, it was all, unfortunately, going to be ten times more complicated than love already WAS.
Lip curling, Crosshair ducked his head to hide the fact he might have thought Nik had a point. He focused on his hands, possibly making imprints on the table's edge. 'Let them enjoy actually thinking I or Tech or Wrecker would be so cruel as to turn them in? That we'd disapprove when I don't give a crap Wrecker has a girl as long as I don't have to witness them slobbering all over each other?'
"Just give 'em time to enjoy this little, sneaking around is kinda romantic." Nik added more sympathetically.
'Let Talla enjoy tearing apart the family like Skylar already started?' Crosshair didn't like when that minor thought broke through, revealing his own betrayals, but he raised his head when a fantastic, petty act of revenge on the Sarge and Agent formulated and took precedence. "Or I could make them squirm until they have no hope for relief unless they admit to the lies." He declared and was dead serious too.
Nik blinked once. Twice. "... 'course, there's other schools of thought." It'd make him a hypocrite to advise against this, considering his interaction with Hunter earlier. 'Ah, we are definitely cut from the same cloth.'
Not caring to acknowledge the sarcasm, Crosshair momentarily became distant as the plan easily came together. "Yeahhh." He agreed distractedly, then when lightning quick moves his chair was resituated, and he dug around in his pants pocket, "Good talk, buddy." Was gonna be his abrupt goodbye and he slammed down his full palm on the table in front of Nik. "Keep the 'change.'"
"You did not just tip me." Nik deadpanned without glancing down at the 'payment,' and brushing past him Crosshair's shameless smirk only irritated Nik further, "My home is not a cantina, I am not a bartender you just vent to and expect free passes but you know what actually, thank you for the money, I need it to pay for the damages - What the -'' He'd looked down, and there was a severe lack of currency, just a little primitive drawstring bag and peeking inside, it merely had little... seed's? "This isn't even money!"
"Consider it a desert souvenir." Crosshair said over his shoulder, nabbing his poncho from the coat rack by the door, "Hunter's new girlfriend forgot to bring it with her today." He added with a touch of sourness, almost startling with how easily that had come back.
One thing Nik was known for was all his plant babies, and never being on an actual desert before Talla had nabbed a few things from her shopping excursion on Saleucami, so this could be seen as a sweet gift but, "You do realize I'll still be spending an even more exorbitant amount of credits on your carelessness because I can and will purchase adorable and expensive pottery?"
Already thinking about that, Crosshair pulled out a small package of three from his thigh satchel, adding it to the growing pile of souvenirs.
Not surprisingly, Nik turned up his nose at the gifts and crossed his arms. "Hmph. Cheap, unoriginal chain store finds?"
Crosshair hummed on contradiction. "Handmade." Technically, Talla had bought all these from a local potter on Saleucami, and Crosshair's own niece and nephew helped beautifully paint them with Hunter's new girlfriends help.
Nik slowly faced smug Crosshair again, resolve effectively beginning to chip away. "... Got vitamins?"
A little vial with a dropper was fished out last, filled with the perfect blend that would be diluted with water and keep these plant babies healthy in this polluted cityscape.
The usual dimpled grin lit up Nik's face, returning that to normal at least. "Alright fine, you're my buddy again."
The last thing Crosshair heard him say when making his exit was Nik telling him to 'Tell her thank you for me!'
And oh, he would do that and much more the next time he crossed paths with the psychotic little harpy.
The Clone Bar was just as noisy, just as smelly, and just as overcrowded as Agent Talla expected. And just her luck, more than half the partygoers were shiny's fresh off of Kamino. They all had identical faces, identical white armor with no distinguished color, and identical experiences with bars - NONE. It was painfully obvious these clumsy, rowdy baby-faced regs couldn't hold their liquor well. Without any other choice, Talla had to be on extra high alert despite being strung out herself, because the last thing she wanted was to have her ass groped or smacked by a frisky, inexperienced reg who would have to learn about consent the hard way, though four times she wasn't able to prevent the awkward situation fast enough. On top of that, didn't Talla want to get caught in the middle of a drunken brawl, or have a drink sloshed on her best dress.
Which plenty annoyingly ogled at. The dress was a deep shade of red that complimented her complection, it hugged her curves nicely, it definitely flashed a bit of leg, it just made Talla feel beautiful, and that's why she originally chose it, before the scars reappeared. After her moment with Hunter earlier, Talla felt that brush of confidence again, admittedly felt a bit tantalizing considering how often she counted him unable to take his eyes off of her today. But that didn't mean Talla wanted other people to, nor have complete strangers to so openly and disgustingly undress her with their eyes! From the entrance and all the way up to her favorite booth, Talla lost count of how many times she had to say to the newbies, 'Hands off,' eventually just channeling her inner Crosshair and politely telling all who dared approach her fine self to 'KARK OFF.'
Occasionally, a flash of the bright lights revealed Talla's obvious scarring, so there'd be no need for a tell-off. The distasteful frowns and brushing her off were real confidence boosters, let me tell ya.
Talla claimed her squadron's favorite booth on the second floor, a nice private corner where she and Convor could discuss things safely. The drooling regs previously camped out there were bribed with enough credits to buy a tasty appetizer each, which was, in Talla's opinion, hard earned scavenging money well spent. So overstimulated, she wasn't in the mood to fight anymore.
Her butt barely touched the seat when another gullible reg dared to approach Talla, who clearly gave off the air of that simple 'KARK OFF,' but in a moment of ingenuity she made an undesirable encounter skew in her favor. "How about you make yourself useful, and get me a soda and a round of shots?" Talla requested since she'd stupidly not ordered one at the counter, and whipped out a handful of more credits from her inner jacket pocket.
The regs eyes lit up so much, "What kind?" And Talla kinda felt guilty for using him, since he was shy and sweet as opposed to cocky, giving off lost puppy vibes.
But she hid her regrets behind a bored look and shrug. "Surprise me." In hindsight, Talla probably should've given him a specific brand, considering this must've been his first night out on the town, but there were more pressing matters taking control of her mind. The bartender was nice enough and would help the reg out, she was sure. And technically, this was her first night out solo, so why not be a little adventurous? It could very well be her last moment of being so deceivingly carefree.
In order for Talla to know where to meet him in the crowded bar, Convor had given her more specifics on their little meet up tonight. The Tiima's current arrangement for clones to get body art was a touch and go type, for Nik and Sky whole business ran by prepaid appointments, but oftentimes there were rude no-shows or last-minute cancellations. Either way, the Tiima's got their money, so during those empty time slots a couple of regs had a chance to snag a top-quality tattoo at a great discount.
Convor was one of the last to snag some of the Tiima's discounted time, offering a lot of opportunities for Talla to pull him aside and interrogate him, yet equal opportunities for Hunter to become suspicious.
(EARLIER)
When Hunter went to use the 'fresher soon after the shop reopened for the afternoon, Talla restrained herself to one simple, innocent, "Got any plans for the evening, doc?" When she was so kind as to offer Convor a cold drink.
Taking the bottle of water, he flatly joked, "I'm gonna claim a booth at 79's and down enough shots to make a Dowutin tipsy."
(PRESENT)
"Is this seat taken?" Yet another reg asked from above.
There was a double take. "If your name is Convor." Talla could only answer with a curious raise of her brow.
Huffing with mild amusement, the only other clone allowed in Talla's booth plopped down opposite to her. Convor wore the standard white trousers for medics paired with the standard undershirt... except the sleeves were torn right off, revealing his new elaborate arm/shoulder/back tattoo of a golden bird wing against a black and blood red backdrop, among lots of scars and even other tattoos peeking out that Talla couldn't picture a stiff like him would have.
Talla's leg bounced under the table, hiding her anxiety for the long-awaited rendezvous, "You diggin' the new look?" She politely inquired for small talk purposes.
"Those friends of yours do some nice work, and for next to nothing." Ever calm, cool, collected Convor said, and with a pleased upturn of his lips he once again glanced over his shoulder to behold the new, stunning tattoo. "I'm astonished at their kindness to clones. Not many are."
"They consider it their contribution to the war effort." Talla had to state proudly of those kind friends, her kind friends, "They make sure the brave soldiers of the Republic 'Look good while they do good.' Near the beginning of the Clone Wars, they even decided to tack on a few hours to their standard workday, so lots more troopers have the opportunity to personalize themselves." It would be such a bummer if today was her last chance to spend time with these incredible people.
"They do you up too?" Convor briefly scanned the purple hair, makeup, new sparkly nose stud, and nodded once with a small, polite smile. "Nice look, by the way."
It took everything to maintain the casual facade. Talla swore she'd never tell another living soul the new level of weakness she sunk to today. To sit through a nose piercing only because the purposeful infliction of pain was a distraction, it was a twisted way of grounding herself, she knew that, but everything else had failed to work. Previous to this lingering soreness unable to be ignored, Talla was in danger of breaking down. "Part of their charity is teaching clones tricks and tips to maintain their styles with minimal costs." She jovially added.
Convor hummed in approval.
A thoughtful pause ensued, where the silenced duo pondered each other, the thundering music intensifying their heart rates picking up as the moment had indisputably arrived.
Glancing away, Convor swiped a hand down his mouth and stubbled chin, a type of nervous habit for him, sharp Talla rightly assumed.
When he raised his forearms to the table and leaned closer, she didn't hesitate to copy. "You ever plan on going back to Kamino?" Convor asked, all jokes shoved aside.
"By your tone, it seems I shouldn't." Was her monotonous response.
"No, eventually you'll have to." Convor said, halfway going into a daze it seemed, "One day, you're gonna get seriously injured on the battlefield again, and the closest medical facility will be Kamino. And if that doesn't come first, there are going to be certain 'treatments' you'll need to ease certain enhanced 'inconveniences' that regular clone hospitals will obviously not specialize in, only your creator."
Talla suppressed a cringe, knowing that since not returning to Kamino for said 'treatment,' she was bound to get another period real soon if stress didn't spare her - that was gonna be fun. And so would be all the boys harping on her to let them take her back to Kamino. Which was apparently unsafe. 'Am I a fugitive now? Force, why didn't I listen to Crosshair and just GO BACK -'
A flash of a strobe light intensified the serious glint directed at her, "And she is watching, Talla, and has been waiting for your return for months, gettin' real tired of pulling strings when she can to make sure you're not put in any more danger than necessary."
Talla's heart leapt in her throat. "Nala Sithspawn doesn't have that kind of power." She tried negating, but Convor didn't stir, "... Does she?"
A half-smile that held no mirth felt like a punch to the gut, "After your accident on Silva, when Kamino was invaded by the Separatists, did you not find it odd that your squadron was given the most boring station on the battlegrounds?"
Sure, she did because it was, and the boys were none too happy about being babysitters to a bunch of snotty teenagers:
(FLASHBACK)
"We shoulda been assigned to protect the DNA Chamber, that woulda been so much more fun!" Wrecker claimed, stiffly marching through the post-battle damage like the rest of his moping squadron.
"I wholeheartedly agree." Tech concurred. "This assignment was not a sufficient use of our prowess and valor."
"Tech took the words right outta my mouth... and made 'em big and confusin'." Wrecker teased, getting a half-hearted glare back.
"Quit complaining." Crosshair snapped, swiping off his helmet.
Talla raised a brow challengingly up at the Sniper. "You're telling me that you were okay sitting around doing nothing while the regs got all the action?" She raised her chin triumphantly when he opened his mouth... but couldn't think of a good comeback. Settling with a scowl, he pulled out a toothpick from his pouch attached to his belt. "The reason why we weren't allowed to guard the DNA Chamber or the Embryo Room was probably because of this squad's reputation for liking explosives - you obviously can't use bombs in such a fragile environment." Tech made a noise of interest at this theory while Crosshair rolled his eyes in annoyance, "That blaster-happy description doesn't exactly showcase your capabilities of being stealthy."
"Look, the important thing is that the kids are safe." Hunter proclaimed, diffusing the argument before it escalated to bloodshed.
(END OF FLASHBACK)
Convor knew Talla enough that he picked up on her little flash from the past, "The best squadron in the GAR getting such a crummy post definitely wasn't an accident."
Frustratingly, another reg who thought himself suave tried to inject himself into the conversation, and Talla broke from the conversation to jump up and tell the pesky reg to 'KARK OFF!'
"From what I gather," Convor continued after the reg scampered away and Talla fell back down into her seat, "Nala Se had Lama Su on board for keeping you on the DL until you're training was complete, but now some credits have been flashed his way. The general consensus among adult cadets is that he's become money hungry, and from what I personally observed with him and Nala Se, they don't really care about you anymore, not since they got the next generation of Clone Agents 'Comin' soon to a warfront near you.'"
'What?' Endurance training proved moot, there was no keeping up the calm facade after that. The blinding lights, the pounding music, the whoops and hollers of the patrons, it all seemed to slow down and become far away at the same time. "More?" Talla breathed. "What - I - I don't -"
(FLASHBACK)
"Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 was just that: an experiment." SAC-1 allowed the Kaminoan doctor to explain further, but not without her eyes turning as sharp as the vibroblade holstered on her wrist guard, which she itched to use as a jolt of white-hot anger shot through her. "They proved that enhancements could be given to clones, so then came the possibility that clones with all of the enhancements combined could be created and become the ultimate soldier, thus how Project SAC came about."
Of course, the Agent knew about Project SAC, but apparently there was a whole despicable sequel to the project that she had not been made aware of!
"Experimental Unit Clone Force 99 were allowed to live so that we could observe how enhanced clones responded to our training program."
'Allowed to live?!' Fury tore through SAC-1. 'How sick and cruel can you be?! Whether or not the lives of these clone troopers should continue is NOT YOUR DECISION, SICKO!'
Just when she thought the Doctor couldn't get eviler, Talla was once again proven that she had a lot to learn about the universe.
The sad part was, she thought she had figured out this one here on Kamino. 'What other evils are there to uncover?! Will I ever be able to forget this nightmare?!'
"When it was clear that the program was not enough for enhanced clones, we allowed them to go out into the field and perfect their enhancements on their own. Then when the time came, they would teach their ways to our first successful SAC experiment, and afterwards be decommissioned so the Special Agent Clones could take their place as the most successful soldiers in the Grand Army of the Republic."
This information dump sent Talla into another downward spiral that threatened to make her take violent actions towards this kriffing long-neck. "Why be decommissioned at all?!" She demanded, "Despite being an... experiment -" It made her skin crawl, calling her friends plus Crosshair that. "- they're still phenomenal soldiers who never fail their missions!"
Here Nala Se sensed that 6.72% percent of unsound mind manifest. "You have demonstrated the capability to complete missions in less time and with minimal destruction, thus costing the Republic Army less money."
Bopping her head back and forth Talla did ponder this. "Okay, I admit the boys use a lot of explosives, but that doesn't change the fact that they get the job done!" She still defended firmly. It took guts to do what they did, being more capable than a whole battalion of clone troopers. And the forty-one missions they'd successfully completed proved that!
Nala Se remained unregretful. "It would be more expensive to fund four reckless clones than it would be to fund one responsible clone."
Talla breathing was quickly turning erratic, temper spiking. "That's not fair!" She shouted. "You can't do this!" Though she knew the exact opposite was true.
Nala Se's face might have been expressionless, but her eyes revealed her own mounting irritation. "I can. You and future Special Agent Clones were created to be the superior soldiers, not Clone Force 99, therefore they will be decommissioned, and you will continue to serve the Grand Army of the Republic single-handedly until the next generation of Special Agent Clones come of age, then you will become a trainer for these enhanced clones."
"And then I'll be decommissioned?" Talla assumed in a growl.
"No. Only the defective clones are decommissioned. You still serve a purpose."
(END OF FLASHBACK)
That memory had been suppressed with everything that's happened since leaving the Homeworld. "She's already -?" Talla could barely breathe out, "There's more - Now?" God's, she was getting dizzy, her head spinning like a top.
Sneaky Convor had compiled visual evidence, to squash any doubt. He got up and took a seat right next to Talla. A holodisc was pulled out from his pocket, which he took upon himself to slip into Talla's backup computer on her right vambrace. Flipping open the cover, he plugged in an encryption, only adding to Talla's discomfort about this whole thing.
The screen flickered to life, with what appeared to be recorded security footage. The cam overlooked a hall with Kaminoan-like architecture, yet at the same time this was unlike any room she'd ever seen in those practical labs. The once stark white walls were lined with what looked like some sort of soft paneling, and there were rugs covering nearly every inch of the pristine cold floors, even lines of banners were strung across the high ceilings... 'The long-necks soundproofed the room,' Talla put together. They wanted to so kindly block out the tumultuous weather patterns of the stormy planet. She would've scoffed if she wasn't rendered dumbly mute. With her enhanced hearing, Talla could pick out a different sort of softer music replaying in this holo-footage that was a complete opposite to the one in this rowdy bar, which was increasingly unraveling her by the second.
This hall was converted into a comfortable nursery of sorts, and it was obvious such unheard care went in from the Kaminoans themselves to make it so. And Mother of Moons, there were dozens of different newborns, sentients ranging from Twi'leks to Devaronians to Gotals to Togrutas, with absolutely no distinguishing marks or features, just like Talla was supposed to be. It was a gaggle of blank slates, each boy/girl pair separated from others and enclosed in a large, makeshift playpen lined with the softest of carpeting, pillows, and blankets. In each pen, two adult regs also occupied them, who all bore some sort of crippling ailment or deformity - 'Standard regulation clones unfit for duty or decommissioned,' Talla realized, 'Guess they don't get stuck with maintenance anymore.' Tech had told her once that the last of the Jango Fett DNA being used was stretched thin, making 'mistakes' like 99 and themselves a little more common.
"Since droids are faster and more efficient with cleaning, these brothers of mine are now caretakers for the enhanced specimens." Convor confirmed, as if he plainly read Talla's frantic efforts to process this, and perhaps he did, the medic treated her several times after all.
Physically, the babies didn't appear to be more than a month or two old, many of them were so tiny, and Talla felt sick and wanted to weep at the same time. She couldn't remember how she fared as a newborn and did not want to relive it even if she could, or torment herself with imagining what these enhanced helpless beings must suffer when external stimuli was simply TOO MUCH and hardly anything could be done to provide relief.
Heart pounding in her ears, Talla barely heard Convor say that only the male clone specimens were granted enhanced senses for obvious reasons, but each specimen only had two enhancements a-piece, and would be fully grown in a year. "And that maintenance clone who died during the Kamino invasion, he was the one to discover ways to ease the distress for the overstimulated babies with enhanced senses."
Talla had never asked the boys certain things about their upbringing, as they never asked her about being brought up in complete isolation. But 99, she'd heard many tales about him and apparently there was so much more this amazing brother did for the Bad Batchers, her Sergeant specifically, that she had yet to discover. It was plain as day those learned skills were being embraced now. Many of the newborn boys were snuggly swaddled, which applied steady pressure, and dulled their startle reflex. But not all the boys seemed to prefer that, and you would see them simply in a small and cushy pod-like cradle, and a nurturing reg would be nearby offering the softest of reassurances. And while the female specimens weren't plagued with this torture, Talla figured the dimmed lights of the nursery would help with the enhanced vision, and many of them were also sleeping in a cradle, or in the arms of a softly smiling reg, sometimes with a bottle on the baby's lips or they were simply being swayed back and forth.
"My brothers are not allowed to fully embrace their paternal side," Convor elaborated, quite bitterly, "It's forbidden to name them, all of these interactions are supervised, and rounds are switched up daily, so no one gets too attached."
Talla could see those few Kaminoan doctors/guards roaming the vicinity, the mere presence enough for the regs to not push boundaries, and were constantly looking over their shoulders to make sure they'd safely evade an unfair reprimanding. Some Kaminoans had what looked to be Bounty Hunter visitors, deep in discussion with.
Her heart stopped when Nala Se appeared by one particular playpen, datapad in hand, always ready to collect data, and Convor ended up being the Doctor's unwitting accomplice. Apparently, he'd recently visited the lovely homeworld and was roped into observing this new PROJECT going forward.
Questions piled up by leaps and bounds. Whether or not she wanted to hear the answers tore her brain into shreds. THIS was getting to be TOO MUCH for Talla. 'There are others. Many others. Little innocent beings. In the hands of cruel Nala Se and money hungry Lama Su. This is all my fault.' And then on the opposite side of the emotional spectrum: 'There are others... Oh my stars, there are others. I am not the only clone with multiple enhancements. I'm not such a freak phenomenon anymore.'
If time wasn't of the essence, Convor would've made allowances for Talla being slow to respond, but it was and he had one more piece of grave information. He clicked a button on Talla's keypad, and the footage switched to a closeup of one particular newborn, in the cradle he and Nala Se had previously checked.
The footage was grainy, dark, and the camerawork was shoddy, obviously recorded from a datapad, but what it revealed made Talla feel like a bantha had landed on her chest and knocked the wind right out of her.
Wide, expressive silver eyes curiously beheld the person holding the camera, and simultaneously pierced Talla's soul. Short, soft, purple streaked black hair with a few gray patches, and its little nose were identical to hers. Talla felt like she was looking in a mirror. Four years ago. "To save time with enhancements, Nala Se cloned this little guy specifically from your DNA she'd harvested at some point."
Convor had officially broken Talla's mind.
"He's not an exact replica, obviously, and there were also some alterations so he wouldn't have your defiant nature." In the video, Talla's replica all swaddled up in a gray blanket scrunched up his face, and gave the cutest little sneeze, no doubt his sensitive nose was tickled by the foreign scents the cameraman - Convor - brought, "He's the only other one with all four enhancements -"
The medic was not blind to the negative effects of his snooping around, he had anticipated it actually. His companion didn't seem to be studying the holo images anymore, rather looking dazed, and the screens light in her wide eyes made plainly obvious her anguish, paired with short, shallow breaths signifying it was getting hard to simply breathe.
Talla was shaking like a leaf, and while purposely not well-versed in physical contact, Convor had seen how the big guy from her squad frequently offered it for comfort purposes. Closing the tiny computer case for now, the medic shifted to attempt draping his arm across Talla's rigid shoulders for a sympathetic side-hug, but he was immediately shoved away. So hard, in fact, that Convor completely fell out of the booth several feet away.
The feeling of a freak out was all too familiar for Talla. But causing a scene would just add another mark on her already bad record, not that it mattered anymore because Nala Se had thoroughly written her off, even to be a teacher for these future soldiers. Bounty Hunters visited Kamino for two purposes only: to donate DNA, or be training instructors.
Head whipping this way and that, she also just didn't want to freak out in the middle of a bar and blindly tumbled away, to find the exit, ANY EXIT. By the time Convor recovered from a mild bump to the head, Talla was nowhere to be found. This was a big problem for him, because there was lots more to discuss.
*Bonus Scene*
It was as if everything seemed to be going right for Talla, and now everything that could go wrong, that she knew would go wrong, was going wrong much sooner than she had planned. Come to think of it, not that she even had a plan, or bothered to try making one, despite promising vigilant Crosshair. 'Force, WHY DIDN'T I LISTEN TO CROSSHAIR? Would things be different if I had?!' She berated herself.
Leaving a trail of destruction and fallen people in her wake, Talla got out of the bar and into the dark and damp alley next to it, behind a monstrous barrel of recycled bottles. It rattled when she collapsed into a fetal position, and her hand locked over ears and face was buried into her knees - she just wanted it all, the images, the threats, the wheel of racing thoughts to STOP.
And about five excruciating minutes later, she found a simple way for it to.
This hideaway turned out to be a popular place for people to take a smoke break, since all forms of smoking had actually been recently banned from inside the premises. A party-dressed Pantoran lady found the distraught female clone when seeking out this very spot, and concernedly asked the expected questions of:
"Are you alright?"
"No." Unmoved Talla tearfully wheezed.
"Did someone hurt you?"
"No."
"Do you need me to call someone for you?"
"No."
Able to do nothing more without consent, Pantoran lady left her alone after that, but took a seat on a crate across the way just in case, yet minded her own business at the same time, pulling out a pack of cigs and a lighter from down in her heeled boots.
Soon, an aromatic smoke overtook Talla's wayward senses, just like the first time she experienced it. Her head gradually lifted from a strange pull. The chemicals kinda made her lungs feel a constricting sensation, but that and the burning in her sensitive nostrils, just like earlier she couldn't deny the distraction it provided from her broken mind. And the second-hand smoke already gave her the different kind of wanted light-headedness.
The Pantoran let out another slow stream of smoke from her pursed lips, and noticed the distressed woman peeking up at her. "Want one?" She graciously offered, holding out the pack of cigs.
Talla wouldn't go so far as to say she enjoyed the taste of the smoke of her first regular cigarette, or the brief and terrible headache she had at first from the smell even though it is what drew her in. If she wasn't desperate, this cig would've been discarded like the more concerning death stick she'd tried the first time coming to 79's.
But just like Rhyden said, when she sucked it up (literally) and went through the motions, it gave her what she desired - a sort of tranquility, and much faster than alcohol did. The light-headedness didn't really go away but the spinning top sensation did, replaced by a similar care-free euphoria that touched the very depths of her weary and frightened soul, temporarily saving her from insanity.
FULL DISCLOSURE - SMOKING. IS. BAD. FOR. YOU.
DO NOT DO IT, IT WON'T MAKE THINGS BETTER
that aside, I've missed you all ;-;
Stay safe, everyone
- Ella