Parental Duties
By Rey

Chapter summary: Glitch longs to be warm, in all senses of the word.

Warning for: harsh, systematic indoctrination, training and kulling of cloned children as soldiers

Chapter note: For those of you who don't know, the clone troopers in Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (as well as Star Wars: The Clone Wars) undergo rapid aging, at least twice the rate of an average baseline human.

5. Glitch: The Newness

Being named after something wrong is really unpleasant. It's always a reminder that wrong and glitchy and defective and underperforming and bad and misbehaving and unruly brothers get either reconditioned or, worse, decommissioned. It's far better than having just a serial number, though, right?

Well, cold comfort, that!

And Kamino is always cold. And rainy. And damp. Even inside.

Just more cold piled on top of cold, then.

And Glitch longs to be warm.

There are warm planets – even hot desert planets – out there, and Glitch longs to explore them, even if it means he must fight for his own life and the lives of his brothers and those of the civilians in the future war he and his brothers have been made and grown and trained for, on those planets.

And, now, a very young, non-brother-feeling cadet – almost a tubie – asks him if he wants to join them in a warm planet, in a group of similar beings for safety, in a family.

`Family!`

He wants it. He desperately wants it, like almost nothing else, regardless of whoever the almost-tubie that offers it is.

He is close to nobody in his batch, in his squad, in wherever, that's why. They think him weird and say so. Because his reaction time is either too slow or too fast, he sometimes answers to questions people don't speak out loud, he more often than not hears things from sources that aren't near to hand such as this case with the almost-tubie, and his perception of the world – the universe, sometimes – is… different from others.

And "different" on Kamino means "very bad." You'll either be lifted up to command position, or kicked away to the trainers or long-necks for reconditioning, or down to the Long-necks' labs for decommissioning. And it's more apparent the older you are. And Glitch is four standard years, now. Old enough for more vigorous training, old enough to be noticed. So, beside the weirdness, this is also why his brothers daren't get too close to him: in case he suddenly gets the last treatment out of the three, and in case the trainers and/or Long-necks deem them defective, too.

So it's better to remove himself before anything bad – worse – can happen to anyone, right? And this little cadet offers a very nice deal regarding this! He just got to trust the little one, got to concentrate on the little one and reach out to them with his not-hand, got to walk with his not-feet without losing that concentration, and… there!

"Oh," he mumbles-groans-complains to himself. Because he's apparently moved indeed. Without ever really preparing for it, without saying good-bye first to the few spots he loves in his former home, without telling anybody that he isn't getting decommissioned, without really moving but to curl up into himself on the surface that's too uneven and gritty and earthy to be the floor of a hallway in the training building. And his head hurts like when he somehow felt when Hardhead got a concussion after a hand-to-hand exam.

He can't say he likes this place on its own, either, at present, despite the fact that it's his decision to come here. It's just… too sudden, too sharply different, all at once. This place is far warmer, with scents he usually smells only when his squad or more got to train in nearby planets, which is very rare to date, and there's sunlight scalding his curled-up form. The universe seems frighteningly larger and darker, too, with nearly no brother clustered nearby – and the one that's around is farther away and… strange, at that!

Worse, something tells him that he can't come back. Not right away. Not easily.

It's overwhelming.

Well, but the little non-brother cadet is here, as well as at least a dozen others. He can feel them, glowing and there like bright stars in space, far stronger than most of his brothers. And there's neither Long-neck nor trainer watching their every move. So it's fine, it's okay, they're all safe. He just needs a moment to adjust, to adapt, and he can do it, he can do it quick. He's made to be adaptable, after all, and to be adjustable, to be resilient, to be versatile, to be–.

"Oh!"

Three more spots of thought-emotion-sensation-being have just popped into existence above them, accompanied by the sound of unfamiliar ships – no, starfighters. And looking at them with his not-eyes is like looking at a system's star directly without any filter from the surface of one of the planets in the said system, though it doesn't hurt his real eyes. They're so bright and strong and hot and radiating! And Glitch can't stop looking at them with his not-eyes, just like he couldn't stop looking at the sun when his squad was in field training elsewhere than Kamino with a few others.

The on-surface glowing ones scatter when those above pop into existence, so Glitch follows suit, without opening his real eyes. Who knows, this might be just some kind of surprise training, geared specially towards him and perhaps these new brothers, and he just wasn't informed about it but the new brothers were. The new ones above don't feel active-danger-to-me or anything else bad, after all, just wary and tired and surprised, and the scattering would've been natural if it's truly a danger – not that he wants to face dangers in this state!

Well, this theory doesn't feel right, but whatever. It's not like a trainer's going to ask about it… right?

Just in case, though, he rummages in his own mind for a better reason till the starfighters go away and the aground brothers come out of their hiding.

But he still doesn't get a better theory than that, or "the little cadet asked me, so I came," even when they jog downhill towards the landed fighters. For this reason, also because he's not about to anger the older brothers nor jump the rank, he jogs last, lightly, alongside the littlest few.

Well, none of these look like the brothers he knows, nobody keeps any regulation in anything including the march downhill, but he doesn't know what to think otherwise in this, too.

Everything's just so new, and he'll be overwhelmed again if he lets it really register.

He's quite relieved, then, and thankful, though also a little apprehensive, when the three beings who have just hopped out of the fighters the moment his group reach the bottom of the hill look like they're wearing Jedi clothes but also gauntlets.

The gauntlets are familiar.

These must be trainers wearing the clothes of the generals and commanders he and his brothers are going to serve soon, then, and this is indeed some live simulation for that eventuality.

But if this is a simulation….

`Oh! I didn't check my blaster and ammo! I didn't even get it out like the other brothers! Oh! Oh! I hope the trainers don't notice! Stupid, glitchy Glitch!`

His brothers back on Kamino shielded his glitchiness from the trainers and long-necks the best that they could, but here the brothers are new, just like everything else, and they don't know how glitchy Glitch is, and it's not certain if they'll shield him, and he can't – won't – gamble with his life by just asking them, and he can't ask them right now anyway, so he must be better on his own, or at least shield his glitchiness himself.

Starting from a discreet check for the supplies he got on person while they stop and the brother in front talks with one – no, two? Three? Four? – of the trainers – `Uniform, standard classwork. Blaster, check. Charge, full. Ammo, two cartridges. Knife, check. Canteen, check, half-full. – Ooh, I wish the training's after midmeal! Now I'm hungry and I don't have anything to eat here.` – then a count of individuals and other supplies carried for this training – `Twelve unknown brothers – not-brother brothers. Six trainers – why so many? Ooh, can't see what weapons they all bear from here! Wish I did a check sooner. But why so many poles instead of blasters? And those three fighter-riding trainers got medkits with them!`

And then it occurs to him: `Oh! Are we going to have a survival training with some of the trainers as Jedi? Or a field-medical one? Two brothers for one 'Jedi'? Now what do Jedi do need and do to heal people? Can we ask the Jedi to help scope out for dangers or erect the medical tent? Or is it unforgivably rude? How do I interact with them, in the first place? – Oh, I didn't brush up on the manual last night!`

The slightly panicking Glitch tries to prevent the littlest brother from worming his way to the front, in the meantime. But thankfully the older brothers don't seem to mind the bold thing's intrusion and stupid assumption, so Glitch subsides a little.

Distantly, he wonders why the lead brother – `Wow! He got a freaking rifle!` – bargains for safe passage off-planet with the trainers. It's not training-like, even with supposed Jedi! But he keeps his opinion to himself, mindful of his new situation and the uncertainties embedded in it, also a sense of immense danger that's catching him off guard, having crept up on him while he's occupied with other things. He follows with alacrity when the group moves again, given the latter reason.

They jog after one of the trainers, in shining silver Mando armour instead of the Jedi-lookalike clothes and carrying… `That the little non-brother cadet? Feels like him. Huh. He's so tiny and green! Even smaller than a tubie!`… and… leave the supposed Jedi behind?

He frowns. But, a moment after, `Oh. No. just different transport,` his mind amends, as his ears hear the tell-tale sound of ships gathering energy to leave gravity from behind him.

He frowns again, though, when a Razor-Crest-type gunship suddenly looms over them from behind a cliff. `Razor Crest. ST-70 Assault Ship. In-system patrol craft. Manned by two personnel. – It's a brand-new type! Trainer Rau crows so much about it! Why's this one so old and battered? – Are we all going to board it? Oooooh, we're going to be squished!`

Still, the good cadet that he is, Glitch boards the ship when the trainer motions them up the ramp. Not everyone obeys, and he fears deeply for their lives for a moment, but then the trainer – `Why's he suddenly so afraid like that? What's a trainer afraid of? What's that he's throwing so hard?` – shoves everyone else in without anything else untoward happening to the brothers, so he relaxes a little, and even more when the trainer practically flies up to the cockpit.

It's so packed in the cargo hold, as he's predicted, especially with crates of supplies further filling the space and jabbing them uncomfortably here and there, but the new not-brother brothers find their niches without complaint, and Glitch finds himself relieved about it, even a little happy.

`They're not so different from the brothers I left on Kamino, after all, despite the variety and unruliness.`

He's grateful about the tight fit when, after straining to lift up with so many aboard, the ship suddenly jerks upward then banks sharply to the right then zips up then banks sharply again to the right after a while. Pitiful, nauseated groans of the brothers – including Glitch himself – fill the cramp space alongside the rattling of the supply crates and the no-less-pitiful whine of the engines, but they're not thrown about, as it would've happened if they weren't so squished together.

`Evasive manoeuvre? Why? Part of the training? A simulation about going from warzone to warzone to provide medical aid, then? Ooh, tough, that. We never tried it before!`

Judging by the faces his new brothers are making, visible beneath the thankfully fine lighting of the cargo hold, they aren't more prepared than he is for this simulation. It's a comfort, but a cold one, and, well, Glitch is here and he doesn't want to be reminded about Kamino and its coldness, not now.

So, once they hit hyperspace judging by the deep thrum of the engines, once the brothers relax a little and do their best to keep more distance from each other for comfort, he scrutinises his surroundings and tries to soak everything in, feel the newness, revel in it for once.

And the interior of this ship is indeed different, even from the pictures Trainer Rau showed in flight class three days ago, both in his real senses and his non-physical ones.

The cargo hold of a Razor Crest is meant to store crates of munitions and perhaps a passanger or two, as well as a kitchenette and a tiny refresher for long patrols. A Razor Crest itself has three rooms: the cockpit above, this cargo hold, and the engine room below. But this Razor Crest, while it seems to be separated into three main spaces as originally intended, doesn't hold a militaristic or policing feel to it. Not quite a bounty-hunter vibe, either, despite the carbonite frame taking up a quarter of the cargo hold, nearest the hatch leading to the engine room.

As flabbergasting as the idea feels, Glitch can't help but think that this Razor Crest feels… homey. Lived-in in an almost-civilian way, like the educational holos the brothers on Kamino sometimes watch as part of galactic civilian interaction training. A pair of bathtowels are hung on hooks beside the fresher's door, there are far more cabinets and kitcheny equipment on the kitchenette beside it, and now Glitch notices that one of the brothers are holding a… stuffed cat?… in his hand with a puzzled expression, probably having caught it when the ship got shaken round and it got loose.

Speaking about the brothers, though….

He looks round, and counts, and counts again, and re-counts it.

`Hey, we're short one brother!`

Because there are only eleven heads, not counting his own, while there were twelve.

`Where's that bold one? The littlest? Oh, kriff.`

He looks round again, this time searching for the rifle-toting lead brother, to report the finding.

`Oh, kriff, why did I notice it only now? That little thing got left behind! Kriff. Will the trainers return for just one brother? Oh, kriff, please! Please please please please, please let's just return for a little bit! I'm a good tracker – I can go search quick!`

He reports just that to the lead brother, once he manages to find that brother's dirty… red? Brown? Red-brown?… hair, smack-dab on the middle of the cluster of brothers. In proper form, of course, and with proper decorum.

It's gratifying, not to mention relieving, that the led brother looks and feels just as panicked as he feels – and looks, most likely – when hearing about the missing brother. Others are at least concerned, too, it feels in his unnamed sense.

Good. It's good. They're a proper squad, then. Squadmates look out for and look after each other. They mightn't even mind Glitch's glitchiness so much, when they inevitably find out about it later.

But it's later. Now they must find and reunite with that bold one.

Glitch prays to all the deities he learnt from galactic religions module when the led brother hops up the ladder to the cockpit to report Glitch's finding to the trainer.

He slumps in relief when the lead brother returns, looking and feeling exasperated-irritated-amused-rlieved, and reports to the cargo hold that the little one is safe and at last accounted for, riding in one of the starfighters without telling anybody beforehand what he's about to do, let alone asking for permission.

`Bold, reckless, rude little cadet,` he grumbles to himself even as he straightens back up and returns to his previous station right beside the carbonite frame, away from the lead brother and the possibly unwanted attention such position might garner him. `Must teach him better or the trainers will kick him off to the long-necks and cheerfully forget about him.`

He nudges the nearest brothers – both black-haired, blue-eyed, if in different ages or at least sizes – to pay attention when the trainer, still holding the teeny tiny little green tubie with one arm, descends the ladder and surveys everyone. He himself straightens up the best that he can and shelves his plans to mentor the missing little cadet for later.

What… he?… says next isn't explanation or instruction or lecture or introduction, though, but, "Have you all eaten something before Grogu got you here?"

Blunt, but… kind, concerned.

Glitch isn't the only brother being surprised in the cargo hold. Most of them are surprised – no, shocked – in fact, also hungry, and they show it not only in the unseen.

Nobody dares to answer, though.

Well, the lead brother answers after a beat, politely and roundaboutly rejecting the hidden offer of food for them all. But the trainer doesn't seem to believe him, huffing exasperatedly and mirroring it in the unseen the moment the lead brother stops blathering.

The lead brother changes tactics when, despite the rejection, the trainer circles round the gathering to Glitches side and pries open a crate just behind Glitch that turns out to be full of ration bars. "What are we to do in exchange should we accept the food?"

The trainer just huffs again, then sighs, then silently passes the first bar to Glitch, motioning for him to pass it along to his brothers.

"Just eat," the Mando orders, tiredly, when everyone has gotten a bar each. There's an old ache behind his words in the unseen, also fresh determination and – most importantly – sincerity. So, figuring that this isn't a trap like some trainers like to get the brothers into on Kamino, Glitch peels the wrapper of his bar and bites into it.

He has to make a concerted effort to push the bite past the lump that's suddenly there in the middle of his throat, though.

And he's not the only one, judging by the thought-feeling-sensation churning in the unseen, acknowledged with gentle warmth and fierce pride and safe-safe-safe by the little tubie nestled so comfortably in the trainer's arm.

The bar's bland, but fulfilling, just as per usual, but it's more than any of those.

`If more new things are like this, I can really live with it.`