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Well that's enough of that. One with the story!
A Few Months Later
A Certain Private Lab on Kamino
Doctor Tri Gar's POV
"Good. Very good." She muttered to herself as she finished reviewing the last of the new data on specimen 80B81CA.
She had been a bit concerned when she'd deviated from the standard practices of her people's science but based on this data her unconventional decision was having the desired outcome. It was standard practice when cloning a subject to use certain compounds and make certain adjustments if the clone needed to be of a certain age sooner rather than later. It all depended on what the client wanted or what the objective of the experiment was intended to be.
In the case of the Fett Clone Troopers they needed to reach their physical prime and be combat ready swiftly enough to counter the losses being suffered in the war. While she supposed that there might be a way to undo or reduced the accelerated aging of the Clone Troopers she doubted any Kaminoan scientist would consider it worth the expenditure of time and resources. Given the probability analysis done during the early stages of the creation of the Grand Army it was determined that even with victory for the Republic there'd be few surviving troopers. With the end of the war there would be little need for more Fett clones so it would be simpler to let the ones that remained die off from accelerated aging.
However in the case of specimen 80B81CA she wished to see its physical development at a faster pace than nature would allow. At the same time though she might need to temporarily halt the accelerated aging in order to properly examine any new developments that would be otherwise be distorted. Thus she had devised a method of accelerating the age of the specimen in spurts rather than a self-perpetuating process with additional elements in order to ensure biological stability. There had been some concern as there was with any newly developed method that it would do harm to the specimen but after a single usage the data she just finished reviewing showed no sign of this. All biological signs of accelerated aging had ceased, the specimens vital signs were stable and scrutiny at a genetic level showed no abnormalities.
~I will still need to monitor matters closely.~ She thought looking to the cylinder holding the specimen, ~There may be an unforeseen cumulative effect. If so I will need to halt the accelerated aging entirely, correct the damage done and possibly revise my method.~
It was proving to be an interesting side project while she waited for Xander to manifest his peculiarities enough times for them to be quantified and understood. Prime Minister Lama Su was quite intrigued by the sensor readings of the phenomena that'd taken place in Xander's room but was hesitant to agree to her proposal until they learned more. That was likely why the boy's training had progressed to team scenarios. With minimal prompting from the Prime Minister scenarios safe for individuals had been pushed as far as they could without being suspicious or dangerous. Sadly aside from that one incident of increased speed there had been nothing to show for it thus it had been proposed that if personal danger didn't provoke a reaction perhaps seeing another in danger would. It wouldn't happen right away since time would be needed in order for emotional bonds to form but once they had she was sure a 'malfunction' could be arranged. Whether in the form of a turret or one of their training droids it wouldn't be hard to place the most promising candidate in harm's way.
Then, if things went as predictably as she hoped, Xander's power would manifest in order to rescue the candidate potentially in a more controlled manner.
Looking back to the glass cylinder containing specimen 80B81CA she noted that at present it appeared to be a fetus seven months along in the development cycle. She chose to stop the specimen's aging at this point since it would be in the next few weeks that it would begin to exhibit the most basic and simple cognitive thought processes. She was interested to see if this would have any affect on either the portion of DNA she took from cold storage or the last of the blood acquired from Xander's original clothing. Unlikely but the female DNA was atypical so there was no precedent for what would or would not be possible.
Would there be some manner of manifestation of that energy she'd detected in the female DNA? It would likely be small but she had foreseen this and had placed sensors close to the specimen that were quite sensitive and tuned them to detect any sort of energy. Should there be even the slightest manifestation of the energy beyond what she'd already detected from the raw DNA sample it would be detected and recorded in its entirety.
As for the special attributes of the male half of the DNA she had already analyzed a blood sample from the specimen and confirmed the presence of the required elements. Indeed much to her surprise it seemed as though the strange energy from the female blood was actually causing a proliferation of the elements beyond what had been present at first. The increase was not dramatic or worrying but rather an interesting oddity that she had not anticipated back when she'd originally conceived of this project. If the element was connected to what the originally client had been looking for and not found then this might well be enough to attract his interest.
While she knew that this might be perceived as a conflict of interest if not complete treachery it was often wise to have certain contingencies in place during war.
~It has certainly gotten quite a bit more interesting since Xander arrived here.~ She thought turning away from the glass cylinder, ~One can only hope that he will continue to disturb the status quo.~
One Week Later
Xander's POV
~Dysfunctional doesn't even come close to describing us.~ He thought as he stepped out of the shower in his 'apartment'.
It had been months since their first team training session together and he still didn't think the label of 'team' fit what the five of them were. Oh sure things had gotten a little better once El-les had officially named him squad leader since it meant disobeying him would only distance the girls further from their reward but there was still a TON of work to be done. With some encouragement from him Moko was beginning to get more confident in her abilities meaning she could do more than fire a few shots from cover now. Ziru however was strutting the whole elitist ice queen routine making him almost miss Cordelia at her worst since the blue skinned girl made Queen C look downright friendly by comparison. Still the…the…Chiss El-les told him her race was called…was making more of an effort to provide support for the rest of the team and occasionally accepted his orders without protest.
Apparently she considered herself his second in command and thus it was her duty to question his decisions while at the same time offer supposedly superior alternatives.
Crei was still every bit the battle maniac she'd been in their first training session but he'd gotten a better grip on her personality so he could control her more or less if he made his order sound like something she'd like to do anyway. Didn't always work but having a little influence over the Devaronian was better than having no control and maybe once he'd earned her respect she'd actually accept him as the leader.
Oddly enough it was Kayla who was most receptive to his command authority though she still acted like a caffeine hyped puppy sometimes. Personally he thought it was their mutual love of seeing things go boom but he could be wrong since his love was more tempered while hers seemed to want it at every opportunity. Thankfully El-les was smart enough to limit the number and quality of explosives the pink skinned girl could bring to each session so as to motivate her not to waste too much.
All in all they were on their fourth successfully completed training scenario but considering how many they'd been through in total that wasn't exactly saying much. Still the fact that El-les hadn't said or even implied that the whole thing was being called off so he had to assume that they were doing a decent enough job. Still he needed to figure out a way to really bring them together as a squad or else their losses would outnumber their victories by the end of everything.
~Still at least I'm getting SOME teamwork experience out of this.~ He thought reaching the bed upon which a change of clothes waited, ~Best of all whoever I wind up teaming with in the future will probably be a lot more cooperative than this bunch so it should be less stressful.~
After getting dressed he decided it'd probably be best to connect to the holo-net and see how things were progressing with the war he might be walking into once he left Kamino. That wasn't to say he was going to enlist and fight the Separatists but rather that in war battles could happen anywhere and often without warning. He could find a nice world to live on, get a place to live and start his new life only for warships to pop out of hyperspace before deploying soldiers to the world he'd picked. If he couldn't avoid the war without going to some worthless backwater world then keeping up to date on where the proverbial front lines were located was a must. Naturally he'd pick a planet as far from the front lines as he could while still being a pleasant enough place to live.
~Maybe I should ask El-les if there's any chance of the Kaminoans letting me have a ship of my own or if I'm gonna need to book a flight to the planet I choose.~ He thought offhand as he reached to turn his computer on, ~If I choose wrong I'd rather not be one of those people waiting in line to get onto the nearest escape shuttle.~
BEEP! BEEP!
Turning his head towards the door he wondered who that could be since as far as he knew he had the rest of the day off from training. He didn't think either the Prime Minister or that weird doctor would come calling either since he hadn't done anything to warrant their attention. Out of curiosity more than anything else he got out of his computer chair and made for the door to find out who had decided to pay him a visit.
Tapping the key that'd open the door it slid open to reveal someone he'd spotted once or twice in the hallways of the training facility but never actually spoken to. Clad in a mix of metal and leather armour coloured sand gold was a man with dark hair who was a couple inches shorter than him but in no way could be described as weak. He could tell with a look and a little help from Emiya's memories that this was a battle hardened soldier who'd probably shot and been shot at more times than most people could count. However it didn't look like the whole drill sergeant mentality was dominant since it didn't look like the guy was about to call him a maggot or tell him to drop and give him a thousand pushups.
"Something I can help you with?" He asked politely figuring there was no reason to be rude to the guy.
"More like what I can do for you kid." The man replied before turning half away, "Feel like taking a walk?"
"Sure." He replied figuring he had nothing to lose and didn't think the guy planned on killing him since doing so in the privacy of a room made more sense than out in the open.
Getting a pair of boots on he gestured for the guy to lead the way and so the armoured man did.
"Name's Kal Skirata. Got hired to come here and train some raw cadets how to fight. Turn'em into some 'Grand Army of the Republic'." Skirata said as they walked sounding a bit bitter when he mentioned the Grand Army, "Money's good and when I saw the recruits I couldn't help but agree. They're Mandolorians too after all. Just like me."
Mandolorian.
He'd heard something about them during his more academic instruction but not a great deal. Something about an army of warriors that once had the power to throw down with heroes like the Jedi on even ground but now were a bunch of pacifists. Mostly anyway since he figured there were probably a handful here and there who would refuse to let go of the 'old ways'.
There always were.
"You've probably seen some of the ones who passed their graduation test since they're assigned to security here." Skirata said gesturing to one of the armoured security guards stationed about the area.
Taking in the info his estimation of the skill the guards probably had went up since he couldn't picture anyone trained by the man in front of him being incompetent. If these guards were indicative of the caliber of soldier the Grand Army was made up of it was certainly a respectable fighting force.
"El-les teaches them too but lately he's been focusing a lot of his time on you and your squad." Kal said looking back inquisitively, "What do you think of that?"
"Well I'm grateful he's helping me out when he's obviously got bigger things on his plate than just one guy." He replied honestly after taking a moment to think, "Things've been going good. Mostly."
"You're talking about your squad, eh?" Skirata asked rhetorically, "Don't envy you. It's a mixed bunch no doubt about it but sometimes that's a good thing. Versatility, adaptability, is what brings victory. Remember that."
Not that he had to do since it was the same two qualities that'd helped the Scoobies pull out a win against all odds
"Yeah but if they won't listen to their squad leader all that versatility and adaptability isn't going to count for much." He pointed out highlighting the biggest problem with his squad.
"That's because you don't understand them and they don't understand you." Kal said as the voice of experience, "Once you stop being strangers to each other everything else'll solve itself one way or another. Lucky for you I'm gonna lend you a hand with that."
"Oh how's that?" He asked wondering what this guy could know of his squad mates.
"Just follow me and I'll show you." Skirata replied as they entered the main training facility in Tipoca City.
Inside of five minutes he could tell that he was being led in a direction that all the times he'd been in the building previously he'd never gone. Mostly it was because the rooms that El-les used to train him were in a different direction but also because Prime Minister Lama Su had told him this was the direction where the Grand Army of the Republic was getting its training. Seeing as how setting foot into military matters attached to such a powerful political body was probably off limits he'd never had a reason to test his boundaries.
~Wonder how long it'll be before Lama Su finds out I'm where I'm not supposed to be.~ He thought as he continued to follow Skirata.
He could've probably protested but a part of him was curious about what the man ahead of him really wanted. The guy didn't strike him as the 'be kind to strangers' sort of person so that meant there was something in it for the man. Depending on how important that something was Kal might not take no for an answer and would just figure out a way to force compliance. Better for him to just play along for now and if things went South he'd just blame it on the old guy.
"So what'd El-les and Lama Su tell you about the Grand Army?" Skirata asked even as the number of troopers in the hallways began to rise.
"Not a whole lot. That they'd been training for the last decade because war'd been on the horizon and that a little over a year ago the fighting started." He replied keeping things summed up, "Sounded like he was happy with the troopers that passed. Mentioned Domino Squad the most."
"Figures. Domino squad was a lot like your group." Kal said sounding like he didn't agree with the short'n'sweet summary of the Grand Army, "Five guys that'd been side by side through their training from the beginning but never really came together until the end. Turns out it was a need to prove that pile of Siniteen poodoo Bric wrong that brought them together. El-les mentions them at least once a week whenever he thinks the rest of us are planning on giving up on another squad."
"Bric your typical hardass instructor that thinks insulting cadets every other time he opens his mouth is the perfect way to bring out the best in them?" He asked imagining how bad someone had to be to make a group of misfits unite just to spit in his eye.
"Something like that. We're all hard on'em because the clankers sure as hell aren't going to go easy on them." Kal said after a moment's hesitation, "But Bric's like a lot of people here on Kamino. Thinks the troops are beneath him from the beginning and not much better than trained loth-wolves."
"Well they probably come from all over the Republic to train right?" He asked rhetorically even as he made a note to avoid Bric in the future, "With that kind of variety it only makes sense that there'd be some that need more help than others."
"That's just it kid." Kal said tapping the key to the right of a door to get it to open, "The troopers I train here don't come from all over the Republic."
Entering the room a little confused he quickly became very shocked when he looked at what appeared to be a large classroom with dozens of cadets all sitting in front of screens working. Sure there was the odd Kaminoan walking about but they looked to be observers more than instructors. However the thing that'd shocked him was the fact that every single student in the room was identical in every way from their faces to their hair to the size of their bodies. Clad in clothes that were also identical he tried to fathom how this could be because without some serious genetic tinkering it wouldn't matter if the same man and woman had this man kids they'd still be different. Then a possibility clicked in his brain and while it would've been impossible back home with this dimension's tech it was all too feasible.
"Clones. They're all clones." He said still on his way out of the shock he'd been feeling.
"Yep. Clones of Jango Fett after he won some competition set up by a guy called Tyrranus. They saw him as the best warrior in the galaxy and the perfect person to grow their army from." Kal said with a twinkle of approval in his eyes, "Not sure about the best warrior bit but Tyrranus could've done worse and gone with that bastard Montross. Anyway the Kaminoans took the DNA Jango gave'em and ever since they've been growing copies of them for me and the others to train. It's tough work and not all of them make the cut in the end but the ones that leave here are the best they can be and just need experience to make them even better."
While it was a bit much to be told that the Kaminoans were literally growing clones here to fight in a war another part of him wondered what this had to do about his squad mates. They didn't look anything like the Jango Fett copies in front of him so why…
"They're clones too." He said voicing the conclusion his brain had sprung to.
"Yep. The Kaminoans might not be infamous across the entire galaxy but they have a good enough reputation that if someone wants some cloning done they know Kamino's the place to go." Kal said with a nod before grabbing a random data pad that was close by and plugging something into it, "Most of the time their customers are happy with what they get but every once in awhile the clone gets rejected and left here."
To be honest he wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Back home there'd been more than one movie or TV show that'd dealt with the topic of duplicating someone either with science or magic but he'd never really given it much thought. It wasn't like Earth was ever going to master cloning a human being in his lifetime and there seemed to be two lines of thought on the subject. One was that cloning a sentient being was wrong since it trespassed on the territory of the divine and undermined the uniqueness of human life. The other was that regardless of how they'd been created or for what purpose clones had the same irrefutable rights as any naturally born human being and should be treated with basic respect.
Thinking on the matter seriously he didn't need more than a minute to come to his own conclusion.
"It's not right." He said his eyes narrowing in resolve.
"What isn't?" Skirata asked with mild curiosity.
"Even if the Kaminoans made them the second these troopers started becoming unique people they stopped being things and started being people." He replied looking the man straight in the eyes, "People shouldn't have to do things they don't want to do. Do these clones even know they have a choice?"
"Some of them but most of them know they wouldn't get very far if they tried to leave." Skirata replied a faint grin on his face, "Their education is very narrow. They're only taught things a soldier would need to in order to do their duty. Doesn't exactly make it easy to become a civilian or set up a farm on some out of the way planet. Some of them are even proud that they're fighting for the Republic in a war of this size."
He could tell with that last statement that Kal didn't think the clones should be happy at all about being slaves to the Republic but approved of their wanting to get in on the war. Made it look like if the Republic had given the clones a say in the matter and paid them fair compensation everything'd be just dandy. Instead the clones of Jango Fett were expected to fight just because that was what they'd been grown for and any who refused were probably labelled 'defective'.
He might not be as pissy about getting handed a job like Buffy but he was right there with her in the 'right to choose' department.
"What about my team?" He asked wanting to know more about them.
"Thought you might ask that so I called in a favour for some light slicing." Kal replied typing away on the data pad he'd plugged something into, "Had them find out what they could about your squad. Take a look."
Taking the pad he could see four files waiting to be opened on the screen but like he'd expected the size of each file wasn't all that big. Either the Kaminoans had never bothered to look all that deeply into the background of their clients and their wishes for the clones or the slicer hadn't been able to dig any deeper without getting caught. Whatever the case he clicked on the first file and saw that it was Moko Byl's.
According to the file Moko was cloned from the DNA of a Togruta woman who lived on the planet Shili as the heir to a powerful tribal lord. The client was a male of the species who insisted that the clone be indistinguishable from the original in every way save that it would be deferential to him in everything. A note in the file hypothesized that the male had wished that the source of the DNA be his mate so that he could rise up to rule the tribe. However the Togruta woman had repeatedly rejected his overtures despite several of them being considerably expensive. The male's solution was to simply clone the woman he fancied, modify her mentally so that she would behave as he wished and then arrange a switch so the clone could take the original's place.
~Bet the guy's never had a real girlfriend in his entire life.~ He thought with a half snort of disgust.
Sadly when the day came to collect the clone the client had taken one look at Moko and became quite furious. Despite the fact that the Kaminoans had used every resource available to them in order to ensure Moko's body matched the tribal heir's body the male had acted like they'd done a half-assed job of it. Efforts of course had been made to placate the client including an offer to have the clone surgically modified in order to meet his requirements but it'd all been for naught. The man had left after receiving a full refund and had left the people of Kamino to do what they would with the clone.
There were a few more notes in the file indicating that Moko had not reacted well to the rejection of the male Togruta but that was only natural since she'd apparently been programmed to be subservient to him. It was like one of those scenes where a girl got to meet the guy of her dreams with the idea of living happily ever after with him only to be verbally torn to pieces by the man. With such an episode to her past it was no wonder Moko acted like she did and it made him want to help her break free of that asshole's words in any way he could.
The next file was Ziru's and while not as tragic as Moko's did give him a better idea of what he was dealing with. Apparently the Chiss nation was an aristocratic oligarchy led by the nine highest families, run by the forty great houses and populated by the rest of the race. Mostly isolationist the Chiss kept only minimal ties with select races in the galaxy and refused to get involved with any crisis or confrontation that everyone else was involved in.
It made him wonder why such a race would even bother to create a clone in the first place but fortunately scrolling down further revealed the answer.
Apparently while rare there were members of the Chiss race that were able to tap into the Force like the Jedi could. While lacking in formal training save what their own people could come up with it did occasionally result in one of them receiving premonitions about the future. It was due to a particularly strong premonition experienced by one of the Chiss' eldest Force users that it was decided by the Syndicure that a representative was needed. There were no details on what the premonition entailed but that such an isolationist people would choose to select a representative to represent their people in talks with other galactic governments implied much. The problem came when efforts were made to decide who the representative would be since even with the organization of their government there was no clear choice to be had.
In the end a bold move was proposed in order to ensure that none of the higher families would be slighted and yet the best possible representative would be sent.
Sufficient DNA would be provided not just by the Nine Ruling Families but also the Forty Great Families to be expertly combined by the Kaminoans so that the best traits would be emphasized while the undesirable ones would be suppressed. Thus in a way it could be said that Ziru was a clone of forty-nine of the most powerful people of their race and made the very best of them. In addition to being the best physically the Kaminoans were also told to educate the cloned representative both in the Chiss material provided and in what she would need to know in order to effectively interact with the other governments of the galaxy.
Then the day came for the representative of the Syndicure to take custody of Ziru and send her on her way.
After ten minutes of discussion though the whole thing became pointless when his sniper killed the representative renouncing him and the people she'd been born of as being inferior to her. Naturally this hadn't gone over well when the Chiss Syndicure had been informed and Ziru was classified as a mistake to be discarded no doubt with all mention of the proposal leading to her creation stricken from every Chiss record.
This explained a lot about her perfectionist and elitist tendencies since she saw herself as the pinnacle of her people refusing to give anyone reason to think otherwise. Unfortunately the only two ways he could think of to make her value teamwork more and be less abrasive to her teammates would be to either destroy her self-image of superiority or enhance her opinion of the rest of them. While she was the first Chiss he'd ever met he doubted that the race was as superior as Ziru thought and letting her elitist attitude persist would only endanger the squad. A part of him looked forward to forcing her to accept that while skilled she was not without flaws while another thought that if he could successfully improve the other three Ziru would come around.
~Definitely need to see if I can get records of her training sessions before being assigned to my squad.~ He thought pondering his options, ~They could help me figure out how much I have to improve the others or how hard it'd be to put some cracks in her perfect self-image.~
Crei's file was smallest of the four and according to the summary the client simply wanted the best mate possible since none of the ones he'd wooed thus far lasted very long. Based on the file it didn't sound like the guy wanted a sex toy or something to sire a child with but rather a female that literally wouldn't break either in mind or body as easy as a natural born. To this end the Kaminoans modified certain gene sequences in the genetic material provided to enhance the physical durability and mental resiliency before starting the cloning procedure. The file stated that preliminary tests two years ago confirmed an increase in both areas with the only anomaly being the presence of personality traits more common to male Devaronians than the females. The client's phrasing made him cringe and when he tried to picture someone who intentionally pushed the women he came to fancy to the breaking point he didn't like what popped up. The fact that the man had the funds to pay the Kaminoans to create Crei implied much about the man but in the end the entire thing fell through.
Apparently a relation of one of the previous women the man had 'broken' had murder on the brain and was successful even if the killer didn't last much longer than his target had. As a result Crei was good to go but had no client to claim her so the Kaminoans did their best to get something out of all the effort they'd put into creating Devaronian girl.
Last but not least was Kayla's file and predictably this one was closer to what he'd initially expected given that all four of his squad mates could be considered beautiful in one way or another. Apparently the client had been the manager of one of the more popular clubs on Zeltros and THE most popular one in its hemisphere. Zeltros by its nature was a party planet where if you weren't having the time of your life the locals would do their absolute best to fix that. While the sexual fun was a dominant form of fun on the planet it was by no means the only source since foreplay took many forms and not everyone got hot under the collar the same way. According to the file the client had noticed a steady decline in business over the course of six months and while not much if it continued it could lead to quite a bit of trouble. Thus efforts were made to spice things up and provide something at the club that customers wouldn't be able to get anywhere else on the planet.
Some progress was made but not enough to satisfy the client.
Thus in the end it was decided that if conventional 'entertainers' were not enough to keep the club on top then perhaps science would prove capable of making one. As such DNA was acquired from a female Zeltron that in her prime had been the unquestioned best time a person could ask for but simple replication wasn't the goal. Indeed the club owner wanted all the attributes an 'entertainer' needed in order to be successful on Zeltros enhanced beyond what could be naturally achieved. Nothing was to be visibly different on the surface since the DNA source had been the epitome of female Zeltron physical perfection in her prime but rather modifications were made 'under the hood'. It was the club manager's belief that if she had employees that looked better than the competition and could 'outperform' the competition then she'd be able to bury the competition from a business point of view. Oh she wouldn't replace all her staff with modified clones but rather reserve the copies as exclusive VIP options that a customer would have to pay quite a bit of credits to spend even an hour with.
Unfortunately for the client the prototype clone turned out to have developed a few quirks as a result of the modifications made beneath the surface. When the club manager brought three respected repeat customers with her to give Kayla a test drive the results were as varied as they were profound. The first only lasted halfway before the prototype's enthusiasm strained a few things to a dangerous degree. The second fared a little better in that he made it all the way through but afterwards began to exhibit worrisome withdrawal symptoms that could poorly affect the club owner's business. As for the last…well…after injury and withdrawal symptoms were dealt with using medication the desire of the last customer to be granted exclusive access to the clones in exchange for a generous monthly stipend threw a spanner into things.
In terms of profit this would have been quite the windfall for the club owner allowing her to expand her business as well as allow for the importing of goods previously too expensive for her.
Too bad the woman had her pride and self-respect.
She flatly turned the customer down stating that he was free to come by her club from time to time to have some fun but she was not going to let her business or any of her girls become his personal property.
The man stormed off shortly afterwards and the club owner departed as well but it was only a few short weeks later that some disappointing news reached Kamino. Evidently the man who wanted to be the only one Kayla or those that came after her 'entertained' had chosen to initiate a hostile takeover of the club in every sense of the word. Apparently the idiot thought that if he became the owner of the club Kayla and all of the sisters that'd follow would legally be his rather than belong to the previous owner of the club. The battle was fierce and no tactic known to the Zeltron was left unused but in the end the club was utterly destroyed, both the previous manager as well as the possible future one were dead and the monarchy chose to forbid artificial entertainers like Kayla.
As a result his combat engineer had no place to go and probably wouldn't be all that welcome in Zeltron territory if she decided to visit one day.
There were a few annotations in the files indicating that after the war with the Separatists began the Kaminoans put each member of his team through combat training. While the cloners could've just had them do menial labour and chores on their world it was judged that they would be of more use as some part of the Republic war effort. The files didn't say much on where they would've been assigned or when they would've been presented to the Republic but given what he'd seen of their skills he wouldn't have been too much longer.
~Damn. If I thought our squad was dysfunctional before…~ he thought even as Skirata patiently waited for him to absorb what he'd learned, ~All of them have been cast aside or have chosen to reject the plans of others. They're far from being the sort of soldiers most boot camps spit out but they're still capable of getting the job done.~
He couldn't help but smile since in his mind that made them prime candidates for the Scoobies.
"Oh really? Planning on replacing me and Buffy already?" A familiar voice asked causing him to look to the right, "You plan on fucking all of them too?"
Turning his head his eyes beheld the spectre that was trying to convince him it was Willow and with a glance he confirmed that Kal Skirata couldn't see her. Since he didn't want to be labelled a crazy person he willfully ignored her and turned back to the instructor of clone soldiers. The ghost or whatever it was would probably be pissed but he could resist reacting to it long enough to get someplace more private.
"Thanks for the info." He said with a respectful nod of gratitude, "I think it'll be just what I need to get my squad on the same side instead of their own sides."
"Just do right by them and you'll owe me nothing." Skirata said possibly having noticed the odd behaviour seconds ago, "Too many people treat clones like property, like things, and far too few see them as people."
"I'm a simple guy." He said with a lopsided grin, "If they look like a person, sound like a person and act like a person then that's what they are. Anyone who says different should be checked for brain damage."
This surprised Kal a bit but the surprise changed to mirth causing a bit of brief chuckling to come forth.
"I'll see you around kid." Kal said walking towards the door, "Get your squad up to speed 'cause I'd feel a lot better knowing there's a team that has their heads on straight."
With that the man was gone but the spectre pretending to be Willow was still glaring at him with hateful malicious oil black eyes. While odd that she hadn't gone into a rant he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth so he left the classroom of the Fett clone cadets making his way for a part of the city few people passed through. True he'd prefer it if the ghost or whatever it was just went away and left him alone he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen until she'd fastball specialed her two cents at him.
Better to just get it over with than uselessly try to avoid it.
She seemed to be able to pop up wherever he was and no one could see her but him so in the interests of appearing sane to everyone on Kamino a private rant was better than a public one. Five minutes later they'd arrived so he leaned up against the wall and patiently waited for the spectre to say or do whatever she planned on doing. She'd already made it clear she wanted to go for the pain rather than the kill whether the pain be physical or mental so in his mind the odds were high that he'd be able to stagger back to his room.
It'd just take longer and probably earn him some looks by anyone who saw him.
"You'll screw up. You always screw up and even if you don't it won't change what you are." The spectre 'Willow' said in a tone that sent a chill down his spine, "You're a boy that killed his best friend because of what she MIGHT do. Killed ME because I might slip back into dark magic in the future. You really think a piece of shit like that deserves anything but a lonely painful death somewhere in the ass end of the galaxy?"
With that she vanished and he was left feeling like he would've preferred it if she almost made his Od burn through his skin from the inside.
Not because she'd painted a pretty horrible way for someone to die but rather because he couldn't bring himself to disagree.
He took friendship very seriously and one best friend murdering another best friend based on a 'MIGHT' scenario pretty much earned the guilty one a seat in the ninth circle of hell.
Right next to Satan himself.
With the old light bringer actually feeling sorry for him.
Like a corpse devoid of life he walked on autopilot back to his room and lay down his bed.
Not because he was tired but rather because he lacked the will to do anything else.
The Living Quarters of the Rejected Clones
Moko Byl's POV
"There. Done." She said softly looking upon the finished maintenance of her gear.
It was something she had originally done simply because she'd been told it was her duty to do so and because she had some experience with such duties working to maintain the training equipment of the Fett clones. While Ninety-nine might've cleaned up the debris from the various training rooms and carry malfunctioning blaster rifles it often fell to her and a few others to repair and maintain their training armour and equipment. It wasn't a particularly difficult task merely requiring that the person follow the procedures step by step and know how to operate the necessary equipment.
She'd heard one Kaminoan say that a child could do it if need be.
After she'd been selected to be a member of Xander's training squad she'd been provided with basic gear and equipment in order to fulfill her role. She'd…she'd mentioned how she had barely received any training since the war had begun and didn't have much real life experience using it. However she'd been told that she would undergo a more intense version of flash training leading up to her first session with Xander to ensure she would be up to the job.
It…it had been an unpleasant experience that had left her mind in a haze for hours while it recovered.
While the flash training had done its job though it had also shaken her to her core enough that it'd left her almost paralyzed during the first training session. She'd TRIED to do as asked but whenever she'd managed to build up enough resolve to fire her rifle or even rise from behind her cover it only took the threat of danger or a sign of strength to make her cower once more.
She was worthless.
A pale reflection of the one whose blood she was grown from!
SHE DID NOT DESERVE TO BE SPOKEN OF IN THE SAME DISCUSSION AS *HER*!
But then he spoke to her, specifically her, and it touched a deep part of her without breaking it.
~I know this is hard but you wouldn't be here if El-les didn't think you could do this!You've trained for this! This is your chance to prove to everyone that your last failure was just a fluke! I'll be with you every step of the way! Trust me!~
Words.
She'd heard them before but never spoken with such belief or conviction.
Her earliest memories were of the Kaminoans preparing her for the day when she would meet her fated one and join him on Shili as intended. Flash training and instruction from a Kaminoan teacher educated her faster than would've been possible using conventional teaching methods so as not to keep her fated one waiting. However when they taught her there was no warmth, no encouragement, simply acknowledgment if she succeeded and disappointment if she failed. She had made a few attempts to reach out to them, to befriend them, only to be dismissed and made to focus on her studies.
As she grew older and wiser she came to realize they did not see her as a person but rather a product no better than a custom piece of technology being prepared for a customer. A person did not talk unnecessarily to a data pad, they did not make efforts to encourage a data pad and if the data pad failed to do what it was made to do then it would be discarded immediately. With warmth denied to her by her creators she'd focused on her studies comforted by the certainty that her fated one would be different.
She could not help the trembling that began to manifest in her hands upon the memory of the day all joy left her life.
She had diligently prepared, clad herself in the clothes of the one whose blood she had been grown from and stood ready a short distance from the door for her fated one. When the door opened she recognized him immediately and her heart soared at the journey of joy she was about to undertake with him. She spoke to him with words of deep respect and affection before waiting to hear his reply…
…only to receive his condemnation instead!
Abomination he called her before directing his anger towards the Kaminoan that had led him to the room rejecting the results of their efforts. Insult after slur flew from his lips each one adding a new emotional scar to her soul. She had tried to apologize, begged to be allowed to atone for however she had angered him, but all he did was strike her so hard across the face that she fell to the ground. Renounced as unworthy of even existing her fated one stormed out of the room with his Kaminoan guide following close behind.
Leaving her with naught but her agonizing sorrow and the warm tears trickling down her cheeks as she grieved over the loss of her one true dream.
In the days that followed she had acted of no will save those of the Kaminoans. She no longer cared what happened to herself and years later when they had chosen to begin instructing her in combat to be of use to the Republic in the war against the Separatists she'd welcomed it. For in war it was not unexpected to get hurt or even die and if she were being honest she welcomed the latter if only to bring an end to a miserable existence.
Now…
…now she began to wonder if there might be more to the beliefs of the Jedi than the Kaminoans believed.
Talk of the Jedi and their beliefs were not a common occurrence on Kamino but ever since one of them commissioned the creation of a clone army idle chatting did pop up. From their various supposed abilities to their beliefs all was debated at various lengths including the idea that an energy field created by all life somehow guided people without them realizing it. No matter what occurred or how it seemed to contradict previous statements Jedi would merely state that it was the will of 'the Force' that events transpired as they had.
It was this and what had happened since that first team training session that caused her mind to ponder if the man of her race was NOT in fact her fated one.
What if it was in fact Xander?
Could all that she had been through from her earliest memory to the present merely been to prepare her for her true intended?
She shook her head as her mind reflexively dismissed the notion. It was impossible. From blood to body to her ideal form she had been prepared for just one person only to be rejected by him in the cruelest manner possible. No wishful thinking or mystical energy could change that. With the meaning of her existence cast into the abyss there was nothing more to do than to allow chance to have its way with her to whatever end it chose.
But if it meant she could spend a bit more time with Xander…
…perhaps life would be a little more bearable.
Unnoticed by her a small and quiet smile had formed on her face.
"What're you smirkin' about?" A loud voice asked from below her bunk.
Yanked rather abruptly from her thoughts she looked down to see it was her teammate Crei freshly woken from the nap she'd chosen to take. Flustered at what might have been seen or inferred she tried to come up with some safe excuse but so frantic was her mind that nothing really came to mind.
"N-nothing!" She sputtered out quickly putting her things away so she could close her bunk and hide.
"Tch! Whatever weakling." Crei snapped out before getting out of her bunk, "Just don't hold us back like you used to. I got plans and I'm not going to let you get in my way. Got that?"
"Y-yes." She said almost perfectly storing her things away.
"Good. If anyone asks I'll be in the gym." Crei said striding away to the exit of the living quarters, "Got some things I need to fix."
Seeing the Devaronian vanish from sight as the door slid shut she felt relief at no longer being confronted by the gaze of so aggressive a woman. Crei had always intimidated her and not just because of the natural strength afforded to the woman by her race but also due to the red skinned girl's powerful will. Of the five of them Crei was always the first to charge and the last to heed a call to retreat never once showing signs of regret regardless of the outcome. Most considered this a sight of the girl's battle mania and lack of intelligence but to her these things represented something else.
Something she very much wished that she herself possessed.
An unwavering confidence in herself.
In none of the training scenarios the squad had been through had the Devaronian ever shown even a shred of doubt or fear. Instead she strode forth making it clear in everything she did that she intended to win no matter the odds against her. If Crei was a roaring inferno defying the winds that tried to snuff it out she could only be considered the small flicking flame of a candle struggling to keep itself from oblivion.
Only thanks to the protection afforded to her by her teammates had she been kept from being knocked out by the weapons of their mechanized opponents.
It was then though that something occurred to her, something Crei had said, that left her baffled.
~'Just don't hold us back like you used to'. That's what she said.~ She thought as he mind dissected the statement for its meaning, ~Does…does that mean I've gotten better?~
Though it didn't seem possible she could think of any other way to interpret Crei's words that fit the memories she had of their training sessions together.
Thus did a spark manifest within her.
A spark of hope that one day she might be fit to stand amongst the strong.
A Little Under Two Months Later
Clone Gym
Crei Menect's POV
~Soft. Far too soft!~ She thought as she continued to bench press almost more weight than her body was capable of.
It was the only thing she could say about her 'squad leader' even after weeks of going through El-Les's team training scenarios.
Oh sure he had some qualities that kept him from being a complete waste but a true leader possessed strength enough to inspire loyalty in their followers and fear in their enemies. This strength took the form of physical prowess and a long list of victorious battles against worthy foes. Thus far the most admirable things she'd seen in Xander had been his fearlessness and his loyalty to the squad but that was about it. Aside from those two things she saw nothing she could respect and that was why it was infuriating that he had been made squad leader instead of her. Out of the five of them she was the strongest, the toughest and most ready to face any foe head on! Through her strength she would've led her squad and crushed every scenario El-Les put in front of her!
However no matter how many times she'd brought the matter up to the trainer of clones the response was always the same: if she wanted to take the position of squad leader she had to prove herself worthy of it. Too bad for her the definition of worthy was subjective and she suspected that El-Les' version was quite different from the one she had. It was one of the reasons why she often spent some time in the gym: to work off her dissatisfaction and frustration from the latest training scenario. With the various machines in the gym there was something for working every muscle in her body and thankfully all of them were designed with various races in mind.
It would've pissed her off if everything in the gym was only designed with the clone troopers in mind because they were only minimally stronger than the natural ones.
~Forty-five…forty-six…forty-seven…forty-eight…forty-nine…FIFTY.~ She thought concluding her set of reps.
Sitting up she looked about the gym to decide what to do next because she still had enough frustration in her that she doubted she'd get any sleep if she went back to her bunk now. Before she could reach a decision though the door opened to reveal the last person she wanted to be in the same room with: Xander. Clad in clothes issued to every clone trooper he only spared her a passing glance before going over to where the free weights were located. This caused her to frown since it felt a little too much he'd judged her as not being worth her attention and that stung her pride.
HE who was less than HER judged her as UNWORTHY!
"Don't bother 'leader'." She said snidely moving to the free weights herself, "You're not going to get any stronger even if you lifted every weight in the room. Better to head to the range and work on your aim."
"Can't just rely on my gun." Xander said picking up two weights before starting a set of reps, "It can run out of power or get damaged. Besides fists sometimes work better."
"Not against droids they don't." She said angry that he was ignoring her advice, "Try punching one of them and all you'll get is a broken hand."
"So I won't punch them. There's kicking and throwing and stomping to try." He said keeping a steady pattern of lifting then lowering going, "Besides even if my blaster runs out of power I can probably use it as a club if I need to and that'll work best if I got the muscle to do more than leave dents."
"More like you'll get disintegrated trying." She said grabbing two of the larger free weights before settling into her own pattern, "If clubs're all the troopers needed to scrap droids they wouldn't have spent a fortune on blasters and thermal detonators."
"I'm not saying I'd take on an entire battalion with just my fists and feet." He said finally looking at her to glare, "Just that if I can't shoot them there'll still be some options."
~Cocky fool!~ She thought at the idea that a human could do anything with such a weak body, ~Needs to be put in his place.~
Then an idea occurred to her that might just humble Xander and lead to her being made squad leader.
"Prove it." She said putting the free weights back, "Spar with me on the mats. Prove you can hold your own and maybe I'll decide you're not as squishy as I thought."
"That mean you'll listen to me more in the training scenarios?" He asked with a raised eyebrow of interest.
"At best I'll consider you decent backup." She replied not willing to accept him fully as squad leader.
If her idea worked out by the end of the day she wouldn't need to accept him at all.
Accidents did happen after all and it'd hardly be her fault if the human overestimated his abilities.
"Lead the way." He said gesturing towards the training mats on the floor of the gym.
With a smile of confidence she did as asked pleased by how she would humble her 'leader' and prove her superiority beyond a shadow of a doubt. It didn't take long for each of them to put on the training gear designed to minimize unnecessary injury to the combatants and assume ready positions.
"So we going to first blood? Best of three? Knockout?" He asked showing he had something in his skull to ask those questions.
"How about if you don't get back to your feet by the count of ten, get knocked down three times in less than three minutes or get knocked out you lose?" She suggested remembering a sport that'd been on the holonet recently, "A decent handicap for me. Just enough to keep things interesting."
"Just don't whine about it when you lose." He said with that stupid grin of his on his face.
"Same to you." She said before lunging in to land the first blow of the match.
A lot of people thought that Devaronians were only capable feats of impressive strength with their muscles but those people were short sighted. Muscles were capable of more than just lifting things or hitting things. They also granted her superior speed when compared to other races and that included humans. This advantage should've been enough to let her get the first hit in but to her surprise Xander managed to dodge her strike and tried to strike her instead. Deciding to get his measure she decided to let his blow land figuring that she was tough enough that it wouldn't do more than turn her head a bit.
The impact, the force behind it, proved to be a bit more than she'd been expecting but regardless it was not going to be a problem. Xander would need to hit her with fifty of those before she began to experience problems and she wasn't that much of a punching bag. Just because a warrior could take the hits doesn't mean they should. Doing so would make them look stupid, slow and unworthy.
With the combat training she'd received and making full use of the hours she'd spent in the gym she worked to knock him to the ground or just plain knock him out. There were no rules about what places could be hit and which ones were off limits so she struck at whatever opportunity presented itself and would get her the results she wanted. This seemed to take Xander by surprise, almost as though he had a different list of targets in his head, but this only helped her in the end. More of her attacks landed then missed and she could tell that her 'squad leader' was feeling the pain. Deciding to build on the pain she began to focus her attacks on spots that she'd done damage to before and as she'd expected Xander doubled his efforts to protect those spots.
Just like she wanted.
She let this go for a full minute but then she executed a feint one way before slamming an uppercut into Xander's jaw that succeeded in sending him to the floor.
"That's one knockdown and I was going easy on you." She said with a victorious smirk, "Good thing for you the three minutes are almost up. Wanna bet on how long you'll last next round?"
"Now that warm ups are over…" Xander said as he rose to his feet, "…I plan on making you get REAL comfy on these matts."
"Big talk." She said before delivering a gesture universally known as 'bring it on', "Let's see if you can back it up."
This is going to be FUN.
A Little Over an Hour Later
The Streets of Tipoca City
Xander's POV
"Ow…ow…ow…ow…" he groaned with every step he took on his way back to his room and the painkillers waiting in the bathroom.
He was beginning to wonder if he really did have masochistic leanings because there weren't too many other explanations for why he chose to spar with Crei for ten rounds OR why he accepted her challenge to see who could do the most reps with escalating amounts of weight. Oh it'd been scaled so that the Devaronian woman wouldn't have an unfair advantage but in the end it turned out that her superior experience weight lifting was enough to bring her victory. He'd managed to keep the pain he was feeling mostly to himself and put up a brave front for Crei to make it look like he'd weathered the competition better than he really had. It'd only been a short while ago once he was sure that his teammate was far enough away that she wouldn't catch anything that he dropped the act.
~I just hope I've earned at least a LITTLE of her respect.~ He thought as he made the turn onto the street that'd take him to his apartment building, ~Not having to trick her into following the plan would be a load off my mind.~
Moko was coming around well enough though her confidence level still needed work before she'd be able to fight without him constantly holding her hand or giving her encouragement. He'd managed to get Kayla to be a little more careful with her explosives and moderately more focused on following the plan than just throwing a ton of long bombs but it was a close thing. It was almost like the Zeltron had an excess of energy to vent and had chosen explosives as a way of keeping from going completely nuts.
As for Ziru…well…as long as he did EVERYTHING he could when he came up with his plan and covered almost all of the angles of the scenario she usually played her part. However if he missed something in her opinion or the plan depended too heavily on either Moko or Kayla he wound up having to pull rank to get her to play along. He'd made attempts to put some cracks in her superiority complex and raise her opinion of her fellow squad mates but had met with mixed results. When he poked at her superiority she either solidly defended her status or simply walked away from him without saying a word as if saying that she refused to dignify his words with a response. As for improving the Chiss' opinion of her teammates that had been a bit more encouraging since as he improved Moko, Crei and Kayla's abilities so too did Ziru lose reasons to look down on them. If he worked hard enough, smartly enough and long enough the sniper would be left with nothing to work with whenever she wished to belittle her teammates.
~Maybe then she'll finally see we're good enough to be her squad mates.~ He thought entering his apartment building.
Thinking on the scenarios El-Les had been putting them through he had to think that they were at or just past the midway point in the team training. Elements were repeating themselves and new ones were on the down swing. He couldn't come up with a number as to how long it'd be before El-Les ran out of ideas but he doubted that it'd be more than six months. After that he'd either be put through another kind of combat training to better prepare him for the galaxy at war or they'd suggest planets that'd he might like to make a home on.
Strange thing was whenever he contemplated this he couldn't really decide whether he liked option A or option B.
It was odd because at any one point in a person's life they usually had some sort of opinion or goal in mind. Even if it was only instinct they knew what they wanted or liked and made their choices accordingly. Him? He was in a new reality, a new galaxy, with nothing to call his own aside from his body and even that had been modified to be more like Emiya's. He had nothing to build an opinion on from the day he woke up in the bacta tank and even after being educated on this new galaxy he sensed no change within him.
No goal beyond finding a place to live and a job that paid enough to see to his needs.
It didn't take a genius to see that as survival not living.
When he'd marched up to the hill with the intent to kill Willow in order to prevent a future fall he had done so with the full willingness of following her into death. It'd been his belief that someone who killed his best friend, regardless of how valid their reasons were, didn't deserve to go on living. It was both a punishment and a mercy because to live with the guilt that came with such a sinful act would be a hell all its own.
That being said he wouldn't commit suicide.
If chance had decided that he should live to suffer through the guilt for his crime then that is the path he would walk.
If chance chose to have the Kaminoans prepare him for life in this new galaxy he would accept it and take it all in.
Yeah…if he could say anything with true honesty it was that without a will of his own to help him navigate the future he would leave things up to chance.
To whatever end.
Entering his room he planned on getting a nice hot shower in to soothe his aching muscles after which he'd pop two of the painkillers he'd been given during a visit to the infirmary. Rest would take care of the rest and he'd be ready for tomorrow's training scenario whatever it turned out to be.
"You don't think I'm going to let you off that easy do you?" A familiar voice hissed with malicious intent.
"Couldn't you have at least waited until AFTER my shower before starting this shit again?" He groaned before turning towards the imposter masquerading as Willow.
"Do I look like I give a fuck what you want?" Fake Willow asked maliciously from her place close to a window.
"You look like a goth hopped up on angry pills that either needs to get laid or needs a good long belly laugh to tell you the truth." He said flippantly before turning towards the bathroom, "But that's just my opinion."
For the first five or so appearances of the imposter he'd made an effort to talk things out and find out who she really was but when that failed he set a new goal.
A hard goal.
A goal requiring more effort and brain power than he'd ever used before now.
Now was the time to put all that hard work to the test.
"Don't think you can walk away from me!" The imposter yelled and just like he'd been expecting the surge came.
The imposter didn't always use it but it was always the same trick: somehow command his Od, his magic, to run wild in ways both painful as well as destructive. It was either through luck or the imposter's deliberate choice that none of the flare ups had happened when there'd be witnesses. The fake even kept the external manifestations of Od to a minimum so the security troopers didn't come running but this consideration was going to cost her.
As soon as he metaphorically heard the Od coming he brought forth the secret training he'd slapped together when he finally got tired of being someone's joy buzzer. It hadn't been easy but he'd eventually worked out a method of producing enough background noise in his head that the imposter wouldn't catch on to what he was really doing. What was he really doing? Pulling every memory, feeling and instinct he could concerning controlling one's Od out of his brain before hammering it into the best defence he could come up with. It'd been hard work and had pushed his multitasking abilities to new heights but eventually he was mostly confident that he'd put together something workable.
~GOD I hope this works!~ He thought as the two opposing forces clashed.
It was like two opposing football teams colliding while in the middle of the mother of all Roid Rage. The winner of course would be determined by which team was the nastier of the two and wanted the other team dead more. Truth be told thanks to the sort of life he'd led and the crappy parents he'd been forced to live with before finding a place of his own he had quite a bit of repressed anger. More than any of the Scoobies suspected. Sure he'd gotten some chances to vent over the years but that was more something that'd prevented him from going completely postal sooner rather than later. Add to that the fact that the bullies he'd gone through growing up had been some pretty interesting ways of dirty fighting and he liked his odds.
Every time it looked like something would slip up and go against him he managed to swing a surprise comeback to get himself back in the game.
Still didn't mean that he wasn't going through the fight of his life or that his body wasn't going completely rigid both from the Od as well as his efforts to keep it under control.
He didn't know exactly how long this went on given that his focus was centred on keeping the Od within him from going completely off the rails. Eventually though the struggle ended and while he waited until the count of ten just in case it was a false surrender when nothing happened he accepted that he'd won this round.
"Looks like I won this round." He said doing his best to keep from looking or sounding like he was almost completely spent, "Must be losing your touch."
"You'd like to think that wouldn't you Xander?" The imposter asked her barely present frown turning into a sneer, "That you're actually getting stronger, better and faster. Heheheheheh. It's going to be so much FUN when reality punches you in the family jewels and makes you realize that no matter how hard you try you'll never be anything more than a tag-a-long!"
With that she faded out of sight like one of those cheesy old TV special effects until there was no one visibly in the room besides him. Still if every movie he'd ever watched had taught him anything it was that the villain or the monster that viewers thought was gone was in fact waiting for just the right moment for a final impactful move. He kept his guard up, took the time he had to regain as much of his strength as he could manage, patiently waiting for any sign of getting hit with a bonus round of Od combat.
It was almost fifteen minutes by his reckoning before he finally was satisfied that he was safe for the time being and relaxed.
~Straight to bed after the shower and pain meds.~ He thought as he struggled to get to the bathroom, ~I REALLY hope that the saying about pain and gain is true 'cause it'd mean that I just gained a lot!~
A lot of what though he had NO idea.