#796th

OMG, I found a super old and awkward baby clone sketch about my 796th Star Corps clone trooper, Evolve :D

He has a strange eye condition and has to wear special glasses, or rather: goggles. :D

This pic is so old, but I guess still cute :D

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Spending every minute of his downtime searching for the torture chamber he'd seen in the videos he'd watched, Hunter was starting to doubt he would ever find these horrible places. The cruiser was so big and he was just one man, there was no way he could search the entire ship on his own. But he wasn't about to ask the victims what they remembered of those times, he was trying to heal the men not dredge up more painful memories. But without a clue on where to start looking, he wasn't sure if he would ever have the chance to rip out the last reminders of Demolish's evil and cast them aside.

But as much as he wanted to keep searching, Hunter knew he had to focus on his lads and try to put them back together at the same time. So with a heavy sigh, he climbed out of the ventilation shaft he'd been using to speed his search and landing lightly in the corridor. Straightening his tunic and settling his garrison cap in place, he tugged on his gloves and patted the pouch at his hip. He had so much to keep on top of, so many of his lads had been tainted by evil and now Hunter had to try and fix it.

Looking every inch the competent leader he was meant to be, Hunter returned to the main crew area and relaxed a little. He was still separated from them by rank but he felt more secure in his own skin when he was surrounded by the burble of voices and the bustle of his lads moving about in their own daily routines. 'good morning, Sir.' Aquila called, striding over to join Hunter outside the mess. 'good morning, Aquila.' Hunter replied, still finding it a challenge to deal with Aquila's uniqueness but he was learning. 'I hope I didn't keep you waiting long.' 'not at all, Sir. I only arrived a couple of minutes ago.' Aquila offered, glancing at his chrono quickly. 'shall we, Sir?' 'of course, no doubt the General has another busy day for us.' Hunter nodded, entering the mess and heading for the servery. 'there was actually something I wanted to discuss with you, Aquila.' 'of course, Sir. What did you want to discuss?' Aquila replied, collecting his tray and following Hunter to one of the tables. 'there are a few things but specifically, I want to know more about you.' Hunter shrugged, taking a seat at one of the tables. 'you're not like anyone else I've ever encountered.' 'in what way, Sir?' Aquila asked, settling and starting to eat. 'I've never know anyone to be so particular with the way they eat or stick so rigidly to routines.' Hunter offered, sipping his kaf contentedly. 'I'm not bothered by it, I just want to understand.' 'there was a fault with my vat, depriving me of vital nutrients at a young age. As a result, I was hatched with a brain deficiency. Nothing severe enough to warrant termination but it does make my life a little harder.' Aquila explained, eyes down turned as he scraped his scrambled eggs off his toast and set the damp toast aside. 'one of the medics in my last company explained that it's called autism.' 'and this autism is the main reason why you cling to routines and regulations?' Hunter asked, fascinated by the way Aquila made sure all his foods were separate before he started on his eggs. 'that's right, Sir. I find it easier to cope with a strict routine and clear direction in everything. I used to struggle with daily life but now that I have my routines firmly in place, it's easier to cope.' Aquila confirmed, looking up from his plate. 'I can see how that might be beneficial.' Hunter acknowledged, bracing for the hardest part of this conversation. 'would I be correct in thinking that Demolish turned your autism into a weapon to force your compliance?'

Almost instantly, Hunter regretted his words. Aquila tensed up and dropped his fork, a full body shudder taking over as he sat there. Making a rapid choice, Hunter stood and came around to sit beside Aquila, pulling him close and trying to help him through whatever was going on in his head. All Hunter had done in his life and he still felt totally unprepared for this. 'I thought I was doing the right thing, never questioning orders and giving my all to my role. I didn't know any different, I trusted my Commander as I was trained to do. I wasn't trained to deal with the curse of Demolish. I didn't know what to do, we're trained to never question our seniors.' Aquila uttered, leaning into Hunter's chest. 'I thought it was all normal behaviour away from Kamino.' 'it's not your fault, Aquila. You're another victim of that monster. He took advantage of your unique mental state and turned you into his puppet. You are not to blame, for any of what you were pushed into.' Hunter soothed, once again wondering if he would ever succeed with pulling the 796h back together. 'I wish there was some way to help the men understand that I'm not like that. I'm not the monster they think I am, I just don't know how to prove it.' Aquila sighed, drawing back slowly. 'there might be a way, but it will take time.' Hunter offered, releasing his grip slowly. 'a two step process that should get you back onside with the lads.' 'I'd like that Sir.' Aquila nodded, picking up his fork again.

Shuffling over a little and dragging his meal over to him, Hunter settled back in to finish breakfast as he contemplated how best to help Aquila get back in with the rest of his lads. There were a few ideas that might work but only two struck Hunter as being most likely to work. 'I know Demolish had some sort of torture chamber somewhere onboard but I can't find it. Do you know where it is?' Hunter asked, reaching out to lightly squeeze Aquila's shoulder. 'he had more than one and I know where they all are.' Aquila nodded, taking another bite and turning his gaze back to Hunter. 'he had six of them scattered through the lowest levels.' 'tonight, after the lads have all gone to bed, can you show me where they are?' Hunter requested, aiming for a conversational tome instead of an order. 'of course, Sir.' Aquila confirmed, finishing off his eggs and starting on his meat. 'I still have the map I made so I would never get lost again. I didn't want to be beaten again.' 'you don't have to worry about that anymore, Aquila. I won't allow any violence among the lads outside training.' Hunter insisted, scraping up the last scraps of his eggs. 'would it be helpful if you were given a new regs manual, one aimed to help you avoid anymore poisonous influences?' 'I believe so, Sir, but until I had such a manual, I couldn't be sure.' Aquila shrugged, looking around the mess slowly. 'I see.' Hunter grinned, his plans coming together. 'now, just what has the General got in store for me today?' 'it's all right here for you Sir.' Aquila replied, setting his datapad on the table and bringing up the document. 'another busy day, Sir.'

"Weng?"

"Mhmmmmm..." Weng let out sleepily, cracking an eye open. At the side of his bed stood Dagger, looking really shaken while clutching his pillow tightly to his chest. The Sergeant let out a small sigh, but dutifully lifted the corner of his blanket to allow his baby brother to climb in.

"You know there are no monsters under your bed, Dag'ika," Weng said with amusement, immediately wrapping his arms tightly around his quivering brother. "What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

"No..." Dagger replied, looking up at Weng through his long eyelashes. He could feel the younger clone trembling in his arms, being near tears. To comfort him Weng made soothing noises, lightly caressing the strawberry blonde hair. In the end Dagger let out a shaky sigh.

"The Commander has been looking at me," Dagger confessed, biting his lower lip as he did. "I don't know what to make of it...Wen'ika...I'm scared. You'll keep me safe, right?"

Weng froze, instinctively tightening his hold around his vod'ika. They all knew what happened to the brothers Commander Demolish laid his eyes upon. It made him furious to even think about that monster wanting Dagger in that way. It wouldn't happen, not in a million years. Weng would rather die than see any of his brothers broken and hurt.

Gently he tilted Dagger's head upwards until their eyes met. There were streaks of tears on his cheeks that he wiped away with his thumb, all while slowly rubbing the other's back. Smiling softly at Dagger, Weng leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to his brow.

"He won't lay a finger upon you, that's a promise, Dagger," Weng said. "You'll have to be careful, can you promise me that?"

Dagger nodded enthusiastically.

"I will," he replied seriously. Then something in his gaze softened, and Dagger looked just like a small child again. "But can I sleep here with you?" he asked Weng shyly. Weng was surprised that his brother still wanted to stay with him, but did nothing to push him away.

"I thought Akk was your plushie?" he asked with confusion. Dagger only smiled, burying his face in Weng's chest.

"He is. But I feel safe with you."

Weng's heart melted at those words. He hugged Dagger tightly to his chest, making a mental promise to always protect him as they gradually fell asleep.

Rhythm Squadron: Part 1 A highly unusual Squadron, Rhythm Squadron is the only Squadron in the GAR who has spent all of their time together. From their vatting rack, through training and out into the wider galaxy, Rhythm has stood up against all comers and held firm. The only one who breaks their pattern is their Lieutenant, but Rhythm has already accepted him into their tight knit team. Now it's impossible to tell that he wasn't already a longstanding member. 

The other special thing about Rhythm Squadron is that they were part of an experimental training regime. This regime pushed them hard but they met the challenge and were rewarded with both their flight qualifications and general infantry qualifications. On the ground or in the sky, Rhythm Squadron is always in the thick of the fighting.

Each man and his fighter carries two bars of their favourite song, the melody flowing perfectly when the lads are all lined up in armour and battle ready. They swear that their harmony will never be broken, so long as the song is spread over them all. Downtime is spent in song and dance, the team practising new routines and sounds to entertain their brothers in the evenings. They know the stories of Demolish but came in after he was killed.

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"Oh but for Force's sake...!" Forly muttered, turning sharply around in bed again. It felt like he'd been at it for hours now, just trashing around in bed unable to sleep. It helped to sleep in a room full of brothers when you suffered from insomnia, but this went beyond it all.

Someone was snoring. Someone was going to die.

“Don’t think about it, Forlorn…” Forly whispered to himself, repeating the words over and over. It simply didn’t help. Nothing helped. Earplugs didn’t help, the noise went right through them. Counting nerfs jumping over a fence most definitely didn’t help. And every last one of his squad mates was sleeping peacefully. Only Forly lied painfully awake. He was all alone, king of the sleepless. Or at least it felt like that. It was cold too. Great…

The snoring came from under him. This meant that it was no one the less than Sergeant Hopper who was snoring like a chainsaw. And that put Forly in a difficult position. He didn’t want to get up and wake Hopper, his Sergeant would just be mad at him and he didn’t want to start a fight. Typical for him, always too shy to ask for what he needed. But at the same time he needed to sleep, and he could only achieve that if the awful noises stopped.

Alright then, lie awake all night if you must… Forly thought, sighing loudly. He supposed that he’d have to make the effort, since he wouldn’t gather enough courage to get up and wake Hopper anyway…

One particularly loud snore cut right through the layers of his pillow and earplugs. Forly’s eyes flew open. That was it! He couldn’t take this any more!

Without thinking Forly jumped out of bed, grabbing his pillow in the process. For a few, vital seconds he watched Hopper in his bunk, laying sprawled out on his belly with arms, legs and blanket in one big mess. Snoring. Forly narrowed his eyes, raising the pillow theatrically high over his head. Then completely without remorse Forly rammed the pillow down on Hopper’s back with all the force he could muster.

Hopper let out a loud yelp, suddenly being wide awake. He begun to flail uncontrollably, only managing to tangle himself in the blanket even more. Forly watched with half horror half sheer amusement how his Sergeant and dear friend managed to twist enough to send himself flying out of bed. Forly didn’t regret a thing as he took in the mess that was Hopper. He hadn’t quite expected to have that power when it came to waking someone…

“Shut. Up,” Forly hissed, glaring down at the confused Sergeant for a short while before beginning to climb up to his own bunk again. “You snore.”

***

“Do I even want to know where that bruise came from?” Hunter asked, eyeing the pair warily. Forly rolled his eyes, ignoring the sharp glare coming from Hopper. Granted Forly didn’t regret his nightly raid, but he hadn’t gotten much sleep after it either. Hopper had made sure of that.

“We had a disagreement, so I hit him with a pillow,” Forly replied truthfully in the end. He was no liar. Hunter widened his eyes slightly in disbelief, then shook his head like he usually did when he and Hopper was up to no good. “I don’t even want to know.”

Typo squadron: Part 2 A fractured, unlikely team of men, Typo Squadron was built from survivors, misfits and narrow escapes. Each one has their own tragic story but together, they strengthen and protect each other against all who would threaten their band of brothers. They had to deal with a lot of attitude from other pilots, no one likes the idea of flying beside a batch of typos but they rose up and found a new solution. No one challenges Raindance Squadron in open space and no one can tear apart Typo on the deck.

Squadron insignia is a circle of thirteen feathers, shafts to the inside and each feather a different colour. Crash introduced the pattern, reinforcing the unity he was trying to bring back into Typo. Aside from the bright circle of feathers, their fighters are all standard dull white and red with turquoise edging along the wings and around the cockpit.

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Tooth swore for surely the thousandth time that afternoon, but he was determined like never before to finish his work. Dough were plastered to various parts of his body and his hair had nearly gone white from flour. Still in his arms was the finished result of hours with blood, sweat and tears: the first diet friendly cake he'd ever made. And it wouldn't be the last one, Tooth had a feeling of.

It was all Virus' fault. How could Tooth have known that feeding an overweight person cookies could lead to an ugly death? He'd been terrified, refused to calm down even after he'd told Iray about it. He'd nearly smacked his lover when he'd laughed and said it was fine, but Tooth had rather quickly been forced to reconsider when Iray had given him hugs and kisses to soothe him. In that moment Tooth had made an important decision. He'd keep feeding his precious fatty cookies without leading him towards an early grave.

Which had led him to the diet friendly cookie recipes in the first place.

Tooth knew that he should've cleaned up, but he simply couldn't will himself to do that. His mind was painfully stuck on Iray. Would he like it? While Tooth knew that he would, it didn't stop the nervousness that'd been slowly building within him for the past few hours. Tooth swallowed, forcing himself to take a deep, fekking breath as he reached the barracks. Absent mindedly he keyed the code before stepping inside.

He ignored a few comments from his squadron, mostly being about him taking after Iray in eating. On a regular day Tooth would've flown on them like a furious, matchstick thin torpedo. Sadly this wasn't a regular day, Tooth was too spent to take offense. Carefully he sat the cake down on his bed, daring anyone to steal it with a nasty glare around the room. Next thing Tooth dragged a small table normally used for sabbac playing up to the bunks, then two chairs. He moved the cake right onto the table, and then all he could do was to take a seat and wait for Iray to show up.

Minutes passed, although it felt like years. Tooth took his time to brush flour and dough off him, although he discovered that, -much to his annoyance-, most of it had gotten stuck on him, and only a shower would have the power to take it away. Tooth growled, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor as he wondered where the fek Iray where at. That wasn't fair of him, if he wanted Iray to come quickly he should've commed him, but thinking logically wasn't Tooth's strong suit.

"Boo."

Tooth yelled and roared in sheer terror, sending a knee painfully hard up into the table while the rest of him flailed desperately. Too late he realized that his chair had tipped backwards, and wailing at the top of his lungs Tooth fell. Just as he was about to hit the floor with a loud crash strong, yet soft arms wrapped around his frame, pulling him up into a standing position. Tooth barely heard the chair fall, he was too busy fighting to get his footing back. Loud, booming laughter cut through the air, and in an instant Tooth's distress had been replaced with anger.

"IRAY!" Tooth scowled, pushing and pulling harshly at the strong arms still wrapped around him, to no avail. Iray only laughed louder, spinning Tooth around in the embrace while capturing the smaller clone's lips in a somewhat sloppy kiss. This was normally when Tooth forgot to be angry and kissed back. Normally, that was. Iray pulled back slowly when it dawned on him that Tooth's still lips wouldn't miraculously start moving, looking down at him with a slight frown of concern. Tooth couldn't make himself meet his lover's eyes, gaze dropping down to his feet instead.

"What?" Iray asked, cupping Tooth's face with his big hands. "What are you sulking over now, cyar'ika?"

Tooth looked up with a glare at his lover, indicating with a shrug of his shoulder towards the abandoned cake at the table.

"I bake you diet friendly cakes so that you won't have to die from abstinence, and in return you keep jumping up on me despite all of the times I've told you not to."

Following the trail of Iray's eyes Tooth could see how they instantly were drawn to the cake, then widening, looking clearly baffled. Tooth smirked, taking the opportunity to snuggle up to his lover. Seemingly absent mindedly Iray begun to rub his back, then without warning he was hauled up for a long kiss. Tooth yelped in surprise against the lips pressed against his own, but this time he lazily indulged himself, happy murmurs expressing his contentment.

"For me, T'ika?" Iray still sounded completely stunned.

"Yeah," Tooth replied with a shrug. "I don't bake for anyone, you know."