Me, writing Lucky Batch fics after all this time? More likely than you think.
This one is on @namesmox oc, Skip! I just wanted an excuse to have Kenhla call him Skipper :)
Skipper
The ship crashed in the middle of the battle, fire and blasters exploding around him as it dived straight into the ground. The world had gone black for a moment, the air sucked out of his lungs, and Skip barely had enough time to recover consciousness and wriggle his way out of the wreck before he could finally understand what the shouting was all about.
“Round them up from the left!” The General shouted, sprinting in his direction after three battle droids disappeared hurriedly behind the foliage, a strange device in their grasp. “We’ll go after the bomb!"
The what—?
“Skip, with me!”
It was automatic: he shoved down every flaring pain that he might’ve felt and got up on his feet in a flash, catching up to Kenhla as she ventured into the jungle. They pushed through giant leaves and trunks, leaping over obstacles and dead set on capturing the enemy's weapon.
It was quick, very effective: he shot two of the droids down with a few blasts, and the Jedi cut down the other with a swift stroke, mindful of the explosive charge in their hands. She caught it just as it dropped to the floor, a relieved sigh escaping her lips as she secured it in her hands. Mission accomplished.
She turned to give him a nod of approval and a grin but stopped abruptly when she noticed Skip’s limp and the blood dripping down his forehead, the victory washed away by concern. His jaw was clenched tight and his breathing was erratic from the adrenaline and strain pumping through his body; the grip on his blaster was stronger than it needed to be, a contrast to the way his feet wobbled in the soft soil.
“Skip, you okay?” she asked, quickly getting closer to him to check him over.
The clone didn’t respond, his attention caught on a bright blue bug making its way up a tree on their left.
The togruta frowned, snapping her fingers to try and get him to respond. “Hey, hey, Skipper, look at me.”
Skip dragged his eyes from the creature to the Jedi in a puzzled daze.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Kenhla lifted a single digit.
He squinted and leaned forward, his body tilting a bit to the side. “Three…?”
“Yeah, ok,” she sighed, dropping her hand. “You’re definitely concussed.”
Skip blinked slowly and opened his mouth, closed it, and then repeated the process again before finally organizing the words scrambled in his head. "I am perfectly fine."
"Of course you are." Her look was skeptical, obviously not believing him. "And you're probably also going to tell me that you jumped from the ship without any issue as it landed safely while I was at the front."
“It was only a mild crash,” Skip clarified, his finger wiggling in her direction before clumsily sliding ahead. “And I’m fine, General, we can't just—”
“Jackal was piloting, and you most definitely got shot down.” Kenhla raised an eyebrow and pointed at a rock. She knew there was no way he would have left the gunner's nest willingly in the middle of a battle. “Sit down, we’re waiting here for Pepper.”
“But sir, I'm—“
“You are going to sit your shebs down on that rock and wait for the evac,” she interrupted, handing him a device and giving it a little tap. It was calling the medic before he could stop it, and the togruta gave him a pointed look as she started walking ahead. “That's an order, trooper. I’ll give Raffle our coordinates."
He looked at her as if to argue again that he was fine, but he knew her words were final and flopped down to where she’d instructed him to sit, resigned.
“Fine,” he conceded, tiredness weighing down on every muscle. Through a clouded gaze he extended his hand towards her, wriggling his fingers. “But at least let me check out that bomb.”
“Not a chance, Skip.”
———
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Morast Tāne was strict, but they did their best for her. They made more of an effort than the other Jedi Masters, something of a parent-figure for her. They didn’t deserve to die.
And of course, as always, the all mighty Jedi Council put the blame on her. While Master Plo Koon and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi stood up for her, they were drowned out by Master Mace Windu.
Though Master Yoda is the head of the council, Mace Windu is the main voice. He has a lot of respect from the others, his words influencing others.
He had been a friend of Master Tāne. She could see why he’d blame her, but it wasn’t her fault. It couldn’t have been, right?
Master Tāne said to trust the force, and Kenlha did. She trusted herself, acted on what she thought was right and Master Tāne died.
It was only because there wasn’t proof that she killed him that she wasn’t expelled from the Order. That and they needed as many force-users as possible. Hell, it was bad enough for her to be Knighted.
Now she has to wait for a Battalion for them to dump her at. The 501st are fun and General Skywalker has a Togruta padawan. Someone else who understands the thorough upkeep of montral horns and lekku.
“Kenlha, is it?” came a smooth voice, like molten chocolate. “Master Kenobi and Master Koon mentioned to me what happened. I am sorry for your loss,” he comforted graciously.
“Master Fisto, your words have more value than you know,” she continued, a little honoured to be in his presence. “They were a good master to me.”
“I didn’t get to speak with Master Tāne, but I heard many great things about them. I’m sure they’d be very proud of your recent knighthood.”
She wish that to be true.
“Would you like to meet your new squad?”
She gets her own squad?
The green Nautolan motioned for her to follow him. Eager, Kenlha walked next to him, her mind racing with a million questions.
What did he mean? What new squad? Isn’t she supposed to join a new Battalion?
As the newly knighted Jedi stepped into the shipyard, her eyes were drawn to a colourful ship with a large clover on it. It was damaged and only had three leaves.
Master Fisto smiled, nodding to that ship.
“Clone Force 37,” he introduced. “They are your squad.”
A small group of clones jumped out of the door for dear life, ducking their heads as something exploded inside. As smoke bellowed, they began bickering over what caused it.
It was at that moment that they noticed Master Fisto and Kenlha.
“Was’ up, Kit!” waved a clone who plopped onto a GNK droid, sitting on it joyfully. “Yo, that your new P-to-the-Wan?”
“For the love of Prime, Jackal, never say that again,” his brother sighed, shaking his head, the braid flapping from side to side. “The question stands. Who’s this?”
“This is Master Kenlha Whiro, your new commanding officer,” Kit Fisto smiled, patting Kenlha on the back.
A clone smothered in smoke and soot bounced out of the ship, tackling Kenlha. He grinned up at her, several burn scars on his face.
His brothers surrounded her, excited to meet her and were like giddy children.
One of them with different-coloured eyes slapped something onto her chestplate. Confused, she looked at it, finding a large star sticker.
“I’m Pepper, the medic,” he introduced, grabbing one nearby, “and this is my twin, Foxy.”
“Jackal!”
“I’m Ballast!”
“Boots,” Boots said. After a moment, he grabbed a bit of scrap and lobbed it at the other clone’s head. “He’s Cypher, a bit if an airhead but when he’s paying attention, there’s nothing he can’t interpret!”
They were weird and she loved it.
“They’re all mine?” Kenlha beamed, already in love with her new little brothers. “All of them?”
“As are those two,” the Nautolan added, motioning to a Captain with a young child with him. “Captain Raffle and Luna Evynder, your own Padawan.”
She was overwhelmed and astounded, unable to process the sudden gifts upon her. Master Kit Fisto was kind, but she never thought he’d give her so much.
So much that she probably doesn’t deserve.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Master Whiro, these are not the greatest soldiers. In fact, many believe them to be the worst of the army. Though that may be so, everybody has a place in this universe. I have faith that you can take care of them,” he smiled, his webbed hands on her shoulders. “Know that not only I believe in you, but so will they.”
Teary eyed, Kenlha embraced the Nautolan, her montral horns pressing against his chin. She didn’t care that they weren’t good soldiers, they were hers.
“Thank you, Master Fisto. I won’t fail you.”
“Nor will you disappoint. When it comes to the unusual, you need someone equally unique to lead them. Master Kenobi and Master Koon helped me talk Master Yoda in letting you have these clones. They believe in you as well.”
She wasn’t going to fail. As of now, she’s the leader of Clone Force 37.
“Welcome to the squad, boss-sis,” Foxy announced, patting her shoulder. “First things first, we'll show you how the moonshine maker works.”
Foxy might just be her favourite because of that alone.
AHHH FINALLY AFTER LIKE A MONTH I FINISHED THIS FIC!!
Prank Wars
“Shh! Here he comes, here he comes!” Boots snickers to Thumbs, who is nervously fidgeting with his fingers. “Relax, Thumbs. It’s just a small one, he won’t be that mad.”
“Hmm, okay,” Thumbs replies. He waits as the Jedi gets closer, and Boots slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Thumbs lets out a snort-like sound and averts his eyes, body shaking as he holds in laughs. Other clones sitting around the mess hall began to take notice of the Jedi as well, some doing better than others to hide their amusement.
“Mind if I sit here?” Mace asks, motioning to the seat across from Boots and Thumbs. Kriff, they were going to lose it.
“Sure thing, General Windu,” Boots manages, briefly looking at the Jedi before quickly looking away again.
“How has Clone Force 37 been lately?”
“We’ve been great, sir. Ballast hasn’t blown up nearly as many things as he usually does,” Boots replies. Thumbs just sits quietly, panic flowing through his veins mixed with amusement.
“Are you okay, Thumbs? I sense some struggle within you,” Mace asks. Thumbs has to use all his strength to drag his eyes forwards to look at the Jedi. When he goes to open his mouth to speak, all that comes out are laughs.
“Is there something funny?” Mace questions, looking behind him and expecting to find a scene.
“W-well, General,” Thumbs says, biting his lip to try and calm his laughter, “you have a little something right…here…” he says, motioning in circles around his eyes. Mace’s brows furrow before he looks in the closest mirror like object. His mouth drops slightly and he quickly turns back to face the clones before him. The two clones had put ink on the Jedi’s macrobinoculars earlier, and now there were turquoise circles around his eyes.
“I’m going to assume it was someone from your Lucky Batch that did this?” Mace says dryly as he looks back at the clones, his expression much less amused than the rest of the room.
“We wouldn’t know anything about it,” Boots lies. Mace’s eyes narrow before he leaves the room, heading to a refresher to wash off his face. Little does he know, that’s the paint they use for their armor, which has a tendency to remain stuck on skin for weeks.
~~~
“Careful! Don’t step on it, Ballast!” Jackal says as he places down the bubble wrap.
“Well why did you start on that side? How are we supposed to get out without stepping on it?” Ballast retorts. Jackal purses his lips for a second, realizing his mistake.
“Okay, we’ll just pick it up and then put it back down when we leave,” he responds before going back to covering the rest of the floor. The clones had been in the Jedi’s room almost all day, and the amount of area they’d managed to cover with bubble wrap was amazing. No spot was safe from them, not even the refresher.
“Okay, I think we can start our exit now,” Jackal says as he looks over the room. The two clones worked to finish their “project”, laying down bubble wrap until they reached the door. Once outside, they high five with smug looks on their faces. Then they hear him coming, and dive around the corner that happens to be right next to Mace’s room. They listen intently before they hear his door open, and the sudden shriek from the poor man when “pop”s erupt under his step.
The clones break out in laughter as they listen, Ballast losing his balance and falling from behind their cover. He looks up and makes eye contact with Mace, who is standing in his doorway.
“Run!” Ballast yells at his brother before he pushes himself up and sprints away down the hall, away from the angry Jedi.
~~~
“I feel like this is a bit mean,” Ryder says as he stands with his brother.
“It was a bit mean to make us all clean the entire Jedi temple for Ballast and Jackal’s prank,” Skip responds.
“Yeah, but, I’m still new. I don’t want to be transferred because of this. I don’t want to lose another family,” Ryder argues.
“Hey,” Skip said, placing a gentle hand on Ryder’s shoulder, “you won’t lose us, and you won’t be transferred. I promise, okay?”
Ryder nods, but he’s still hesitant with their idea.
“Just be glad I’m going for one of my more laid back pranks,” Skip adds. “Okay, here he comes. Act natural.”
Ryder picks up his mug and takes a sip of his drink.
“General Windu, good morning!” Skip says as the Jedi walks in. He nods to the clone, a brief acknowledgment as he wanders over to the pot of caf.
“Is this stuff fresh today?” He questions, looking at it suspiciously. “I had some the other day that was at least a standard week old.”
“Fresh as a cucumber,” Skip says.
“Fresh as a cucumber?” Ryder questions, the saying not making any sense.
“It’s the first thing that came to mind,” his brother shrugs, eyes flicking back to Mace as he poured a cup of caf. They both watch as the Jedi takes a big swig, his face pleased for a few seconds before it slowly changes. They can see the moment the hot sauce kicks in, and Mace’s gaze quickly finds theirs.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Skip chuckles as the Jedi’s expression grows angry, “it’s a special blend of ours. We like to add a bit of hot sauce to our caf.”
“Hot sauce?” He breaths out, the heat in his mouth burning furiously.
“Yeah, it adds a nice kick,” Skip responds. “Right, Ryder?”
“Uh, yeah. It really gets things nice and hot,” he adds.
“W-water,” Mace chokes out. He looks around frantically for a sink. When he does, he pours out the coffee and turns it on to fill his mug with water. But nothing comes out.
“Oh, the water isn’t working in here for some reason,” Skips says. Mace’s eyes went even wider before he ran to the fridge.
“I drank the last of the milk, sorry,” Ryder adds. “But I think this might help.” Ryder hands Mace a bottle of vinegar, and the Jedi looks grateful for him at first. When he takes a swig, however, his eyes dart to Ryder’s, and the clone feels his soul leave his body.
“Run!” Skips yells before grabbing his brother and sprinting from the room.
~~~
“Okay, just loop that string through there and…done!” Sparks straightens up and turns to high-five his brother. Cypher has a mischievous and happy grin from setting up the trap with Sparks.
“Ballast may be the mechanic, but I’m the engineer,” Sparks says while admiring their work. “And my stuff doesn’t explode.”
“Well, hopefully it’ll work,” Cypher replies.
“Oh, it’ll work, don’t worry about that. You just have to worry about Mace finding out it was us,” Sparks snickers. He gives the discrete system one last look over before ushering his brother out of the room. They slip around the corner and peek around, waiting for the Jedi to appear.
Sparks can’t help but giggle excitedly as he waits, anticipation for the scene.
“Shh, shh, here he comes!” Sparks whispers before slinking out from their hiding spot and into the hall. As Mace reaches his door, the two clones walk slowly and casually down the hall, careful to not miss anything.
“Hey, it’s about to happen,” Cypher says while nudging Sparks.
As Mace enters his password, the boys hold their breath and watch. The second he steps into the room, he triggers the wire.
Air horns blast as confetti and glitter flies into the air, a bucket of slime tipping over and pouring onto Mace.
Laughter erupts from the brothers as they stand just past Mace’s door. They were keeling over, bodys trembling from their amusement.
“Find something funny?” An angry voice asks from behind them. They immediately stop laughing and look at the Jedi before each other. They make a silent agreement before bolting in different directions. If they split up, Mace wouldn’t be able to catch both.
He didn’t even end up chasing either of them, just angrily sighing before stomping back into his room.
~~~
Rane worked by himself, that much was common knowledge. So it was no surprise that he was going to prank by himself.
It was the middle of the night, and after casually watching the Jedi over the course of the week, he had been able to find out the code to his quarters. And now he was enacting his master plan.
“Alright, little buddy. I know this isn’t exactly a good place to be releasing you, but I need you to trust me, okay?” Rane looks down at the spider in his hands, and it stares back silently.
Rane quickly types in the code to the Jedi’s room and slips inside, shutting the door behind himself. He creeps his way over to the bedroom door before pausing. He looks down at the spider again before slowly opening the door. He peers inside to see Mace snoring into his pillow. He stifles a laugh before slowly bending down.
“I need you to go over and crawl onto him. Try to wake him up, if possible.”
The spider merely stares back silently again before Rane sets him down. He closes the bedroom door before rushing out the main door and into the hall. He silently waits outside of it, hoping that it wouldn’t be too long before he gets a reaction.
Just as he is about to open the door and check on the spider, he hears a scream come from inside. He claps a hand over his mouth as he doubles over in laughter. Never, in his existence, would he have thought Mace’s voice could go so high.
“AHHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OUT!” Mace screams from inside his room. Footsteps approach the other side of the door, and Rane barely has time to jump out of the way as the Jedi runs out into the hall.
“General Windu! Is everything alright?” Rane asks as seriously as he could muster. Mace looks at him with sheer terror in his eyes before it changes.
“You. You did this,” he says, pointing a finger at Rane as an angry expression settles on his face.
“Did what, sir?” Rane asks, still trying to act oblivious.
“The spider. This was your doing. How did you get inside my room?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
“I’ll give you one more chance to come clean. Just admit that this was you, and I’ll let you go.”
Rane stares at him blankly before his eyes dart to the ground. The spider was crawling out and towards Mace again.
“Like I said, sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mace’s eyes narrow before they shoot wide again. He looks down to see the spider crawling up his robes, and he screams as he runs away, shaking his robes violently to try and shake it off. When it does fall to the ground, Rane picks it up and carries him back to the barracks.
“Gotta return you to Foxy,” he says as he makes his way back.
~~~
“Okay, do you think this is enough?” Jack asks as he motions to the tray of cookies.
“Maker, Jack. Okay, so, we are going to put your cookies out as bait,” Foxy says, Jack nodding along as he listens, “General Windu is going to see the cookies, and he’s going to go over and eat one,”
“Right,”
“And then, we’re going to release the ants,”
“Okay this is where I get confused.”
“What are you confused about?” Pepper asks.
“The ants are just going to know where to go?”
“Yes.”
“And just in case, we’ll leave a trail of crumbs to lead them over to where they need to go,” Foxy added.
“Alright, let’s just hope this works,” Jack says while turning to the door of the Jedi’s quarters. He quickly types in the password Rane had given them, and they sneak inside. Jack took his cookies over to the table where they would bait Mace, Foxy laid a trail of crumbs over, and Pepper checked on the ants.
“Alright, everything is set up,” Foxy says as they all meet back up at the door.
“Ants are ready,” Pepper confirms.
“I can smell the cookies from here,” Jack says proudly. “There’s no way General Windu will be able to resist.”
“And now we wait,” Foxy says, leading them out the door and down the hall. It was just their luck that Mace happened to be returning to his room as they walked.
“General Windu,” Pepper nods, earning a brief nod from the Jedi.
Mace pauses for a second to turn and look at the retreating clones, suspicion running wild. He dismisses it though, as he didn’t expect Jack or Pepper to ever attempt to prank him.
As he enters his room, he’s immediately overcome with the smell of fresh cookies.
“Maybe this is an apology,” he thinks out loud. He smiles and walks over to the kitchen where he finds the cookies waiting. He eagerly grabs one and sniffs it, making sure nothing smells out of the ordinary. When he’s satisfied that they’re harmless, he takes a bite. His eyes shoot open and he swallows before hurriedly taking another bite.
“Maker, I know Kenhla said Jack’s baking was good, but this…this is-“ his sentence was cut off by him shoving another cookie into his mouth. As he goes to grab a third, he lets out a shriek as he feels something run across his hand. He looks down and sees ants crawling over to the cookies.
“What the-where are all these ants coming from?” Mace says, suddenly becoming frantic. “No no no! Not the cookies!” He watches as the ants scramble over the treats, taking chunks off them and carrying them away.
“I wanted to eat those,” Mace whines as he falls on his knees, facing down sadly.
“Should I make him another batch? I kind of feel bad,” Jack asks. The clones had snuck back over and we’re standing outside the door, listening to Mace inside.
“No! The whole idea of the prank was that he didn’t get the cookies!” Foxy says.
“You can give him a cookie sticker,” Pepper says, pulling one from his pocket.
“Good idea!” Jack says, taking it over and slipping it under the door. He suddenly hears footsteps approaching, and before he can stand up, the door whooshes open.
“…cookie sticker?” Jack asks hesitantly, watching as Mace’s gaze turns deadly.
“Come on, Jack!” Pepper says, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him away from the seething Mace.
“What about my ants?” Foxy yells.
“Get new ones!” Both Jack and Pepper respond as they flee the scene.
~~~
Kenhla walks into the room to find all her clones sitting in a circle while Raffle walks around them, fly swatter in hand and smacking each on top of the head as he passes.
“Raffle found out about the prank wars the others had on Master Windu,” Brisk explains.
“I thought they were pretty funny,” Luna giggles.
“STOP SMACKING ME!” Skip says as Raffle rains down a bunch of swats.
“I KNOW THIS WAS YOUR IDEA!”
“BUT THE OTHERS HELPED! AT LEAST SWAT THEM MORE AS WELL!”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Raffle says before moving into the next person, which happens to be Jack.
“Hey! I didn’t want to do this!” Jack defends.
“BUT YOU STILL DID!” He says before moving on again.
“Sorry, Ryder. I gotta do this,” Raffle says, almost apologetically.
“S’alright. I understand.”
“Maker, don’t make me feel bad about it,” Raffle says as he quickly swats the newest member.
“How long has he been swatting them?” Kenhla asks.
“About 20 minutes,” Brisk responds.
“And you’ve just been sitting here?”
“I made popcorn!” Luna says while holding the bowl out towards her master. Kenhla smiles and takes a piece, popping it in her mouth and settling down with her padawans to watch the clone Captain reprimand his batch.
the weight down in the deep of you: a lucky batch fic ☘️
(guys!! i finally wrote a thing!!! feat. why ballast's name is ballast and why jackal loves throwing his prosthetic arms so much. hope you enjoy!!!)
A ballast is the secret, vital core of a ship: the weight down in the deep of you that keeps a vessel upright in dark water. - Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two
The sun hung low and hazy in the sky and most of the clones of the 37th battalion were still sleeping in their camp when a terrifyingly loud, terrifyingly explosive sound erupted from nearby the ship.
“What the kriff--” Jackal moaned, jolting awake. He held his head. He hated loud noises at the best of times; and it was even worse to be rudely awoken by one.
“Was that an attack?” another voice sounded. It was Ryder.
“I don’t know, di’kut,” Cypher responded groggily. “Why don’t you go out and look?”
Several of the Lucksters stumbled out of their tents into the cool morning air and looked around. It didn’t look like they were in immediate danger, but there was some smoking coming from Ballast’s workstation.
On closer inspection, the entire workstation--as well as much of the dark, sandy ground--was covered in soot and ash. The greatest amount was collected on Ballast’s face. At least he’d had the sense to wear goggles.
“Oh, hey boys,” Ballast greeted his batchmates cheerily as they came over. “Just a faulty wire. Sorry if I woke you. I’m going to see if there’s any replacement parts on the ship.”
He walked off, whistling a sprightly tune as he went. His brothers shared glances between them, shaking their heads.
“Does anything rattle that guy?” Rane wondered aloud. Jackal glanced toward Ballast’s retreating frame, a small smile gracing his features.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, a faraway look gracing his features as a memory overtook him.
The air was so thick with blaster fire, it was nearly impossible to see. This was not ideal for the clones of the 37th Battalion, who wound their way through a massive and labyrinthine Separatist facility. They were on mission from the Jedi council to retrieve a particular set of data for the Republic. The security around the facility was so great that they needed all hands on deck to help keep them at bay while others infiltrated the facility, which was why Cypher and Ballast found themselves winding their way through the dark hallways along with Jackal and Ryder. Jackal and Ryder were used to the front lines, but Ballast and Cypher were not usually in the thick of things like this. They’d been raised and trained for battle, but their talents typically had them supporting the other soldiers in other ways.
Now, they found themselves hunkered down in a side hallway while droids bore down on them from either side and they wouldn’t have time to retreat back the way they came before the droids caught up to them. Jackal held his head, struggling with the noise of the blasters. Ryder pat himself down wildly, trying to find which of his weapons still had any fuel left.
The familiar clicking of empty blasters sounded from Cypher’s pistols. “This is bad. This is terrible, disastrous, catastrophic!” he shouted over the noise as he hunkered down in the hallway.
“Keep it together, Cypher,” Ballast said, his voice steady despite the hammering in his chest. He’d never been in a position like this before, but he knew they all needed to stay calm if they were going to make it out alive. Still, he was painfully aware that they were outnumbered and outgunned. Glancing around, he noticed a control panel on the opposite wall. They could use that to short the circuits and get the doors shut to cover their retreat. But they didn’t have enough ammo left to cover him while he worked on it. His heart pounded furiously, his stomach was in his throat, but he forced himself to take a breath and clear his mind. There was a solution. There had to be, and he would find it.
A blaster bolt came frighteningly close to their position of cover and Jackal threw his arms up over his head, his metal prosthetic hitting Ballast in the process. Wait….there it was! The solution!
“Jackal!” Ballast hissed to his brother. “Your prosthetic. We can use it to short that panel and get the doors closed!”
“You want to use my arm?”
“I’ll make you a new one!”
Jackal’s eyes went wild for a moment before settling with a fierce determination. “All right,” he said, tugging on his prosthetic with his other arm. It came free in his hand and he passed it over to his brother. “But this had better work!”
“Yeah, I hope you know what you’re doing, Ballast!” Ryder cried, firing off a couple more of his few remaining shots. It wouldn’t be enough to last them if it didn't.
“So do I,” Ballast replied through gritted teeth as he whipped out a couple of tools from his pockets, opened the sockets of the prosthetic, and set furiously to work.
What felt like an eternity but was really only a few moments later, Ballast handed the prosthetic to Ryder. The fist was closed except for the pointer finger, which was extended. “You’ll have to be precise with this shot!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Jackal cried, reaching for the prosthetic. Ballast was worried he’d changed his mind about using it, but he merely folded down the pointer finger and extended the middle finger.
“Really? Right now?” Cypher cried, but before anyone could say anything else, Ryder sucked in a breath and launched the prosthetic at the control panel.
The metal of the prosthetic alighted with sizzling electricity as it interacted with the panel. The boys held their breath for those agonizing seconds; the last thing they saw was the control panel fizzling and Jackal’s prosthetic dropping to the floor before the doors before them shut.
“It was the middle finger that did it,” Jackal voiced before they retreated back the way they had come.
Later that night, Ballast sat with a cluster of parts in his lap, working by the light of their campfire. He was determined to make Jackal’s new prosthetic even better than the last. Before long, he heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see Jackal coming over to join him by the fire. He sat down next to Ballast, who in turn shielded his project from Jackal’s eyes with his arm.
“Hey, let me see!” Jackal protested, craning his neck to try and sneak a look.
“It’s going to be a surprise!” Ballast replied, playfully knocking his brother in the shoulder.
“Alright, keep your secrets.” The two of them grew quiet as they gazed into the gently flickering flames.
“What a day, huh?” Jackal finally voiced. “You know, we managed to draw enough of the droids’ attention that the others were able to get the data we needed.”
“So I heard. Glad your sacrifice turned out to be worth it,” Ballast grinned. Jackal just shook his head, growing serious.
“How did you do it?”
“Oh, well, I had to recalibrate some of the motor functions so that when it hit the panel--”
“No,” Jackal interrupted Ballast before he was subjected to a long-winded explanation of mechanics. “How did you stay so calm? How weren’t you scared out of your mind like the rest of us?”
Ballast looked back at the fire. “I was,” he said after a long moment.
“Wait, really?” Jackal looked at him incredulously. “Didn’t seem like it.”
“When I’m working, there’s always a chance that something is going to break, misfire, explode….like a ship on rough water,” Ballast began to explain, his voice soft. “You can’t always predict the way the weather will turn, can’t control the wind or the waves, but you can control the way you carry yourself through it.” He allowed himself a small smile as he looked over at his brother. “Giving in to that fear wasn’t going to help any of us. I just wanted to be strong for us.”
Jackal smiled broadly back at Ballast, placing his remaining hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Well, thank you. For always being the weight to carry us through. And hey,” he added, “maybe you should make a few more of those prosthetic arms. I kind of like that tactic.”
“I think I can do that,” Ballast grinned. Jackal chuckled.
“Just try not to let them explode, yeah? At least, not on purpose.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
@monako-jinn-stories @just-another-dreamerr @lynnpaper @lavenderstaars @foxlock @maygalodon @letsunity @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @cosmicghostie @lusiawonder @the-lucky-batch @burnthashbrown27 @stereotypicalpicnicmat @mango-peachjuice @namesmox and other lucksters i missed!
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Some soft Kenhla making sure the battalion’s medic takes care of himself. (I CAN WRITE SOFT THINGS,,, SOMETIMES)
Peps, take a break.
His head was pounding like crazy, and Pepper closed his eyes tightly as a wave of tiredness washed over his chest.
Maker, had the lights always been this painfully bright?
"Pepper."
The clone looked up from his hands and spotted a couple of red lekku framing Kenhla’s concerned face. She snapped her fingers over his eyes, trying to snap him back into reality, and with a quick cough, he straightened his back.
“Hey, General,” he said, his voice cheerful as always; yet the words were weirdly heavy in his tongue. His throat felt like sandpaper, the air rasping against his chest.
She frowned, unimpressed, and clicked her tongue. "Peps, you're definitely sick.”
"No, I'm not.” He coughed again, hard, and his vision blurred for a moment, his feet wobbling beneath him. Kenhla reached out to catch him, but the medic lifted his hand to stop her and gave her a slightly pained smile. “I'm fine."
The togruta raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “I had to call you four times before you responded. You’re not “fine”. Did you stay overnight taking stock of the medical supplies again?”
Pepper shrugged innocently, avoiding her gaze. He fiddled with his hands. “Maybe?”
“Oh, vod, we talked about this.” The Jedi sighed, a hand settling gently on his shoulders and giving him a small squeeze. “I know you worry we won't have enough to treat the wounded, but it's more important that our head medic takes care of himself first.”
He grimaced at her words, knowing she did have a point. But he just wanted to make sure everything was okay, with Jackal and Ballast always being on fire, Cypher and the others breaking their hands punching droids, the two little padawans who tended to stumble and scrape their knees—
“Come on,” she said, gesturing with her head towards the medbay. “Let’s get you something for that fever.”
“I’m alright, General, I promise."
“Either you come with me, or I’m telling Foxy you refuse to take care of yourself.”
He scrunched his nose. “…that’s not fair.”
“I don’t care,” she grinned, knowing she had him, and made an exaggerated gesture towards the end of the corridor. "Now move your shebs to a bed."
Pepper gave a defeated sigh and followed the Jedi to the medbay, making sure to put one step in front of the other. Kenhla guided him to the nearest free bunk and, with a gentle push, he found himself lying on the table, the cold pillow under his head a welcome sensation to contrast his feverish skin.
“I’m going to tell Brisk to make you some tomato soup,” she told him once he’d settled, and then pointed at him with both eyebrows raised. “Don’t you dare move from here, Peps. Trust me, I’ll know.”
The medic couldn’t help but chuckle at her tone, nodding slightly so as to show her he understood without scrambling the rest of his brain. Before turning around, she placed something on his chest and gave him a final cheeky smile.
“Get some rest, trooper. That’s an order.”
He couldn’t help but return the smile, the pressure in his temple now incredibly annoying as he lifted his hand to salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
As the general left the medbay to let him rest, Pepper looked down and found a “get well soon” sticker beaming brightly at him.
Ryder silently wandered down the market, looking for a place that sold stickers. It was a strange thing to look for, and he had no idea where to find them. He ran a finger down his braided hair nervously, fidgeting with the plaits Boots had delicately weaved. The dye was still fresh, and the scent of it wafted into his face with every breeze. His buzzed sides did nothing to shield his ears from the chilled air, and he felt them turning pink.
“Excuse me,” he said, walking up to a random vendor.
“Ah, hello there, clone. What can I get ya? Meiloorun?” The vendor asked, leaning forward on his durasteel stand.
“Oh, uh, no, sir. I was wondering if you could help me find something else?”
“Whatcha lookin’ for?”
“Stickers…” he said, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks.
“Stickers? You got a kid? Didn’t think clones had children,” the vendor said as he looked at the clone quizzically.
“Ah, no. It’s…it’s for a friend.”
“A friend? Didn’t think you had those either.”
Ryder looked down, shuffling his feet slightly.
“It uh, it would mean a lot if you could help me,” he said, ignoring the vendors comment, still looking at his toes.
“Sure thing. Just keep heading down that way until you pass 9 stands on the right side. Then it’ll be right there.”
“Thank you,” Ryder said before turning and heading down to the direction he was pointed in. When he reached the booth, his eyes went wide at the options.
“Hello, friend! Looking for some stickers today?” An enthusiastic dathomirian vendor asked.
“Yeah, they’re for my friend,” Ryder explained, dragging his eyes away to look at her. She seemed friendly enough. A pang of hurt ran through him as he remembered his old dathomirian General.
“What kind are you looking for? I have lots of options. There’s animals, bugs, GAR themed, Jedi themed, holographic…” She continued to list more, all of it going in one ear and out the other for Ryder.
“Uhh, I’m not sure. I’ll just look around, if that’s alright.”
“Sure thing! Just let me know if you need help,” she nodded, moving to help another customer.
Ryder took his time studying all the different stickers. He really wanted something special, as a thanks for Pepper’s enthusiastic first sticker he had given him. It was a large “FAMILY” sticker, and it had made Ryder so happy, but all he had managed at the time was a weak smile and teary eyed nod. He wanted to make up for his lack of a response, so he decided to get Pepper some more stickers.
After a few minutes, he curiously picked out a pack that said, “scratch and sniff.”
“What are these?” Ryder asked, turning and holding them out for the vendor to see.
“Oh! Those are smelly stickers! When you scratch them, they smell!”
“Smell…good?”
“Yeah! You can also get bad smelling ones for pranks.”
“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll get all the different types of these.”
“ALL of them?” She said, her eyes going wide.
“Yeah…that’s not too much, is it?”
“Uh…no, not if you want to have a full year's supply.”
“That’s perfect! Thank you!” He said, smiling for the first time since dinner last night. The vendor quickly grabbed a bag and filled it up with all her different scratch and sniff stickers, then turned back to him.
“That’ll be 50 credits.” Ryder handed her the money and took the bag, waving as he headed back to the barracks.
~~~
“Ryder! Where have you been? You missed breakfast,” Ballast said as he walked in. “Ooooh, what’s in the bag?”
“Uh, it’s actually a surprise for Pepper,” Ryder said, causing Ballast to halt and look at him curiously.
“A surprise? Is it ready? Can I know what it is?”
“Uh, it’s not quite ready. I have to put it in a different bag first.”
“Oh, well, I know Thumbs has gift bags somewhere.”
“Okay, thanks,” Ryder said before going to find Thumbs.
“Hey, Thumbs,” he said, wandering into the room that had his bunk, “Ballast said you had some gift bags, do you think I could use one?”
“Gift bags? Sure! There’s one right over here.” He got up from his bunk and wandered over to the closet, shoving some things around, a box falling on his head before he pulled back and held a bag out triumphantly. They both watched as everything began to slowly lean forward. Thumbs quickly slammed the closet shut, stopping everything from tumbling out onto the floor.
“Thanks,” Ryder said, earning a double thumbs up from his brother. He let a small smile spread over his lips before he turned and went to his own bunk room. He sat on his bed and quickly took the packs of stickers out, putting a big label on the bag that read, “PEPPER.”
“Hey, Ryder. Ballast said you had a surprise for me?” Pepper said, walking in right as Ryder finished.
“Oh! Yeah, I just finished putting it in here,” he said, motioning to the bag. “I-I wanted to thank you for being so friendly and welcoming to me. My old battalion, I loved them, and I miss them so much, but you guys are different here. I mean, you’re even gave me my name.”
Pepper grinned widely at his brother before pulling him into a tight hug.
“Anything for fellow Lucksters!”
Ryder returned his grin, though not nearly as wide. He held out the bag for Pepper to take, watching anxiously as he stuck his hand in. He pulled it out slowly, looking down at the stickers in his hand.
“Scratch and sniff?” He questioned, looking up at Ryder.
“The vendor said that when you scratch them, they smell.” Pepper’s eyes slowly got wide as he processed Ryder’s words. His mouth dropped before he eagerly began scratching at one. He brought it up to his nose and let out a gag before smiling crazily.
“THIS IS AMAZING! IT SMELLS JUST LIKE DUNG!” He pointed at the dung sticker that he had scratched, his eyes sparkling as if he was staring at the most amazing thing in the galaxy. “THANK YOU SO MUCH RYDER!” He engulfed his brother in another rib crushing hug before pulling back and smiling evilly.
“I HAVE TO GO STICK DUNG STICKERS ON RAFFLE’S HELMET!” He said, his whole body practically vibrating in excitement before running out of the room, stickers flying out of the bag as he went. Ryder finally let a toothy grin break through, proud to have gotten such a good gift for Pepper.
“Did you get him stickers?” Ballast asked while walking in and taking note of the fallen stickers.
“Yeah, they’re a special kind. If you scratch them, they smell.”
“Maker, I bet he loved those,” Ballast laughed.
“Yeah, he does,” Ryder agreed, smiling to himself again.
@lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygaladon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @letsunity @mango-peachjuice @lusiawonder @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @just-another-dreamerr @longearedowlfromouterspace @generaltano @namesmox I’m sorry if I forgot some Lucky Batch members!
