#clone force 37

“Hey! It’s Sparks, right?”

The clone in question remained arrested in place and for a second Thumbs wondered whether or not he had even heard him. 

He was about to ask again when Sparks tilted his head slightly, silently observing Thumbs from his position on the floor. After performing what appeared to be a brief visual analysis, he turned back towards the open ramp, nodding his head in response.

Thumbs smiled. Progress. 

“So you decided to hang back?” Thumbs asked, keeping his tone light in an attempt to ease his obviously-skeptical brother. Undeterred by the lack of response, he continued. 

“Yeah, I get it. I know we all seem pretty crazy right now, but I promise that once you get to know us…” He paused, reconsidering the truth of his statement. “Well, you’ll probably think we’re even crazier.”

Sparks huffed in what seemed like amusement, the sound bringing immediate warmth to the frigid air around them. Thumbs grinned, taking the welcome gesture as an invitation to sit beside him. 

The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the songs of nearby insects hidden from sight, before Sparks finally spoke. 

“Why are you here?” 

For a moment, Thumbs thought he was referring to his choice to sit next to him, before realizing he meant the reason he wasn’t out on the mission with the others. 

“Ah, I don’t know,” Thumbs shrugged. “Didn’t seem like they needed me on this one.”

Sparks’ gaze flicked towards him briefly before focusing back on the vast space in front of them. 

“You’re the strategist?” 

“Yeah,” Thumbs sighed. “In theory, at least.”

“Seems weird to place a strategist with this batch.”

Thumbs knew he was right – Sparks was only confirming what he himself had thought many times before – but the comment still twinged at something buried deep within him that had never been vocalized. 

“I… chose to be here. And I don’t regret it. Not for a single second.”

He immediately regretted his brusqueness as Sparks’ posture once again constricted, his mouth drawing into a thin line. So much for keeping the tone light. 

The uncomfortable silence that followed was thankfully interrupted when a small animal appeared at the base of the Clover’s ramp. Thumbs watched in awe as Sparks beckoned it with a few tender snaps, the furry creature immediately obeying and snuggling up to his side. With an unexpected softness, Sparks ran two fingers down the creature’s spine, chuckling when it chirped in response. However, just as suddenly as the animal had appeared, it slipped away again, scurrying back into the night.

“Huh,” Thumbs said, having observed the strange encounter in silence. “Never seen one of those before.”

Sparks shrugged. “They’re pretty common. Saw a few the last time I was here.”

“Oh.” Thumbs cataloged the new piece of information. “You’ve traveled a lot then?”

Sparks nodded stiffly.

“You should tell that to Cypher. He loves talking about that kinda stuff.” 

“Yeah, maybe.”

Thumbs fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unwilling to let the conversation slip away again, but unsure how exactly to proceed. So, he asked the first question that came to mind.

“What’s your favorite planet?” 

“Favorite planet?” Sparks repeated incredulously.

Thumbs cringed, suddenly feeling as small as the padawans under Sparks' intense stare. For him, navigating conversations could sometimes be like navigating the battlefield – but just like in war, he had no choice but to march on. 

“I think mine’s Lothal. I’ve only been there once, but it was beautiful. No water in sight – just solid earth and sun.”

Anyone who grew up on Kamino knew that the promise of stable land beneath one's feet was a privilege. 

“I’m not sure I have one.” Sparks responded after a few seconds, casting his gaze back towards the floor. “But maybe someday… Someplace quiet. With lots of trees.”

His answer came as a surprise. The two of them were soldiers, forever burdened by the weight of armor, and until now, Thumbs believed that Sparks had allowed its harsh plastoid edges and carefully engineered curves to seep into the man beneath. It was a reality for many of those who were consumed by the brutality of war. 

But no, he wanted quiet. He wanted to be surrounded by trees; a dream that his very name, sparks, threatened to burn. 

He wondered where he got the name Sparks at all…

Thumbs was brought out his thoughts when something fell from his back pocket, clanging loudly onto the durasteel floor. 

He scrambled to pick the items up before sheepishly glancing back at Sparks, who had one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“They’re… knitting needles,” he supplied.

“You knit?”

Thumbs nodded, once again surprised by Sparks’ genuine curiosity. Back with his old trainer, his not-so-secret hobby had become the brunt of many unpleasant jokes. He tried not to let it bother him but he eventually found himself knitting less and less, tired of the negative attention. He still kept his needles with him though, a good luck charm of sorts, waiting for the day they would be useful again. 

“Well, I used to at least. Not much any more.”

“Why not?”

Thumbs hesitated, not wanting to get into the series of events that forced him to abandon the one activity that brought him joy during the war. He opted for a half-truth instead.

“Well, I... I don’t have any yarn.”

Sparks hummed in response; if he had any doubts about the truth of his batchmate’s statement, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he leaned over, picking up a screw that had come loose from one of the cabinets in the hull. 

Thumbs watched as his brother repeatedly turned the small piece of metal between his fingers, and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. So far, all he knew about Sparks was that he traveled a lot, had an affinity for trees, was scarily good at befriending wild animals, and was obviously reluctant to open up to any of his brothers – something that he was determined to change. 

“So, what was your old squad like?”

Thumbs, eyes clouded by the fog of curiosity, didn’t catch the way Sparks froze, his spine straightening and fists clenching at his sides. 

“I mean, I bet no one there kni-”

“What, now you want to talk about my old squad?” Sparks interrupted, his voice quiet, but laced with bitterness. “How about we talk about yours? Why are you really here, strategist?”

Thumbs recoiled, startled not so much by what Sparks had said, but by how he said it. Something profoundly mournful had flashed across his features before disappearing behind a wall of hostility, like lightning lost in the echoes of thunder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s a bad habit, my brothers are used to it.”

Sparks scuffed his shoe against the floor of the hull. 

“I’m not your brother.” 

The statement was meant to sting, but Thumbs knew that something else was simmering beneath his apparent anger. He stood, knowing that despite his own instincts, right now what Sparks really needed was space. 

“You should try to get some sleep before the others get back,” he said quietly, before heading back in the direction of the bunks. 

Thumbs didn’t expect a reply, but spared one last look at his brother before exiting the hull.  He watched for a moment as Sparks unconsciously rubbed his hands together, failing to suppress a shiver that coursed through his body. 

Must not like the cold, Thumbs thought, before turning and closing the door behind him.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

The next morning, Thumbs woke slowly. Getting up was a struggle, his limbs sore from sitting on the durasteel floor the previous night. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around and found that the rest of the batch had returned from their mission, many of them now asleep in their own bunks. 

He smiled when Pepper and Foxy passed, returning their friendly waves with his signature thumbs up. Thumbs was grateful to be surrounded by such a supportive batch; he just wished he could’ve gotten through to its newest member. 

He knew it was hard, joining a new squad, especially Clone Force 37. They were chaotic at the best of times, disastrous at the worst. But despite their outward ferver, everyone onboard the Clover lived with the weight of their memories – images of relentless training sessions, unforgiving battles, and now-absent friends appearing whenever they dared to close their eyes – and Thumbs knew that for Sparks it was no different. 

But he had looked so lost, staring out at the sky the night before, trapped on the teetering threshold of past and present. 

And there Thumbs was, asking him about his favorite planet… Stars, he was useless. 

The strategist had flopped back onto his bunk, one arm thrown over his face, when a pair of footsteps, quiet but firm, made their way towards him. He didn’t move, assuming it was just another squadmate heading towards the hull, when suddenly the footfalls stopped.

He lifted his arm, finding none other than Sparks standing over him.

“Sparks, I-”

Thumbs’ apology was cut off as a lump of something, something strangely soft, was thrown into his lap. 

He looked down and found himself staring at a bundle of bright yellow yarn.  

The smile that appeared on Thumbs’ face could’ve outshined any sun; its only competition was the one that materialized on Sparks’ own features as he turned to walk back towards the ship’s hull. 

Thumbs didn’t stop smiling even as he pulled out his needles, casting onto them for the first time in years. 

It was like not a day had passed since the last time he had knit, his hands moving like magic as they maneuvered the yarn, each stitch falling into their respective place. After a couple hours, the soft material began to take form and soon all that was left to do was weave in the stray strands.

Thumbs looked down at his creation feeling happier than he had in a very long time. He hoped that the pair of bright yellow gloves would help keep his newest vod warm, even when the world felt a bit cold.

Ryder wakes up with a jerk, his body trembling and covered in sweat as he tries to breathe normally. His heart is racing, and he takes deep, shuddering breaths as his mind processes the nightmare.

Ryder climbs down from his bed as quietly as he can, but he doesn’t realize that someone else is awake as well. As Ryder silently leaves the room, Jackal crawls out of bed to follow. Ryder moves quickly, much to Jackal's surprise. It’s like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and Jackal knows that’s probably true.

He’d been trying to fall asleep himself when he’d heard Ryder above him. Mumbled words about needing to escape, calling for General Lyle, CT-1882, and CT-2019. He knew that those were people from Ryder’s original battalion, the ones that had died on Ryder’s last mission with them.

Jackal had almost gotten up to make sure Ryder was okay during the nightmare, but before he could, the clone had climbed down from his bunk and left the room, causing Jackal to be even more worried.

Jackal isn’t sure how to approach him, not wanting to scare him or make him feel cornered. He wants Ryder to feel safe, to know that he has someone there for him.

As he enters the hangar after Ryder, Jackal watches as he went right up to the speeder they’d given him. Ryder pauses, taking a deep breath as he seems to debate getting on.

“Can’t sleep?” Jackal asks, startling Ryder slightly. Ryder looks at him for a second before turning and climbing onto his speeder.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replies.

“Where are you going?”

“I…don’t know…” There’s a moment of silence, Jackal questioning if he might be pushing too much, but decides to ask another question.

“Mind if I join you?” Ryder looks at him again, studying his expression. Jackal was battleworn, like most of them in the Lucky Batch. He’d seen enough pain to last more than a desired amount of lifetimes. He’s lost his own brothers, and was no longer a part of his own original battalion.

“Sure,” Ryder finally answers, and Jackal climbs on behind him.

“So, you just going to fly around until we find somewhere or run out of fuel?”

“Yeah, that’s what I usually do,” Ryder says before starting the speeder. “Uh, just a heads up, sometimes I can be a little…reckless.”

“Reckless flying? Ha, sounds like me,” Jackal jokes, and Ryder gives a huff of amusement.

“Just try not to fall off,” Ryder says before he starts to fly out. At first, Jackal wasn’t sure whether Ryder was being serious, as he went slow and was gentle with his movements. But once they were out of the hangar and into traffic, Ryder proved he wasn’t joking.

Jackal instantly grabs onto Ryder, holding back a startled yelp as Ryder speeds through the flying lanes. Lights and colors flash by as they maneuver around tight corners and busy lanes. Jackal is sure Ryder’s speed is much faster than what is regulated, but that doesn’t matter to him. He’s too focused on not slipping off as Ryder points the speeder nearly straight up and flies up the side of a building.

“Kriff, Ryder! If you didn’t want me with you, you could have just said no! You don’t have to try and get me to fall off!”

“Sorry,” Ryder chuckles, leveling the speeder out as they reach the top, “but I did give you a warning.” Jackal just huffs in response, letting go of Ryder as they slowly fly over the top of the building. He takes a moment to look out over the city, admiring the lights of Coruscant’s night.

Ryder also gazes around, letting his mind be filled by the sounds around and below him, instead of the sounds of his nightmares. He lets out another deep breath, closing his eyes to try and find peace in the city.

“Hey, uh…you okay?” Jackal asks, noticing Ryder’s mood shift. Ryder peers around at Jackal before flying over to another building. He knows Jackal is trying to help, and he’s grateful for that. He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to say it out loud.

“I think…I think I need a little bit more time before I can talk about it,” Ryder responds after another minute. Jackal nods, resting a hand on Ryder’s shoulder.

“Well, Ryder,” Jackal says, smirking as he uses the clone's newly acquired name, “we’re here for you. I’m here for you. And I’m your new bunkmate, so I will listen to anything you need to say, and I will help you with everything I can.”

“Thanks, Jackal,” Ryder says, turning slightly to give him a small smile.

“Now, is there a favorite place you like to fly to? Maybe a spot that really helps you?”

“Well, seeing General Jinn always helps.”

“Ah, you mean Heather? Yeah, my partner Urania is good friends with her. She tells me about some of their fun adventures and shenanigans. I have to say, I’m a bit surprised someone like you is with someone like Heather.”

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks, slightly offended by the comment.

“Oh, I just mean, you’re kind of quiet, not really…adventurous? She just seems a bit more ‘hey let’s do this crazy, probably not good, idea’ and you seem more ‘hey, maybe we should consider the consequences first,’ if that makes sense.”

“I mean…I was more like her before the…” Ryder trails off, a shudder taking over as his nightmares burst to the front of his mind again. He grips the handles on the speeder tighter, and speeds up as if he’s trying to outrun the memories.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jackal says, gripping Ryder’s shoulder. “We all have a past. I wasn’t always a pilot, you know. I used to be a medic for the Wolfpack. But, things happened, and I ended up here as a pilot. And yeah, I miss the boys, more than anything. But I also have a new family here. I’ll never forget my past, but I’ll use it to grow. I’ll remember it and the people who taught me the important things. I’ll cherish the memories I have, and know the bad happened for a reason.” Ryder listens closely, absorbing Jackal’s words carefully. He knows he’s right, but he can’t help but feel like his past is too painful.

“Ryder,” Jackal says, more serious now, “you’ll never be the man you once were. I don’t know if you’ve accepted that, but if you haven’t, you need to. You’ve gone through too much, changed too much. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep changing. Let your past help you become the man you want. I, for one, think you’re going to become an incredible guy. Well, not that you aren’t already, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” Ryder chuckles. “Thanks, Jackal. That really helps, and means a lot.”

“Hey, it’s what brothers are here for. You’re my vod, and you can’t get rid of me,” Jackal says, giving Ryder a wide grin.

“Are you saying I should try and get you to fall off?” Ryder jokingly asks, but Jackal just grins even wider.

“Oh, you’ll know what I mean soon enough,” Jackal responds. “Just be careful if you ever bring Heather around, I can’t promise to be on my best behavior.”

“I’ll definitely remember that.” They laugh before falling silent again, each one falling into their own thoughts as Coruscant passes by. They’re in a quieter part of the city now, the place Ryder always imagines moving to with Heather after the war. If she wants to stay here, that is. If not, he’d follow her anywhere she went.

Maybe they’d stick with Jackal and Urania as well, perhaps flying off planet to live in a shared home, raise their families together, if they had them. The thought made Ryder smile, imagining building such a close bond with a brother that they choose to spend their lives together. Already, Ryder was feeling safe around Jackal. He felt like he could talk to him, and so he did.

“I had a nightmare. It’s a recurring one. About the venator,” Ryder began to explain.

“I assumed so, I heard you mumbling names and warnings.”

“Yeah. It’s just all…I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like it happened yesterday.”

“I know what it feels like, for something to stick with you for so long, to feel so new, even after it’s been months.”

“I’m scared,” Ryder admits, making sure Jackal can’t see his face.

“Scared? Of the nightmares, or something else?”

“I just-I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to lose you guys like that.”

“Ryder,” Jackal says in a firm tone, “as the pilot of the Clover, I promise you will not have a bad venator experience again. And as your self-proclaimed new best and favorite vod, I promise you won’t lose me, or any other Lucky Batch member.”

“As much as I appreciate the promise and dedication, I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Wow, way to be a pessimist,” Jackal says, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

“I'm just saying, it’s a war, and we don’t know how long it’ll go on for. We don’t know what will happen, who we’ll lose.”

“Well, you won’t lose me. I swear to the Maker on that,” Jackal says. “And if I’m wrong, if that swear is broken, you can have Grizzer after I steal him from Fox.”

“You’re going to steal Grizzer?” Ryder questions, not believing that Jackal will actually do it.

“Yup. That’s one of my bucket list items. Steal Grizzer from Fox and never give him back.” Ryder huffs, shaking his head at Jackal’s bizarre idea.

“Well, good luck with that, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re helping me,” Jackal says.

“No way, I’m not messing with Fox, or any of the Coruscant guard.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Nope.”

“I’ll convince you.”

“No you won’t.”

“You’ll be helping me and you won’t even know it.”

“Lies.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

“No you won’t.”

“Want to bet on it?”

“Actually, yeah I do. If you steal Grizzer with my unknowing help, I’ll let you fly my speeder for a standard month.”

“Deal, and if I don’t get your unknowing help, I’ll let you fly the Clover for a standard month.”

“Deal,” Ryder says, turning to shake hands with Jackal. Jackal has a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Ryder can tell he already has a plan forming in his head.

“It won’t work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. And even if it does, I’ll just say you cheated.”

“Cheated? How would I cheat on manipulating you to unknowingly help me steal a massif?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find a way to prove you did.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever you say, Ryder.” They both chuckle, peering out into the city. The sky is becoming brighter, and they haven’t realized how long they’ve been out.

“Maybe we should get back, I think it’s daytime,” Jackal says.

“Yeah, there’s just a slight problem,” Ryder says, looking down at the gauges on the speeder.

“Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me,” Jackal says.

“We’re almost out of fuel.”

“How far do you think we can make it before it stops?”

“I don’t know, let’s find out,” Ryder says. He steps on the gas again, and after a few seconds the speeder stalls before it stops.

“So, we got a few extra feet.”

“I guess we’re walking then,” Ryder says, jumping off before Jackal groans and climbs off as well.

“I’m not helping you push that,” Jackal states, walking ahead of Ryder.

“Hey! You were the one who asked to come along with me, so you get to help.”

“But you’re doing perfect! Look at you! All strong and-ow! Hey!”

“Well, if you’re not going to help, and if you’re going to walk in front of me, I might ‘accidentally’ hit you.”

“Fine, I’ll help,” Jackal grumbles, going to the other side and helping Ryder push the speeder back.

Once they reach the hangar, it’s almost midday and the rest of the Lucky Batch is waiting for them.

“Where have you guys been?” Ballast asks as they walk in.

“Out in the city. Ryder decided to use up all the fuel before heading back.”

“You asked if I was going to fly around until we ran out, and I said yeah that’s what I normally do,” Ryder says.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t being serious,” Jackal counters.

“Well I was.”

“Raffle has been looking for you,” Boots interrupts as he walks over.

“Better be prepared for the fly swatter, he’s not in a good mood,” Cypher adds.

“I’m telling him it was your idea,” Jackal whispers to Ryder as they head in to find Raffle.

“Yeah, well I’m telling him you’re planning on stealing Grizzer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jackal says, narrowing his eyes at Ryder. They share a tense moment, staring at each other before they both break into a run.

“RAFFLE! IT WAS RYDER’S IDEA!” Jackal yells through the halls.

“JACKAL’S GOING TO TRY AND STEAL GRIZZER FROM FOX!”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM, HE’S LYING!”

“NO I’M NOT, I HAVE IT ON RECORDING!”

From down the hall in his room, Raffle sighs and puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t have the energy for this today. When they both burst into his room, he just mumbles to them about going to find something else to do, that he’d deal with them later. The two then look at each other before running off again, and Raffle can’t help but hope they’re not going to get up to any mischief.

Ahhh I wrote this when I should have been writing two other things, but I had this idea and I wanted to make it! This includes some snip-it’s of headcanons about me and @maygalodon’s characters that we have formed together!

Ryder and Heather belong to me, Jackal and Urania belong to @maygalodon, Ballast belongs to @radbatch, Boots belongs to @lusiawonder, Cypher belongs to @stereotypicalpicnicmat, and Raffle belongs to @lynnpaper