The 501st Clone Battalion was known for a great many things.
Bravery, for one. Stupidity, for another.
But when the 501st’s name was mentioned, it was always with an undercurrent of grudging respect. Because the 501st got stuff done. The 501st won. They were infamous for their unique tactics, disastrous command structure, their Jedi General. But the 501st was the elite.
The legion was made from extremes, where traits emerged in full force and nothing was done by half.
According to the starfighter group, they were the absolute best example.
The starfighter group did all of the things the legion did, sure. They broke kill count records. They necessitated updates to the reg manual - apparently GAR command had never considered that they would fly through nebulas, sneak past Separatist shields, create inordinately large explosions, reprogram recovered scraps of vulture droids, disrupt hyperspace lanes, or generally create half as much chaos as they did.
The starfighter group were vode, just like the legion was. They carved casualties on their ships, painted new designs onto their armor, pissed off the medics. They got far too drunk on shore leave and were ferally touch-starved and sung Vode An all together on drops.
But the starfighter group was the starfighter group, and they were determined that the rest of the legion knew it perfectly well.
The starfighter group was a full-fledged cult, with an initiation ceremony.
There were things that only the starfighter group did. Only they could turn the wings of their ships into buffet tables or challenge each other to sleep in cockpits. Only they got along well with the mechanics, resulting in a treaty to turn off the Resolute’s artificial gravity at random intervals every rotation. Only the starfighter group could land their ships on the ceiling and get down without breaking any bones.
And only they were allowed to fly.
That part was in the reg manual, sure. Any space-capable GAR vessel requires an H6-certified pilot to operate it.
But the starfighter group was allowed to fly.
The starfighter group got to move ships into space and fly past the stars. They got to drop off and pick up and make messes, swooping proudly overhead to blow enemy forces halfway to the next galaxy. Their piece of the war was at warp speed, requiring a kind of adrenaline-fueled, accidental perfection.
Only the starfighter group got that feeling in their stomachs, knotted and open and awed, a sense of wild freedom that came with the spaces between the stars.
Only the starfighter group got to fly.
I have so many ideas about the starfighter group. And if I'm honest, I was so tempted to write about the medics. But I feel like pilots are incredibly underappreciated. They should get some love too.
I can't help imagining that they have their own set of traditions and connections, like a little subculture the rest of the vode or even the legion don't quite understand.
Also, I'm running out of ways to say, "hey! it's clonetober! find info, submissions, and prompts on the lovely host blog @clonetober!" So please just go check them out.
