#tbb nemec

(Caption by @tahny-andthe-diamonds)

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And by the time you turn around the corner to accept your fate where more work awaits behind the door, you stumble into an abrupt stop. On either side of the door where it's usually manned by a couple of Coruscant Guard troopers you've grown fond of, you find a couple with green visor and dark green markings, features that are foreign to you, almost as if for camouflage purposes. Their armors are way more scratched and dented than the Corries that you've seen.

They immediately straighten at your arrival, quite unnaturally. The sight puts you in immediate despair that you're doing this again, but you quickly set that aside. The air about them, you can tell already, is quite different.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” you start with a welcome, encouraging smile. “Any chance you know where Blaze and Steel are—the usual Guardsmen assigned here?”

They share a glance, their stoic helmets preventing you from reading their expressions, but you might be able to guess already. One of them with a scorched helmet answers, “They're reassigned for a time being, Senator. In exchange, both of us are stationed here for 25 rotations.”

At the numbers, your brows immediately knit into a frown. “Now that's quite a long time, isn't it? Aren't you two supposed to be…” You eye their armor plates that definitely have seen some more brutal actions. “In the frontlines?”

The other one with a unique lighter green marking in his helmet nods sharply. “CT-5775, Senator.” He nods at his partner's direction. “And this is CT-3258. We're both privates of the 41st Elite Corps under Jedi General Luminara Unduli.”

You hum. “Elite frontline troopers, yes? Then what are you doing here?”

He hesitates for a moment before once again answering your inquiry with the same firmness, “Punishment, Senator. Our entire platoon… made a mistake. We were sent home and reassigned to assist the Coruscant Guard. Starting today.”

It must be quite an embarrassment for admitting that out loud. You hold back your grimace, but internally you've quickly applauded their directness and honesty. Both you can find in most clones, but not all would admit that they are technically on probation.

“Haven't you been informed of the reassignment, Senator?” the other trooper, one with the scorched helmet, asks.

You huff quietly. “Didnt know about any trooper reassignment, to be honest. Must've missed it completely or the system’s fault. My aide would've told me.” You would need to ask them later. “What are your names?”

“I'm Fireball,” the previous trooper answers. He then gestures to his counterpart, the one who's been granting you detailed answers. “And this is Nemec.”

You muse, “Nemec and Fireball.” You've heard of how the clone troopers established their own culture. A little something for themselves that they weren't allowed per strict Kaminoan protocol. It reminds you just how entirely different they are from you—the only similarity shared between you and Nemec along with Fireball is that you are only human fighting for the same cause.

Human. As far as you know, you are merely one of the small group of senators that treat clone troopers as people given with choices, free will, and the mind. What pains you is that they are used to being treated as cannon fodders—expendable, replaceable. Property.

“Would you like some caf?” you offer the drink carrier to both troopers right away. You always find the crevice in time to give your assigned guards treats as a way to engage with them. It's a small yet fine start that you hope would inspire your peers as well. “The cafeteria downstairs got quite an offer I couldn't miss but I didn't know who to share these with.”

They look hesitant—understandably. Especially casting a quick glance on the brand emblazoned into the cups, they'd know it's one of the fancy ones they absolutely can't afford even with their monthly stipend. “We appreciate the offer, Senator,” Nemec refuses politely, “But with all due respect, we're on duty.”

You almost roll your eyes. “This is caf, Nemec, not Corellian whiskey,” you insist, bringing your tone lighter to indicate to them that you won't rat them out nor want them to pay back. You don't even have the heart. “It’s allowed. If you're caught by Commander Thorn—or even worse, Commander Fox—I'll even cover for you, you know that?”

Fireball’s slight upward head tilt marks his apparent enthusiasm, swayed by your persuasion. “Promise, Senator?”

You chuckle softly. “Cross my heart. It's fine, have one with me.” After a second, they crouch a little to read the labels on the cups before plucking one off the carrier for themselves each. You notice that Nemec actually took your usual hot double-shot mocha, but you don't even feel bad. Fireball took the iced shi-shok latte, and that left you the hot double-shot less-sugar koja nut latte—thank stars for the invention of double-shot caf.

You sip on your caf carefully, humming pleasantly at the feel of smooth blend of milk and caf seeping into your tongue. You feel rejuvenated instantly. Both troopers have their helmets off as they enjoy their own caf; they look so much alike. “Have you ever heard the Coruscant Guard's marshal commander is both exhausted and terrifying?” you ask them.

Fireball snorts, seemingly dropping all courteous manners and already grown easy with you. “All the time, Senator. Everything about him? They're all true.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Including the silly rumor that the real Fox was actually devoured by an eldritch creature from Level 2?”

“And that his armor is possessed by the spirit of an ancient Sith Lord that sought the Light?” Nemec’s eyes glint in humor, a stark contrast to his stricter upbringing. He shrugs. “Yeah. We might even believe it.”

“Say what you want but he's efficient,” Fireball asserts, clearly enjoying the dive into the topic—especially since it's his chance to talk about a commanding officer far above him in a safe bubble. “Extremely dedicated. Most clones, shinies especially, either aspire to be him or are afraid of him.”

“That’s true,” you reply, almost in awe. You wonder how they keep up to these smaller details. Perhaps a central comm channel for everyone… with a server that magically doesn't crash regularly. “So while you're here, do you report to him?”

Nemec finishes another sip of his mocha before answering, “We report to our lieutenant. And to Commander Stone, Senator.”

You frown. “Why him and not Fox?”

“It's… pure logistic and functional,” Fireball goes to explain, “Stone is the top Corrie liaison specifically assigned for other battalions. Any arrangements or requests coming from any troopers outside the Coruscant Guard go through him. But not rarely do most commanders go directly to Fox, cutting through the chain of command.”

“Pure logistic and functional,” you hum in awe. Maybe you should observe and study these chains of commands further as it apparently interests you.

“And uh, another thing, Senator,” Nemec's voice plunges through your beginning of a thought. He's taking another sip of his hot mocha, eyes already wide awake from the caffeine. “We're assigned to be your escorts as well. So if you want one of us to run an errand, give the order.”

“Yeah.” Fireball nods enthusiastically, shaking his iced caf in a circled motion that emits the cluttering noise inside the cup. “We’ll handle it. We're good.”

“Good?” You quirk an eyebrow at them, a little teasingly. “On the field, yes. But anyway, how are your data entry and administration skills?”

Hesitating to reveal a truthful answer, Fireball's mouth is gaping like a fish. A humorous sight to you that you have to stifle a giggle behind your hand. Nemec, seemingly with a clearer mind perhaps thanks to double shot, takes over but shares the hesitation. “I… we… clones learn quickly.”

“No worries, I was just joking. You're here as escort guards, not my aide.” You let the last of your laugh dissipate into the air, followed by the troopers’ nervous laugh as well, and simultaneous big gulps of caf to ease their nerves. Lacking more information and desperate for it, you keep shooting questions. “Does that entail you both will escort me to and from my apartment as well?”

Nemec nods. “Yes, Senator.”

“And be present at your home office too,” Fireball adds informatively. A slightly grimmer expression slides into his countenance. “Considering recent assassination attempts. Strict order from command to be by your side, wherever.”

“I see,” you hum thoughtfully, instinctively glancing behind your shoulder expecting someone watching your every move—you could be a target for something you've said in publicly aired senate sessions. Both clones can't help but notice your movement, and share a sympathetic glance. With a clear of the throat, you return to your easier side once again—easygoing, friendly smile, encouraging demeanor, sharp ears to listen. “So. You… two haven't been assigned to escort duty ever prior to this, have you?”

“True. This is our first.”

“Good for you, Fireball.” Your smile breaks into a small grin—an encouragement, before it's to be hindered when you're sipping from your hot caf again. “First time for everything. Learning by doing, yes?”

“Agreed,” Nemec says calmly, a foreign touch of political tone etched into his caf-induced mannerism. It's somehow both a weird and not weird sight to you. “Speaking of something else, don't you have work to do, Senator?”

You had to make sure that it's him, Nemec, who had the audacity to pull a diabolical move like that on you, and not Fireball. Your gaze flits between the two of them and, yes indeed it was Nemec. “Who are you, my mother?” you playfully retort, even giving him a stink eye. You break into another grin and laugh before any of them could show concern for being written up. Both troopers visibly exhale in relief. You grin. “Thanks for the reminder though, Nemec. I should better finish whatever's on my desk before clocking out.”

As you bypass them to step inside your office, behind you Fireball cackles victoriously from glee he's felt on the first day of the job. “Thanks for the welcoming caf, Senator!”

Their smiles are joyously contagious. “Pleasure, gentlemen,” you reply with grace, as you raise your caf toward them in a toast. “Hope you have a great time on Coruscant!”

Credits: Blaze and Steel (the Corries mentioned earlier) are from @hellfiresky's brilliant, cracky shiny clones fic RED TIDES! Go check it out 🏃

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat @gh0st-c0mpany @br00kthe0takuuuu @ct7567329 @returnofthepineapple @gloriousinthebattle @nymphali-dae @leannathespacewerewolf @remotelyhauntedstatue

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