Steamy Bean Tapcaf

“Can’t blame ‘em. How did you find it?”

“I had a squadmate who had some friend in the Guard, I think. He showed me while we were on leave once. I guess you put in an order already?” he asked, gesturing briefly at the counter.

Nines nodded, but further conversation was paused when the astromech-turned-service droid Peet rolled up to say hello, as he often did. “Hey, Peet,” Trees offered. His greeting got a series of happy blips and beeps in reply. Trees added, “This is my friend Nines, he’s new.”

Nines raised a few fingers in a tiny wave that Peet undoubtedly did not see. “Hey there. Nice paint job, buddy.”

Peet beeped happily again before waving a little arm and rolling away to clear a table nearby.

“Here I thought you didn’t have any droid friends,” Nines remarked.

Trees rolled his eyes as he took a sip from his drink. “Yeah, well, Peet only recognizes me ‘cause I’m in here every day on leave. His optical sensors are shot.”

“Oh.”

“The owner nabbed him before anything bad happened, though. It’s why he’s here and not in a scrap heap somewhere.”

“Right.”

Trees wondered if he’d been a tad too blunt. He often was. But Nines’ name was called from the counter, so he got up to get his drink before Trees could think further. He took another drink, letting the salty-sweet caramel flavor distract him before his thoughts got ahead of him.

When Nines returned, he set down his cup, two cinnamon swirl pastries in a bag, and a wad of napkins. “They looked good to me, but I dunno what you like.”

For a few seconds, Trees just sort of blinked at him while he took one of the pastries out and bit into it. When he noticed, Nines nudged the other towards him.

“Oh,” Trees finally said, setting his drink down and pulling the bag towards him. “Yeah, thanks.” The cinnamon swirls weren’t his favorite–he preferred the chocolate ones–but the fact that Nines had thought of him was touching. And he wasn’t going to say no to offered pastries after months on rations.

“So, how’s that commando they found doing?” Trees wanted to know. “The one with the head trauma?”

Nines nodded, swallowing the mouthful of kaff he’d taken. “Yeah, Captain Gregor. He’s…” He paused, thinking. “He’s alright. I mean considering what he’s gone through, I’m impressed, but his memory is still kinda shaky.”

“So the amnesia…?”

“Still there,” he said. “He knows who he is, he remembers his training, his station. But, things like names and where things are onboard aren’t as solid. He’ll get there, though.”

“Is he staying with the Two-Twelfth?”

Nines nodded, taking another bite of his pastry. “Yeah, he’s more comfortable with us. We’ll take care of him.”

Trees nodded back. That made sense. He picked up his pastry and took a bite. Yeah, he couldn’t argue with fresh pastry. When he could, he asked, “Your commander’s happy to have him back, I imagine?”

“Oh, yeah, Cody’s over the stars,” Nines said. He added with a smile, “Not that he’d ever say it. Reputation, and all that.” After another short pause while they enjoyed their drinks, Nines asked, “And how’s um… how’s General Unduli’s pet duck doing?”

Trees smiled despite himself and shook his head. “Well, the duck is happier than a bantha in sand, but Magazine Squad has made threats of ah… fowl play if the thing has another accident in their section of the barracks.”

“Commander Gree hasn’t put it under a microscope yet?”

“Hasn’t managed it yet.”

Nines nodded, his earrings glinting as he turned his gaze out the window. “You think Fours would like this place? Poor guy needs some relaxation time.”

Trees hummed, his mouth full of kaff. “I know the feeling. I’ll message him when he’s on leave next, but…”

“Who knows when that’ll be, I know,” Nines finished. “Well, maybe we can snag Elevensies when he’s off-duty.”

“Oh, yeah, maybe.”

“Did you and the early birds do that when Sevenset was still in the Guard?” he asked.

Trees tilted his head. “Early birds?”

“The first of the Numbers. Loops, Do-si-do, you.”

Oh. He hadn’t thought about it like that, but… he was sort of a founding member, wasn’t he? That was weird. “Yeah, we usually didn’t end up in kaffés, though.”

Nines chuckled. “I’ll bet. Sevenset does not strike me as the type to appreciate the slower aspects of life, when given the choice.”

“Actually,” Trees said, setting his cup down, “he’s said he tried kaff–all the Guards do eventually–and it actually calms him down.”

Nines looked at him, his eyes narrowing in thought as he took in the information. “Fascinating,” he said at length. “Somehow that simultaneously makes no sense and all the sense in the world…”

“Right?”

"So what is he like drunk?"

Trees shook his head, a dozen memories crossing his mind. "He's something, alright. He and Do-si-do are a hazard to society."

"I can only imagine," Nines smiled.

"I recommend keeping it to the imagination."

He laughed a little. After a brief pause, he wondered aloud, "I wonder what the commander would be like if he ever got drunk?"

Trees took a second to think about it. What would the ever-stoic commander be like after a few too many to drink? “Depressing, maybe,” he mused aloud.

Nines nodded pensively. “Maybe. Maybe he’s a sad drunk.”

Trees nodded back, but didn’t get a chance to say anything because a someone approached their table, a little cautiously. He was a clone, but he had no military uniform on. Instead, he had a grey shirt and a brown apron with The Steamy Bean printed in tan letters on the chest. A nametag on the strap read Vokean.

“Um… hi,” he said, a nervous smile on his face. He raised a hand in a little wave, and Trees noticed the other arm was in a sling, pinned to his body. “I heard one of you was Nines?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Nines answered.

“You’re Trees, you’re here all the time, right?”

He nodded.

“I’m Voke. Well–” he gestured to his nametag. “I’m–I was Elevensies’ squadmate. He talked about you guys a lot.”

Trees blinked, and Nines’ polite smile wavered. “Oh,” he said. “You’re–you were the one he was worried about, huh?”

Voke smiled a bit. “Yeah. I got lucky.” It was said with the full knowledge of those who had not been so lucky.

“Well, it’s good news,” Nines said. “Elevensies was pretty torn up about it, I can only imagine the rest of the squad was like.”

Trees was far more interested in a different question. “How did you get that lucky?”

Voke turned slightly, pointing over his shoulder. “Tini. Tiniriss, she owns this place. I’d been coming here ever since one of the sergeants showed some of us shinies. She put in a few words with some people, I guess. So I’ve got a job here, now.”

“That’s amazing, Voke,” Nines said, and Trees nodded along. “So you can still see your old squad sometimes, yeah?”

“Yep.”

That was amazing. An injury serious enough to need invasive surgery usually meant transfer or relegation to desk duty for most soldiers, and most of them hated stuff like that.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say hi, and thanks for entertaining Elevensies all the time. He loves you guys.”

That… felt good. Trees wasn’t usually a caretaker–his squad could attest to that. But it was nice to know this group of weirdos was good for something other than casual treason.

“Hey, did you make either of these?” Nines asked, gesturing with his cup at Trees’ cup.

Voke’s face brightened. “I did! Tini does the food mainly, and I’m doing most of the drinks, unless there’s a rush.”

Trees looked down at his caramel latte drink. It was really good. Always was. “Well, you made it well,” he said.

“Thanks,” the younger trooper smiled. “I’ve gotta get back to work, but it was good to put faces to names.”

“Glad to hear you’re alright,” Nines said warmly. Trees smiled back, probably failing to match the same level of warmth. He never had gotten the hang of that.

When Voke was out of hearing range, Trees set about finishing his cinnamon swirl pastry.

Nines sipped at his drink, looking out the window at the street. “Maybe we can drag the other boys here some time instead of 79s,” he mused. “It’s a lot safer, if we’re gonna have Fives, Sevenset, and Do-si-do all in the same place.”

Trees snorted. “Yeah, maybe…. They make good hot chocolate.”

-scene break-

Sixes’ stomach growled for the fifth time in as many minutes as the aromas of the spicy noodle dishes in the takeout bag Thire was carrying wafted through the filters in his helmet. The Death Wings had a couple days on Coruscant before shipping out with the 327th for a siege busting mission later in the week, and Thire had happened to have a free lunch hour today. Unfortunately, it was the same day Sixes had been up since the crack of dawn or just before to go over the spreadsheets of repairs required for the ships, so he hadn’t eaten in about seven or eight hours.

“So somehow, the kaff machine in the officer's mess had been running on dekaff for a week before anyone noticed,” Thire was saying, continuing a story he’d started upon passing the officer’s mess hall. “And the only reason we really did notice was because Fox almost shot the thing out of revenge the afternoon of the last day.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Thire laughed out loud. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, we finally checked the box of those little pods of kaff–you know the ones, right?” Sixes nodded. “Yeah, so we checked, and the box said they had caffeine, but when we checked the little things, no caffeine!”

“How’d that happen?”

Thire held up a finger, and Sixes had strong suspicions there was a knowing smile on his face as he opened his office door and went in. “Well, when we finally got to the bottom of the box, we found a note: ‘How long until Fox lost it? All my love, CT seven-seven seven-seven.’”

Sixes carefully schooled his expression into vague curiosity before lifting his helmet off and sitting down across from Thire at his desk. “Who?”

Thire, also without his helmet now, paused in taking out the containers of noodles from the bag. “Wait, have I not told you about Sevenset?”

“You haven’t told me.” Technically true.

His brother set his order of Sriluurian spiced noodles in front of him, then set out his own order of noodles with a side of dumplings. “Sevenset served in the Guard for almost a year and a half before the Zillo Beast happened. And I guess he made it his life’s work to make Fox as aggravated as he possibly could. It’s one of the rumors on why he got shipped back to Kamino for ARC training.” He opened a drawer and took out two pairs of chopsticks, handing one to Sixes. “I personally thought he was hilarious most of the time.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Oh hush. Anyway, when he wasn’t being a big brother to anything that stood still long enough, he was making up all different ways to poke Fox,” he went on, taking off his vambraces and gloves, then shoving a bunch of noodles in his mouth with the chopsticks right after. “So,” he said around the food in his mouth, “when Fox saw his number signed on that note–oh man.” He swallowed and grinned. “It was so damn funny. He threw the box across the room and smacked one of his sergeants in the face.”

Sixes imagined Sevenset would be beside himself with delight knowing an old prank had finally paid off. Maybe he’d tell him next chance he got. Maybe. But he just nodded, chewing his own lunch, which was absolutely delicious, as usual. The Noodle Bar always had the best stuff. Mira always had the dishes made with a little extra spice for him and his batchmates.

“So aside from Fox nearly bursting a blood vessel,” he said, avoiding Thire’s habit of talking with his mouth full, “what have the Red Bastards been up to?”

Thire shrugged. “Not much for now. Dealing with the five-oh-first being on leave for a few weeks after Umbara was a trip, but they always are. We were all pretty happy to see those guys ship off finally.” From the vague mentions Fives and Echo dropped during meetings, Sixes would have to agree. “You heard anything from Nero?”

He had. In fact, he’d spent about four weeks with Nero’s battalion while recovering from his cybernetics surgery, but he didn’t want to tell Thire that yet. He wasn’t sure when he wanted to tell his two other batchmates, actually. But… he also wasn’t a great liar, so he had to word this carefully. 

“Yeah, I got a transmission from him about a month ago. He’s still up to his stealing ways.”

Thire smiled through a tangle of noodles hanging out of his mouth.

“Couldn’t tell me much more than that, of course.”

“Of course. I heard from the Grump Himself after the strategy conference almost blew to bits. Ranting about his general being too altruistic for his own good again.”

“Sounds like Bacara.”

Thire nodded, unable to speak after shoving an entire dumpling into his mouth at once. Unfortunately for him, that was the moment someone chose to hit the buzzer on his door. He paused for a second to tap a button on his desk that projected an image of the visitor. It was another guard with a stack of datapads in his hands. Seeing that, Thire visibly chewed faster, but Sixes could tell it would still be a while before he could speak without spraying masticated dumpling across at him.

“Come in,” he called, saving his brother the trouble.

There was a whoosh as the door slid open. The guard came over to the desk, already speaking hurriedly.

“Hi, Commander Thire! Sergeant Brigs was supposed to bring these, but he got caught up doing something for Captain Iode, so he told me to do it, sir.”

Thire had somehow managed to swallow the dumpling. He nodded, wiping his hands on a flimsi napkin, then holding his hands out for the datapads. “Thanks, kiddo. I’ll let him know you got the job done.” He pulled open another drawer and set them inside.

“Thank you, sir!”

The guard’s enthusiasm was familiar for some reason, but with the identical armor, Sixes couldn’t yet put his finger on why. But then, the guard turned to leave and visibly started up on seeing him.

“Commander!” He took his helmet off, and of course, it was Elevensies.

“Hey, kid.”

“What you doing here?” He glanced at Thire, and quickly added, “Sir.”

“Having lunch with my brother,” he answered, inclining his head to the brother in question. “When did you get that ink?”

Elevensies was now sporting the tattoos he’d once described to the group. A pair of bright red vertical lines under his left eye matched the set above his right eyebrow. The kid’s face brightened, one hand instinctively moving to touch the ones on his cheek. “Oh, about a week ago. One of the older guards has a tattoo gun, and he offers the rookies like me first dibs when he gets it out.”

Sixes nodded. “They’re not bad. How’s that squadmate I read about on the comm? He end up okay?”

Elevensies nodded, the longer curls on top of his head bouncing. “Yeah, he’s okay. He got a job at the kaffé on level one of the barracks.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, so we still get to see him every once in a while.” His satisfied smile was only interrupted by Thire clearing his throat. “Oh, sorry, sir, I’ll leave you to your lunch–I just was saying hi–”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Thire said, raising a pacifying hand. “One question: how in the nine hells do you two know each other?”

Elevensies looked back to Sixes, perplexed. Understandable. “Well, he’s CT eleven eleven. I’m CC sixty-six sixty-six,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “Weren’t you just telling me about a seventy-seven seventy-seven?”

“Oh, you were talking about Sevenset?” Elevensies said quietly, which made Thire’s mouth fall open slightly.

“You–you’re–he recruited you?” Thire demanded, glaring at Sixes. “You knew who he was the whole time I was telling that story and you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, you didn’t ask if I knew him. You asked if you’d told me about him. Which you hadn’t.”

Thire’s glare intensified perfectly. “You’re such a dick when you want to be.”

Sixes smiled. “Language.”

“Um… I’ve gotta go, sirs,” Elevensies said quietly, “but enjoy your lunch.”

“See you later, kid,” Sixes said, not missing Thire starting to frown slightly. “Trees and Nines are dirtside too, you should see if you could say hello.”

“Oh, cool! I will, thanks, Commander.” He put his helmet back on, saluted, and then waved on his way out.

Thire huffed, picking up his chopsticks again. “I cannot believe you Nero’d one of my rookies and I didn’t even see it happening.”

Sixes picked up his own chopsticks again. “Should’ve tried having a repeating designation, I guess.”

Thire made high-pitched mockery of his suggestion, then stuffed another dumpling in his mouth. After taking the considerable time needed to chew and swallow, he continued. “I mean, how many of you guys are there, anyway? How many did Sevenset end up tracking down?”

“All of us.”

His brother raised an eyebrow. “All of you? And how many is that?”

“Ten. Zero through Nines. Sevenset always says Fox’s spot is still open, though.”

Thire rolled his eyes. “Yeah, after the prank we discovered last week, I think Fox would sooner shoot him than join him. So who are they?"

Sixes raised an eyebrow in silent question.

His brother elaborated. "The others–who are they?"

He should have expected his curiosity. At least he was almost finished with his noodles, so he wouldn’t worry about having a lukewarm lunch because Thire wouldn’t stop asking questions. "What do you want to know?"

Thire spoke around a mouthful of noodles. "Well I know about one, six, and seven. What about the others? Who’s zero?"

"Zero's actually one of Nero's ARCs. Whisper Company."

"What?” Thire leaned forward slightly. “You're saying Nero knew about these guys and he didn't tell me?"

Sixes shrugged, containing a flinch when a nerve in his shoulder twinged. "I guess."

"Rude…. Who's number two?"

"He's called Do-si-do. He and Sevens started this whole thing, actually."

Thire's brow pinched in thought. "Wait, isn't he a pilot? The ninety-first, right?"

He nodded. "How do you know him?"

Thire smirked. "He's had a few reports against him." Figured. "Who's three?"

"Forty-first guy named Trees. Plays it by the book, good head on his shoulders."

"Oh an island of normalcy. Four?"

This would be a good one. "Fours, actually. He's a Marine."

Thire's smirk grew both in size and maliciousness. "Oh is he now? Reckon Bacara even knows who he is?"

"He doesn't."

"We could fix that. It would be funny."

He was probably right. Bacara's obliviousness was fun to play with, especially when he was the only one of the four in their batch unaware.

“Who’s number five?” Thire asked, using his chopsticks to scrape the last of his noodles into his mouth. Sixes opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by Thire making a noise through his noodles and gesturing frantically with his chopsticks until he had room to speak. “Don’t tell me it’s that kriffing blue bastard from Rex’s Freaks.”

Sixes raised an eyebrow yet again, taking the time to finish his noodles as well. Finally, they were both done, and Thire leaned his elbows on his desk and stared him down.

“Do you know another clone whose designation is fifty-five fifty-five?” Sixes asked.

“Dammit! Do you have any idea how many reports there are with his designation on them?”

“I can imagine a few. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that he, Sevenset, and Do-si-do get along very well.”

The expression of dread-filled horror that spread across his brother’s face was utterly hilarious. “Maker, that’s gonna give me nightmares,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair heavily.

He briefly told Thire about Loops and Nines after that, neither of whom Thire recognized, which wasn’t that surprising. They seemed the kind to keep to themselves, and Nines had previously expressed his dislike of “causing a scene” at 79s or other establishments. Once the list was finished, Thire frowned in thought, fiddling with his chopsticks.

“How many of the commanders do you think know about these guys? Aside from Nero and you. And me.”

Sixes shrugged, also leaning back in his chair. His shoulder twinged again, sending a bolt of pain down his spine. When would that just stop… “Not sure. I suspect Rex knows, but that’s because it seems like Fives and his batcher are his pride and joy when they’re not making him tear his hair out.”

“What about Cody? Did Rex tell him?”

He paused. “Dunno. Nines might have told him after the campaign on Umbara.” Since he’d been unconscious for several hours after his fight with Krell, he had no idea if Nines, Fives, or Rex might have explained to Cody how the two groups had been communicating properly.

Thire nodded. “I still wanna see Bacara’s reaction.”

“I support that.”

“And I’m sure Gree, Ponds, and Wolffe have no idea. They’d have mentioned it at some point on leave, considering the other members. Wolffe probably would’ve torn into Rex for spreading his chaos.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Wonder if we could drag them all into a transmission just to see what would happen…”

Sixes made a face. “You didn’t get enough of the batch drama on Kamino?”

“That was years ago! I haven’t gotten a chance to see some good drama in ages! I’m always working,” Thire pouted.

He shook his head at his brother. Why anyone would actively seek out interpersonal drama outside of their immediate batch or family, he would never understand. But, Thire seemed to thrive on it.

“I’m not having any part in that,” he said, putting his hands up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Thire from pulling this thing off, but he didn’t have to have his fingerprints all over it. “I’m sure you could get Nero’s help if you wanted, too.”

“Ooh, probably.” Thire’s eyes were bright with intention. “I’m sure he’d love baiting Wolffe.”

“He always does.”

“But,” his brother pointed at him with a chopstick, “if Nero and I do pull this together, you’ll be there, right? No ghosting us?”

Sixes rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there.”

Thire grinned. “Then you can leave everything else to us.”

“You know that’s one of the more terrifying things in this universe to imagine, right?”

“What, me and Nero trying to organize something?” Thire asked.

Sixes nodded.

“Eh, we won’t do anything too stupid.”

That answer did not fill him with confidence.

What could Thire be up to, I wonder? 👀

Also! The Steamy Bean and its inhabitants all belong to @sweetmugofcocoa and the blog for it is @/tiniriss, if you want to learn more about them all. Thanks for letting me use them! As for the Chaos Batch, I have some one-shots and things written for them as well, devised by myself and my dear friend @23-bears, so if there's any interest in seeing those, give a shout 💚