Chapter Text
Kinnick came to with a flash beyond his eyelids, he slowly opened his eyes and a light hit him, the light from beyond the opening hatch. A sharp pain behind his eyes made him scrunch up his features and close his eyes. A knife was being driven into his skull. That was the only explanation.
"Hey, Kinnick, right? We gotta get moving, can you walk?"
Kinnick opened his eyes again and was rewarded with a small flashlight going in either eye before clicking off. "Who are you?"
"I'm Kix, remember?"
"Yeah." His words were coming together now, no longer slurring together embarrassingly, though he couldn't say he felt a ton better. "Gah!" The knife in his head twisted and his hands flew to his face and pressed pressure into his forehead. He gave a low groan.
"Let's get going, can you walk?"
Kinnick nodded, and Kix helped him unstrap and get to his feet. They were the last two in the transport. How'd he sleep through that?
Together they walked down the ramp, embarrassingly slow, but Kinnick's legs weren't cooperating.
When was the last time he'd walked without having a guard on either side of him, or a droid just getting him up for mandatory movement to keep him from falling too far into disrepair. The last time he'd been allowed to train was at least a week or two ago, and that hadn't been for long. He'd mostly just ran out his frustrations until he got too lightheaded to continue. That was a new sensation. Being a clone, he'd always been at the top of his physical game. He wondered if it was from being out of shape or from blood loss. Or maybe radiation.
Kinnick knew it couldn't be healthy to have that many scans done on a person, not with the radiation that emits from them.
It was probably from being out of shape.
He remembered Kix's voice. It had been so long since he'd been called by his name and not his CT number, or CX number, though that technically wasn't his anymore. It felt nice, really.
Of course the moment would be fleeting since he'd just be hooked into another machine once everyone got settled at the new location. Which was obviously not here. An arid planet with grass a dull brown color. They must just be taking a stop.
"..Kinnick!" A finger snapped in front of his face and Kinnick blinked. Had Kix been saying something? "You with us?"
He glances around. He's in some sort of tent, with several other clones lounging around, in various states of healing. "Where are we?" He asked slowly.
"That's right, you were asleep when we explained everything."
Kinnick's face heated up a bit and his eyes darted away.
Kix continued in a flat tone, "Well, Kinnick, congratulations. You've been picked up by the rebellion."
"Rebellion? What?"
"We're a group of clones plus some others lifting our middle fingers to the empire."
"Oh. I see." He did not see. Kinnick frowned. A clone rebellion? No, they couldn't fight the empire. He shuddered at the thought.
Kix pulled out a needle, "I'll need to do some blood work to see what all is in your system. You were pretty out of it."
Kix reaches out towards him and Kinnick shoves him away, screeching, "NO!" The tent goes silent and Kinnick turns red, and adds more quietly, "No-no needles."
Kix pauses, shock flashing across his face before it hardens to the coldness of a battlefield medic, then it softens as if remembering something and he sets the needle down.
"Anyways, we're on Saleucamai. You need to rest. I don't know what all drugs you have in your system, and Coric stole my med scanner, so we won't know for a bit. So, don't do anything too crazy. Need anything else?"
"I'm cold." It wasn't true. He was warm actually, but he needed something around himself. Something comforting and he was hoping for a blanket of sorts.
If Kix called his bluff, he didn't show it. Grabbing a canvas blanket off of a pile of neatly folded ones and tossing it at him before he left the tent.
Kinnick wrapped himself up tightly, folding his knees to his chest where he was sitting atop a pile of crates and tarps, staring forward.
He'd been staring a lot lately, I mean, that's all you could do when being trained as a CX assassin during the long hours of standing still and silent. When they shoved a muzzle over your mouth to force you to learn to communicate with your peers using sign. When you were given a whole cocktail of drugs and who knows what else to keep you passive and semi-conscious while they ran scans on your brain.
He dug his fingers into his forearms and rubbed deep into the tissue to keep himself grounded, working his jaw back and forth slowly. He buried his face in his arms, his buzzed hair scratching against his skin. He missed when it was long and soft, with the gentle curls that are natural to clones who take even the slightest care of them.
He sat there for long enough that his teeth started hurting from the pressure of grinding his teeth together.
A hand pressed gently into his back and Kinnick's head shot up. A clone was staring back at him, his hand wrapped with a bleeding bandage. "Hey, kid."
Kinnick glanced away.
"Where'd you come from? You weren't here a little bit ago."
Kinnick didn't respond, his voice felt dry and heavy, and frankly he didn't trust his voice. He wanted to apologise, but he couldn't find it in himself to use his hands to communicate either. The clone looked around, and Kinnick turned even redder. He'd always flushed easily growing up, and even now.
"Kix brought him in a little bit ago, I think he's from the rescue mission last night." Someone said and Kinnick looked up to see another clone, with a handlebar mustache leaned up against a crate, and rubbing at the back of his neck.
He wished he could shrink away into oblivion. "The mission at that new medical base with that new crazy scientist the empire came up with?" The mustache one nodded. "Oh."
Attention turned back to him, "Well I'm Winslow." The one sitting next to him offered, holding out his hand. Kinnick stared at it blankly before reaching out and holding onto his hand with the tips of his fingers, and glancing up at Winslow for confirmation that he was doing it right. He was not. Kinnick's mouth flat-lined. He hadn't talked- like really communicated with anyone in over a year. And he was shy before that- and isolated but that was besides the point. And no one had ever really done this to him.
Winslow gazed at their hands before gently adjusting Kinnick's grips so their hands were intertwined and moved it up and down. "Handshake."
Kinnick gave a slow nod, and shook his hand back.
They sat like that for a long, painful, awkward minute.
"Gah!" Kinnick grabbed at his forehead as the metaphorical knife drove in further. It seemed to have expanded to cover all the way to his temple as well. He rested his head between his knees, draping his arms over his head.
Kix rushed in at that moment, and he heard something beeping before he cursed. Boil asked what was wrong and Kix muttered, "High dosages of sedatives, and a hallucinogen." Kinnick stared up at him pleadingly, hoping he realized he didn't know what that meant. "It's not dangerous, It'll be out of your system in a few days, but it'll be miserable."
Kinnick frowned. It couldn't be that bad, I mean, he was fine so far.
It was in fact, that bad.
Kinnick spent the afternoon throwing up anything that was left in his stomach, and dry heaving after that, bile burning his throat. Kix finally took him to a Fresher and set him up on the floor so he wasn't far from the toilet and didn't have to get up between episodes. By the end he was so so tired that he fell asleep curled up on the floor next to the toilet.
Most of the hallucinogen had worn off with his hours of muttering before this moment, but his dreams were definitely more vivid than normal. And when sleep finally took him, all he felt was dread.
Kinnick grabbed at his Sergeant's armor. "Wait. Please. Don't go, I can't- I'm no good without you-"
His Sergeant turned around, "You'll be fine, Kin'ika. It's just a new program. It's for the best that you take to this line of training. Now get. Don't make the Kaminoan's wait."
"Please. I have a bad feeling about all of this. Ace." Oh goodness. He'd just called his superior by his name. Ace wouldn't have cared before the Empire rose, but now he was scary.
"That doesn't matter, Kinnick." Ace snapped before sighing deeply and placing his hands on Kinnick's shoulders, forcing him to look at him, when Kinnick looked at him like this, he realized Ace's eyes were glassy. Kinnick wanted Ace to promise him that they'd meet again, that they'd see each other and that this would make Kinnick better, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen.. And Ace wasn't one to lie. Kinnick fidgeted with his hands, his eyes darting around. There were Shock Troopers not even ten feet away, Kinnick needed to calm down. He took a deep shaky breath, and as Ace turned to leave, he gave Kinnick a little two fingered salute.
Kinnick's hands dropped to his sides, and he clenched his hands into fists. He could do this, he was chosen for this because he was quiet, because he was stealthy. And if the men who came out of the program were unsettling and cultish. That wasn't his business. Okay, maybe it was. He couldn't do anything about it though.
The first day, when Kinnick walked into the training room, he found himself alone with two assassins and a Mikkian woman in the middle, purple tendrils rippled behind her head like a halo.
Then he was underneath one of the assassins as he held him down, Kinnick's breathing came in quick, deep huffs as the Mikkian caressed his face, placing a leather mask with a metal frame over his mouth, a piece wrapping over his head, a strong pressure keeping him from moving his jaw, suffocating him and drowning words before they could form.
Kinnick gasped, looking up with wild eyes, someone was standing over him, hand on his shoulder near his neck. Kinnick reached up and clamped his hands over his mouth, protecting his neck in the process, curling up away from the man, his breathing echoing in the fresher.
Small pleas and panicked noises came out of his mouth, but he hoped they weren't able to be heard. They wouldn't like it if he talked.
Someone was shouting and then another clone came in, and Kinnick shut his eyes to stop any tears that might come out, awaiting a blow.
Instead, gentle hands drew him up, wrapping around his back and tucking his head into their chest. A gentle heartbeat drawing him back to reality, as well as a bandage wrapped around his hand.
He fell asleep again eventually, drowning in exhaustion. The rest of his dreams weren't much better, but every time he woke up forgetting where he was, he was reminded by the arms around his back, the heartbeat, and the wrapped up hand.