Chapter Text
At one point, when he was five years old- or ten, by nat-born standards- CT-5122 thought he had everything in life figured out.
He was a clone, destined to become a soldier and fight in a war that supposedly hadn’t even started yet. That meant training, lots of training, and if the other batchmates in his tenth group would jeer and mock him for being so serious about it, well, that’s their loss, he would just be the better soldier.
That also meant no distractions, no ‘fun,’ as his batchmates liked to taunt, he didn’t like ‘fun,’ but he did like fun, just not all the time, like them. No distractions meant no sneaking out in the night cycle, no pranks on the trainers or other squads, and no changing his appearance. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway, he would be wearing a helmet when it mattered, no one would see his face. It’s not like he was jealous when the other cadets would cut or dye their hair as a ‘reward’ for excelling their written tests. CT-5122 didn’t want to dye his hair. And he liked it short.
But maybe some nights, in his sleeping pod, he wished he could be more like them, and loosen up more. Then they wouldn’t mock him- if he could loosen up.
That’s why he found himself sneaking out of the mess hall during his batchmates’ designated lunch hour- to go and steal the good desserts from the bigger mess hall near the center of Tipoca City. His batchmates had been smothering chuckles at inside jokes and jibing at each other at the table when the overseeing Kaminoans turned their backs. CT-5122 was too nervous to do that, even when they weren’t looking. They once saw another cadet out of their thousandth group who had been continuously extra rowdy get dragged out of the mess hall with a steel grip to the arm. He had been laughing all the way and called to his batchmates to save a seat for him tomorrow. CT-5122 never saw him again.
So today, when his batchmates prodded each other to sneak out of the mess hall, right when the Kaminoans passed by them, something possessed CT-5122 to volunteer.
“I can do it!” he blurted uncharacteristically, as his batchmates looked at him like he was out of his mind- which he was to even say anything. The oldest, CT-5120, started laughing, his partner in crime CT-5125 following suit. Then they all started laughing, saying he was too much of a coward to do it. He would get caught immediately. CT-5122 narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t get caught instantly, not if he thought of this like a mission, and he was the soldier- his first stealth mission, success meant winning the respect of his tenth group, failure meant being sent away forever, never to see them again.
It was a win-win.
CT-5122 rolled back his shoulders and bunched his fists as he walked, raising his chin to try and look like he belonged there. Yes, he did have a purpose walking down the near-empty halls of Tipoca City, no, he did not need to be escorted back to the mess hall. Truth was his hands were shaking.
Every time a Kaminoan or a squad of cadets passed by him, he tucked his head down, pushing just a little faster down the hall. He was almost there, he could just slip in, grab some extra desserts, and book it back to his batchmates. He seemed to be doing pretty well so far. Turning a corner, CT-5122 was finally in the corridor connecting the center mess hall entrance to the main passageway. There was a lot of traffic around here now, he couldn’t just waltz right up to the door, there was no way he wouldn’t be noticed! He had to find a different way in.
CT-5122 turned and followed the hallway on the outside of the mess hall, the hallway between the outdoors and the interior of Tipoca City. To his right, the corridor’s entire outer-facing section was covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, giving CT-5122 a perfect view of the tumultuous waves and dark sky of Kamino. It was raining, too much to be a shower, but not enough to be a thunderstorm. The waves crashed soundlessly against the support pillars of the island-like buildings in the view from the window, raindrops spattering against the glass randomly. CT-5122 stuck to the opposite wall.
Keeping his hands running against the wall, he walked down the corridor, careful to keep his ears open if he heard someone coming. When he did hear something, he stopped cold. He didn’t actually know what to do next. Frozen in his position, CT-5122 took a moment to listen. Maybe he could look less suspicious if he knew who he was dealing with?
A cadet’s laughter met his ears, but it wasn’t full of joy, it was sharper, as if it were directed at something- or someone- else. He’s heard that laugh before. CT-5122 continued to walk down the hallway slowly, until he came to a fork where the edge of the mess hall was. Three clone cadets were crowded around a fourth by the outer side of the corridor, talking noisily. The one in the middle with his back to CT-5122 shoved the fourth cadet, making him trip backward against the window.
“Ha ha, look at ‘em, CT-4665, his lip’s trembling- haha!” one of the cadets by the side of the middle cadet laughed. That caused the other boys to join in. CT-5122 froze again.
The middle cadet went forward, bending over the boy on the ground. “I told you not to take our desserts- everyone knows only we are allowed ‘em!” He gestured to his two friends. The fallen cadet trembled.
“I- I just took it from the lineup! I didn’t know!” he said shakily.
“Oh, that’s a load of blaster fire- you’ve done this before, it’s time we teach you a lesson,” the middle cadet sneered, before he kicked the fallen cadet straight in the stomach.
CT-5122 had to shove both his hands over his mouth to keep from gasping. Fortunately- or unfortunately- the cadet on the ground let out a louder similar noise before slumping further against the window. His breath hitched.
“Aww, whatcha gonna do? You gonna cry?” the cadet cooed mockingly before laughing and throwing a kick to the crumpled boy’s side. “Soldiers don’t cry- you’re just a baby! A crybaby, wah, wah, wah,” he snarled as his friends snickered in derision. “Get up and fight, crybaby! Oh, wait, you can’t! You don’t have the guts.” He kicked him again and the boy on the ground curled further into himself, sniffling.
CT-5122 could feel his eyes grow wide. They were going to really hurt that cadet. They needed to stop.
He could do something. He should do something.
He fisted his hands down by his sides. He’d been in fights before- he always lost, whether by circumstance or just because he didn’t want to be in the fight in the first place. He wasn’t a good hand-to-hand fighter. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch.
“Hey!” CT-5122 called out to them before he even formulated a plan in his mind. The cadets whipped back toward him, caught mid-action. Oh no. He really should have thought of a plan. Think, think! “Uh- you’re- you shouldn’t be out here!” Real intimidating.
The bully laughed, turning to his friends. “Look at this, we got ourselves a stickler… you’re so scared to be out in the hallway? Betcha you haven’t even been outside in the rain, have you? Come on, stickler, make me move.” He stepped forward, away from the cadet on the floor, which was good, but toward CT-5122, which was bad. CT-5122 brought his chin up, trying to look taller.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you hit me, I’ll yell, and the Kaminoans will hear and take you away,” he stated firmly. “When they take you away, you’ll never come back, I know, it happened to my batchmate-” it didn’t, but the bully didn’t need to know that- “so if you hit me, you’ll wish you hadn't.”
The cadet scoffed, but his stance tightened a little. “Please, like that ever happened.”
“Oh, it did happen. I followed them. I’m good at sneaking out, like I’m doing now. I followed them and saw they took him to a room, and I snuck inside too. And I saw them scoop his brains out!” CT-5122 lurched forward as the bullies flinched back. The other two looked scared and started to back away, while the main cadet still stood his ground.
“That’s such a lie!” he growled. “The Kaminoans don’t do that.”
“How would you know? Did you see them?”
“Er,” now he also took a step back, “no- but it’s still a lie!”
“Oh really, you wanna test that?” CT-5122 took a deep breath like he was going to scream, and the cadets made sounds of fright as they scrambled over themselves back to their mess hall. Only the main bully, CT-4665, turned to look over his shoulder to give CT-5122 a death glare before he started running. CT-5122 took another breath for good measure.
They were probably going to tell on him. He needed to leave quickly. A sniffle caught his attention as he turned his head to the cadet on the floor, who was now seated upright. He leaned back touching the window, staring at nothing as his tears dried.
The cadet then sniffled again, wiping his nose with his sleeve and hand. CT-5122 cringed, that wasn’t sanitary whatsoever. The other boy blinked up at him for a while before a smile split across his face revealing a gap tooth. He jumped up.
“Hi! I’m CT-5385, what’s your designation?” he said, raising the same hand he had just wiped his face with to shake in greeting. The cadet’s slightly shaggy hair curled against his forehead, bouncing whenever he moved. His eyes shone brightly, like he wasn’t just crying a few minutes ago. CT-5122 looked down at the offered hand without moving his head. Oh, he was going to regret this, but he had to be polite. He raised his own hand hesitantly.
“I’m CT-5122.” CT-5385 grabbed his hand halfway up and shook it hard.
“Nice to meet you, CT-5122! Thanks for that, by the way, those guys are always mean to me,” he mumbled by the end of the sentence, still holding CT-5122’s hand. He perked up again. “Hey, we’re in the same thousandth group! What’s your full number?” He got up closer into CT-5122’s face, making the other cadet lean back.
“Uh… it’s CT-69-5122.”
“OOH! Mine is CT-69-5385. We’re from the same decanting group!”
Yeah, like 200 other clones apart, CT-5122’s thoughts deadpanned, but something in the other boy’s expression stopped him from saying anything out loud.
“Hey, we could ask to be on a squad together! We’re in the same group, that’s allowed, do ya want to ask?” CT-5385 was still gripping CT-5122’s hand squashed between them. Oh, how he really regretted even walking over here now. He couldn’t get out of this without hurting CT-5385’s feelings. He could just say he was already planning on joining the squad of his tenth group batchmates and he could leave and never see the other boy again, but that was a lie. And CT-5122 didn’t want to lie. He sighed.
“Sure, why not?” he muttered. There it was, no going back. CT-5385 lit up.
“YES! Haha,” he finally let go of CT-5122’s hand to hug him briefly, “my first squadmate! No one else wanted to be in my squad, my batchmate group hates me.” He leaned back, his face dimming for once. “They think I’m too weak, that I cry too much. So they don’t talk to me anymore. But I’m not weak! I’ll show ‘em, I’ll be the best trooper the galaxy has ever seen!” CT-5385 bunched a fist by his chest and solidified his expression. “I want to be an ARC trooper! Have you heard what they’re going to be like? They sound so awesome! Do you want to be an ARC trooper, CT-5122?” The boy met his eyes, his hair bouncing.
“I, uh…” An Advanced Recon Commando- he heard rumors that trainers were already scouting for the elite positions, cadets only two standard years older than CT-5122 being chosen to take part in the intense future training. CT-5122 never really gave the rank much thought, he just wanted to get through day by day, being the best he could be. Which, he guessed, was like how an ARC trooper would be, the best of the best.
“Yeah, I do.” He smiled. “That’d be cool.”
CT-5385’s eyes positively shone. He laughed, hooking his arm around CT-5122’s shoulders, guiding him to walk back the way he came from the mess hall. “Then we’ll be ARC troopers together,” he said, smiling. CT-5122 was not used to someone being so touchy with him- he preferred his own space thank you very much- but he let it slide, just this once. All of a sudden, he didn’t care what his batchmates would say when he came back empty-handed.
Something in CT-5385’s expression didn’t make him feel so bad.