Work Text:
Names/Earning Names or Force Sensitive Clones or Obi-Wan Kenobi
Note:This is set before Gregor’s TBI/going MIA, so he doesn’t have the laughing thing. Also, armor aside, Cody is not a ray of sunshine.
“What’s with kids these days?” Cody was brought out of his pleasant, post-mission weapons maintenance headspace by his captain’s words. He didn’t look at Gregor, continuing to clean his blaster, but did give the other his attention.
“I don’t know, Gregor. What is with kids these days?” He didn’t know where Gregor got the emotional energy to gripe about ‘kids,’ by which the commando meant anyone more than two growth cycles younger than himself. No one in the 212th was under 10 and Gregor hadn’t been back to Kamino in years, meaning he hadn’t interacted with an actual clone child in at least that long.
“The names. These days, they see a rock and decide it really represents them and then they’re called Pebble or something forever!”
“We don’t have anyone named Pebble.” Cody said, squinting at the trigger guard of his weapon, trying to see if he’d gotten all the black dust out of the grooves. “And if you’re mad at that Corrie, Stone, he’s our age, not a kid.”
“It was an example!” Gregor said dismissively. “Vode aren’t choosing names these days. Just words.”
“Names are just words.” Cody told him. “What’s got you worked up about this, anyway?”
“I witnessed how they pick names.” Gregor growled.
“Is this an actual ‘they’ situation or just you saw it once and have decided the behavior pattern applies to all our shinies?”
“Semantics. Take that guy-” He pointed across the room at a clone who was busy adding some personalized paint to a vambrace in addition to his slightly scuffed, standard 212th paint. “The General got us those fancy meal packs in the last resupply, right?”
“I remember. I was there and also it was yesterday.” Cody sighed, putting aside his blaster and getting out a vibro knife that had droid oil crusted into the handle.
“Well, that kid’s squad had soup bowls with spices and shit. And he found a bay leaf. I was passing and I heard him say it had a good taste and fun texture. Then he started eating the single bay leaf out of everyones’ bowl. I don’t even think you’re supposed to eat those!”
“They’re edible. Nat-borns wouldn’t cook with them otherwise.”
“It took him like five minutes to finish chewing one !” Gregor’s voice ratcheted up in volume due to his indignation. “By the time I went back around to throw out my tray, his whole squad was calling him Bay and he was grinning like a di’kut!”
“Why is this an issue? Your commando trained. I know for a fact lots of them are named after actions and personality traits.” He could feel Gregor’s glare on the side of his head and knew he’d made a valid point.
“I guess… it’s not the types of names. It’s how fast they choose them.” Gregor admitted after a pause. “None of those vode had ever seen a bay leaf before, but after 10 minutes, one of them is Bay.”
Now Cody looked at him, noting the pinched expression on the captain’s face. “I think… we had more time to choose. Before the war started. Yes, we were all busy and getting ready for when the Jedi would need us, but far fewer of us were dying per cycle.” He said slowly. “I know my remembrances have more numbers earlier in the list than later, regardless of the vod’s age when they marched on.”
Gregor startled slightly and Cody could see his memory working. Bad as things had been for cadets before the Jedi came, they didn’t die as often or as randomly as active duty soldiers. Predictably so, but still not something Gregor had given much consideration to.
“If the odds are good you’re going to end up in someone’s remembrances sooner rather than later, might as well be with a name rather than a designation. Even if the name might not have suited you long term.” Cody said with a shrug before sliding the now clean vibro knife back into its sheath.
“You really know how to bring down the mood, commander.”
“You were already in a bad mood.”
“No, it was good natured grumbling. Part of my ori’vod responsibilities.” Gregor’s smile was teasing as he seemed to shake off the gloom brought by Cody’s statement.
“You are not my ori’vod. Same age.” Cody told him with a half smile. He turned his gaze back to the recently named Bay, who was holding up his vambrace to show a friend the careful, orange-gold sprig of leaves that curled around the panel. “Pick something else to gripe about. Let them be happy about their names.”