Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Captain Rex had heard of this particular group—they called themselves the Rat Pack. From what he'd read about them, they were a problematic group of clones whose names mostly consisted of rodents (funny thing was most of them had come from different battalions, so no way that was coordinated). Their success rate was nonexistent (whether it was just undocumented or really that bad had yet to be seen), they didn't play well with others, and all their missions ended up in chaos one way or another.

So this would be fun.

How were these men part of the 104th? Even General Plo had apologized in advance.

But, well, they were in the same system, working the same mission. May as well work together to get this done faster.

~.~.~

A Corellian freighter pulled up beside the Resolute . Before anyone too trigger-happy shot at it, a clone’s voice came through the speaker, flat and without inflection.

“Resolute, this is the Sewer, requesting permission to dock.”

Rex watched through the window, barely listening as one of the officers gave permission to dock. A set of red eyes looked back at him from the freighter’s windows, a little white face standing out in the general blackness of space. Someone pulled the little face away from the window.

“Let’s go check ‘em out,” Skywalker said, and Ahsoka followed eagerly. Rex gave himself a moment to ready himself, then he followed Skywalker and Ahsoka.

A group of seventeen clones practically raced out into the Resolute, all of them some mix of unregulated color. Considering they were part of the 104th, Rex expected them to have the same 104th grays, but most of their armor was painted every color in every galaxy. One of them was flashier than the rest, and Rex assumed he was the leader until a different, less flashy vod stepped forward.

He stepped forward with a cadet—a cadet who clearly never got any color from growing in his tube—clinging to his hand.

Rex bluescreened for about five seconds. Then he had to tune back in because the trooper who stepped forward was taking off his helmet.

“General, commander, captain,” he greeted. He tugged on the hand holding the cadet’s as if he was about to salute, but the kid only held on tighter. He sighed but continued. “Name’s Captain Rat.”

“Good to meet you, Captain,” Skywalker said. He held out a hand to shake Captain Rat's, noticed the cadet clinging to the Captain's other hand, and pulled back with a subtle grimace. “I'm Jedi General Anakin Skywalker. This is my Padawan Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex." He grinned at the rest of the Rat Pack. “Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other for the next few days.”

Rat smiled tiredly. "Guess we are. Sorry in advance, General."

~.~.~

Not even thirty minutes later, something exploded on the ship.

It happened like this:

Possum and Pika were wandering around the ship. It was larger than the Sewer, and they’d never been on a venator star destroyer in a long time. Of course they’d go exploring! They happened upon the armory, filled to the brim with blasters, explosives, and all kinds of weapons.

“You think they’ll let us touch ‘em?” Pika asked. He was already eyeing the explosives with that gleam in his eye.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Rat’s gonna kill us,” Possum replied. 

“But he won’t mind if we touch it, right?”

“Knowing you, it’ll be more than a touch!” Possum grabbed Pika’s hand just as he reached for an explosive. “Besides, we’re working with other vode here. They won’t be too happy if we set something on fire.”

“Who won’t be too happy with what?” a voice asked, and the young troopers froze in place. Slowly, slowly, they turned around and faced a vod with blue tattoos down his face. He was looking at them with a half-smile, and his eyes flickered from them to the explosives and back to them.

“Um,” Possum said.

“We’re looking at the bombs,” Pika said flatly, almost defiantly, as if daring this trooper to stop them.

But instead of immediately reporting them to either captain, the trooper grinned and was at their side in an instant. “What, never seen these kinds before?”

“Rat doesn’t let us have ‘em,” Pika said, dragging a finger over one bomb. “Says we’d destroy the ship in a second. Buuut I'm sure a little touch wouldn't hurt, would it, brother?” His grin was all teeth. Possum didn't like it.

“Well, Rat doesn’t have to know,” the vod said, and Possum didn't like the giddy smile on his face either. At this rate, they'd blow up the armory, if not the entire wing. “Wanna hold one?”

Pika nodded, and Possum just knew that nothing he did could stop either of them. He sighed and settled down to hopefully do some damage control when this situation spun entirely out of control.

“Name’s Hardcase,” the vod said as he took a few bombs down from the racks. “Yours?”

“Pika,” Pika said, “and this is Possum.”

“Nice.” Hardcase handed a bomb to Pika with a grin. “You could do some real damage with these.”

And that was how, with one pyromaniac and one overactive trooper down to do anything, they blew up one of the armory’s walls. It took four vode to dig them out, and Chilla and the 501st’s medic then checked them over. Under the medics’ stern gazes, Possum almost felt bad about this. Pika, however, was as unrepentant as always.

~.~.~

“What’s that?” And a small hand grabbed at his lightsaber.

Anakin grabbed the hand before it could snatch his lightsaber, probably harsher than necessary, and he looked down to see a kid staring up at him with wide red eyes. The kid. He immediately softened his grip—but he kept it firm. “Didn’t your brothers tell you not to touch things without permission?” he asked.

“They did,” the kid replied. “So, what’s that?”

“A lightsaber. Shouldn’t—”

“Like Shaak Ti? She has one. Can I touch it? Is it the same as hers, because that’s stealing ya know? S’what Mal says! He says it’s called pla- plagar- plag—”

“Breathe, kid!” Anakin knelt down to his level. Almost immediately, the kid gulped a great gasp of air. “How about introductions first?”

“You’re the crazy Jedi, and I’m Mouse,” Mouse said. “Can I touch it?”

Anakin blinked. And blinked again. Sure, he knew his reputation beyond fearless Jedi, but he hadn’t expected this kid to say it so blatantly. “It’s Anakin, actually,” he said after a few seconds of stunned silence. “How did you even get here? Shouldn’t you be on Kamino or something?”

“Ba’buir said I’m on an ‘extended field trip,’” Mouse replied.

“Ba’buir?”

“Yep! Can I see that?” His hand, still in Anakin’s grip, reached out again for his lightsaber, and Anakin had to physically keep himself from pushing the kid away. He was only curious, after all.

“Only if you keep still enough for me to grab it,” he chuckled, and when Mouse relaxed his arm, Anakin let go. He unclipped his saber from his belt and held it out for Mouse to see. The kid was clearly starstruck, looking at the saber like it was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. “Kinda different from Master Ti’s, isn’t it?”

Mouse nodded. “Uh-huh. Can I hold it?” And he gave Anakin those large tooka eyes. He knew it should be a bad idea—this lightsaber was his life, after all—but he couldn’t imagine denying this kid this one favor. Besides, who could it hurt? Anakin was right here to keep an eye on him.

So, with a smile, Anakin handed it over. Mouse’s small hand barely wrapped around it before Ahsoka came barreling in.

“Don’t fall for it, Master!” she shrieked, but Mouse was already off.

And Anakin’s lightsaber was gone.

“Where’d it—”

“He stole it!” Ahsoka shouted, racing after Mouse, who had notably three lightsabers in hand!

Anakin raced after Ahsoka. Damn kid— “How fast is he!?”

“I don’t even know!!”

For a moment, Anakin considered pulling the kid back with the Force. But then the kid ran into a trooper’s arms, and when they turned the corner, they were gone. Anakin and Ahsoka skidded to a stop, panting and looking around for the two troublemakers.

“Any idea where they went?” Anakin asked, but Ahsoka shook her head. “Alright, then we split up!”

Before they could split up, an explosion rocked the ship.

~.~.~

Mouse, Raccoon, Pika, Possum, and Hardcase were receiving a thorough dressing down when Jesse left the room. Kix and the Rat Pack's medic had long since left the room around the time Rat and Rex started scolding the troopers. That was around thirty minutes ago. Jesse had stayed for the entertainment, but now he was kinda feeling sorry for them. Not much he could do, though, so he made his way down to medical to visit his favorite medic.

Just as he approached the medbay, he remembered he’d left something in the bunks. Cursing to himself, Jesse turned on his heel and marched back to the bunkroom. Luckily, it wasn’t too far from medbay, but it was still annoying!

He passed by a supply closet, nearly closed all the way. Now, that wouldn’t have been odd at all if it wasn’t for the odd shuffling sounds coming from it. Jesse stopped in front of it, wondering if it was one of the Rat Pack members. Considering four of them (plus Hardcase) had caused quite the stir not even an hour into this trip, Jesse figured he should at least make sure they weren’t causing too much trouble.

Not that he would really stop them. He was sure that no one could stop their shenanigans but their own members. And even that was a maybe.

So Jesse peeked in. And almost instantly regretted it.

Two clones were making out in there. Jesse noped out of there immediately, but he saw enough to know they were Rat Pack.

Jesse turned on his heel back to medbay. He needed to see Kix like now.

~.~.~

A full day had passed without too many more incidents. A fight had broken out between Taz and Fives about something stupid, and he was pretty sure Mouse had stolen a little bit of something from everyone at some point. Rex thought Torrent was chaotic, but they had nothing on these assholes! He and Rat were hanging out in the mess, long after lights out, drinking moonshine and just soaking in the silence.

“How do you deal with them?” Rex asked out of the blue. “Seems like a lot to handle for you alone.”

Rat took a large swig from his bottle. “Lots o’ caf and lots o’ whiskey.”

Rex snorted. “Where d’ya even get the stuff?”

“Weasel has a guy. Comes by every so often.” He then mumbled something about casinos, marriage, and divorce into his drink. After a moment of silence, he sighed and leaned back, a small smile on his face. “They may be idiots, but they’re my idiots, you know?”

Rex nodded because he knew. He thought of Torrent and all the shinies and experienced soldiers he, Skywalker, and Ahsoka had to look after. Just like their general, the 501st were crazy and hard to deal with, but he loved them all. 

“There’s nothing in the world they could do to make me completely hate them,” Rat continued.

Of course, that was when something exploded.

Rex and Rat groaned deeply, got up, and hurried to make sure their idiots didn’t set the whole damn ship on fire.

Chapter Text

To no one’s surprise, the Rat Pack slept on the floor and curled around each other. After dealing with their shenanigans for the day, it was honestly relieving to see them sleeping so soundly. Rat and Rex weren’t around—presumably, they were throwing back alcohol faster than a clone at 79’s—so Mouse had been foisted onto the clones in the middle. Worn out, the 501st set up their own sleeping situation and drifted off.

Kix hadn’t been asleep for five minutes before he heard a scuffle, some loud cursing, and an audible crack. He shot up faster than he really thought he should have and looked to the Rat Pack, most of who were still sleeping. The only one sitting up was a vod with reddish brown hair and Mouse. The vod was clutching his chest—Kix had a feeling his ribs were cracked.

“Can you not kick when we’re sleeping?” the trooper wheezed. “Wake Chilla, will ya?”

“Don’t bother, I’m awake,” Kix grumbled. He would rather deal with this himself than wake Chinchilla. He hadn’t spent too long chatting with him, but it was long enough to know the poor medic was the only one in charge of mending these fools. He respected him enough not to wake him.

Now if only their captains would come to bed!

The vod grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

Kix just sighed. “Come on.” He carefully helped the vod up, a struggle when he was basically smushed between Chinchilla and Malabar, and guided him to the medbay. He didn’t bother waking any of the other medics up, either. He could fix this on his own. From the corner of his eye, Kix saw Mouse snuggle back up between Chinchilla and Malabar, replacing the vod.

The kid looked a little too self-satisfied.

He didn’t give it a second thought. Kix led the vod down the hall and to the medbay, sitting him down on the closest chair possible. The trooper was struggling to breathe already, but he didn’t look the least bit concerned.

“You got a name, vod?” Kix asked as he took out a scanner.

“Capybara,” said the vod.

Kix nodded. “I’m Kix.”

Capybara nodded. His upper armor was already off, so Kix had no trouble scanning his chest. Kix hummed to himself.

“Nothing too bad,” he murmured. “Just some cracks. But has this happened before? You’ve got scars, vod.”

Capybara nodded again. “Mouse is a violent sleeper.”

“And he usually nails you in the ribs?”

“Honestly, at this point I think he does it on purpose.”

Kix huffed. “I pity your medic.”

Capybara snorted. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t tossed me or Mouse off the ship.”

A wonder indeed. Kix himself would have done that long ago—or at the very least lectured them. He injected Capybara with a bacta infusion, satisfied that they would heal during the night. “Try not to break ‘em. The bacta’ll do its work, but try not to make it harder.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Capybara saluted with a cheeky grin and got up with a groan. Kix let him lean on him and guided him back to bed.

He tried steering Capybara to an empty bunk, but to his surprise he went back to the pile of vode on the floor. Chinchilla was awake and glaring blearily at Capybara, but he settled down as soon as Capybara rejoined the cuddle. Kix just shrugged and went back to bed.

To his utter satisfaction, Captains Rex and Rat were with their respective groups, sleeping among their vode.

~.~.~

There was something odd about the one named Goldie. He hardly looked at anyone, he generally didn’t look where he was going, and any attempt to make eye contact was unsuccessful. If he didn’t know any better, Fives would have assumed he was blind. After all, he had scarring suspiciously close to his eyes . . .

But Goldie didn’t act blind. Fives had tailed him since morning with Echo, and while going about his business, he never once reached out to orient himself or anything. If anything, he acted like a regular trooper with regular vision.

But there was still something off!

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Echo whispered. “I don’t think anything’s wrong with him.”

Fives grumbled. He didn’t want to admit that Echo was right, but . . . “There’s something off.”

“Well, we won’t figure it out by tailing him like this. Come on, we’ll regroup.”

Fives nodded. As he slunk away with Echo, he didn’t see Goldie turn his head in their direction. He didn’t see the slight smile on his face as he walked away.

~.~.~

Click click click . . .

Echo looked up from his blaster. He glanced around. 

Nothing.

Shrugging, he turned his attention back to cleaning his blaster.

Click click click . . .

His head shot up. What was that noise?

Click click click.

Click click.

Echo looked behind him, expecting to see a creature or something.

Instead, he was looking at Goldie, who was sitting on a crate with his own blaster in hand. He was taking it apart meticulously with his eyes closed, and while that was impressive, Echo couldn’t stop wondering how he even got here without being heard in the first place.

“You need something, trooper?” Goldie asked, and Echo realized he’d been staring too long.

“Uh, no,” he replied slowly. “When did you get here?”

“Just got here,” Goldie replied. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”

Echo stammered for a bit. “No, not at all,” he finally managed, and Goldie chuckled.

He turned back around and focused on his task.

Click click click.

That noise again?

Click click click.

Echo turned around. “Are you doing that?”

Goldie opened his eyes, but he didn’t look up. “Doing what?”

“That sound. Is that you?”

“Why would it be me?”

Echo opened his mouth to reply but—

Well, good point.

He silently went back to cleaning his blaster.

Click click.

Was it rats? Was that it? Something had stowed away with the Rat Pack and now there were rats?

Click click click.

Echo sighed. He resigned himself to work with that odd noise.

~.~.~

Mouse had volunteered to help with the investigation, which was nice of him. Not that Fives really trusted him, but as long as he was within someone’s sight, he wouldn’t be able to steal anything.

They were in the mess, staring each other down. Several other vode were busy eating, but not them. They had work to do.

Fives narrowed his eyes. “What can you tell me about Goldie?”

“He’s quiet,” Mouse replied. 

Silence.

“Anything else?” Fives asked.

Mouse shrugged, grinning cheekily. “Nope.”

This kid . . .

“There’s gotta be something.”

Mouse hummed, made a big show of thinking it over. “Well, usually if someone wants something, they’ll give me something first.”

Was . . . was this kid serious? He wanted a bribe?

Fine, Fives could play this game. He leaned in conspiratorially. “What’s your price?”

Mouse grinned from ear to ear. “A lollipop.”

“A—a what?”

“A lollipop.”

“A lollipop?”

Mouse nodded eagerly. “Chilla only lets me have one if I’m hurt,” he whispered, “but Raccoon usually gets me some anyway.”

“So can’t he get you one now?”

“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have come from you, and you need to pay if you want my information.”

Fives sighed. Was this worth it?

Ah, who was he kidding? It absolutely was! Not too long ago, Echo was talking about mysterious clicking when Goldie was in the room with him—he had to know.

“Fine, kid,” he conceded. “I’ll get you your lollipop. In return, you give me dirt.”

“Deal.” Mouse held out his hand. Fives shook it.

-.-.-

Getting a lollipop was easier than expected. Chinchilla apparently carried around plenty and had no problem giving them out. He didn’t even ask what it was for!

Fives hurried back to the mess hall, where Mouse was still waiting. He was chewing on something, but Fives dismissed it and handed the candy over.

“Now, tell me what I want to know,” he demanded.

Mouse took the candy and inspected it as if he was inspecting gold or credits. He kept it up for a few more seconds before nodding and putting it away. “What did you wanna know again?”

“Tell me what’s up with Goldie,” Fives said.

Mouse tapped his chin. “Well, he said to keep it a secret, but . . .”

Fives leaned in. Mouse leaned in. There was no one else in the mess, no one to listen in on this, and Fives made sure to pay close attention. Mouse leaned in more so he could whisper.

“Goldie’s married.”

Fives blanked for a few seconds. By the time he shook himself, Mouse was already gone, cackling.

Damn kid!

~.~.~

Malabar was good, he had to give him that. While Tup didn’t really have any interest in dyeing his hair—and honestly, how did Malabar manage to have all the tools for dyeing on his person??—he couldn’t help but melt as Malabar twisted strands of hair into an intricate braid. Dogma watched on over Malabar’s shoulder.

It would have been a relaxing morning if it wasn’t for the kid barreling into the room, slamming into Tup and Malabar. Tup wheezed, and poor Malabar was crushed behind him. Dogma just managed to jerk back in time to avoid being crushed. Not even a second later, Fives scrambled in.

“Gotcha!” he exclaimed.

Before he could even blink, Mouse was snuggled in Malabar’s arms. Malabar stared at Fives, unimpressed. “Care to explain?”

Fives opened his mouth, but he closed it immediately after. Then, he stomped away.

Tup turned back to look at Mouse, who had the most self-satisfied look on his face.

~.~.~

Okay, so Mouse was a dead end, but Fives didn’t need him anyway! No, he and Echo could handle this on their own. 

“I give up!” Echo exclaimed, flopping back on his bunk. “What do you even think is going on with him?”

Fives threw his hands up. “I don’t know! There’s just something up with him!”

Echo was about to argue back—he had a finger up and pointing and everything—when a loud smack alerted them. They hurried outside to see who it was and were met with Goldie clutching his nose, glaring at the wall as if it had personally offended him. 

Fives clapped a hand over his mouth to try and stifle his laughter, and Echo wasn’t having better luck. All at once, it clicked—the dude was blind! He hadn’t ever been in this hall, and in a moment of inattention, he’d run into a wall.

Beside him, Echo wheezed with laughter. Goldie turned toward them and pinned them with a glare, but Fives couldn’t really find it in him to be intimidated. Instead, he held out a hand and managed through aborted laughter, “Need some help getting to the medbay?”

“No,” Goldie sniffed and walked away.

Only to run into the doorway.

He accepted the help after that.

~.~.~

Kix watched Chinchilla bind Goldie’s nose with a tired eye. He expected his fellow medic to be equally as done, but Chinchilla was barely holding back his laughter—certainly not his smile, though. He apparently found this hilarious.

Fives and Echo were no better. They were laughing like maniacs. To his credit, Goldie didn’t seem to care.

“How many times does your team get injured over nothing?” Kix asked.

“Not too many—”

“Regularly,” Goldie cut in. “Don’t sugarcoat it, vod’ika.”

Chinchilla pouted, but he couldn’t keep the smile away. “Not enough to be concerning, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Goldie shot back. “Tell that to Capy.”

Chinchilla sighed. “And Pika.”

“And Mouse.”

“And Hedge.”

“Let’s not get started on Hedge.”

Kix flicked his gaze from one to the other as they traded names and situations, chuckling like a couple of children. He just shook his head, and though he was exasperated on Chinchilla’s behalf, a smile still found its way to his face.

Nothing made him more glad to be part of the 501st than this.

Chapter Text

There was quite a bit of datawork to do when the Rat Pack came aboard. Then there came all the shenanigans on the first day—everyone was probably relieved to have a bigger ship to run around in. There really wasn’t any time for anyone to just sit down and snuggle up to someone until that night.

And someone ended up with broken ribs, so truly the Rat Pack couldn’t do anything without someone injuring themselves in one way or another.

When Kix told him about the incident the next morning, Rex didn’t know what to think. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could believe it, especially when he peeked into the barracks and saw the Pack sleeping peacefully—like a giant pile of rodents. Honestly, it looked very comfortable.

But the night time cuddle piles usually weren’t too violent—last night was a rarity. It was the day time ones you need to look out for, he learned.

~.~.~

“Cuddle pile!!”

As if summoned by those two words, a horde of vode with half their armor off piled onto the poor sucker unlucky enough to get caught in the middle. Rex could only watch in horrified awe at the mass of bodies fitting to each other as if they’d done this a thousand times—and let’s be honest, they’ve probably done it more than a thousand times.

“Watch it!” the vod —Capybara, according to Kix—complained. “Mouse broke my ribs last night!”

So that was apparently a thing. Great. Wonderful.

“Want me to kiss it better?” the one with the colorful hair cooed. For some reason, Capybara flushed and turned away. 

Before Capybara replied, Rat tugged him against him, sticking out his tongue in a surprisingly childish manner. “He’s staying with me until you lot learn to stop being fucking animals,” he growled out, to which Chinchilla and the colorful vod whined loudly and obnoxiously. 

Rex just left the room before he could witness any injuries. Deniability and all that.

~.~.~

The next time someone yelled “cuddle pile!” the poor sucker getting tackled was one of Rex’s own. Dogma, in fact. 

And unsurprisingly, a lot of the 501st in the immediate area took that opportunity to just dive right in. The clatter of armor on armor was loud and annoying, and one would think that all that plastoid would make cuddling uncomfortable.  

Rex was about to turn away to do anything else, but someone tugged the back of his blacks, and he found himself falling and absorbed right in the middle of the pile of bodies.

“Hello, Captain,” someone said, and Rex turned to see Rat squished up against him. Rat grinned unrepentantly. “Got caught up in it, didn’t ya?”

“Guess so,” Rex said, and he didn’t bother stopping the smile overtaking him. “This happen often?”

Rat shrugged—well, he shrugged as well as he could when pressed up against so many vode . “It’s a good way to keep everyone busy.”

Crack!

“Capy, I swear if you broke an arm or something!” someone yelled.

“It wasn’t me!”

“I think my armor’s cracked,” Tup spoke up.

“So no broken bones?” Kix asked.

“Oh, there probably will be,” someone else said. “Just you wait!”

“How are we supposed to relax like this?” Rex chuckled.

“Surprisingly easily,” Rat replied, tugging the closest vod closer to him. “Just let it happen, Rex. Not like you can stop it.”

~.~.~

At night, Rex got to watch the Pack pile onto each other to sleep. Capybara was assigned to the outside of the pile, much to the complaints of several Pack members. He was also cuddled away from Mouse, who got Malabar all to himself. Rex watched Possum and Pika shift off a little bit away from the pile—with Shrew surprisingly joining them. Every movement and every position looked as natural as if they’d been sleeping on the floor their entire lives.

Someone passed by in Rex’s peripherals. Kix, armed with a small medkit and a blanket, settled himself at the outer edge beside Capybara. When Rex raised a brow, Kix just shrugged.

“Just in case,” he said. “Don’t want another trip to the medbay in the middle of the night.”

Somewhere behind him, Jesse sighed. The creaking of a bunk signaled his getting up, and soon he too was passing by Rex, settling beside Kix. He immediately latched on and nuzzled affectionately. “M’staying here then.”

“Fine by me,” Kix murmured.

After a moment of stillness, and with no protests from any Pack member, more and more of the Torrent joined the pile. Despite his protests, Dogma joined the middle of the pile with Tup and Hardcase. Echo and Fives managed to wedge themselves between Goldie and Hedge. Little by little, the rest of Torrent joined the pile. Rex himself watched for a little while longer before sighing, grabbing his blanket, and looking for a familiar face to cuddle up with. After a moment of shifting and adjustment, he ended up smushed between Coric and Ayar.

That night was one of the more relaxing nights.

Chapter Text

Hardcase stared at the growing pile of vode as they passed around a bottle of alcohol. Not the stuff made on the ship, the shit that could kill a man if he wasn't careful—no! This was expensive stuff. This was the shit they couldn't even get at 79's, and these guys had a whole box of them!

So naturally, he shoved his way into the Rat Pack Pile and snatched the bottle from one of them—a brown haired one. "Sup bitches?" he said, and he took a swig from the bottle.

The vod he'd stolen it from snickered and shoved him slightly. “You gonna gimme a name before ya steal my drink?” he asked.

“Hardcase,” Hardcase said, and he made to take another drink when the vod nabbed the bottle back.

“Weasel,” he introduced himself. He let the bottle go easily enough when another vod took it from him.

“I'm Hedge,” said the one with way too many scars, giving Hardcase a mock salute. He took a deep drink from the bottle. 

The rest of the Rat Pack introduced themselves like that, plucking the bottle of alcohol from one another and saying their names. Taz, Viz, Pika, Possum, Chilla, Mal, Capy, Cuy, Jerboa, Raccoon, Goldie, Spilo, and Rat. Rat himself took a particularly long swig from the bottle, draining the entire thing in one go.

“Rat!” the kid in his lap whined. “It was my turn!”

“Nope,” Rat said, popping the p unnecessarily loud. “You don't get any of this until you're ten.”

The kid pouted. Jerboa, who was sitting right beside Rat, picked the kid up and settled him on his lap. “This is Mouse,” he told Hardcase. “He's feral and we love him.”

“More feral than Fives?” Hardcase quipped, and the Pack gave each other knowing looks.

“That'd be interesting,” Raccoon, who'd been silent up until now, said. 

“Who's Fives?” Mouse piped up, a comically fierce expression on his cute little face. “He better square up!”

Hardcase laughed, reaching over to ruffle Mouse's hair. “Feisty!” he exclaimed. “I like him!” He quickly pulled his hand back when Mouse's teeth snapped at it. But when he leaned in conspiratorily, Mouse was suddenly all ears, attentive. “He's the one with the stupid goatee and a five on his head. Go nuts!”

Grinning madly, Mouse wiggled out of Jerboa's lap and scurried off to find Fives.

“Now that he's gone.” Hardcase grinned mischievously. “What kind of drinking games do you know?”

The Pack immediately looked at Raccoon with all as if on cue. Raccoon just blinked and shrugged. “Basic ones,” he said.

“Aw, come on! Don't tell me the rumors are wrong!”

“What rumors?” Chilla snickered.

"That we're sexy as hell?" Mal asked, leaning up against Capy. "Because that rumor's true."

“The rumors that you do whatever you want,” Hardcase insisted. “You’re free to do anything, basically! Don’t tell me you haven’t learned any new drinking games.”

“Never have I ever,” Raccoon suddenly whispered, “got drunk off my ass.”

For a while, nothing happened, everyone momentarily frozen in shock at the mischievous grin playing at Raccoon’s lips. Not a second later, though, almost every single one of them reached into the box, snatching their own bottles and taking a swig. Shrugging, Hardcase followed their lead and drank. He’d gotten drunk off his ass before.

Mal brushed his hair over his shoulder and smirked. “Never have I ever faked an injury to get a kiss out of our medic.”

A few of the Rat Pack shamelessly drank from their bottles—all except Weasel, who was a brilliant shade of red. 

And suddenly Hardcase knew he had to get some of the others in on this. Grinning widely, he quickly looked around, spotting Jesse just as he came into the bunkroom. “Jesse, get your shebs over here!” he exclaimed, waving Jesse down.

The Pack eyed Jesse with interest. Jesse himself looked suspicious. “What’s all this?” he asked, though his expression lightened considerably when he noticed the quality of their alcohol for tonight.

“Go ahead and repeat the question, Mal,” Hardcase urged instead of answering Jesse, shoving a bottle of alcohol into Jesse’s unsuspecting hands.

Mal chuckled. “Never have I ever,” he cooed, “faked an injury to get a kiss out of your medic.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped, his face flushing brilliantly. Hardcase burst out in laughter just as Jesse exploded, “I’m sorry, what!?”

“Take a drink, Jesse,” Hardcase laughed. “You and I know it’s true.”

The Rat Pack cooed teasingly, growing louder as soon as Jesse took a reluctant swig. “I don’t blame you,” Weasel teased, reaching over Viz to pull Chilla next to him. “I’m this one’s favorite.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Chilla drawled. “You’re always in my medbay when you’re not injured. That doesn’t get you into the favorites category, I’m afraid.”

“Cyare, you wound me!” Despite the faux hurt in his voice, Weasel nuzzled Chilla’s neck. The medic giggled and pushed Weasel away, though not completely.

“Never have I ever,” Taz interrupted, “stolen random shit and eaten it.”

None of them moved for a moment. Then, at the same time, Hardcase and Raccoon took a drink.

As the night cycle progressed, more and more 501st members joined the game. Rat, who was somehow still functioning despite the frankly scary amount he’d had to drink, brought out more boxes from the Sewer, enough for everyone to get some. At some point, Mouse and Fives returned and joined the game (and even though they were drunk as shit, the Rat Pack managed to keep Mouse away from the alcohol and give him juice). The prompts slowly morphed into straight up weird shit ("Never have I ever gone on a bender and come out without a scratch," "Never have I ever gotten married in Nar Shaddaa," "Never have I ever mauled a droid with your bare hands," "Never have I ever impersonated a separatist leader and got away with it," "Never have I ever acquired a sugar daddy," etcetera, etcetera). They may have known basic drinking games, but this one quickly revealed all the weird and fucked up shit they managed to do.

And as the night cycle progressed, the drunker the Rat Pack got. The 501st was having fun, to be sure, but these prompts were clearly meant as jabs to one another. Jesse was more than happy to record the entire thing once his own embarrassment blew over, and so was Viz, who'd backed out of the game as soon as the truly weird shit started coming up. Viz had brought out their own cam and started recording, a sneaky grin on their face. Jesse nodded at Viz and continued recording. This would all make great archive material they could send to other battalions—for a price, of course.

"Nev—never have I ever," Chilla, now slumped in Weasel's lap, slurred, "fuckin' jumped out th'airlock before the ship landed." And before anyone even took a drink, he tapped Weasel on the head. "It was you, ya dumbass."

"Aww, you worried?" Weasel teased.

Chilla pouted. "You coulda died," he whined.

The rest continued on with the game, but Jesse caught their drunk conversation and turned the cam to them. From Viz's new angle, they figured this wasn't something to be missed, too.

Weasel poked Chilla with his own bottle. "I'm a bad bitch, ya can't kill me."

Chilla giggled and surged up to kiss Weasel under the chin. “Dumbass. My dumbass.”

“Fuckin cut the PDA!” Spilo complained. “Yer not even married, dumbasses!”

Chilla and Weasel exchanged a glance, a glimmer in their eyes. And before Jerboa could begin his “never have I ever” prompt, they broke out in a slurred, drunken version of the Mandalorian marriage vows. And before the 501st present could even begin to comprehend what just happened, the entire Rat Pack screamed and dogpiled Weasel and Chilla.

Was it celebratory? It looked celebratory, but it also looked like they were trying to smother the newlyweds to death.

Did it count if this was a drunken marriage?

Jesse shrugged. He stopped recording, satisfied with what he got.

Chapter Text

At the same time the Rat Pack and some troopers from Torrent were playing Never Have I Ever, Fives and Echo were setting up a game of sabacc with some others. Alcohol was obviously involved, but they didn't even get a sip before someone burst in.

That someone turned out to be a very tiny trooper, and that very tiny trooper barrelled into Fives, knocking the air out of his lungs and shoving him right into Echo’s side with a yelp. They toppled over one another, the world a blur of chaos and thrashing and growling.

Someone ripped the thing off Fives, and when he finally got his bearings, he focused on Tup and the tiny menace in his arms. It was the cadet that the Rat Pack brought on board with them, his red eyes glaring at Fives fiercely as he thrashed and wiggled in Tup's grip. 

"What's his problem?" Echo snorted. He playfully jabbed Fives in the side. "What did you do to piss off the kid?"

"Nothing!"

"You sure it wasn't the chasing him through the halls thing?"

"Hey, he was asking for that."

"How about biting him?"

"He bit me first!"

"How about—"

"Square the kriff up!" Mouse hollered, effectively shutting both Fives and Echo up. The kid stopped struggling against Tup, instead settling for eyeing Fives with an impressively fierce pout.

"Square up?" Fives echoed at the same time Tup muttered, "Who the kriff taught you how to curse?"

Mouse puffed his chest in an impressive imitation of a fully-trained trooper. It would have worked if he wasn’t dangling from Tup’s arms. "You an' me, let's go! I'll show you who's feral!"

Fives stared at the kid, part amusement and part surprise. Feral? Him? Sure, he was spontaneous and tended to go off plan, but that was improvisation. But if this kid was itching for a fight, who was he to deny him?

“Alright, kid,” Fives said, ignoring Kix and Echo sputtering behind him. “But I think your friends’ll kill me if I hurt a hair on your head.” Fives was no fool, despite his reputation. He could see the way the Rat Pack watched the 501st—just waiting for someone to fuck up. Especially Raccoon.

Either they were intensely overprotective of one another (possible), or they kept a watchful eye for shenanigan opportunities (also possible). Whatever the case, he wasn’t actually fighting the kid.

Instead, Fives rejoined the circle, where Kix and Coric were waiting along with Echo. At Fives’s beckon, Tup brought the kid over and sat him next to himself and Fives. Mouse, who was still bristling and pouting, looked just a touch away from exploding.

“You ever played sabacc?” Fives asked while Coric dealt them all in. Mouse snatched up his cards and nodded, still glaring and still pouting. He probably thought he looked very intimidating.

Fives just patted his head, snatching his hand back just in time to avoid getting bitten.

~.~.~

The kid was staring at Tup’s cards—blatantly staring. Whoever taught him clearly hadn’t bothered teaching him how to cheat. Since he was so caught up with staring Tup and his cards down, Fives took that opportunity to take a quick peek at Mouse’s hand. A quick sleight of hand and a quick signal to Echo, and Mouse was none the wiser.

The kid ended up bombing out, much to his shock. Kix ended up winning that round.

“Again!” Mouse demanded.

~.~.~

Mouse was sitting between Echo and Coric now. With the logic only a kid could have, he was convinced that Tup was bad luck. This time, he was fully focused on his cards and snapped—figuratively and with his mouth—at anyone who even looked at him. Unfortunately, he had the worst sabacc face. 

He didn't lose by quite so much, but he was still incredibly pissy about it.

~.~.~

At some point between nearly winning and absolutely bombing out, Mouse stopped playing. Either he got bored or he was tired of losing, but now he was scurrying under the table and scrambling up someone's lap. Currently, despite his bad luck claim, Mouse's favorite lap was Tup's.

Eventually, he slipped into Fives’s lap, something Fives wasn’t expecting because the kid had been pretty pissy toward him the entire time. He cast the kid a questioning glance, but when Mouse didn’t meet his eye, Fives shrugged and continued on with the game.

For some reason, Mouse started fidgeting with his hands whenever he was with Fives. Fives thought nothing of it, especially once Mouse scrambled out of his lap and into someone else’s lap and stayed blessedly still and calm, but the fidgeting would always start up again whenever Mouse came back. And he was coming back more and more frequently.

It was when Fives lost again that he realized he may have been sending messages. When they dealt the cards again and Mouse started his lap rotation routine, Fives paid more attention to the kid’s hands.

Kix attack defend.

Fives glanced at Kix. His expression was blank as usual when playing, but knowing what he knew now (assuming Mouse wasn’t tricking him), he could see a secret glimmer in his eyes. Behind the cover of Mouse’s fluffy hair, Fives grinned.

Mouse’s signs were clumsy and relatively unclear—but it was clumsy enough to mask as fidgeting, and the signs were clear enough for Fives to get the gist of his messages. Maybe he was too hard on the kid before; he certainly knew how to cheat when he wanted to.

That round and the rounds after, Fives won with no one being the wiser.

~.~.~

“Think we can keep him?” Fives asked, not even bothered by Mouse clinging to his neck while he carried him off to bed.

Kix snorted, grinning and rolling his eyes. “Not if he’s gonna keep us all awake, he’s not.”

“But he’s so cute,” Tup gushed. He ruffled Mouse’s hair, and Mouse was happy enough to let him. He only halfheartedly nipped at Tup’s hand. “How much trouble could he be, huh?”

“Careful,” Echo teased, “that’s how they getcha!”

They entered the bunkroom to find several members of Torrent and all of the Rat Pack sitting around in a circle, more than half of them drunk off their shebs. Hardcase was the first to see them come in and immediately hollered, “Come on, boys, join the fun!”

They had several boxes of some good alcohol. Fives grinned at Echo, and the whole group ran to join them. Mouse immediately snuggled in Rat’s lap, and Rat, who was red-faced and giggly, immediately gave Mouse a box of juice.

They played Never Have I Ever until the early morning. At some point, Chinchilla and Weasel started snuggling while making out. Vizcacha, who had been recording at some point but had since abandoned the camera, livened up the party with embarrassing stories and tales of their adventures on Coruscant. Rat passed out against Hedge, who took Mouse off his hands and made sure the kid didn’t get in the alcohol.

But eventually, they all crashed. None of them enjoyed the hangovers the next morning, but it was worth it.