Chapter Text
“I really hate clones.”
Rampart had whined and whined until he could do so no more. Having been slapped back by the Bad Batch in the most harsh ways, Rampart’s verbal insults countered on every turn.
“Yeah? Well, we hate you. So there. We’re even.”
Wrecker wasn’t holding back either, spitting out insults among the rest of them. Most likely getting the best shots in, if they were counting. Wrecker certainly was.
“How can you say that? I am quite likeable. And I am adorable too. Look at me!”
Rampart could not understand what was going on. Had he really lost his mojo? And for good? Had the prison time really put a dampener on his cool charm after all?
“Nah. Just telling what ya really are - A right big ole pain in the shebs!”
Wrecker chuckled after that sting, but he wasn’t wrong either. Rampart was annoying as hell, ungrateful too. As clearly, his time spent in the labour camp had not done nearly enough at least not in the Batchers opinion.
Rampart pouted. He too was cute! His momma having said as much.
Trying to think of a stinger of a come back but failing miserably in doing so. Why were these clones pestering him? And how come they were winning this battle? Rampart had been an Admiral after all, a Vice Admiral for karks sake! These were mere minions, bred to serve the superior ones like he certainly was.
Vice Admiral Edmond Rampart.
Oh well, he wasn’t that any more. Not an imperial, certainly not an Admiral. Even the uniform they had gotten for him mocked him. Loudly so. A Captain’s uniform!!! But, Rampart just had to say something. Always needing to have the last word.
“Well, so are you! The lot of you!” Rampart pointed at each and every one of them standing there, close by. Always ogling at him. Singling each member of Clone Force 99 out he spat out; “Untrustworthy… disloyal… reckless… meanies!!!”
The clones simply shrugged.
“No man, we’re all super cool. Top notch. The very best of the best of the best!”
“Wrecker’s right. We are superior to you, former Vice Admiral Rampart.”
Crosshair was back on the band wagon again having let Wrecker take centre stage for a while there. With both him and Wrecker having been taunting Rampart ever since they’d gotten Rampart out from the labour camp. After all, paybacks were a bitch and all that. Echo having slung his two credits here and there as well.
“Oh come on! You lot are deserters, outlaws, guns for hire… clones… of the worst caliber!”
Rampart really wasn’t at his best bitch sass at all, the come backs falling him miserably. Guess the prison life had shaved off some of that moxy he used to have along with several kilograms of his weight with the food being what it was back there on the camp.
“Is that all you’ve got, Vice Admiral?”
Crosshair having hissed out the former rank of Rampart’s as he leaned in real close. His face merely a breath away from Rampart’s, short of growling at the man the sniper hung close to his former boss’ face.
Rampart’s demeanour changed ever so slightly. As perhaps despite his superior attitude, he really needed to tone it down. Just a bit. Agitating these fight ready clones really wasn’t a good thing at all. Not if he intended to survive this ordeal as well. Because they would win.
“Perhaps we are deserters, outlaws even. But we too were slaves, prisoners of two regimes. Never having a say in what we wanted…”
Crosshair’s solemn words something of a let off to the Curren mood for sure. But he did not finish his thought though. As this wasn’t that debate. Rather Crosshair needed to remind Rampart of something. Something important the former Vice Admiral insisted in ignoring.
Rampart just stared at the clones. No further words forthcoming.
It wasn’t that Rampart was completely clueless. Of course he knew all about the clones and how they had come to be. But Rampart had never given much thought that they actually felt something about their sordid lives. Never mind what the sniper had just told him. It was a, well, surprise perhaps? An eye opener in a way. And Rampart wasn’t a total asshole. As he felt, something?
“We were the ones who busted your sorry ass out if the prison so better not forget it!”
Hunter joined in the conversation. The Sergeant having been mostly observing the to and fro going on for a while now, seeing as he too needed to put in his sentiment there as well.
Rampart had nothing more to say though, simply staring at the lot of them staring back at him.
“Guess that shut him up.” Wrecker stage whispered to Crosshair and Hunter.
“Well, that would be a first.”
Crosshair’s final remark before taking his seat and starting on servicing his riffle. After all, it would take some time before they reached their target location. The others too leaving Rampart to his own devices for the time being.