Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kix is forlorn as he gazes into the concoction Jesse calls alcohol. It doesn't taste good, but it got the job done.

Jesse is silent as he dips his head back to rest on the bunk behind him, loosely holding his own cup.

Across the room, Fives and Echo are next to each other, within arms reach. Echo’s a little worse off than Fives.

“How many brothers do you think..?” Kix asks no one in particular. It's a question that's been repeated a few times, Kix doesn't even need to finish it.

Their conversation for the past hour has just been cycling between the same four topics: Dogma, ‘11, reconditioning and Kamino.

“How many are in the 501st?” Jesse asks in turn.

“How many of them are struggling..?” Fives mumbles absently.

“..D’ma doesn't like people talking behind his back..” Echo miserably and drunkenly mumbles into Fives’ shoulder. Fives throws his arm over Echo’s shoulders in sympathy.

“What did they do to deserve it..?” Kix asks, almost to himself.

Fives sighs, “There were only ever rumors.. threats by trainers.” Echo hums in agreement. “If a vod saw too much, said too much..”

“..acting up, low test scores, refusing to follow orders..” Echo supplies.

Fives continues, “..they would threaten to silence them. We just thought they meant..” decommissioning.

“There won't ever be a good enough reason.” Jesse growls quietly, taking a drink and grimacing.

“They're too young.. wouldn't Shaak Ti be able to stop it? She stopped decommissioning.” Kix wonders and they all stop short, “Does she know..? Or does she care..”

Fives makes a noise of outrage, “Shaak Ti— she would never—!”

“Shaak Ti cares about the cadets. There's no way she would allow something like that.” Jesse settles. 

“We have t’ tell Rex, then he can contact the Jedi.” Echo makes a noise of aborted panic at Kix’ firm statement. “I won't tell him who.. just that it needs to be done.” That calms Echo slightly. “Medic-patient confidentiality.”

“We need t’ stop. Dogma doesn' like bein’ talked about.” Echo slurs.

Fives pats his twins' shoulder, “We’re not—” he hiccups, “We’re not talking badly about him.” Echo doesn't respond directly, instead buries his face in Fives’ shoulder and mumbles something about wanting his vod’ike.

“..’gma was uncomfortable.. Tup w’s mad.. w’s scared when ‘leven said..” Echo becomes less coherent with each passing word.

“Ooookay, tha’s ‘nough for you, ‘yayah.” Fives clumsily pries Echo’s drink out of his hands and sets it out of reach. Echo whines but allows it, choosing instead to just flop on his brother. Fives grunts uncomfortably but doesn't push his twin off.

Dogma is distracted while sparring with Hardcase. It's blatantly obvious by the fourth time Hardcase manages to sweep his legs out from under him and pin him. So his tactic to use sparring to distract himself isn't really working.

Hardcase, with an unusual look of worry on his face, grabs Dogma’s arm and hoists him to his feet. “You okay Dogs..?” His hands hover over Dogma's shoulders like he'll keel over at any moment. A fond feeling warms his chest at his brother's worry.

“Yeah, I— I’m—” Dogma fails to come up with a reason other than debilitating anxiety. 

Separation anxiety from being away from Tup, nevermind that it was his own doing.

Social anxiety because with every passing look Dogma receives all he can think is, ‘They know, they can see right through you. They can see how defective you are.’ 

General anxiety about his closest vode looking at him with looks ranging from disgust to pity. About Jesse and Fives finally having a reason to throw the towel in.

And Hardcase is so fun and nice to Dogma, the last thing he wants to do is scare his ori’vod away by being… creepy, defective, a failed experiment.

Hardcase is safe.

“Dogma.” Hardcase sing-songs teasingly, tearing Dogma out of his spiral. Dogma hums and glares without any heat. “Let's hit the ‘fresher and raid Greasetrap’s stashes.” 

There's no need to hit the refresher since Dogma didn't really put up a worthwhile fight, but he follows Hardcase anyway.

Rex finds them later that day.. night? Either way, the looks Rex gives when he nudges them all awake with his foot is more than disappointing. 

Not that they're sober enough yet to comprehend that. 

Echo sure isn't. He's down for the count until their metabolism kicks their asses into gear.

Fives tries, surging up to salute but immediately stumbles to his knees, causing Kix to snort ugly from where his head lies on Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse’s asleep rather than passed out and Kix is more tired and hungover than anything, a little less depressed than earlier. 

“Not even an attempt to hide it, huh?” Commenting dryly, Rex taps an empty cup with his booted toes, the plastic rattling fills the silence as it tips over.

Kix and Fives share a guilty look.

“What's the occasion?” Rex crosses his arms and stares expectedly. Kix none too gently nudges Jesse awake, he startles and does much the same as Fives. Rex isn’t impressed.

He sighs, “Imagine my surprise when I can’t find my second in charge and when I try to ask his closest brother, I couldn’t find my CMO either.” Kix visibly slumps, sobering up quickly. Everyone in the room shifts, even Echo wakes groggily at the sudden shift in tension. They’re all waiting for the other to speak up but right as Rex is about to scold them again Kix beats him to it.

“We need— I need t’ talk to you about something, Rex.” Kix stands up, ignoring Echo’s suddenly hyper aware gaze boring into him. The others move to stand too, not wanting to have this conversation sitting down.

Rex raises an eyebrow, “Does it have anything to do with Fives and Jesse prying two shinies apart and dragging them to the medbay?” It’s posed as a rhetorical question, he cuts Kix off when he tries to respond. “Because I don’t want to hear it unless it’s an explanation and why I had to hear it through the scuttlebutt.”

“Dogma’s not a shiny anymore.” Echo says but immediately cringes, not meaning to speak aloud against the Captain. “Sorry, sir.”

Rex looks at him dryly, “Excuse me, what I meant was, ‘why did Fives and Jesse have to pry a seasoned trooper off of a shiny?’ Is that better?” Fives snorts but tries to cover it with a cough but fails miserably, Echo shoves him.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Jesse speaks up as the second highest ranking one in the room, he stands up straighter, “I.. didn't report it— The whole thing was a misunderstanding—”

“Then make me understand.” Rex orders sternly, but not unkindly. “I’m not asking for every detail, I just want to know why I wasn’t informed. This isn’t like Dogma, at all.” That last bit was aimed at Echo. It’s well known by now after a year and then some, where Dogma is, Echo or Tup aren't far. 

They all speak at once.

“Sir..” Jesse.

“Dogma doesn’t like being talked about.” Echo repeats quietly but stubbornly.

“Echo.” Fives scolds quietly, nudging Echo with his elbow.

“Sir.. I need to talk to you about—” Kix chokes on his own words. There will be no way to phrase this that Rex won’t immediately assume it’s about Dogma. Not now.

Rex’ gaze softens towards his brother. Kix flounders for words and Jesse sighs, resting a hand on the medic’ shoulder. 

“I’m concerned about some of the men,” Not obvious at all, “about the treatments on Kamino—” 

Rex lets out a strangled scoff, “Kix, I’m well aware of—”

“Reconditioning?” Kix finishes for him, gearing up for an argument. The usually calm CMO straightens fully, past tiredness forgotten in the wake of his brother's health.

Rex stops short, confused. “Recon is a myth, even the CCs say so—”

“Maybe you recognize the term, ‘re-education' more. Because re-educated is reconditioning.” Kix breathes like he's out of breath at the admission. Jesse's hand on his shoulder tightens.

“Shaak Ti stopped decoms.. but we don't think she knows about recons.. sir.” Fives supplies, unusually subdued.

“And you're all getting drunk and telling me this..?” Rex asks, more confused than angry. The same sliver of fear that was evident in Fives earlier shows itself in Rex.

“That's what the fight was about, sir.” Jesse takes reins, “'11 said something to the effect of,” so much for leaving names out, “both Dogma and him being subjected to— to reconditioning.” He resolutely ignores Echo’s glare. It's his duty as 2IC, he won't feel bad about it. Not at all. 

“Dogma had an emotional stress response at '11’s words and reacted instinctively.” Kix inhales, “While ‘11 did sustain a broken nose he doesn't blame Dogma and doesn't want him punished.”

“Punished meaning..”

“Possibly sent back to Kamino for—” another round of re-education, maybe decom, if they're a lost cause.

Rex makes an outraged noise, “No one is getting sent back anywhere.” he visibly calms himself. “The worst they'll get is extra duties, they know that right?” He looks pleadingly at Jesse, then Echo. “Right?” His baby brothers all know he's not tyrannical and would send them away at first sight of misconduct, right?

Fives reads him like a datapad and scoffs, “We all know that, Cap.” he slings an arm around Echo’s shoulders, a touch Echo leans into.

“I think they all know that too.. deep down.. but reassuring words won't erase their experiences and responses to such an invasive,” Echo lets out a quiet whimper at Kix’ words, “traumatic experience that was subjected as a punishment.” Kix recites clinically and detached, unwilling to think he's talking about two of his baby brothers.

Rex looks pained, “I’ll have a word with the General about speaking to General Ti. I’ll talk to Cody and General Kenobi, too.” Everyone in the room seems to collectively sigh, relieved. “Everyone just.. take it easy on those two for now.” 

“And shape up,” his voice took on a sharper tone, “We’re expecting action tomorrow and the last thing I need is my best men hungover, understood?”

Rex didn't need to see any confirmations to know all his men agreed with Rex's request.

Hardcase manages to convince Dogma to eat, even just a little. 

“—And I said, I could grease your trap, baby—” Greasetrap rambles hyperly, but Hardcase pays no mind to him, but rather on Dogma.

Hardcase isn't aware of what exactly happened, but he's heard enough rumors to know something happened. Something that has his lil vod’ika bent outta shape, and he'd be a horrible ori’vod if he doesn't at least try to get him to eat. Even if he just eats one of Greasetrap's sugary abominations.

It speaks volumes that Dogma isn't present enough to be visibly disgusted by another one of Greasetrap's tales.

Surprisingly he twitches as the door opens and more clones enter, Hardcase turns to look— oh, the Dominoes. At least that's something, Dogma hadn't reacted to anything much, until he saw those two.

His vod’ika seems to shrink more and more as the Dominoes get closer and Hardcase is very close to throttling someone just to get some answers.

The twins slinked into seats next to them, Fives close to Dogma, and Echo next to Hardcase, weird. 

Dogma doesn't verbally respond but Hardcase makes a point of shooing Fives away from the sugary treat Dogma is slowly picking apart. 

There's tension in the air and it just irritates Hardcase.

“Okay!” Hardcase starts, admittedly a little louder than intended. “What happened? Everyone's acting weird!”

Maybe that wasn't the best way to go about it but Hardcase was never subtle. All three vode stare at him wide eyed.

“What do you mean?” Fives sputters. Hardcase isn't fooled. 

Hardcase glares and jabs a finger in his direction, “Your lying is osik.” Then turns to Dogma, “Dogma what—”

“Nothing, ‘Case! Nothing happened.” Dogma snaps at him but immediately recoils in regret. Hardcase just stares with disbelief. Dogma doesn't talk to him like that. Ever. Not him.

Dogma gets up and nearly runs out of the mess hall. To avoid them. It hurts Hardcase, just a little.

His looks between the two Dominoes.. Echo looks upset and a little worse for wear and he isn't looking at anyone, Dogma especially. Fives appears irritated and looks a little disappointed at Dogma’s quick exit.

Hardcase's usual facade drops and he speaks hushed to both his brothers, “I don't know what happened or who did what but you need to fix it—”

Fives interrupts, “We’re trying, Hardcase—”

“Then try harder.” Hardcase slams his hands on the table a little harder than he should've as he pushes himself up from the table and takes his leave too. Whatever’s got Dogma upset has to do with those two, Hardcase isn't stupid.

He sees Greasetrap’s confused face as his tale stutters to a stop, completely oblivious to the atmosphere around him.

Dogma spends the next few days skillfully (if you ask him) avoiding his brothers, mainly just sticking to blending in with troopers of the same ranking as himself rather than his superiors. The other Pvts. aren’t as welcoming to Dogma as their older brothers. Being around them is a breath of fresh air… if that fresh air smells like the salty Kamino atmosphere and harassment from his peers.

Watching the veterans from the outside, he observes Torrent attempt to do damage control. The way they handle all the Pvts. are with shiny-gloves. 

The lack of Eleven is also noticeable. To him, at least.

Dogma can feel the Captain's eyes linger on him in the off chance he finds Dogma slinking around, trying to be unnoticed. He swears he can feel the gaze burning the back of his skull, right through his bucket.

He speeds up before the Captain can confront him.. if he really wants to corner Dogma he has the authority to do so, but confusingly never does.

He doesn't hide, he's not scared. Dogma still does his duties (perfectly, thank you very much). He eats when he's scheduled to eat, he showers when he's scheduled to shower. If his superior asks him to jump he’ll ask how high, sir? He snaps to attention when anyone with a semblance of power higher than him comes near— just in case. He can't be insubordinate. Not now. Not ever.

Dogma is a good soldier, even if he has to convince his brothers of it.

No one would ever send a good soldier back to Kamino. He just needs… needs them to see that he’s good. He can be a good soldier.

Dogma hides away while shipside and only speaks when spoken to while planetside. The less his presence, the better. He really only needs to be a good soldier.. not make friends. Not be liked.. But to do his duty.

It makes their missions go smoother, faster. 

No, ‘I don't care what dangerous wildlife is out there, we’re here fighting clankers, trooper.’

Nothing like, ‘What are you, a droid? We have to improvise a plan!’

Or any, ‘Can you shut up for five minutes?!’

Or—Anyway.

Besides… if Dogma was a good soldier, why are his brothers picking up so much slack ever since their scuffle?

He notices, how could he not?

Tup stays close, as he always had. That's not too strange, he’ll admit, Tup has a bleeding heart. Tup attracts friends and brothers. Lately though, he's seemed more agitated— ever since Dogma and Eleven’s fight. It's worrisome. Part of Dogma believes that his act of cowardice finally showed Tup Dogma for who he really is.

He finds himself reluctantly drawing away. It chokes him up, he hates it, but Dogma can't stand seeing that look of disdain on his Twins’ face when he thinks Dogma doesn't see. 

Echo also stations himself near Dogma, but never too close. He hasn't pulled away but Echo's dialogue is now carefully picked. His tone is stilted and that puts Dogma on edge. Teasing and jokes are said and done with hesitation and tense shoulders, with eyes flickering to Dogma before and afterwards. 

At times Dogma acts like he doesn't even hear his brothers, to save them from having to awkwardly interact with him more than required. When they're in the field.. Dogma turns and elects to selectively ignore anything aimed at him that isn't an order.

(He knows they know. 

They know he knows they know.)

Uncomfortably, Fives hovers as well, but this time that can't be attributed to Dogma and Tup always around each other, since his distance from Tup. 

Fives now tries to drag Dogma into conversations. Tup can flow easily in the banter with his brothers.. but when Dogma is brought in, it's like he's trying to swim against the current. If he's not too quiet, he's too talkative— not in the way like Hardcase— the fun talkative. No, his interjections slot in awkwardly after a brother makes a joke or comment. His answers come out harsh and cold when someone asks a question.

Fives jokes with Dogma (or tries to), tries to get him to crack a smile or anything other than a blank face or a scowl. Hell, at this point Fives considers it a win if Dogma’s expression changes at all.

And Jesse. Jesse, when in charge, snaps at Dogma less. If it's because he doesn't speak, or Jesse's trying to be nicer, Dogma doesn't know. It's.. weird. It makes his skin crawl uncontrollably, his body understands his discomfort, but he can't force his brain to.

They started to get along in past months but now while off the ship while strategizing or marching, even camping, Jesse will have something to say to him. Something to ask of him. His opinion or any thoughts. He offers more rations around the fire, another blanket for his bedroll. It's probably the most obvious out of all of them.

Hardcase, caught in the middle of not knowing but assuming, acts the same. Mostly. Dogma will see the little side glances he sends his way when ‘Case thinks he isn't looking. It's the worried kind, Dogma is pretty sure. Not the disturbed onlooker peeking to see the shiny new defective trooper.

Thankfully other troopers don't follow Jesse or Fives’ lead, and leave Dogma to his mounting anxiety with the exception of Hardcase.

His fight with Eleven happened almost a week ago and he's still waiting for the other boot to drop. 

Every day since has just been a buildup of anxiety, leaving Dogma more jumpy than usual. Echo would be his safe option.. would've been before everything but now Echo can't even look at him without suffocating pity. And by the gods does Dogma hate pity. He's not a stray tooka with no home, he's a hardened trooper with scars and aches, with dents and chips in his armor.

And Echo lied. He said he would be there for him. He would listen, but Dogma can't even breach the topic of what happened to him all those cycles ago without choking on his words.

Dogma cried and begged his ori’vod not to leave him. 

Echo promised to be there for him! To stay! To listen!

Did he? Dogma’s traitorous mind supplies, Did he really promise? Or did you want him to promise?

He can't even look his older brother in the eyes without Echo cringing and looking down, avoiding eye contact with an upset face. 

He's pretty sure Eleven isn't getting this same treatment, or if he is, Dogma doesn't see it.

He wants to be a good soldier but the common issue is obvious, and he intends to rectify it.

Rex rubs his tired eyes at the stack of flimsi in front of him. What he wouldn't do to have a CC here to handle the flimsiwork, why does he have to be the highest ranking clone around?

His eyes feel gritty with tiredness, he rubs them to see the datapad clearer. When he blinks and reads, then blinks twice and re-reads the form a pit grows in his stomach. Where the hell did he even find this? This is not the outcome he had in mind when he wanted his men— his brothers to get along.

Rex sighs and rubs his eyes again, pulling out his comm before getting up with the datapad in hand and exiting his room. 

Anxiety buzzes fiercely in Dogma's chest. When the Captain entered the barracks looking for him with a grim expression plastered on his face, Dogma felt his chest tighten. Oh. Now the Captain has decided to corner him.

They made eye contact and he immediately knew he had made a mistake.

When will he stop making those?

Captain Rex didn't speak until they were in the hallway, only gesturing to him to follow. Allowing Dogma some privacy among their brothers.

Dogma can't speak, no matter how hard he tries his voice won't cooperate.

“Dogma, I need you to remember that I’m your brother. Your ori’vod.” The Captain pauses his walking to look Dogma in the eye. “You're my vod’ika and there's nothing wrong with you.” Dogma trembles at the lie. “There's no way I or any of our other brothers would send you back to Kamino.” 

Captain Rex's hand lays heavy on Dogma's shoulder, and he remains silent.

“There's no protocol, form, file, no regulation that can or will change that.”

Dogma can't find the words and only manages a head shake. Some soldier he is. Patience is reflected in the Captain's eyes, something Dogma feels is misplaced, undeserved. His disbelief must show on his face, causing the Cap— his ori’vod to pull him into a tight hug. He trembles.

“They're— afraid of me.” He stutters out, muffled by the embrace.

Already he feels Rex shaking his head, “They're afraid for you, vod’ika. They're worried about you, and about ‘11.” Dogma stiffens at the mention. “This isn't something any of us were trained to handle on Kamino.”

“I-I don't need to be handled, s-sir, I just want them to treat me like before.” He confesses weakly. “I’m just a clone trooper, no different—”

“You're more than just a clone trooper, Dogma, and I can have at least four brothers back me up on that fact.” The Captain's words are firm, they're comforting as well.

When Dogma pulls out of the embrace he's a little less embarrassed. Rex looks tired.

“If—if you don't want to be here anymore..” Rex sounds uncharacteristically uncertain, wrongfooted. It's not a good feeling for Dogma. “If you don't want to be part of Torrent, or the Five Oh First, I can talk to Commander Cody and General Skywalker about a transfer,” Dogma swallowed nervously, “but no one is getting transferred to Kamino.” 

Rex waves around his datapad, the one with the very Kamino transfer form that Dogma filled out himself just hours earlier, only needing his Captain's approval in the form of a small signature. 

Something that should be muscle memory by now for the Captain, something so insignificant that he should've signed without a second thought.

“I— I love the Five Oh First, sir— ori’vod.” Dogma reaffirms, then quieter, “I don't want to leave.” One of the many roots to Dogma’s many problems. Of course he doesn't want to do certain things, but he has to. What good soldier wouldn't? Cut the limb off so the infection doesn't grow.

Rex gives him a small smile. “I love having you here, vod’ika.” Rex sighs, “We’re meeting up with the 212th tomorrow once we drop out of hyperspace,” he says almost idly, “I want you to get a good night's sleep and the rest we can talk about afterwards.”

The rest. Echo. Tup. Fives. Jesse.

Eleven.

Due to the comforting words from his ori’vod, Dogma feels a little less scared at the thought.

Chapter Text

Eleven knew he messed up. 

He has that much common sense.

Many things have transpired to lead him to this point in his short life, and he can't help but feel as if he caused… if not all, then at least most of them.

At the same time, Eleven didn't know why he messed up.

He had thought that the other clones— his brothers, they're his brothers— had known about Kamino’s re-education procedures. He knew instantly that 692— Dogma and Tup did. Just by the way they carried themselves, by how easy it was to be around Tup.

Dogma shares much the same eccentricities that Eleven himself has due to the procedure. 

It was obvious, Eleven had thought. 

He noticed the signs. Depressive episodes, bouts of dissociating, anxiety.. the list goes on. It felt like Eleven’s normal.. except Dogma was able to act, to speak in ways that Eleven wished he could. Eleven’s not stupid either, he's observed how the other cl— brothers give him, and Dogma, a wide berth. 

He knows he's different, Dogma as well, but he had just thought the others knew too.

It was obvious, wasn't it?

To Tup it must've been, but the others in hindsight were careful— caring around the younger clo— brothers— in a way that showed they weren't too sure how to handle them.

Eleven wasn't expecting D-Dogma to pounce on him, and from the looks of their brothers, they weren't either.

Looking back now.. well, he doesn't understand why it was so secret, but he understands now that Dogma is a reserved cl— brother. One who sticks to himself, aside from Tup, and keeps his problems private. 

The devastated look on Echo’s face tugged something in Eleven’s gut, something uncomfortable and sick. 

He immediately found himself regretting his words, his sad attempt at reaching out. He couldn't even be angry about the broken nose and all the blood, he all but deserved it.

Now Dogma’s carefully crafted image is crumbling and fracturing in real time and it's Eleven's fault. 

He doesn't have time to feel sorry for himself. 

He's too distracted by the intense tension from his superio— brothers. 

The tension that he caused.

He sits as still as possible in the medbay, as if a large creature would pounce and tear him to shreds if he so much as twitched.

The lieutenant’s face is pinched pensively and his words are carefully picked when he speaks to Eleven. It's familiar and foreign at the same time.

Tup quietly simmers next to him, and Eleven fears the stinging words that will undoubtedly erupt from him. Eleven's not entirely sure who will face the brunt of his fury, if Tup’s furious with him or not. He understands why their lieutenant commanded him to stay with Eleven in the medbay rather than Dogma. It was easy to be around Tup, and Tup seemed to.. at least tolerate Eleven. 

Not anymore, surely.

And Eleven is still relatively new.. an unknown variable.

Echo doesn't stop looking heartbroken, an expression that's so easily identifiable on his brother’s face, even for him. He casts glances over to where they know Dogma sits. 

To any other clone being deliberately separated like this wouldn't go over smoothly, but it seems their lieutenant knows Dogma (both of them) are different. A crowd of worried brothers would only make things worse.

He wishes he could go back and smack himself for speaking about re-education.

This is why you were re-educated in the first place. You're not a good brother, you're barely a good soldier.

The unwanted thought chokes him up and a shiver of terror runs up his spine.

Incompetent soldiers go back to Kamino for re-education. For reassignment.

He hears Fives murmuring from across the medbay. Fives’ calm voice twists his gut, even from a distance away. He can't even make out the words he’s speaking to Dogma, but Eleven can't help but feel relief— and a little jealousy at the comforting tone.

They're not mad at Dogma.. but no one's offering him soft words of comfort.

But do you deserve them?

No.

No, you deserve to be reassessed and reassigned. 

When he's free from the medbay he makes himself scarce, something he should've done to begin with. Hiding away when he's unneeded. Slipping in and out of the mess hall for a quick bite to eat. Only appearing in the barracks, at his bunk, during the night cycle long after his brothers have gone to sleep.

Eleven quietly shuts down, he speaks only when spoken to and only with short clipped answers. 

His behavior must not be too different, he doesn't receive any odd stares for it. 

He almost wishes someone noticed.

He knows normal clones think he's creepy.. weird and uncanny.. but he saw Dogma, someone just like— well, not just like him.. but pretty similar. He saw Tup and Dogma and he saw their su—older brothers interact. Call him selfish but he wanted a piece of that, no matter how much it made his skin crawl to be near another person.

Stupid. Bad soldiers don't get those pleasantries. Eleven scolds himself viciously, good soldiers can do without them.

You're not a good soldier.

Bad soldiers get re-educated.

He'd be re-assigned as well, and the cycle will start anew with a different set of brothers, with another commander. Different faces but the same outcome. 

It's almost tempting to request a transfer, just to have a redo.

But— but he can't. If he's already a bad soldier.. and the first bout of re-education didn't work, surely a second one wouldn't. And if a second one doesn't fix him..

Decommission is what is best, Eleven knows he can't be fixed at this point. The thought of getting strapped back down onto a cold, metal gurney to never wake up scares him.

It's funny, he thinks, that he and his brothers were made literally to die in this war and he's not afraid of the battlefield. Alternatively he is afraid of the beings who created them, scared of how his fate ultimately falls into their hands. 

Cold, callous and scientifically curious hands.

No. If he had his way, they would never touch him again.

He can be a good soldier, Eleven knows this.

Good soldiers fight for the cause they

were created for.

Good soldiers die for the cause they were created for.

Eleven is a good soldier.