"Cyar'ika"

The Unknown

What if instead of Tiplee and Tiplar accompanying Anakin in "The Unknown" episode, Obi-Wan did? And what if instead of Fives and Tup, it's Cody and Rex?

Whumptober #28

Part 18 of Whumptober 2022

Re-Write Snippet (A New Brother)

“There’s gotta be something I can call you other than CT-7567. That’s a bit of a mouthful.” No response. “How about… just 67? I mean, technically it’s not a name, it’s a part of your designation. Nothing in the regs that says we have to use our full designations at all times. How’s it sound?” Still nothing. “67 it is.”

The Truth Lies (In An Unmarked Grave)

On some days, Rex is certain the grief is going to kill him. There's only so much a person can take, and he reached that limit long ago-- reached it, then vaulted straight past it. Echo is alive, and that's fantastic, but... Fives isn't, and he's only the most recent on the long list of people Rex has failed to save. On some days, Rex is convinced that he's just walking wounded, that it's only a matter of time before his injuries catch up to him and put him in the ground.

That's... not what happens. Instead, Rex wakes up with Fives, and General Skywalker years in the past, back before Fives' death, before the Citadel, with their memories of the future intact. Instead, Rex finds himself caught between a rock and a hard place as he tries to save his family, with the constant threat of the Chancellor hanging over his shoulder.

(Ao3 Link)

Chapter 1

After working with The Bad Batch– after finding Echo and losing him again, after punching Crosshair and forcing himself to work with him anyway– Rex finds himself sitting on a log, staring at the bonfire in front of him.

The roaring fire illuminates the darkness of the night sky, and Rex can feel the heat from it on his face, warming up his knees. Despite that, his fingers feel cold around his beer bottle as he stares down the flames, a shade short of tipsy, not quite tipsy enough.

[[MORE]]

He feels… almost isolated, with the way the sky stretches out above him, vast and endless, twinkling stars bright against the darkness of the night. But he’s not alone– far from it, in fact– Jesse’s sitting on his right, and Kix is on Jesse’s right, and Ridge on Kix’s right, and Sterling on Ridge’s right, which brings him all around to being on Rex’s left.

They’re a lively bunch. It’s not quiet around the campfire– far from it, in fact. If Rex felt a little less detached, he knows he’d be right there with them, laughing and joking. But the events of the last few days, months, years, weigh on him, and it’s easier to let himself be mesmerized by the crackling flames than putting in the effort to be engrossed in conversation.

Jesse, however, is not one to be upstaged by a firepit. He leans forward, grins, waves his hand in front of Rex’s face. “Hey Cap,” he says, ignoring Kix’s facepalm. “How do you know if there’s a member of the Bad Batch at your party?”

Rex sighs, looks up at the sky. Prays for some sort of divine intervention.

No divine intervention arrives. Rex sighs, loudly. “How, Jesse?” he asks, half certain he already knows the answer.

“”They’ll tell you,” Jesse replies, and despite the fact that Rex had been expecting that exact answer, he still finds himself snorting at the accuracy of it. “Hey, how would the Bad Batch kill a space snake?”

Rex sighs again, louder this time. He definitely knows where this one is going. “How?”

“They make contact with it, ignore all Judicial Department directives and build a rapport with the snake, train it to kill other snakes, then return to Kamino to file a requisition of GAR resources form and take in the snake.”

Rex… shouldn’t ask. They’re all feeling weird after their last mission, every single Forcedamned clone is a raw nerve at the moment. He really shouldn’t ask.

Kriff it. He might as well ask. “Is the snake in this metaphor meant to be Echo?”

“Of course not sir, Echo was– is about as sneaky as a reg manual to the face.”

“Big words coming from you,” Kix chimes in, taking advantage of Jesse’s temporary distraction to steal his beer and finish it off.

“Kix, I’ll let you know that I’m an ARC trooper, actually,” Jesse defends. “I absolutely know how to be sneaky.”

“Well, since you’re a high and mighty ARC trooper, I guess that means that you’d just kill our metaphorical space snake by accident, and it would turn out that this metaphorical snake was sacred to the people there, and the natborns would then demand the removal of Republic forces from the planet.”

Rex chokes on his beer, coughs as Jesse sputters. Kriffing hell, someone decided to go for the throat today. “Oh, kark off,” is what Jesse eventually says in response, and Kix shrugs, looking all too smug with Jesse’s bottle in his hand.

After he finishes restoring the air to his lungs, Rex finds himself looking down at his hands, letting the conversation fade to a dull roar in the background. He looks down at his right hand, forms a fist with it, frowns. Unrolls his fingers one by one, flexes them once, then twice, then three times. The memory of punching Crosshair is all too present in his mind, as is the memory of liking it. Of wanting to do it again.

For all that he knows that he was made for killing, Rex has never thought of himself as an inherently violent person. But right now, there’s a part of him saying otherwise, a part of him that’s determinedly whispering what might even be the truth in the back of his mind.

He’s realized recently that he’s changing. And it’s because of the war, yes, but it’s also because of other things, and that… worries him. Scares him, almost, though he’ll never admit it out loud. Rex is a clone. He’s not made for change– the opposite, really. He’s been designed not to evolve past his programming.

But Crosshair had said that they should’ve left Echo behind, and Rex had seen red. For a second, all he’d been able to think about was Fives’ anguish at the Citadel, Fives’ grief in the aftermath, Fives’ rapidly cooling body in his arms, and–

Yeah, Rex had punched him. The shabuir had deserved it– deserved worse, an insidious voice inside him whispers.

(Rex at the beginning of the war never would’ve done that. Rex doesn’t know if his past self would even recognize the man he’s become now.)

Anyway, General Skywalker may not have liked that punch, but Kix and Jesse were on his side, and that was good enough for Rex. It had to be.

He glances down at his fist once more, sighs, and picks up his beer again, finishing it off. He probably should get started on those reports and finish filling out Echo’s transfer forms, so Rex opens his mouth to excuse himself when General Skywalker comes out of his tent, holding something strange and triangular, something that’s glowing red, and suddenly–

The world tips sideways.

Dimly, Rex hears alarmed shouts of his own name, feels the beer bottle slip from his hands, but all he can focus on is the nauseating roil of his own stomach, and the way that General Skywalker seems to have lost his balance too, and is clinging to a tree for support. Rex blinks, tries to focus, tries to marshal his thoughts into something coherent, then–

Nothing.

Buzzcut -

Among the clone cadets, all the blondies have the same haircut.

In a collective of identical individuals who value their individuality as much as is feasibly possible, here's why -

When Boba is four years old, he doesn't quite understand why the clones are different from him. He knows they are, though. So he looks to the trainers to imitate how to behave, and he treats them kind of like toys. It's fun enough, for a kid with no one else to play with.

And one day he drags his newest playmate back to his rooms to show his father - "Look, he doesn't look right! Look at his hair! Isn't it funny?"

CT -7567 is a cadet who looks the same age as Boba, who has cowlick blonde curls over atop his tan face and his bright brown eyes and he stares up at Jango with wide, wide eyes as Jango stoops to look at him, swatting Boba's hand where it's dragging on the clones arm.

Jango remembers, for the first time in a long time, that his sister had hair like that. That she looked like that - round cheeked and brown eyed and bright haired.

He pats the boy on the head, ruffling his fingers through his locks, a little thinner than Boba's own thick brown. Than Jango's own.

The boy stands very still till Jango's had enough of running his fingers through the strands and stands back up, sending him on his way and ruffling Boba's hair when he pouts about it.

Jango decides not to think about it, after.

Four days later he enters the mess looking for that blonde hair, looking for any blonde hair, and he doesn't find it.

He does find CT-7567, half-hidden in the shadow of a template-perfect CC cadet who dares to fully turn around and face him when Jango focuses on his smaller companion.

That blond hair has been sheared practically down to the skin, those bright brown eyes big and wary of him.

CT-7567 doesn't remind him anymore of his sister.

Right, Jango thinks derisively. What was he thinking? It was nothing more than a defect in the process. the boy was nothing more than a product.

He leaves.

No blonde cadet ever grows their hair out, after that. Even back then the boys all knew - it was never a good thing to garner Jango Fett's attention.

Even after Prime dies, the tradition remains, one batch warning the next behind them to keep the blonde hidden.

Little Brother

Part Five of Te Ori Bal Te Kih

CC-2224 had grown used to seeing the aftermath of a trainer’s abuse, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still piss him off.

To say he was pissed when his batch come across the CT outside the training room was an understatement. He’d thought it would lessen up after Andin and the other trainers Fox scared off left but apparently not quite. 

“What’s your name vod’ika?” He asked as he knelt down in front of the young cadet.

The boy looked up fearfully at the sound of his voice. Besides the fact that he was blond and beat up, there didn’t appear to be anything else wrong with him. 

“Easy, we aren’t going to hurt you,” CC-5052 told him. 

The young clone’s eyes darted to each of the CCs nervously. He hunched his shoulders in to make himself seem smaller. 

“My designation is CT-7567.” He responded quietly.

“Look kid, what are you doing over here?” Wolffe asked. “These rooms are restricted to most of the clones.”

7567 looked up at Wolffe.

“I was training here.”

The CC batch looked at each other.

“You’re modified?” Wolffe asked skeptically. “You’re a CT though.”

7567 narrowed his eyes challengingly at Wolffe.

“Yeah and what of it?”

2224 shot his brother a glare.

“Nothing, we just didn’t know there were modified CT batches that’s all.” 

7567 slumped back a bit. 

“We weren’t intentionally modified. They think some of your tube juice leaked into ours.” The blond buried his chin into his knees. “Only me and another cadet in my batch can grow.” 

-

I'm thinking of posting this story to AO3 soon in it's full and continuous format!

CC-2224 -> Cody; CC-5052 -> Bly; CT-7567 -> Rex

Mando'a: vod'ika - little sibling

so i've given glinda anxiety. i've given her adhd. i've given her autism. all of those kinda make sense. next thing I've got in my personal arsenal to project onto her is pots tho. so. um.

a glinda that faints into elphies arms all the time?? idek

Found a thing I wrote a while back with the concept of Cody taking Waxer's spot on umbara...... should I post it on here 👀

September 1st… Rex

Hey, look’s who got a tumblr. Me! I hope you enjoy these little drabbles. I worked hard on these. 

Word Count: 300

Characters: Rex, Anakin Skywalker

Enjoy!!

Rex hated having Jango as his template. One word. Curls. He hated them. That’s why he always buzzed his head as short as he could get it. He hated his curls. 

Keep reading

Error 404 for Rex!

Thanks for the prompt! Hope this is satisfactory! (Also @razena88 since this was another one you mentioned in your reblog!)

Error 404: character refuses to admit they’re sick

Although he was loathe to admit it, the Blue Shadow Virus had taken quite the toll on Rex’s immune system. That meant that it was much easier for him to get sick than it was for other clones who hadn’t caught that virus. Thus, he had become quite the expert in hiding the fact that he was sick.

It wasn’t that he got sick very often, mind you. Anytime he felt hot and cold at once or had a headache that felt like it was caused by something more than lack of sleep or dehydration, Rex could take care of it on his own. He didn’t count that as “sick,” seeing as it normally went away within a rotation of it happening. He could function through that. However, what he was experiencing right now seemed to be a little bit more than just a headache and a fever, considering it felt like his stomach was continually doing flips inside of him. It was like he was seasick, like how little cadets often felt seasick on Kamino before they got used to the way the buildings gently rocked with the rough seas below. Regardless, Rex chalked it up to needing some more food and water and went about his day.

“Captain! You’re looking a little green. Are you doing alright?” The question came up practically out of nowhere (for Rex that is). Had he been paying more attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed Fives slinking up to him in the mess hall. Rex had been too focused on finishing his meal without throwing it all back up for him to notice.

He did not jump at Fives’ sudden appearance at his side. He did not. Rex glowered down at the ARC and rolled his eyes, “Of course I’m fine, Fives. Just a little hungry.”

“Are you sure, because it looks to me like you’re having trouble finishing your meal. Are you sick?” Fives asked.

“No, Fives, of course I’m not sick. We clones are engineered to stay healthy, you know,” Rex replied, shaking his head at him.

“Okay. Fine. Then finish your meal right now while I sit with you,” Fives said, crossing his arms across his chest and holding his chin up, “If you’re truly as hungry as you say, then you won’t have a problem doing that, right?”

Oh, that stubborn kriffer. Fives had learned to be that stubborn from somewhere, however, and two could play at that game, “Fine, Fives. Not a problem.”

Rex turned to his meal and regarded it carefully. Force, just looking at it made him more nauseous, somehow. His stomach continued doing flips and he felt a mixture of hot/cold— no, he could not have a fever on top of nausea. That simply wouldn’t do. Then he’d be sick, and Captain Rex of the 501st Battalion could not be sidelined by something as simple as a little virus.

“I’m waiting, Rex,” Fives said, looking at Rex expectantly.

“You’ll call me ‘captain,’ or ‘sir,’ Fives, remember?” Rex said to the bratty trooper. Fives rolled his eyes at him— such insubordination! Rex wouldn’t have it any other way.

The blond clone picked up his ration bar and forced himself to take a bite, ignoring the way it caused his stomach to protest. Then he took another, and another, until he’d finally finished the entire bar. The nausea was ten times worse than it had been to start off with, but at least he’d eaten.

“I have to say, Captain, I didn’t think you’d manage it,” Fives said, sounding impressed.

Rex opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, ‘Of course I managed it, what do you take me for?’ but his stomach practically screamed at him. He jumped out of his seat and made it to the nearest trash bin just in time to throw up all of the food he’d just eaten. He felt a steady hand on his back, warm and reassuring, and he allowed himself to relax ever so slightly.

“You must’ve picked up some virus from the last planet we were on, Captain,” said Fives from his side.

“‘M not… sick,” Rex managed between gasps for air. It felt like was finished vomiting for now, and he had to admit that his stomach hurt a lot less than it did beforehand.

“Sure, Rex, you’re not sick,” Fives agreed, “Just indisposed of, right?”

“No,” Rex said, forcing himself into a standing position from where he had been hunched over the bin, “I’m fine.”

“Sir, I just watched you throw up a meal, which I had, very painfully, watched you force down even though you knew it would make you feel worse. C’mon, I’m taking you to Kix,” Fives said, holding an arm out for Rex to lean on.

Rex huffed and pushed him aside, intent on continuing with his duties for the day, but he didn’t make it more than a step before his knees buckled from underneath him. Fives caught him easily, placing a hand on his forehead as he did so.

“Force, Rex, I can even feel you’re burning up through my gloves,” The ARC trooper said, repressing a sigh, “We’re going to the medbay.” Rex had no choice but to go with him.

When they were about halfway there, Rex managed a pitiful sigh and looked up at Fives forlornly.

“Fives,” he said in a small voice, “I think I might be sick.”

Fives smiled down at him kindly, “I know, Rex, but you’ll be better in no time.”

As he was ushered onto a bed and fretted over by Kix, Rex instinctively knew that Fives was right.

Reconditioned Rex? That one sounds really interesting, how can I find the first part of it?

I'm sorry anon, there's no first part, I got my wires scrambled and confused the au 😭 I got a drawing (i think you can find it in the tag below, in on mobile, sorry :c), but lemme explain the basics of it >:)c

Basically, Rex is the one who shots Krell at Umbara, and he's sent to reconditioning. Because a logistics issue, they are accidentally sent to the 501st. Ofc, nobody assumes that's Rex, they just think this new blond kid is just a coincidence.

However, as time goes by, Torrent connect the dots and realize that this shiny used to be Rex!! The story the follows the five stages of grief, from denial (Rex has died) to acceptation (this shiny, Temple, is NOT Rex, but they wouldn't exist without his absence)