literature

A Clone and his Jedi Ch.2

Deviation Actions

Jazzo01

Published: Aug 24, 2015

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Literature Text

Translations of Mando'a will be at the bottom of the page, now on with the fic!

Chapter 2: Who the fek do you think you are?!

Sunny held his ground as he was surrounded by the clones that made up the Outcasts. It was kind of weird to have the same eyes that he saw every day in the mirror now glaring at him from all sides but it wasn't something he hadn't seen before. He folded his arms and narrowed his own eyes, growling darkly as the Lieutenant decided to get into his personal space. Time to sort this out before the tension between Captain and Lieutenant tore the Outcasts apart and rendered them incapable of fighting as a cohesive group.

"What's your issue with me Lieutenant?"

Swipes clenched his fists and for a moment Sunny thought the other clone was about to start something.

"Just who the fek do you think you are?! Coming in here like you're in charge, you know nothing about how things work around here. If it wasn't for the fact that Wardaddy obviously see's something in you I'd shoot you right here, right now! I may just do it anyway."

However instead of carrying out his threat, Swipes just snarled before turning away and leaving.

"Let me know when Wardaddy has our next mission. The sight of a new shiny aruetii is making me want to hurl."

Sunny couldn't help himself, this shabuir was really stomping on his last nerve. Temper snapping he shouted after the retreating Lieutenant, nearly throwing his helmet at the vanishing form of the other clone for good measure.

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? A cin vhetin, that's what I'm only looking to start out with! Give me a chance before you judge me mir'oisk!"

Sunny glared after the angry Lieutenant before turning to the rest of the Outcasts.

"Haar'chak! Okay I only want to know two things. One: what's that di'kut's kriffin' problem? And two: can I at least have some names please, I'm not referring to anyone by those fekking numbers if I can help it."

Another clone stepped forwards, a medic judging by the symbols on his armour. His harsh ghost blue eyes softened ever so slightly as he wrapped an arm around Sunny's shoulders as two more clones came in. Sunny's eyes widened at the face of one of the clones. What had happened to him?! Literally half of his head was one big burn, and that burn progressed down his neck and disappeared under his bodysuit. The medic waved the duo over.

"Inferno, Caboose! Over here you di'kute!"

The two clones approached, the clone who Sunny assumed was Caboose rolling his eyes and almost strutting in his colourful, yet sparkling clean armour. The pauldron wearing clone next to him, who he assumed was Inferno, practically bounced alongside him, a huge grin on the unscarred side of his face. Abruptly 'Caboose' turned to 'Inferno', an irritated look on his face.

"For fek's sake Cab'ika! Stop it with the fekking bouncing! You'll end up tripping and crushing someone again."

Sunny's jaw dropped. So much for his earlier assumption! He mentally slapped himself, just because Caboose seemed to have had half his face burnt off didn't automatically mean he was the clone known as Inferno. Now that the two clones came closer, Sunny could see the flame shaped designs swirling all over Inferno's armour. The clone had also got similar tattoos winding their way up his face and had somehow obtained enough dye and gel to make his hair look like flames, and colour his eyebrows to match. Inferno turned away from the chastised Caboose and raised an eyebrow when his eyes fell on Sunny.

"Wrench, who the fek is this?"

Wrench huh? So that was the previously nameless medic's name. Grinding his teeth, Wrench threw what was clearly a rude hand gesture at Inferno before looking at Sunny.

"Yeah I'm Wrench, the Outcasts only baar'ur. Miss Manners here is Inferno, the grinning di'kut behind him is Caboose. Don't worry too much about him, he's harmless … for the most part. Just don't ever keep him away from Inferno if you can help it."

Ignoring how Inferno puffed up like an insulted rooster, Wrench turned himself and Sunny to face the rest of the Outcasts.

"These are Boom-Time, Blue-Streak, Barricade (a heavily scarred clone wearing droid parts around his neck nodded brusquely), Mando and Beskar, for kriff's sake don't split them up either; Fury, Kal, Target, Sneak, Jackal, Klutz, Fragment, AirRaid and FireFlight, be nice them they're our only pilots; Crosshairs, Mutt, Leo …"

He paused briefly for breath before continuing.

"… Dreamer, Beach, Dusty (had that Trooper ever heard of a shower?! Or armour polish for that matter?), Wetsuit, Soundblast, Sunswipe, Bear, Shark-Tooth, Remix, Quicksilver, Kestrel, Lock and Load (two identical clones waved simultaneously), Rifle, Yamaha, Spectre, Machine, Twitch … and Snowjob. You've already met the Lieutenant: Swipes."

Sunny's eyes were wide as the medic concluded his lengthy introduction. Thank Jango they were all easily identifiable, with a wide variety of armour designs, weapons and tattoos making them all individual. All that is except Lock and Load who were identical down to the last tattoo. He was confused by two things though.

"One, what would happen if Beskar and Mando were split up? And two, where's Wardaddy?"

Several of the Outcasts laughed, although Beskar and Mando looked somewhat worried even as they joined in the shared mirth. Wrench finally took sympathy on the confused Captain.

"Mando took a bad hit to the head, I think it was last year. Anyway, they couldn't take out some of the shrapnel in his head, and the injury the shrapnel caused means that he can only speak Mando'a. He understands other languages just fine, he knows more languages than the rest of the company combined; he just can't speak them. Beskar acts as his translator, they're batch mates anyway."

Finally letting go of Sunny, Wrench punched the other clones shoulder below his pauldron.

"Wardaddy is General Fett. It's his vod name, he is as much our vod as any other clone after all."

Well that made more sense to the confused Captain than a missing clone. Sunny noticed that although all the clones that made up the Outcasts were individual in looks, they all bore the same insignia on their armour. It looked like a paw print of some kind, painted either on a shoulder or on the chest in a bright, eyecatching red and outlined in black to make it stand out even more. He guessed it was the unit's mark and resolved to add the design to his own armour as soon as possible. The fun now over it seemed, most of the Outcasts dispersed, going back to whatever it was they had been doing. However, they still remained in the hangar. Wrench was frowning slightly, not moving from his position, and he tapped a rather battered looking wrench against his leg as he hummed in thought.

"I think I've got everyone …"

Lock and Load looked at each other with identical looks of thought. Grinning, the matching pair of heavy gunners looked back at Wrench.

"Well you got all of us-"

"-But did you remember the Commander?"

The Outcasts had a Commander? Sunny frowned in thought, General Fett hadn't mentioned that …

"COOL! A newbie!"

A large weight slammed into Sunny, knocking him to the ground. He let out a tiny, rather unmanly squeak as the air was squashed out of him.

"Wha?!"

AirRaid lazily rolled over and off the wing of the gunship he had been lounging on and threw an amused look at the duo on the floor as he now leant against the cockpit.

"Hey there Warbrat! We got ourselves an alor'ad now, Wardaddy rescued 'im from that shabla Jetii Windu."

Sunny stared at the grinning tattooed face that was suddenly all he could see. Bright silver eyes stared openly out of a heavily tanned face, angular Dathomirian tattoos shifting as the owner continued to grin. The unknown Zabrak bounced back up and quickly helped Sunny to his feet. He was also wearing Phase 1 armour, although unlike the General who chose to wear a kama, he was wearing a half-pauldron. The armour was a veritable fireworks display of colours with random splashes of different colours covering every inch of the plastoid plating. Sunny raised an eyebrow as the teenage Dathomirian ran a hand through unruly auburn hair. The teenager laughed.

"I'm only half Zabrak."

The Captain blinked in surprise and shock. How had this crazy kid know what he was thinking? The Zabrak - sorry – half-Zabrak smirked and tapped the unusual looking lightsaber hilt at his hip. Oh the joys, another Jedi and judging by the braid hanging down behind the teens ear, a Padawan at that. Sunny despised Padawans, when he had served under generals with Padawan learners he was always getting in trouble for shouting at them to "stop with the kriffin' cryin' and start scrapping those fekkin' clankers!" Hopefully considering how rough and tough General Fett appeared to be, this particular Padawan, as insane as he seemed, would be different.

"Um, and you are … sir?"

The teenage Padawan face palmed.

"Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that. I'm Nikov Kalash, Master Fett's Padawan. Don't call me sir either, its Warbrat okay? Commander Kalash if you absolutely insist on formalities, although Master says formalities are nothing more than a pain in the shebs and a waste of time."

Huh, okay then. Maybe he'd like this Padawan after all, they did share the same opinions on the use of formalities. It could be possible that they'd actually get along. So wrapped up was Sunny in his thoughts that he almost missed the question thrown at him.

"So, why did you end up with us then?"

What? Sunny jumped slightly as another clone, Boom-Time he remembered judging by the soot stained green, white and red armour, broached the subject of his transfer. He scoffed bitterly.

"Insubordination, telling the General to stuff it, sociopathic tendencies, punching my commanding officer and breaking his jaw."

That last point earned Sunny a few awe filled looks. The Captain glowered.

"Don't ask. Ever."

He shrugged uncaringly.

"I don't know what the real reason is, take your pick. What'd you lot get transferred for?"

That opened a right can of worms.

"Well the Lieutenant is a kleptomaniac …"

"… and I can't stop fekkin' swearing …"

"…apparently Jedi don't like having wrenches and other tools thrown at them …"

"…I keep blowing stuff up …"

"Klutz lives up to his name a bit too well …"

"…FireFlight's a bit, well, he's FireFlight …"

"Caboose here is a genuine di'kut …"

Sunny blinked under the onslaught of voices all talking over each other. And these were the men he was supposed to be leading?! They were so dead, they were clanker bait that's for sure. How had these di'kutla droten even survived this long, they were absolutely insane! Sunny had a feeling he would be indulging a lot in tihaar over the next few weeks until he got used to these or'diniise. He was rescued in a way when Dagorlad came back into the hangar, a rather unhappy, almost petulant looking Swipes following. The scar faced General grinned lazily.

"Easy now vode, you're going to scare him off and we just got our next assignment."

Sunny relaxed; finally, something he could do. He looked the tall Jedi in the eye.

"What, when and where Wardaddy?"

I hope you enjoyed the new and improved version of Chapter 2!

Translations:

Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?: Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?

Cin vhetin: Fresh start/clean slate

Mir'oisk: Shit for brains (literal)

Haar'chak!: Damn it!

Di'kut: idiot (singular)

Di'kute: idiots, plural of di'kut (idiot)

Baar'ur: medic