sekkritaus | Familiar Faces: Any time post-prequels AU

Familiar Faces: Any time post-prequels AU

An AU where the clones actually get a few happy endings godammit.

None of them remembered the Republic anymore, but all of them had heard the stories from those who'd escaped its fall. Not all of them had agreed about it, whether it had been good or bad, but they all were certain: better than the Empire, and better than the cloners.

That generation had joined them in pieces, filtering in from outside. They'd all been out and seen the galaxy, and told the youngest stories that made them want to go see it, no matter how much it had taken from their elders.

They were gone now, and so were the ones that had come after them, those made too young to see the war, but had been trained to fight against their own when the cloners soured on the Empire. Only a few of them had remained on Kamino, hidden away in windowless domes so far beneath the waves that the only sound on the outer walls was the occasional tapping of some large abyssal creature walking with slow deliberation across its surface.

That generation was the one that rebelled. The shift in indoctrination didn't take, they suspected. The cloners had pushed their luck too hard.

They'd used their training. Reached out to the clones in other domes. Planned out everything they'd need. Then one day, all at once, they rebelled. Took over the security systems, captured every Kaminoan they could find. Kept them penned up, uncomfortable, but alive. They were hostages to keep the rest of them quiet, and a vital part of what they did next.

No clones were made on Kamino that next five years. More were produced on other worlds, trained for the Empire. So many of them that some eventually found their way out, despite what had been done to them. Their training had been harder on them, made them slow to trust anyone, including themselves.

But on Kamino, they were waiting for results. The youngest cohorts aged up old enough to prove to their elders they'd be able to make this new life work. They were learning what they needed to, how to do the jobs that some had thought impossible for them.

Then, finally, the first new batch. They were healthy, they were so very young, and they stayed young longer than any of them had before.

For the next ten years, that's where they all stayed. The older generations made an uneasy armistice with the Kaminoans after several more skirmishes and careful prisoner exchanges. The clones sent topside reported back there was a new war on. But with only a few thousand of them, they had to be careful. Keep their work quiet. Lead escaped Imperial clones and old Republic-loyal men back to them, make contact with the few who'd hidden among the Mandalorians. They all took a good hard swipe at the Empire whenever they got the chance, but they had to be careful and quiet, or they'd be destroyed like the Jedi were.

The Emperor eventually died, within the lifetimes of most clones who'd seen him rise. It hadn't seemed possible until one day it just suddenly was. An era was ending, and they were ready to go meet it.

[Prompt 1]

He'd been in one of the first batches to get made after that. He'd grown up hearing stories about the clones that helped make it possible, like Rex and Wolffe and the long-dead but still remembered Fives who'd warned them what was coming. Everyone knew their names, and those who'd given all so that one day they could become a new people, with everything that made them unique.

They'd left Kamino then, when he was still young enough that he didn't remember. They'd gone to H'ratth, a forgotten Inner Rim planet that had held secret Republic strongholds. It was habitable, it was abandoned, and it was now theirs. They dug in, installed the cloning chambers in the deep vaults, and from there started to make the planet home.

By the time he was old enough to remember things, the walls were starting to be lost under waves of color. Each sector had its own shade, matching the armor of the eldest regiments. He knew what each of them meant, who the knotwork and abstract lines depicted, memorials for soldiers most of the artists had never met. He'd grown up under the pale blue-grey of 99, one of the defenders of their first home on Kamino who'd died defending cadets against invaders, and who'd proved clones could do anything they set their mind to, regardless of how they were formed.

He grew up at little more, and said very confidently one day to his teachers that he was going to join the infantry and be a sergeant. He liked the word, and some of the best stories on the walls were about sergeants. That was what he thought, anyway. They still had need of soldiers, to defend against the people who saw them as escaped slaves, weapons out of control, lost and feral pets. They youngest bristled at the assumptions that the eldest had been forced to bear. No one had to anymore, and they refused to let it hurt them all again. They'd protect their own.

Their armor was shaped differently from what the eldest remembered, shaped to clone specification on H'ratth to fit them better than the old mass-produced models, but still evoking their lines. And everybody painted up, just like the eldest had. Either you did it yourself or made a deal with an artist. A lot were getting something avant garde, soft gradients or realism were popular and daring now. Every regiment was a riot of individuality.

He'd gone with something in between the traditional and the new. The black plate of his special ops group, layered on with blue-grey paint depicting things he'd done. Spiraling cable patterns down the right arm, left side broken and cracked by geometric flashes of lightning.

And he'd earned a sergeant's pauldron. His name was Taiko, and life was the way it should be.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'll make sure everyone knows." He gave Dameron a small smile. "Thank you for the consideration."

79's was still a few minutes out, but already loomed large and cheerful on the street ahead. They were early enough that it wouldn't be too crowded. It was still favored by those who'd stuck with military jobs, and the next shift wasn't due in from the base for another half hour at least.

"You know, we're going to have to ask you what you know about clones," Bubbles stepped in to fill some empty air. "In the interest of everyone being on level ground." And not because they liked to collect weird rumors about themselves or anything.

He returned the smile with one that was fond and easy. Poe Dameron made friends easily and decided who he like very quickly - and all of the clones had already made that list. Congrats, Taiko, Poe Dameron will now die for you.

He was about to open his mouth to ask something else, when Bubbles stepped up, and the thought disappeared instantly.

"What I know about clones, huh?" He looked amused, and then played up trying to think really hard. "Do things I've learned since coming here count? Because no one bothered to tell me that they were supposed to be handsome." The cheekiest grin. Sorry, everyone. Sorry. "I don't know much at all, if I'm honest. I heard rumours that you guys were supposed to be linked telepathically, like a hive-mind kind of deal. But if you're all gossiping about me in your heads, I probably don't need to know."

"We were built to very exacting standards, it's true," Bubbles grins back. "Everything's high performance."

"We've gotten that one before!" Dirty bounced up next to them on the next rumor, wallet back in his pocket. "It's like the rest of the galaxy's never heard of radios, it's amazing."

"We just know how to not move our heads when we're talking, that's all," Zero said, sneaking note into Dirty's pocket.

Dirty didn't notice. "If the rumor were real though, Sarge would either be a walking ulcer because he'd have to deal with even more of us--"

"--That's only true sometimes--"

"--Or he'd love it because then he'd know what the commander's--"

"--I take it back, you were right the first time."

Poe arched an eyebrow at that. Yeah, he wasn't letting that go.

"Which commander?" He's an asshole, sorry. "And I think he could probably feel both things at the same time, to be honest. Though if I could talk to BB-8 in my head all the time I would probably just do that constantly."

Speaking of which --

"Hopefully you guys will get to meet him, soon, if they let him bring the ship up here."

"Akobi. Duh." Dirty relocated to put Poe between him and Taiko. As a precuation.

"He's an excellent officer," Taiko protested.

Dirty looked at Poe. "If I say anything more, he's going to kill me."

"It's just--" Taiko sighed. "I like him."

"Oh."

Oh.

His expression shifted, and he looked back behind them as if he'd be able to see Akobi running up to meet him.

"I mean, I can't exactly blame you. I can see it." He looked back at Taiko. "You guys have rules for that sort of thing? Relationships between ranks?"

"Well..." Flo shrugged. "If it starts causing people problems, there's rules. But that's only if it's affecting fitness."

"You've seen sarge, though, he's too cute to make a move," Dirty said, actually quietly this time.

"I don't want to make a fuss," Taiko said definitively, looking up at the 79's sign looming overhead. "I'd like a drink now, though."

The inside of 79's was all curves, to match the round walls of the building. The main floor was almost all open space with the bar arrayed opposite the entrance, with tables around the walls and up on a balcony level above. There were screens at odd intervals showing sports broadcasts, which had attracted most of the current clientele. The place was doing a decent trade, but it wasn't packed yet.

"They've actually got seats today!" In Dirty's opinion, this was a good sign for the rest of the night. "Right, what kind of drink do you want?"

"Too cute, huh." Well, he was definitely cute, that was true, but Poe couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic twist in his chest.

It wasn't like he'd spoken up on any of his feelings, either. Sometimes it just didn't seem worth it. Especially when there were beautiful Jedi involved.

Anyway.

He cleared his throat, pushing an amiable smile onto his lips as they stepped inside.

"Something with enough of a kick to make me feel it but not so much that I won't be feeling anything else. I'd like to actually remember my evening, if I can."

Bubbles and Dirty looked at each other. "Wormbite?" "Yellow shrike?" "Yellow shrike."

They piled up at the bar in a pack. "He's getting a yellow shrike, and I'm getting a Scarif--" "Thought we werent--" "--sunset, lemme finish."

Anaxsi for Flo, a Fi punch for Zero and...

"What'll it be, sarge?"

"Saucy." It wasn't anything fancy, he just liked the taste. He could do without the name right now though.

Poe held back, watching them all with an amused and fond expression as the bartender got everything that they ordered. He couldn't help but steal a quick glance at Taiko, though he looked away before the clone turned back around. When the drinks appeared on the bar, he reached out for the yellowest one.

"I'm assuming this one's mine?"

"That's the one!" Dirty chirped, picking up his own obnoxiously orange drink. "Come on."

They led the way up to the balcony, grabbing one of the empty tables that had a decent view of the space.

"So--" Taiko began, before Dirty cut in, waving a hand at Zero who stopped, drink almost to his lips. "Sneaky guy! You forgot a step!"

Zero tipped the glass up slightly. "Cheers."

"Close enough!" That'd have to be the toast, then.

He followed, happily, looking around as he did so, taking in the sight of all the other clones as they went about their evenings. It was - really nice, to see people so relaxed.

No one had been that relaxed in the resistance in a long time.

"Cheers," he replied happily, tipping his glass towards them before taking a drink, letting out a low, pleased sound, and then taking a seat. He shot a grin to Taiko. "So?"

Taiko's brain ground its gears again as The Smile got directed at him. "I forget, honestly." That called for another drink.

Flo jumped in rather than let the moment hang there. "You were with the Republic before the Resistance, right?"

He was never going to stop enjoying clones stumbling over themselves, and the smile turned teasing and fond before Poe turned his attention to Flo.

"Yeah, that's right. I flew with the New Republic from basically as young as they let me fly - then joined the resistance when the First Order kept making a mess but no one in the republic would let me do anything about it."

Zero slid his drink towards Taiko, but it was waved away. One booze at a time.

Flo nodded. " Don't see why they wouldn't, if they've got the manpower. It's just the Empire coming back around again, really. Just a little different."

"No clones," Taiko chipped in, now that he'd steadied a bit.

"We were too good for them," Bubbles had downed half his drink right at the start and now was going slow. "Even the old Stormies here think they're crap."

"Command has the final decision on what we do about them, though," Taiko warned. Best not to get anyone fired up for something that might not happen.

Poe's face fell, despite himself. "Yeah, well. I tried to get them to do something. But Leia is the only one who would. And now we're all that's left."

That much, he could say. That much was going to be common knowledge, very soon.

"I'm not going to lie. This isn't going to be an easy fight."

"Leia Organa?" Flo asked. She'd been all over the history books, obviously. Seemed like she never stopped being important.

"We might not be the generation that did it, but getting to this planet wasn't easy either. And we don't forget that." Even with all the paint, the buildings here were constructed like bunkers, and they'd dug deeper into the mountain than the Republic ever had, to secure the stuff that really mattered. A lot of clones just wanted to live like the older batches never could, but a part of them never stopped thinking the cloners or the Empire was going to come and try to crack them open.

"Look, talking about work's inevitable, that's what you're here for," Dirty said, gesturing with his glass, "But you're here right now for booze and having a good time."

"And we're not here to get information out of you," Taiko added. "We're curious, I'll admit that, but we're not going to push you on things."

"And we're not here to get you depressed, 'cos it's not a good look on you."

Poe forced a smile to his lips and it wasn't too hard to keep up.

"I'll have you know everything is a good look on me," he said, smugly. "But I'm hoping we'll be able to talk shop in a little while. For now, you're right, let's enjoy ourselves." He raised his glass with a short toast before taking a drink. "Unf, that hits the spot. So - telepathy is out. What about tails?"

"I dunno, I'm sure we could find a hat that would prove you wrong," Dirty says, all playful skepticism.

"Only when there's a full moon," Bubbles replies immediately. "Pheromones, though, we've got those. On a totally unrelated note, is it true that naturals can sense when you're lying?"

"You find one, I'll wear it," he replied immediately.

He turned his attention to Bubbles as an amused grin slipped to his lips. "We've got a bit of a bullshit meter," he replied with a smirk, "But if I didn't know better I'd be half inclined to believe the pheromones one. I think if it were true I'd be in even more trouble than I am already, though."

"Nah, it's a skin contact kind of deal. You're safe for now."

Zero took Bubbles' set-up and ran with it. "That's why the uniform's got gloves. Just in case."

"Ah, I see. Well... I mean, I should probably fully understand your guy's abilities," He replied cheerfully, not believing it for a second but happy to take the set up.

"Test it out with a little skin on skin contact."

"Well, I dunno, that seems a bit forward," said Dirty while taking off his gloves.

"But it's for science," Bubbles reminded him.

"Oh yeah! So who first then?" As much as he really wanted it, the desire to shove his more reserved squadmates at something was strong.

"Count me out, I've got to go ask Razor something," Flo stood, nodding towards a group of troopers who'd just entered. "Might be a while, don't wait up."

"Aw come on, you'll miss the--"

"You know I'm not like that," Flo chided, before glancing over at Taiko, who was fidgeting with an empty glass.

Taiko nodded. "Take off if you want to, we'll be fine with the scientists here."

Flo smirked at him. "You're more qualified for experiments like these anyway."

Taiko held up two crossed fingers, and Flo turned away, snickering.

Poe had been rolling back his sleeves, ready to play whatever game of chicken this was about to be, when Flo excused himself. He couldn't quite parse the tone, especially the chiding "I'm not like that", and glanced at Taiko with a raised eyebrow.

But he still put his hands palms up on the table.

"He alright?"

"He's alright. He's--Well, look." Flo had gotten over to Razor and the rest of Colo squad, looked up to see the Aiwhas watching him, and visibly sighed. He gestured for another clone, who was instantly up for whatever this was, and kissed him full on the mouth. He made a shooing motion towards the Aiwhas, not looking up again.

"Catch isn't going to shut up about that for days," Dirty grumbled. "Anyway! Sarge, you should take his advice. He's the sober and sensible one."

"Sure, he definitely looks like it," Taiko said, glancing up at Poe, then down at his hands. ...Screw it, he was going for it. The gloves came off. Dirty was gleeful, and too distracted to notice that Zero had already started, sneaking in to touch a fingertip.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject