Pops:” hey Crick, can you pick up the cadets for me?”
Crickette: “Can do!”
Pops: “… I didn’t mean literally-“
losing it at this KamSec trooper who got a crotch full of Kaminoan, courtesy of Fives
What do you guys think of this muzzle flash? The clones have blue bolts after all. Do I need to blur it more? Soften the edges? Does it work as is? What do you think?
hello!! hi ceph!!! thank you mutuals discord server for this lovely conversation and new oc i love them more than i know how to articulate
[Fic Book Covers 7/?] sight unseen by smilebackwards
No one—not Rex, not Wolffe, not one captain under Cody’s direct command—will show Cody so much as a grainy holo of his general’s face.
screencaps via x
closeups of a few of the polaroids under the cut
A lil snippet 🙃 enjoy
Alpha stands quietly in the corner of the security room as Colt's troopers lead the traitorous Vod through the durasteel-grey corridors and into the holding cell that would was to be his home for the foreseeable future.
Laughable. Rather, until the Kaminii got their thin claws into his skin and tore him apart.
A Clone that defected. That betrayed the Republic, that sold Republic secrets, that spat at the name of the Republic.
Oh, Alpha can taste the displeasure leaking from their delicate translucent skin.
They were going to tear this Clone apart and figure out what went wrong, and fix the product.
The grey troopers, like the thick walls, throw the traitor into the holding cell. The kid doesn't get up off the floor, but snarls as the dangerously sparkling red ray shield went up between him and freedom.
Scrappy, Alpha gazes as the troopers spit out vod'kyramud and the kid just bares his teeth viciously and spits back mindless slave, even as the flash of pain passes through his expression. What makes him think, Alpha smirks, that he's any less the mindless slave he so curses?
As the Kaminii talk amongst themselves about the time and date they'll steal away the young trooper, down to the depths of Kamino, to the place of horrors that not even Alpha mentions to scare disobedient cadets, Alpha breathes in deeply and sighs. The Vod is slated for decommissioning, he sees the Long-neck type into the console, but Alpha knows that will not happen.
It doesn't happen often, but it happens. When Vode don't just disappear, but disappear.
When the Kaminii leave, Alpha goes in.
Stepping up leisurely, audibly, to the occupied cell, he stands with his stance wide and arms crossed. Judging. He narrows his eyes as he rakes his gaze down the kid, seeing the bruises of a good right hook on his cheek. It looks like Kote's work.
The traitor hasn't let his eyes off him since he stepped forward. Neither of them say a word.
Stubborn, Alpha almost smirks.
"What?" Alpha drawls, speaking first, though the kid shouldn't mistake that for as if he is the one with the control in this conversation, "Something on my face?"
The kid's eyes narrow and his lip curls in a snarl - that seems to be a frequent expression on him.
"...What do you want, Alpha?" He spits, "Come to insult? Don't worry, everyone else has already said every name under the stars."
He has no doubt that that's probably true. Expected. Alpha doesn't beat around the bush.
"Why'd you do it, kid?"
"Kid?!" The trooper stands sharply from his solid bunk in offense, "Kark you, old man-"
"Shut up," Alpha orders, softly and with ice, "Why'd you do it, kid?"
"What?" The Vod takes a 'threatening' step forward. Alpha doesn't even blink. "Betray the Republic? Betray my brothers? You karking unfeeling bastard, blind as the rest of them! Training little flesh droids to become meat shields for an unkind galaxy and a Republic that enslaved us-!"
"What's your designation." Alpha cuts, sharp and quiet, but the order is one that any trooper would feel striking right into their chest.
When he speaks, people listen. His troopers listen.
The scrappy bastard snaps his mouth shut and glares, refusing to answer his CT number with all the forbidden knowledge and fury mustered in his soul.
That's all Alpha needed to know. His gaze narrows and his lip just barely twitches.
He turns around and walks away into the corridors darkening for night cycle, ignoring Slick's shouts from behind.
Fox feels his long range comm vibrate in his desk, below his elbow. He quickly pulls it out and answers it, holding it close to his ear as he continues his datapad work, multitasking with learned ease.
"Yes, 17?" His voice is rough and tired, and he clears his throat.
"When's the last time you slept, Kurs?"
Alpha's consistently smug drawl itches at his tired rage.
"You're not Tarre - you don't get to compliment my astonishing health regime."
"Yeah, well, come back home like that and my twin will tear you a new one anyway."
"What do you want, 17?"
Alpha chuckles darkly.
"Is that how you speak to your beloved ori'vod?" Before Fox can growl back a vicious response, Alpha continues, tone relaxed and yet serious, "Cristophisis, the traitor CT that sold out the campaign to the Seppies."
Fox falls silent, putting down his datapad. He read that report - it was professionally cold, but the officer signing it off did so with betrayed rage. Slated for decommissioning. Got Vode killed. Grave, grave crimes, unforgivable.
Oh, Fox knows all about him.
"...What about him?"
"His name is Slick," Alpha doesn't hold back, "How do you feel about sponsoring him?"
Ok, I’m looking for input from you TCW nerds. I need a name for the Clone Commander of Kamino Security Force. As of yet he remains unidentified in canon. Please message me if you know his name/have a name suggestion/have already written about him/know someone who has/ and would like me to know about it, etc. I will give you credit. Any input is welcome!
@ct-1994 @purgetroopercody @delectablyvaliantmentality @marymunchkiin @leias-left-hair-bun @hrtiu @priortoallthoughts @graaaaceeliz @xdangerouslysoftx @cacodaemonia @countessofbiscuit @kaasknot @phantom-of-the-keurig
“Of course it was Bakugou who brought him home in the end...those two’re really somethin’-”
Fives & AZI-3 hiding from Kamino security
Did I make this unmanned clone commander for the kamino security team a whole design and character… yes. I’m making a larger post later but here’s his sketch 😭
This is Commander Gray/‘Chris’ (inside joke from security team-)
“Look, CT-5294— everything the light touches is our kingdom.”
“Oh my god please just do your job, Kev.”
Commander Fox Week - Day 7: Brothers | Hug
Commander Fox & Commander Charm (OC)
No Warnings Apply
Teen, 1000 words
(also on ao3)
A new garrison is being organized. What had been the responsibility of under-performers from the Coruscant Guard, seven-uppers, and units rotating in for refit is now the zero-fail mission of the Kamino Security Brigade. And Commander Fox gets to deliver the good news.
Kamino could be many places. The snowbanks of Mygeeto. Pasaana, dry as bone. An earthenworks maze like Mimban. Its simulated environment capabilities were most impressive.
But it would never be Coruscant, and that was going to be a real blow to CC-4444.
“As you were,” Fox said, sitting down on his temporary desk to regard this young guardsman in his dress greys.
Poor bastard. He’d be in that drab color for the rest of his life.
A new unit was being organized. Its mission? Defend, safeguard, and monitor the cloning facilities of Kamino.
The Separatist attack two months ago had illuminated the need for a standing force on-planet. Profit margins on clones were too thin for a planetary shield. If anyone got past the fleet at the now-unsecret hyperspace exit—a valuable training ground in its own right—someone needed to have their boots on around here.
Major Melke, still on Kaminoan payroll, still as charming as an eel, was overseeing the project. It was mostly a copy-and-paste job from the shock, point-defense, and policing functions of the Guard.
And six months after leaving, Fox was back in Timira City, to be briefed on this new sister unit to the CG. His staff would retain all the datawork decisions and ultimate command; but for the first time in Guard history, opcon would be handed to a Jedi. One General Shaak Ti. She’d inherited a personal detail of Alpha ARCs, who’d inherited most of the training supervision from the Prime. They’d gotten wiped out. The only one left had requested a transfer and gotten it.
One less poor bastard.
Fox picked up a prepared datapad.
“Commander Cadet Charm,” he said, beginning to recite Charm’s record aloud. Like all clones, he’d been combat ready since seven standard; just hadn’t grown into the armor yet. Two years later, Charm had reached requisite dimensions and had performed to expected regimental command levels. Hadn’t come dead last—he was standing here—but these scores were landing places with Stone’s penal units nowadays.
“Passed ARF quals, got dumped from ARC, had your shock stripes to catch you, and you earned those with aplomb.” A pause for breath. “Survived the Opoko Tsunami of ‘76 and escorted the Prime Minister at—well, look at that, my passing-out parade. If memory serves, that was for saving a scientist?”
Lucky longneck. Fox set the ‘pad aside and crossed his arms. “Why do you think I asked you here, Charm?”
“I can’t begin to speculate, sir.”
Liar. But a humble one. Melke had cut a company from the upcoming command batch for a bonus exercise: opening Kamino’s locked doors and risk-assessing everything behind them. Charm had displayed the most initiative. And made the fewest derogatory comments, when others forgot Umbarans could hear your breath before you breathed it.
“The Guard doesn’t have the casualties to merit the pipeline of talent coming out of Timira,” Fox said, sweetening the pill. Dissembling a little himself. There’d always be room for excellence on Corrie; Fox would make room by shifting squibs back here. “You’ve been tabbed for command of the new Kamino Security unit.”
Charm’s face had remained at attention. It suddenly drooped well into unease. His gaze slid to the window. Then it slid back again, damp like the view. “I … I’d do dock security on Corrie, sir.”
They pumped Timira’s urban ops facilities with a potpourri of pollution and an unholy soundtrack of life on metal. Even the gradated air pressure was adjusted per objective. The marriage of the physical and simulated was almost seamless. Almost. Eventually there was always a door or a drain cover that led to nowhere. A blaster bolt that dissipated into thin air, lost to a backstop that mocked a clear horizon.
Rain, rain, always rain on the other side.
“Major Melke thinks you’re made for something better than checking manifests. This is a brigade-level command,” Fox reminded him.
“It’s Kamino, sir.”
Charm’s tone was plaintive, not shirty. But this wasn’t a negotiation.
“That’s right it’s fucking Kamino. Cradle of the Grand Army. Does that mean nothing to you? You’re a guardsman.” If Fox had a religion, that was its byword.
“I understand you, sir,” said Charm, above a sigh that discipline prohibited him from taking. “It would be an honor.”
To Watch and Ward. The Guard’s official motto. Unofficially, it was observe everything, admire nothing. Fox had found fulfilling that one a bit difficult. Senator Chuchi’s existence begged his admiration, as sweetly as she demanded his dances.
Charm would have to be consoled by something else.
“And an honor is all it ever will be,” Fox began, sternly. “You will be commandant of the fun police. You’ll process troopers that’d rather be shitcanned to a penal than come back here for special processing—it happens, though my staff does their best to make sure it doesn’t. You’ll get guardsmen rotating in because they fucked up, and they’re gonna be as happy as a bag of sick kittens about it. Brought a few platoons with me, in fact, for you to cut your perfect teeth on. The deadbeat SpecOps sergeants will try to pull all kinds of kark and you’ll have to tell them where their privilege ends. In terms of job satisfaction, I’d say commanding the KSB will be up there with rabid-nerf herding and wet-testing synthdroid cunt … and you’ll smell of tatsushi.”
Fox’s breath hadn’t been wasted. It’d blown the welling self-pity straight off Charm’s face. He just blinked and said drily, “Yes, sir.”
“So,” Fox said, willing his own blood pressure down, “on days like that, I’d see yourself over to the nearest nursery wing and pick up a little brother. One of the fresher ones. Round and dewy from the jar. And give him a hug. We don’t have any of them on Corrie.”
Fox held out his hand to the cadet. To another kid who was carrying a ticket in his chest that would never get validated. “Congratulations, Commander Charm.”
. . . . .
Please give a name to the Kamino Security Officer I am begging. I don’t even know him and he barely has anything but I love him
100 Days of Clones 90/100
Honestly the more I think about it, the more I find myself enjoying the idea of Jango being pro-Satine. He's not active about it or anything, but he sees her in the news sometimes and goes "Oh, huh, she's addressing the water table issue. Neat."
Just. There's no real canon on how Jango feels about politics after Galidraan, other than 'the Jedi should suffer.' Maybe he looks back on his experiences and goes "well, I got a lot of people killed for no reason. That sure was a wash."
Maybe he decided Mando politics aren't his circus anymore. Not his problem. She can deal with fixing the ecological disaster their generation inherited. Then she actually does and he’s very “oh. Huh. Would you look at that.”
He doesn’t care that much, but if asked, he vaguely approves of the general shape of what she’s doing.
I just really love the idea that everyone in-universe ASSUMES Jango would hate Satine, but he's neutral-to-positive on her ecological programs and infrastructural developments. His main negativity is about her taste in men. She dated a Jedi. Absolutely tragic.
I think it would be really funny if someone tried to get Jango's negative opinion on Satine for propaganda reasons and he, either legitimately or because he hates Death Watch more, says "I think she's doing good work" and then checks out. That one sentence nearly ends two wars and almost starts a third.
I have no idea how Satine would feel if Jango said something about this publicly. Conflicted, maybe. I want him to show up at her window in the dead of night with advice on how to upgrade her security system since it's not good enough to keep him out. She throws shoes at him.
I'm married to this idea now. Oh my god I need to use this in a fic. Jango's vaguely pro-Satine and it confuses everyone he meets. I need this. I need this comedy in my life. Guys there is literally nothing stopping me from declaring my new headcanon to be that Jango finds Satine to be the most palatable of current Mandalorian politicians.
He's not agreeing with her on everything, but she's managed to keep the main city from blowing up for over fifteen years, which is pretty damn successful without a darksaber to solidify her claim. He's not going to hug her in public of sing her praises, but he'll give her an awkward thumbs up if they run into each other somehow, and he'll say something nice about her environmental policy if someone asks him about his feelings on her. He wants to see if she can throw a punch, but he's not, like, mad about the fact that she doesn't want to? He's not stanning, but he thinks she's doing better than pretty much anyone else at the table at this point.
She fascinates him and he kind of wants to see her succeed because, fuck it, maybe Mandalore and Kalevala deserve the same kinds of farms and forests as Concord Dawn.
(Really the biggest block I'm facing here is whether Jango can manage enough self-awareness to say "maybe I was kind of fucked up by my childhood and I appreciate her trying to make sure that cycle of violence isn't perpetuated.")
(Unfortunately, going by Kamino, Jango is not that self-aware. Alas.)
(Also this is about what I think would be funny, not what I think would be realistic. If you want to argue that Jango would hate Satine for fanon reasons, please take it elsewhere. I'm here for 'huh, she's neat' and that's where I'm staying.)
New blorbo to rattle around in my head!!
Thank you @jaigeye you are so right we need more Kamino Security OC’s