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xinambercladx · 1 year

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"Figment" Ch1: Credits and Copper

Rating: T Characters: Cad Bane, Darth Sidious, Darth Maul (mentioned). Summary: Cad Bane waits for a Sith Lord's holocall, and a possible job. Little does he know the rabbit hole it will send him down. -------------------------------------------------------------- The promise of fame and fortune often leads to infamy and misfortune.

22 BBY

First year of the Clone Wars.

It was a living night on the cold streets of Coruscant. The central hub of the galaxy creaked from the rust and the rot, greased by blood and sweat of the lower classes to churn the cream of society to the top. And down, down below the underbelly growled from hunger and greed and bloodlust and ambition. The city dwellers who had dreams of leaving never left, and those that did always returned. The hum of neon signs and whistling air speeders was a sick tune of narcissism playing nursery rhymes with hope. The sky of stars was choked out by the air pollution and lights of the city, and those that dared to look up only saw the crushing thousand levels of concrete and durasteel above ever looming.

Cad Bane stared out the window, rolling a toothpick in his mouth. From the darkly lit room he stared out to the neon lit city, the underbelly of Corucant. Speeders zipped by pedestrians. Between him and the next skyscraper was undoubtedly an endless chasm reaching down to the 500 level, only crossable by bridge. He wasn’t in the most depraved levels of the city-wide planet, but not in a nice level either. The Hole was a seedy hotel that rented out an apartment to him whenever he visited the planet. The Hole was a favorite of bounty hunters for its discretion, and was a carefully guarded secret among them for that very reason, as they themselves often bounties on their own heads. The walls were stained, but thankfully free of mold and mildew. He stayed here because amenities were available for cooking if needed, washing if needed, a bed for sleeping, if he could fall asleep at all. There was even a computer with full access to the holonet and holoprojector to boot. The projector had ceased communication with a client with a potential assignment, much to his chagrin. The mysterious client had somehow gotten his direct line of communication some months before and had sent him to kill Jedi, secure bases of operations like Bilbringi Depo once belonging to a Hutt. Killing a Hutt was an offense that would have put an even larger bounty on his head than Bane already had. The client had asked for no evidence left behind, for which he was somewhat thankful for not bringing more heat to himself, but also rued the fact his reputation wouldn’t grow from boasting about it.

“Bilbringi Depot is secured,” Bane said when the job was completed. He brushed off his hat from the short lived skirmish. His battle droids loaded into his ship, theSleight of Hand.

“You have done well, Bounty Hunter. I trust you left no evidence of your work,” the hooded man said, hands oddly hovering in front of him as if ready to grasp the air.

“I never leave a mess unless I’m paid to leave a mess. I’m a professional,” Bane assured, giving the Durosian equivalent to a wink.

The hooded man had seemed pleased, a wry grin curling over not quite perfect, human teeth. “Payment has been transferred to your account. I shall contact you when I next require your services.”

Bane had begun to make clients jump through several hoops little more than ten years ago. A new client, who went by the simple name “Maul”, had hired him to help kidnap a Jedi Padawan from an auction house on Nar Shadaa, another city planet with a less admirable reputation. Bane, Aurra Sing, and their teammate were hired for little more than being patsies, a distraction as this Maul snuck a peek at the asset. They all ended up being hunted by the very auctioneers their were steeling the Padawan from and in the end the job was barely worth saving the Zabrak’s hide, with the Jedi nowhere to be seen. “The Jedi has met her fate,” was all Maul uttered on the matter as they flew away from Nal Hutta’s moon.Dead, Bane assumed. Maul paid Bane’s crew their fees. Bane decided if he had to jump through hoops to get paid, his services were worth more and worth protecting from nonsensical clients. Clients now had to be referred by previous clients. Perhaps more hoops were needed.

Normally Bane didn’t care who the client was as long as he got paid. This hooded client had proven to be a lucrative one, with tasks of particularly tricky goals. He had to admit, they were rather fun. When this Darth Sidious contacted him again as promised Bane couldn’t help but be curious what the job would entail next. Before the hooded man could begin explaining, he said, “Just a moment” and the feed was cut short. Bane scoffed, his curiosity left hanging. A title like Darth meant he was a Sith Lord. The Jedi were obsessed with finding Dooku and his dark partner. Here Bane was simply minding his own business and the Sith had contacted him for help. He wondered what the job was. There was a familiarfeelto this man. It was a lurking sense of danger that got under the skin. Cad Bane lazily walked to the window. He adjusted the wide brimmed hat he was still wearing after returning. He leaned on the sill, staring off into the distance, waiting.

Bane fiddled with the toothpick, cleaning a bit of sinew that had gotten stuck between his fang and side incisor. The nerf kebabs had hit the spot. The meat had been perfectly grilled and drenched in a delicious, peppery sauce. He had gotten it in celebration of job he had completed not six hours ago. The Bengal Barbecue kiosk had opened recently and quickly developed a fan following. There had been a massive line, sometimes trailing around the street corner most days of the week. He had wanted to try it after smelling the sizzling meat stand several times on previous visits, but never had the time to wait in line. The comfortable weight in his stomach sac confirmed it was well worth it. Bane could see the stand across the street. The line was gone as the kiosk closed for the night. The lights flicked off and the Weequay pit master walked home. Bane silently wished the entrepreneur success. He liked the kebabs, and fully intended on giving the Weequay more of his credits.

Soon the pit master was lost in the distance and passing crowds. Bane’s large eyes focused on a new sign above where the pit master disappeared. The display, easily four times the size of a speeder, morphed between greens and blues, switching from trees to ocean. Words scrolled along the bottom, advertising Alderaan and several other vacation planets. It was subtle though. The footage replayed and he watched, wondering why he liked it. The shapes of trees waving in the wind somehow morphed into seaweed, which morphed into waves, which morphed into rolling clouds. The nature scenes starkly contrasted with the constructed buildings around it, so no wonder his red eyes seemed to be transfixed by it. Whoever had edited the footage was gifted. The footage replayed. Water pattered on rooftops, rivers swirled, and waves crashed on black cliffs. Trees stretched across a blue sky. Seaweed waved in shallow pools morphed into fields of grass waving in the wind. A stream of long hair shined in the sun, and there was a smile warmer than the sun could ever…

A dim blue light lit up behind him. The old voice of the hooded man croaked, “Excuse the interruption.” Bane was snapped out the daydream, the voice grating his ears. “As I was saying, Bounty Hunter, I am in need of your services.”

Bane returned to the here and now, the recurring client, potentialjob. “I’mlistenin’,” Bane spoke curtly, half thinking the job better be worth the wait like the kebabs had been. He flicked his toothpick into the corner rubbish bin.

“I need a Jedi… Holocron.”

“To get a Holocron I’ll need to break in to de Jedi Temple. It’s impossible… not to mention,deadly,” Bane explained, not missing a beat. He had considered breaking in before, but had always treated it like a puzzle to solve merely to pass the time between jobs. Over the decades, he had collected various diagrams, pass codes, and other intel some would deem useless about the fortress. Half of it had been simply from researching how to take down Jedi or better defend himself from them. The oldest records he had acquired were from a Jedi artifact collector while undercover for an unrelated heist. The records were over a millennia old, before the pyramid like walls had been erected to protect the inner sanctum. He had never thought a client would be daft enough to hire him for such a venture. Perhaps this silly pass time of his hadn’t been so outlandish after all. It would be a huge risk, but the reward would be-

“Perhaps your reputation has been exaggerated,” Darth Sidious sneered flatly, hitting the bounty hunter’s pride.

Bane leaned on the desk chair and pounced at the jab with a list of demands, “I want a Rogue class starfighter with elite weapons, cloaking device, dewerks.” It was everything he would need for the getaway if things went south. “Oh, and,” he sprinkled the sting of pocketbooks as he slipped into the chair and put his feet up, “triple my usual rate.”

The Sith Lord flicked the jab away as if it were a crumb on his plate, “Your price is of no concern. I will also provide you with the means to getinsidethe temple.” Sidious’ offer was so casual the bounty hunter could only be amused.

Bane smiled with pleasure, “You’ve gotta deal.”

“Excellent,” Darth Sidious replied. “I’ll see the item you requested is manufactured and delivered beforehand. In the meantime, there is a smaller task I have for you. There is a Jedi I need taken care of.”

“Another Jedi and another job? You know my fees, Sith. What more does dis entail?”

“Master Ord Enisence. I need him eliminated. Once he is dead, and the Holocron retrieved, you will need to recover a crystal from Jedi Master Bolla Ropal. The Holocron cannot be unlocked without the crystal he possesses. Collect the information inside the Holocron for me.” Darth Sidious said, then added, “You have proven yourself capable enough so far, bounty hunter. Continue to do so and I shall employ you further.”

“I’m at your service,” replied Bane, giving a mock bow while still seated. “I must admit, I’m enjoying dis tango, but I can’t help but wonder who gave you my contact? It wouldn’t have been your associate, Maul, now would it? You Sith types like your mystery and intrigue, so I can’t un-see the resemblance, with both of you havin’ a penchant for hooded cloaks and messin’ wit Jedi business.”

Darth Sidious didn’t answer immediately, impressed with the bounty hunter’s deduction. “The incident with the Padawan on Nar Shadaa was a necessary lesson for my... former apprentice to learn patience, a quality in which he lacked, unlike yourself.”

“An important virtue, dat one,” Bane said.

“Indeed.”

“Is that all den?”

“It is.” Sidious concluded their business and sent Cad Bane an encrypted file with instructions on where to pick up a data chip. The holoprojector shut off and the room was free of that unsettling feeling under the skin. The feeling was replaced with anticipation, and Cad Bane immediately got up to leave. He was tired, but sleep could wait until after he retrieved the chip. The Sith had complemented his patience compared to Maul, however there was nothing wrong with being proactive. Sidious wasn’t the only one eager to get the ball rolling. Curiosity on several thoughts had finally been sated. Maul had indeed been connected to Darth Sidious. Maul was his “former” apprentice, meaning he was dead, which meant Count Dooku was Maul’s replacement. The Galactic Republic believed Dooku was the mastermind behind the war, but Bane now believed it was the unseen Sidious pulling the strings.

Bane descended down the steps of The Hole, a façade bar and restaurant, in truth. He crossed the street and passed the Bengal Barbecue kiosk. The faint scent of charred meat and charcoal still lingered in the air. He walked for some ways, waking up from the post meal sleepiness. Bane watched as passers by step in puddles ahead of him. A leak spilled from an apartment's air conditioner line. Blue and green lights reflected on the rippled surface. His red eyes were drawn up to the Star Tours vacation advertisement on the large screen overhead. He stopped to admire the morphing landscapes. It truly was a masterful edit. The fields appeared and grass swayed, but something was missing. He watched the ad replay. Again, something was missing.

“You fancy a vacation to Alderaan, Duros? I can take you to the spaceport if you like,” a young voice asked. Cad Bane turned to find a young human taxi driver, bundled up in a fur collared leather jacket. “Nice new ad, though, huh? I wonder how they get the seafoam to turn into clouds like that?”

“Sure it is,” Bane replied. “I like de version with de woman.”

“Woman?”

“Yess. Long locks, smilin’ at you.”

The taxi driver shrugged, “I’d like to see that version! Maybe they’d sell more spots on the Tour with a pretty girl in it. I’ve been staring at this ad for the last hour though. No girl. When did they play that version?”

Bane hesitated. The conversation with Sidious had begun only twenty minutes earlier. He shook his head. “Doen't matter. Take me to dese coordinates. I gotta job to do.”

The night was hustling and so should he. ----------------------- Chapter Links: Next Chapter

#cad bane #star wars #fanfiction #chapter 1 #Figment #cad bane x oc #suspense thriller #bounty hunting stories #with a dash of romance #cad bane is a foodie #darth sidious #weequay bbq #mention of darth maul #bounty hunter #coruscant #The Hole apartment

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jgvfhl · 1 year

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The Number Lads Get A Night Out

Let them have nice things :) The lads deserve some relaxation time and some delicious noodles courtesy of the Noodle Grannies themselves. Please enjoy the shenanigans! Also I'm like. So close to 1000 followers??? Thank you??? 💖✨️

Words: ~6K

Warnings: None! Just happiness

Link to Number Lads Master List.

This list includes the link to the story on Ao3, but I will say that version is about... one chapter behind, but it's catching up.

The Chaos Batch's screen names are as follows:

mayhem_man = Nero

Grim Reaper = Sixes

RedBastard = Thire

beefcara = Bacara

mayhem_man: hello sixes

Grim Reaper: Nero

mayhem_man: I have been informed by one of my ARCs that you are… how did he say it

mayhem_man: “gaslight girlboss gatekeeping” the location of the noodle bar

RedBastard: LSKJDFLKAJDSFLKJSDLKFS WHAT

beefcara: What does that mean??

Grim Reaper: Tell Zero snitches get stitches.

RedBastard: ummmm okay but why are you gaslight girlboss gatekeeping??

beefcara: I would like to repeat my question from earlier. What the kriff does that mean??

mayhem_man: it means sixes has been keeping the noodle bar’s location a secret from all but two of his little number pals, including my ARC Zero.

RedBastard: why?

Grim Reaper: Because I could.

beefcara: girlboss??????????

mayhem_man: which of course is not a good enough reason to deny someone noodles

mayhem_man: I will give you until our next leave to rectify this or I’m bringing Firebolt with me next time we go for noodles

RedBastard: oh gods please not them

Grim Reaper: Why are you so dramatic about this, Nero?

mayhem_man: because i can

Grim Reaper: Understandable, have a horrible day

beefcara: I’m still confused

RedBastard: I’ll explain it when I see you next

-scene break-

The commander had always been cryptic, from the moment Nines had known the man. But this was a new level of enigma. He stared at his comm, reading and re-reading the message in the Numbers group comm from Commander Sixes that had arrived minutes ago when the 212th flagship had come out of hyperspace.

What did it mean?

No one had replied to it yet, probably because Sevenset was busy and no one else knew what to make of it. The entire message read as follows:

DEATH: I know some of you lot are due for leave soon. Go have fun.

DEATH: And Zero: snitch to your commander again, and I’m having words with you.

These messages were followed by an unmistakable series of numbers and punctuation comprising coordinates to somewhere… presumably on Coruscant? Why else would he have mentioned leave, after all.

As it happened, the 212th was on a short leave soon, mostly for resupplying and refitting after their previous missions. Nines would admit, he was curious. He hadn’t looked up the coordinates yet because he’d been busy making sure Ghost Co. was set for arrival out of hyperspace, and he would be busy for some time afterwards as they prepared for transport down to the surface. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have to, considering the Numbers were some of the nosiest troopers he’d ever met, and he lived with Waxer.

So, he reasoned he could just wait long enough and he would find out exactly what the commander had just sent them.

He didn’t have to wait long.

As his and another squad loaded into a transport ship, his comm pinged, so he switched hands holding the handle above him and opened it.

Double Trouble: wait what is that

Double Trouble: holy shit

high fives: where is that?

#1 Boy: oh I know where that is!

Loopy: fascinating

Double Trouble: IT’S THE NOODLES IT’S THAT NOODLE PLACE ELEVNS WAS THERE

d0nut man: FINALLY

DEATH: Zero.

d0nut man: i mean thank you sir

high fives: oh awesome!! Echo wanna go get noodles??

That caught Nines’ attention. Did the 501st have a break too? Maker help the Guard. He shook his head, putting his comm away for the remainder of the flight. At least Do-si-do would finally get his noodle fix and stop complaining about it in the group comm. And, now he considered it, he might join him in that endeavor. Rations were boring, and if he found the place was actually clone-friendly and reasonably priced, he might have to visit.

Turns out, he didn’t have to make that decision, because within a few hours of Commander Sixes gracing the group with the location of this restaurant, the Numbers had figured out who was going to be dirtside, who had a free evening, and Do-si-do had told everyone in those categories to “be there or be square.”

Well. Nines had been wanting to try these noodles. So he made his way over to Little Sriluur on the chosen night, bringing along Wooley, because it was a rare thing for a trooper to wander through nattie neighborhoods by himself. They arrived at the coordinates an hour or so past sunset, and the street was still brightly lit from neon signs and glowing shopfronts.

Nines was still reading his HUD, watching their coordinates as they approached those specified, when Wooley tapped his arm.

“What?”

“Dude, use your eyes, not your scanner,” he said, pointing up.

A lit sign hanging vertically down the side of a building near the end of the walkway read Noodle Bar with a martini glass at the bottom.

“Oh.”

As they got closer, the entrance appeared, an arched doorway with an awning, and a smaller sign above it that read Sun’s Noodle Bar with a picture of a bowl of noodles underneath the words. A steady number of weequay, togruta, and other races filtered in and out of the door.

“Moment of truth?” Nines asked, eyeing the crowds.

“Sure is.”

When they got to the doors, they got a few odd looks from passersby, but nothing short of brief surprise or curiosity. That was understandable. The nearest barracks were whole kliks away. But when they entered, both of them hesitating briefly before finally removing their helmets (it usually made natties feel better), the server at the welcome kiosk just smiled like they were any other customers.

“Are you here with the other troopers?” he asked, perfectly civil.

“Uh… I think so?” Nines answered.

“They’re all upstairs.” He pointed to their left where a staircase began against the wall, disappearing up into a second floor.

Nines and Wooley exchanged glances. “Thank you,” Nines said, trying his best to mask his uncertainty.

As they walked towards the stairs, he glanced around the restaurant’s first floor. The floor plan was basically square, with a round bar at the center with what must be some kind of lift down to the kitchens and up to the second floor. He saw a shadow rise through the column as they walked, supporting the theory. The atmosphere was nice, the walls painted a warm yellow-orange, with dark wooden tables and chairs, deep maroon booth cushions, and intricate geometric designs inlaid into the wooden furnishings. Strings of small lights hung from the ceiling around the walls, over windows, reaching into the center like spokes on a wheel, and rows of them hung over the stairs, illuminating their journey upward.

The second floor was almost like the first, but smaller by about a third. What was a central bar and service station downstairs now stood against one wall to their far right, and a sliding metal door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” stood beside it. Interesting that it would be on the second floor. The walls here were a shade of lavender, if he had to call it anything, but it was warm and welcoming. The furnishings were largely the same as downstairs, as were the strings of lights, but the wall tapestries were different.

Before he had much of a chance to study them, he heard his name called. Looking around, he found Do-si-do waving at him from one of a pair of tables that stood next to each other at one end of the room. He recognized a few others there, as well as a few clones outside of their little group.

“Okay then,” Nines said to Wooley. “Clone-friendly indeed.”

When they got to the table, Do-si-do got up to greet them, which made Nines realize he’d never actually met him in person before.

“Hey, I’m so glad you could make it,” he beamed, offering a hand, then grasping Nines’ forearm enthusiastically when it was given. “Who’d you bring?”

“This is Wooley,” Nines said, turning slightly. “Wooley–”

“I’m Do-si-do,” the pilot cut him off, greeting Wooley in much the same manner Nines had received. “C’mon, have a seat. This place is wizard!”

They took the empty seats at Do-si-do’s table, mainly because he knew the most people there. Fives and Echo smiled and waved at him and Wooley as they sat down across from each other, and Captain Rex nodded from beside Echo. Fours was seated at the other end of the table across from Do-si-do, surprising Nines with his presence at all. This didn’t seem like Fours’ preferred kind of night out. But, it was probably better than a normal bar.

The other table next to theirs was mostly green. He recognized Zero and Commander Nero from the holocall with the other commanders, which had honestly made Cody smile more than he had in weeks at that point, so Nines could excuse the constructed chaos. The other two 118th troopers took a minute. After wracking his brain, he finally realized one of them had a black handprint tattooed over his mouth. Echo’s “Handprint Buddies” then. What were their names? He’d need a reminder. Commander Sixes and Commander Bacara were there as well. Commander Thire must not have been able to take the evening off with his batchmates.

He brought his attention back to his own table when Captain Rex tapped the table with the side of a menu in front of him. “First drink is on the house,” he said.

“Really?” Nines took the menu, glancing around at the others. Echo had something like a Cosmopolitan, the captain had a clear drink steaming in a red ceramic mug, and Fives had a Sunset with some variation on the typical fruit blend.

“Wow.” Wooley’s eyebrows had gone up as he read the menu. “That’s… a lot of margaritas.”

“They are one of our specialties.” A new voice from somewhere behind Nines’ side of the table caught everyone a little off-guard, and Captain Rex had to work not to choke on his own drink. “Those and the sake, which the captain should drink and not inhale.”

Nines twisted around to follow a weequay woman as she rounded their table to stand at its end, dressed in a soft pink layered dress with blue and red accents. She was old, her brown skin wrinkled beyond that of younger weequays, but her grey eyes were warm and bright, and her long braids were decorated with colored ribbons and metal charms.

“Hello, my dears,” she said, putting down a stack of larger menus in the center of the table. “My name is Mira. I am one of the lucky owners of this fine establishment.”

“Hi,” Nines said. “Are you who we have to thank for keeping Elevensies and Ahsoka Tano alive a while back?” He glanced at Fives, who rolled his eyes. He was still a little annoyed about how that whole episode had played out.

“Not me directly, no,” Mira answered. “My wife Saleha took care of that. She’s more… experienced with those things.” Leaving them to wonder what that meant, she looked to him and Wooley. “Can I get you boys some drinks? First one is on the house. Guests of our commanders are always well taken care of. May I know your names?”

Nines glanced up at the other table briefly. Our commanders, was it? Alright then.

Wooley answered first. “I’m Wooley. A jogan margarita sounds amazing,” he said, setting the drink menu down near the edge of the table. “Salt rim, please,” he added before she could ask.

Mira nodded, then turned to Nines. He glanced back over the menu briefly, but he he didn’t really feel like branching out tonight. “Nines. Corellian iced tea for me, thanks.”

She collected their menus. “Those will be right out to you,” she said, and gave a tiny bow before moving on, drifting to the next table over to stand between Commander Nero and Commander Sixes and hand out menus over there.

Do-si-do pounced on the menus, eagerly opening one and starting to scan the pages.

“Someone’s excited,” Wooley remarked, waiting for Fives to pass him one instead.

Echo snorted. “Yeah, well, someone’s been begging Commander Sixes for the name of this place for weeks,” he said, bumping Do-si-do with an elbow.

“And?” the pilot said, his bleached curls bouncing as he looked up sharply. “Have you seen some of these noodle bowls? The dumplings?”

Nines shook his head, his eye once again falling on the empty seat between Fives and Wooley. Fives’ helmet sat on it, and he’d put a protective hand on it when they’d arrived, like he was saving it. “Are we still expecting someone else?” he asked, taking his own menu as it was handed down.

Captain Rex answered. “Ahsoka said she might be able to join us. So… we’ll see.”

He nodded. “That’s nice. I hope she makes it.” No one had heard anything from or about the former Padawan, and he could imagine her brothers were eager to know she was safe.

He opened his menu.

Holy shit.

He kept flipping, and the menu kept going and going. The appetizers seemed endless, and when he'd finally gotten to the end of those, the soup dishes started and went on for a page and a half. Then there was a section for… raw seafood? He'd heard it was a delicacy in many places, but he'd never seen it himself. After that came a section of stir fry and rice dishes, and he honestly had no idea there was so much you could do with rice and vegetables. He glanced up at Wooley as he turned the next page, seeing his own confusion mirrored in his friend's face. After the stir fry came the famous noodle dishes, and he had to admit, they looked magnificent. But he was after dumplings, where were the dumplings?

“Am I allowed to marry food?” Do-si-do asked. “Because I think I want to.”

“Dude, we’re clones, we can’t even marry a person,” Fives replied with a frown.

“No, he has a point,” Echo said, pointing to the menu. “I’d marry this spiced nuna ramen.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet,” his brother said.

Their captain smirked behind his own menu. “And you don’t know if you’re its type, Echo.”

Echo gasped. “Rex, I am a delight. It is a known fact that I will get a boyfriend before Fives does.”

“A known fact?” Fives demanded, setting his menu down on the table. “Since when?”

Nines shook his head, glancing briefly down at Fours and Do-si-do. The Marine was practically hiding behind his menu, and probably would be until it was taken away. Do-si-do, amazingly, had forgone examining the noodle offerings to lean over for all the gossip he could get from the conversation happening next to him. Typical Do-si-do. When he looked over to Wooley, he saw his friend’s eyebrows were lopsided as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. At least he’d had some experience with the 501st before. Throwing someone off the deep end with those guys was just mean.

Captain Rex cooly sipped his sake. “Since Echo asked everyone in your squad which of you would get a partner first, and everyone said Echo. You were asleep.”

“What?” Fives said, his utter indignation making everyone except Fours smile at least. “When–why did you–what? And since when are you a delight, Echo? You’re a kriffing menace!”

While the conversation descended into batcher banter, Nines leaned forward and told Wooley, “This is why Commander Sixes and his batch call the five-oh-first ‘Rex’s Freaks,’ by the way.”

His friend nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

Finally, when the conversation had truly started going downhill, Captain Rex set down his menu and put a hand on Echo’s head. “Domino. Domino, we’re in a public setting.”

“Echo started it.”

“You took the bait.”

“Domino. Please.”

Echo smirked and went back to his menu, and his captain finally removed his hand from his head. Nines had a lot of respect for Captain Rex, and most of it went towards his abilities to wrangle his troopers and General Skywalker at the same time. Cody had his respect for much the same reason, only it applied to Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, as well as the rest of the 7th Sky Corps. Also Cody was awesome.

While the two ARCs had been having their discussion, Nines hadn’t noticed Commander Nero moving from his seat at the other table until he was already standing near the end of their table. His presence made them all sit up a little taller. Okay, well everyone except Fours, who sat bolt upright immediately. Some things didn’t change.

Captain Rex looked up. “Commander.”

“I’m always amazed at how effective ARC training is on the field,” Commander Nero said.

“Oh, I am too, sir,” the captain said, looking to Domino.

Echo sniffed. “Why Rex, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Fives stuck his tongue out at him.

Commander Nero smiled briefly. “Anyway,” he said, “I wanted to let you all know it means a lot to Mira and her wife that you guys are here. They love having clones around, so if you’re ever on Trip Zip and need somewhere to eat, they’d be thrilled.”

“I’m just glad Commander Sixes finally gave us the location,” Do-si-do said, eyeing the commander at the other table. He must have noticed, because he brought his right hand to his face and very pointedly scratched his nose with his middle finger.

“Yeah, well, he’s a stubborn bastard,” Commander Nero smiled. “We all are, truthfully, just he and Bacara are a bit more petty about it.”

“Banthashit!” Commander Bacara called over. “You’re worse.”

Captain Rex raised an eyebrow at him. But further conversation was interrupted by a cheerful voice from the bar on the far side of the tables.

“A jogan margarita and a Corellian iced tea?”

Nines couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face, and he watched Fives, Echo and Captain Rex all cycle through expressions of shock and disbelief before breaking into huge smiles.

Ahoska came to stand next to Commander Nero, and he moved a little to the side to let her set down the drinks by Nines and Wooley. She still wore her akul headgear, although her Padawan beads were gone, but she seemed happy enough regardless. Her robes and armor had been replaced by a dark red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants and shoes, and a tan apron tied around her waist where her lightsabers used to hang.

“I had the iced tea,” Nines said, and she set down the glasses in front of each trooper.

Then she darted around Commander Nero to Captain Rex and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. “Hey, guys!”

“Soka!” Fives grinned.

“So this is where you ended up, eh?” Echo asked, reaching up to pat her shoulder when she hugged him.

Commander Nero shrugged. “Well, Saleha took a liking to her, and they’ve always had a spare bedroom in their apartment upstairs, so.”

Ah, that explained it. These women were serial adopters apparently, given the earlier comment about “our commanders.” Good. They seemed like good people. Ahsoka came around the other side of the table as the 118th’s commander retreated to his own, taking the seat Fives’ helmet had been saving for her. She hugged him like she had his brother and captain before she sat down.

“Hey, Commander,” Echo called over, and of course all three of them looked up. They seemed to figure out who it was for, and then only Commander Sixes was paying attention. “Did you know by depriving us of this location you were also depriving us of our little sister–”

“Shut up, Echo.”

Captain Rex snorted. “I’m glad you’ve found a place, Ahsoka.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I guess I kind of have the uh… Numbers here to thank for it,” she said, looking around the table. “If you guys hadn’t found Elevensies and introduced him to Commander Sixes, that whole thing would have been a lot uglier.”

Do-si-do beamed. “Well, you’re welcome for dragging everyone into it.”

Soon after Ahsoka appeared, Mira returned, and Nines finally tried his drink. He had to admit, it was damn good. He nodded at Wooley, who looked just as pleased with his.

The old weequay stood at the end of their table. “Is everyone ready, or should I give you more time?”

Everyone looked around the table, waiting for objections. Nines shrugged. “Looks like we’re ready,” he said. “Do-si-do?”

The pilot nodded seriously. “I was decanted ready.”

Mira smiled. “Aiya, let’s not keep you waiting.” She produced a small datapad and a stylus for it, then looked up expectantly.

One by one, they gave their orders. Ahsoka gave hers without even glancing at a menu, but she had been living here for a couple months now. Lucky girl, from what Nines had seen coming out of the kitchens around them. Perfect spot for a growing carnivore. He himself ordered a dumpling sampler with a side of Shili kybuck soup, and he was very much looking forward to trying everything.

When Mira had collected their menus and gone to the other table, Echo leaned forward to talk to Ahsoka. “So? How is it on the outside?”

She paused, looking down at her folded arms on the tabletop. “It’s… so different,” she said finally. “I mean, of course, I miss you guys, and I miss Anakin and Obi-Wan all the time. I don’t miss getting shot at, though.”

They laughed. Captain Rex raised his cup. “I will drink to that. You’re a lot safer here than with us, kid.”

“Yeah. I still think… I still think leaving was the best thing for me at the time,” she went on, her gaze once again falling. “I was just so confused and… and angry. And I knew the Jedi could have taken care of me–I could have taken some time off the field and did what Barriss did, take some time to recenter but…” She shook her head. “I dunno. After all that scrutiny from the Senate, and what happened to Barriss with those conspiracy theory goons?”

They nodded. They all knew the mixed emotions that had followed the tribunal and general hubbub around the Temple bombing. Ahsoka had faced the brunt of it.

“You’ve earned some time to yourself,” Captain Rex said. “I’m glad you’re getting some.”

She nodded. “How is everything, though? I can’t get the same information I used to.”

Nines shrugged. “War rages on.”

Fives added, “Rex finally managed to get a promotion to stick to Hardcase.”

His captain rolled his eyes and shook his head as Ahsoka’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Really? How?”

This wouldn’t have anything to do with this new rumor Nines had heard, would it…?

The captain spread his hands a little, leaning back in his chair. “The five-oh-first finally has its own demo team. And I appointed Hardcase as their leader.”

“That sounds like a nightmare,” Wooley said.

“It’s insane,” Echo agreed.

“But it’s working!” Fives grinned. “He reports to Jesse, and Jesse works though most of the stupidity by the time Echo gets it, and it’s working!”

“Go figure,” Ahsoka said, smiling along. “Are they any good?”

The captain nodded. “They’re effective, yeah.”

“Happily effective,” Echo added.

“Huh,” Nines said, his gaze drifting over to the 118th troopers. Didn’t they have an entire company dedicated to blowing things up? Firestorm? Something like that. He’d have to pick Zero’s brain about it. Hell, maybe Captain Rex should meet up with their commanding officer to get some advice.

Turns out, he wasn’t the only one on that train of thought. Fives leaned back and tapped one of the Handprint troopers–the other ARC. “Hey, Pixel.”

Pixel twisted around. “What?”

“What’s that name of that group you’ve got that blows up everything?”

Pixel’s brows rose. “Firebolt Company, why?”

Fives gestured to Captain Rex. “Firebolt Company! See, I told you, they have an even bigger version.”

The uninformed newcomer to the conversation shot a confused look at Echo, who explained. “Torrent Company just made our first dedicated demo team, we might need some pointers.”

“Ooh, cool!” The other Handprint trooper had turned around too, his smile distorting the black handprint tattooed over his mouth. Ouch… “How big is it?”

By that point, the other members at the far table had started listening along.

“Why are we talking about Firebolt?” Commander Nero asked, shooting a cautious glance at Commander Sixes and receiving a very eloquent raised eyebrow in response.

“Why are we shouting across a table when we could just move them together?” Commander Bacara said, and he did make a good point.

“Okay, okay, no one likes a know-it-all,” Commander Nero replied, getting slightly confused looks from the other commanders. Then he stood up and gestured to the tables. “Well? Were you just saying things to hear your own voice? Let’s go.”

Luckily for everyone around (and there weren’t many patrons nearby), they were military men, and they accomplished the simple task with nothing short of battlefield precision. Commander Nero gave the orders and directed Zero, Pixel, and the other trooper to help Fives and Echo move the chairs from between the tables, and there would undoubtedly be a little rearranging of seats to be done once the other chairs wouldn’t quite fit on either end. But, the other table had had two empty seats, so the end result wasn’t too squished.

Wooley ended up next to him instead of across from him, and once everyone was seated again, Commander Nero prompted Captain Rex to explain himself, which he did. Largely, the conversation was meaningless to Nines. He had no desire to be much of an officer, or be anywhere near a demo team in the field. But, the captain seemed to enjoy picking the other commander’s mind, and he would no doubt need the advice, from what Nines recalled of the stories about Hardcase.

Beside him, he saw Ahsoka lean over to Echo from where she sat between the two ARCs. “Where are you guys headed next?” she asked, a bit quieter than the conversations around her.

Echo took a drink from his conical glass, glancing around at the other patrons he could see. He finished his scan of the area and set down his glass to trace out words on the table top.

Ringo Vinda.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “Mid-rim, right? Space station or planet?”

“Station.”

She nodded again, her expression sharpening minutely. Battles in space were more dangerous by far than those fought dirtside. One wrong explosion, and a whole platoon could be sucked out into the cold crush of space. She knew that. She was what? Seventeen? Eighteen? And she knew that.

He shook his head, taking a drink himself to shake the concerns that brought. There was no use in them. War was war, and the Jedi had joined.

“Just you guys, or is there another battalion going?” Ahsoka asked, yet another astute inquiry.

Echo once again traced on the table. 962.

“That’s… Masters Tiplee and Tiplar, right? The twin sisters.”

Twins? Nines had no recollection of learning about any twin generals on Kamino, but his time on Kamino had been a lifetime of battles ago. He knew what he needed to know, and if he needed to know more, he’d take the time to learn.

Echo nodded. “Commander Doom is their CC.”

“Looking like an easy one, or… no?”

The ARC shrugged. “Can’t tell from here. Shouldn’t be terrible, though.” It was impossible to tell if he said that genuinely, or as a way to assuage her regret at being unable to go help them win. Both was just as likely as one or the other.

He paused his eavesdropping when Wooley nudged his elbow. “Why don’t more clones know about this place?” he wondered, looking around. “I mean no one’s even given us weird looks, and there’s almost a dozen of us. Including Domino.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Fine, they’re being civilized, I know, whatever. You get my point.”

Nines nodded his understanding. “I do, I do. I guess the commanders come here often enough for it to be… normal?”

They both looked over to the three commanders.

Commander Nero was still engrossed in regaling some story to Captain Rex, his eyes shining with utter delight as he used his hands to gesture at what could only be a truly thunderous explosion in the narrative. Commander Sixes sat on his other side, deep in conversation with Commander Bacara next to him. They weren’t even looking at each other, the Marines commander looking down at the table top, his finger tracing and retracing the inlaid pattern in the wood as he talked. But he was clearly just as engaged in the conversation as his brother, who was talking fixedly at a point by the stairs. The conversation seemed to concern some level of violence, because he saw the commanders both gesticulate at least once each like they were ripping something apart with their hands.

Regular, sure. Commonplace, perhaps.

“Normal might be a stretch,” he said aloud.

Wooley snorted. “Well, we’re genetically engineered soldiers. What’s normal got to do with it?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

They didn’t have much longer to wait until the doors of the large lift opened behind the bar and a whole half of the bar swung open to accommodate the large serving carts that arrived. There was a pair of them, the first of which Mira pushed, the cart hovering a few inches off the ground like a landspeeder might. But Nines’ attention rested on the old weequay only momentarily, because behind her, now backlit from the lift as the doors closed, was, by comparison, a towering togruta pushing a similar cart.

Judging by her age and the familiarity with which this togruta manoeuvered around Mira and the tables, this had to be the other owner. He hadn’t learned her name yet, but they made quite the pair together. Mira’s wife was about two feet taller than her, with warm red-orange skin, rich fuschia stripes on her montrals and lekku, and glittering metal and jewels adorning her nose, brow, arms, hands, and lekku. Dark red fabric draped over her shoulder and wrapped around her waist over a long black dress, all embroidered with flowers and small birds.

She came to their side of the table while Mira went to the other side. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said. “My name is Saleha. I believe you’re all ready to eat, yes?”

Do-si-do was literally gazing at the steaming plates and bowls. “Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed a little, and set about naming the dishes to get them handed out as soon as possible. When she had finished setting out the bowls and other dishes, including little bottles and bowls for various sauces, she asked, “Does anyone want cutlery instead of chopsticks?”

Nines blinked, looking down around his bowl and plate and realizing there were no forks or knives, just… two sticks and a spoon. He saw Wooley doing the same beside him. Looking up and around, he saw the three commanders with their gloves and vambraces off, skillfully manipulating their noodles around with the chopsticks like they’d been doing it for years.

Lucky bastards probably had been.

“I’d like some,” he said, giving a somewhat sheepish smile.

“Yeah, me as well, ma’am,” Wooley added, and Captain Rex and Echo followed suit.

Saleha put down forks and knives wrapped in red napkins for them, then moved away, pushing the cart back to the lift with her wife. Nines saw Echo’s face pinch into a little frown as he unwrapped his fork.

Ahsoka asked what he was wondering. “I thought you knew how to use chopsticks, Echo.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, “but ever since getting all those burns up my arm, it’s not very comfortable.”

“Well, you’re still better at it than me,” Nines offered. “I never even learned.”

Echo smiled, twisting a bundle of noodles onto a fork and blowing on them to cool them down. “Fives kept dragging me to these takeout places where they handed ‘em out. We got curious and looked up how to use them on the ‘net.”

He nodded back, sipping tentatively at a spoonful of soup.

Oh wow, that was good.

Everyone must have thought similarly, because the table was almost entirely void of conversation as everyone started eating. He was a little glad the soup had some spice in it, so he couldn’t inhale it in two seconds the way his brain and stomach were wanting him to do.

Wooley, who had also ordered some dumplings, reached to take one of the bottles of sauce Saleha had delivered with their food. “What is this?” he said, turning it to read the label. He looked up across the combined tables. “Commanders?”

The three looked up at the same time, which was kind of amusing.

Wooley held up the sauce. “What are these?”

Commander Nero answered. “Oh, that one’s the homemade hot sauce,” he said, pointing with his chopsticks to the bottle of orange sauce. “That’s better for the soups or noodles if you want extra kick. That one,” he said, pointing to the bottle of brown liquid on the table, “is called soy sauce, and it is amazing, and should go on and inside of your dumplings.”

Nines couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the immediate and comprehensive reply. Wooley smiled at it, and said, “Sir yes sir,” so just Nines and Pixel either side of him could hear. They both smiled at it.

While Wooley filled one of the tiny bowls with the dark brown sauce, Nines couldn’t help his curiosity. “Commander Nero, may I ask how exactly you found this place?”

All of the 118th troopers’s heads pivoted to their CO, eager anticipation visible on almost all of their faces. Pixel seemed a more subdued soldier than Zero or the other one.

Commander Nero glanced at them, then looked at Nines. “No, you may not.”

The 118th troopers deflated slightly. Well then.

“He was drunk and committing crimes,” Commander Bacara said.

“I can kill you in your sleep,” his brother replied breezily.

“My room’s booby trapped beyond recognition, you’d never make it two steps inside.”

“I can still firebomb–”

Commander Sixes cut them off. “Maker’s sake, will you two just eat your damn noodles?”

The two commanders eyed each other and went back to eating their damn noodles.

There was a brief pause before he heard Captain Rex say, “I don’t want to hear it, Fives.”

Presumably, Fives was about to point out that the commanders were allowed to have their disagreements, but he and his batchmate had been silenced too soon. After another pause, slightly longer than the last, the trooper whose name still escaped Nines spoke up.

“Commander Bacara, what did you mean when you said you room is booby trapped beyond recognition?”

Before Commander Nero had a chance to cut in, the Marines commander answered, “It means you’d be dead in about three seconds if they’re armed and you walk in like an idiot.”

Nox blinked. He looked at Fours, who nodded seriously. “You’re allowed to do that, sir?”

“Of course he’s not, Nox,” Commander Nero said. “But what doesn’t get reported doesn’t exist.”

Zero nudged Nox. “Yeah, like your secret stash no one’s supposed to know about?”

Nox’s eyes went comically wide. “No! You didn’t!”

“I didn’t!” Zero assured him. “It’s fine. I may have simply helped myself to a finder’s fee–”

“No! Commander!”

“What do you want me to do about it, Nox?” their commander said. “He found it fair and square. Get better at hiding your stuff, you’re in Whisper Co.”

Nox sighed, glaring at Zero as he returned to his bowl of noodles. “Yeah, they’re also in Whisper,” he muttered. “That’s the problem.”

The whole evening followed a quiet repetition of little discussions working up into small disagreements until it was shut down by someone else–and honestly, in Nines’ experience, that was how a lot of interactions with clones tended to go. They were soldiers, they spent their time trying to make dying feel like a worthwhile proposition, so their methods of letting off steam were usually a little coarser than the average civvy. But it was nice.

It was weird as hell, but it was nice.

The food was absolutely as good as Do-si-do had hoped, if his silence and constant smile were anything to go by. Before he’d started eating, he’d managed to find the self-control to take a picture of his bowl of ramen to send it to the Numbers chat so Sevenset could see it. He had the feeling those two missed being able to see each other in person more than the rest of the bunch, so he was glad Sevenset got to be included somehow. Rancor must be on a mission or asleep, though, because they didn’t get a reply that evening.

Mira and Saleha were coming and going fairly frequently. He figured as the owners, they had plenty of other people managing the place for them, so they flitted around, making sure everything was going smoothly, but that still left them with plenty of time to come talk to the commanders or Ahsoka. They just seemed so nice, it honestly amazed him. The commanders–even Sixes and Bacara, the rougher, gruffer of the three–let them pat their shoulders or put a hand on their heads like they were cadets.

Their kindness and open compassion even worked a little magic on Fours. The quiet Marine actually blushed a little under Mira’s compliments to his hair, and Nines caught him holding a brief conversation with Fives a little later on, although it was far too quiet to hear across the table. Seeing that, Nines knew those women could be trusted.

He just knew.

Warm happy feelings, yes? Yes. @mercurydancer @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @rndmpeep @soclonely as usual, let me know if you want to be added to the tags!

#i write things sometimes #tcw fanfic #number lads #numbers gang #clone trooper ocs #star wars ocs #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #commander bacara #ahsoka tano #togruta oc #weequay #chaos batch #btw bacara is muchly austisic #the whole chaos batch is so ND #good for them #but also #sirs your coping mechanisms...

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