hi, i am a human that probably won't be making many posts. (avatar from: "https://www.freepik.com/vectors/jacket">Jacket vector created by catalyststuff - www.freepik.com)
Temple guards running missions across Coruscant occasionally scaring the Corrie’s is very simple and very funny to me
Like the visual of a few Corrie’s standing in the senate building or another and oustide the window a Temple guard is just running across the glass along the building, coming to a dead stop to stare at them and then continue. Are they collecting a jedi in the building(Anakin)? Some Jedi intel gathering? Are they collecting Jedi now spying?? Isn’t that what Vos is for?
Or a Corrie guard doing a patrol and walking past an ally with the Temple guard standing there shaking down a guy, stopping, and walking back to see wtf they just walked past and boom the Guard is gone and so is the guy they were shaking. And then BOOM guard behind the poor Corrie giving them a heart attack and still no sign of whoever the guard was shaking.
Poor Fox receiives an email asking once a week to remove any sightings of the guards from reports his boys in red make.
There’s a whiteboard in the break room with an unlabled tally, it is for all the guard sightings and they make the tallies in red because all their whiteboard markers are red. However eerily blue tally’s show up time to time and Vos hypothesis, when Fox demands to know if it’s him, like its a ghost story that maybe the guards are adding in tally’s for all the times the Corrie’s didn’t see them but they say the corries
the aurebesh is the same as the words “resistance is futile/ necessary”
the idea for this came from me looking up mandalorian armor color meanings and realizing that scarlet symbolizes resistance. and that lead to me imagining a freshly off kamino fox painting his armor the color of the republic. as he grows and is exposed to all the horrors he keeps the red, not because of the republic, but as a silent ‘fuck u’ to the system hes trapped in.
One of my favorite Coruscant Guard headcanons is that they keeps tabs on all the natborns they interact with and sort them into lists based on how they treat Guard members.
Bail Organa, Riyo Chuchi, and Padme Amidala have permanent spots on the 'Would kill for' list because they're part of the very small group of Senators who genuinely sees the clones as people and go out of their way to make their jobs easier.
One time, Padme goes to visit the Corrie Guard barracks and upon seeing the state of their lounge room orders them a couch, several beanbag chairs, and a variety of different lamps and fairy lights. From then on, she has Guard troopers escorting her everywhere and two stationed outside her office in the Senate at all times. They give her handmade cards as thanks. She reads all of them and keeps most of them in a box in her desk drawer. One of the cards is from a shiny, that one she keeps pinned on her fridge. Over half of the nice furniture and furnishings in their base was bought by Padme (and a bunch of appliances as well, such as a kaf maker that doesn't have to be jury rigged every other ten-day). She and Fox have regular meetings to draft a Clone Rights bill.
Riyo stops in to visit the Commanders and explains politics to those who don't understand in language that they can understand so that they can stay informed. Sometimes she comes in to sit and do her own paperwork with them because she prefers their company over that of most of her fellow senators. She also frequents the medbay, helping the medics with their flimsiwork so that they can focus on treating their patients. She brings the CMO treats from the bakery he's not allowed into but has always wanted to try. She also frequently brings the Commanders her leftover takeout from different restaurants. She too has a permanent security detail and a box of thank you cards.
Bail stepped in to defend Fox when another senator was screaming at him for something small. Bail apologizes to Fox afterwards for his colleague's behavior and tells him he doesn't deserve to be treated that way. Bail's security detail follows him to Alderaan and everywhere else he goes (and of course, he also has a box full of cards). When Riyo vents to him about how under supplied the medbay is, he buys them the supplies they need under the table. He makes a point to publicly defend the personhood of the Clones when his colleagues talk shit about them. He talks to Sergeant Hound about their shared love of canines and buys Fox the good kaf that doesn't taste of misery and the end of someone's sanity.
The three of them have a shared doc and spreadsheet with a list of all their names and numbers, likes and dislikes, and favorite things they can't get because they get paid next to nothing and aren't allowed to shop in many of the stores that sell these items. They compare notes and take turns buying them their favorite snacks. Padme includes Riyo and Bail in the drafting of the Clone Rights bill. Fox finds the spreadsheet during a late night slicing session and spends a good five minutes staring at his office wall.
Eventually, Cody, Bly, Rex, and some others are also included in the Clone Rights bill meetings. It's the first time Cody and Bly have seen their vod'ika in months. They wheedle some of the Guard's plight out of him and convince him to let them help (after a lot of bribing and heart to hearts). One thing leads to another and the Jedi find out about Palpatine and they bring him to justice. Fox goes to the prison he's being kept in and shoots him in the head multiple times. The security footage from that night vanishes and the Jedi on guard deny seeing him enter.
Fox and Cody help Padme and Bail present the Clone Rights bill, and it gets passed. Fox is still Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, but now he has rights and access to the resources he needs. The Clone Wars ends with a Republic victory soon after, and the clones and everyone else live happily ever after.
Might turn some of this into a fic one day, we'll see
fic where the corries learn that they’re legally allowed to do courses and get degrees when the commanders are required to get degrees in order to legally file a lot of the paperwork crossing their desk and authenticate arrests and stuff.
They sign up for interrelating minors after the first degree.
a lot of it is stuff they already studied in their training, so Fox and Thorn are working on spPHDs while doing all of their other duties.
this is all completely unremarked upon until someone in the clone fan messageboards finds one of Fox’s essays and has enough knowledge on the subject is like ‘guys this is really good, and ow, the chancellor’s ears must have burned when he submitted this, because damn’
clone fans being what they are, the other work by the other corries is gone over with a fine tooth comb, but it’s not really noticed other than that.
until fox ends up doing an art history course or something, and Jocasta Nu is actually the professor in charge.
he has to come in for some of the lectures so the students can properly experience the works in question, and they’re in the archive. He also shares classes with jedi younglings on top of the coruscanti locals and core world galactic students.
he also, for the first time, has a group project that isn’t allowed to just be done over the comms. presumably because the jedi younglings have these kinds of classes on their schedules so they can be socialised with non-jedi in a safe environment.
Fox isn’t aware but like three new people have declared fox one of their friends
Fox’s final assignment for that course is actually the one that really blows up despite him submitting several thesis by that time eviscerating the new mandalorian government, mereel’s supercommando codex (because fuck you jango, your dad is smart but not an untouchable god), and the republican senate. but the art history course is where he discusses several priceless-because-they’re-fucking-illegal-to-own-sheev pieces in the chancellor’s office and apartments.
he submits the paper just before he makes the arrest, which he has the authority to do both because he has the necessary qualifications, and because sheev made him a high general in the GAR so he could do more of his paperwork.
The corrie officers switching armor when one of them is injured so they don't get in trouble. The corries building tech to fool the id scanners so they can appear to be whatever number they want. The commanders meticulously matching spare sets of armor to their own, every scratch and every paint stroke, in case Thorn needs to take Fox's shift or Thire needs to be swapped with Stone. The corries taking bribes so they can buy more paint and hair dye and prosthetics. The corries having a rotating set of numbers to use so they don't have to give their real one.
I'm having an art block moment where a couple of the bigger complicated things I really want to do aren't working so I decided to fall back on some simple painterly stuff
I hope he's having a nice time.
Commander Bacara | Delta 07
A digital painting of Commander Fox's Gen 2 helmet. Its sitting on an angle on the ground as a small bunch of Tiger Lillie's grow out from under it. Text at the top of the image reads "I hope this email doesn't reach you. I hope that you've escaped, that you're free."
Fox, mumbling to himself while walking: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
Thire: Fox?
Fox: Not now, Thire.
Fox: 5, 4, 3--
Thorn: Fox?
Fox: Don't interrupt me.
Thorn: ...?
Fox: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
Stone: Fox?
Fox: I don't have time right now.
Fox: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...5, 4--
Hound: 7, 8, 19--
Fox: Fresher duty.
Hound: Me!?
Fox, after taking a deep breath before entering the office: Sorry I'm late, sir, but I did warn you that I had another meeting that would run--
Senator: Listen to me, you sniveling little worm--
Fox, squaring his shoulders: No, sir. That kind of language will not be tolerated, not when I have tried to accommodate you to the best of my abilities.
Senator: You will not speak unless spoken--
Fox, taking another deep breath: Sir, this meeting is now over. You may schedule another meeting when you are in a better mood.
Senator: How dare you! I am not leaving this office!
Fox: You have five seconds to vacate that seat before I make you.
Senator: How--!?
Fox: 5...
Senator: The Senate will--
Fox: 4...
Senator: You cannot--
Fox: 3...
Senator, standing and walking to the door: This will not be tolerated!
Fox: Thank you for your time, sir. I hope to see you again on better terms.
Senator, storming out: I never!
Fox, letting out a shaky breath: You did it, Fox...You did it...
It was supposed to be an easy mission. Get in, get the loot, get out. There were minimal security guards, but of course Kix went with them. He could be useful if the guards became a problem and even more useful if they decided to get aggressive.
They didn’t count on the fact that there would be prisoners.
It shouldn’t have been all that surprising. The complex they were raiding was notorious for indulging in the underground slave trade and other displays of the physical arts. Kix had already spotted several scandalously dressed show pieces on their way in. It wasn’t that hard to believe that they had a place to store their “goods”.
But he stopped when he heard the sniffles of a youngling.
The sound halted him in his tracks and led his feet in a different direction. He broke away from the crew and headed down a side hallway, his blasters held in front of him the entire time. He passed by many doorways with caution, but none of them were the source of the sniffles. The sound continued to lead him onwards, deeper and deeper into the complex.
He vaguely realized that it would most likely be a while before he could find the others again, but it was the least of his concerns at the moment. Not when a youngling was in the vicinity.
Kix eventually peered around a corner and found the source of the sound: a barred door with an armed Trandoshan standing guard. He couldn’t see anything from his vantage point, but the Trandoshan frequently turned its head to snarl towards whatever was beyond the door. When the sniffles only strengthened, it growled and turned its full body towards the door. “If you don’t do something about that brat, I will!” It roared in annoyance, brandishing its large blaster for emphasis.
“P-please sir!” A weary voice came from behind the door as the sniffles started to transition into full on sobs. “He’s only a child!!”
“Do I look like I care?” The Trandoshan shot back, its blaster raised dangerously higher. “That sound is getting on my nerves! Now shut it up before I put a laser between its eyes!”
Instinct led to Kix pulling the trigger before the Trandoshan could spew another threat or worse, follow through on them. The blast hit it squarely in its chest, causing it to fall backwards and send its blaster skidding across the floor.
Not stunned. Kix’s blasters were never set to stun.
He quickly took the Trandoshan’s place next to the door and peered in. He took in the sight of a small assembly made up of a few colorful Togrutas, a handful of thin-looking Miralans, and a couple of frail Twi’leks. The group of Twi’leks had an older male with creases in his face and lekku, wrapped protectively around a youngling with trembling orange lekku. The tears on the youngling’s face let Kix know that he had been the one crying, though he had gone quiet when Kix had come into view.
It was here that Kix paused. He had acted purely on instinct when he heard the crying, with no plan for going forwards. This was still a large complex with (albeit sparse) security. He’d only killed the first in a long list of obstacles to freedom.
Well, he certainly couldn’t leave them here now. Someone would eventually realize that the Trandoshan hadn’t checked in, which would lead them to the cell and the dead guard, which would most likely lead to the crew getting discovered.
The cell door had a hand scanner next to it. He knelt down and picked up the Trandoshan’s quickly cooling hand, pressing it to the scanner. The technology let out a pleased noise before the door slid open, allowing the small group of prisoners to fully gaze upon their slapstick savior.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Kix told them, slipping into his best soldier voice, a voice he thought that he’d gotten rid of. “Keep calm and follow me. We have a ship waiting outside and can take you wherever you need to go.” Crimson Corshair can chew him out about letting a bunch of ragtag stragglers onto his ship later.
For a moment, the prisoners only stared at him, slack-jawed. Kix was worrying that he was going to have to repeat himself when the older Twi’lek hoisted himself up, using the wall behind him and the youngling next to him for support. On his feet, he hobbled his way over to Kix, the youngling walking next to him for both physical and emotional support, still sniffling.
Once in front of Kix, the Twi’lek just… stood and stared at him. Squinted at him through eyes as if trying to see past his armor and bucket to the man beneath it all. Kix did his best to hold up underneath the probing gaze - he’d undergone worse from clones and generals alike - but he was still squirming on the inside, unused to the attention. What is he looking for?
What does he expect to find?
Then something like recognition flickered in the Twi’lek’s eyes. Did he recognize him? No, he couldn’t… the war was over 50 years ago. This Twi’lek was older than the others, sure, but he couldn’t possibly be that old.
Not old enough to remember the clones.
Then his hand came out from next to his side and stretched towards Kix’s shoulder. This time he did flinch back. He can’t possibly recognize a clone… can he?
The hand fell on his shoulder guard. Kix felt the need to remove it, but something kept him from raising his own hand to do so. The hand was just… there. Not too heavy, not too light, just weighted enough for him to feel its presence. It was… almost comforting.
“Thank you,” The Twi’lek said, a warm smile on his lightly creased face. “Trooper.”
Kix felt his eyes widen behind his visor, tears brimming at the corners. Trooper. So this Twi’lek was old enough to remember the war. He still didn’t know Kix’s name, he couldn’t have. He could have just referred to Kix as “clone” - that was what most people referred to him as nowadays, seeing as he was the only one left.
But no. He referred to Kix as “trooper”.
Not someone that was just one of many faces, created from the DNA of a single man. Not someone who was groomed for battle, thrown into a war with the intent to win regardless of the stakes. Not someone whose main purpose was to die.
A person who stood for peace. A person who fought for justice. A person who bled for freedom. A person who…
Was just that. A person.
The Twi’lek nodded at him, recognition and understanding shining like a beaming star on his face. He looked down at the youngling next to him, who took it as their cue to reach up and grab Kix’s hand that was still clenched around his blaster. “T-thank you, Mister Trooper!” They warbled, their voice hoarse from crying.
The Twi’leks gripped onto each other as they moved out of the cell into the hallway. As they crossed the threshold, the other prisoners followed their lead and began standing up. They moved towards the doorway, towards Kix. As they passed him, they also put their hands on his shoulders with reverent whispers of “Thanks, trooper. Thank you, trooper.”
Kix was as still as one of the statues he had seen in a palace on a distant planet so many years ago. He still had to lead the prisoners to safety, he knew that. He still had to lead them past the guards and out of the complex to the awaiting ship, he knew that. He still had to wait for the crew and bear the brunt of their accusations, blames, and questions, he knew that. He still had to find a way to get the prisoners home, he knew that.
But right now, he was content. He was content even as big fat tears rolled down his cheeks in the privacy of his bucket.
Because for the first time in a long time… he felt as if he’d done his brothers proud.
—————
I don’t know, I was watching Arcane Season 2 and thought of my boy Kix again.
It’s 1:30 in the morning and I’m trying to bust out of some major writer’s block, so… how’d I do?
Four Times Kix Saw Someone He Wanted To See + 1 Time He Saw Someone He Didn’t Want To See
1. A Commander
The planet was in the night cycle. Crimson Corshair had decided that the weather was pleasant enough for the crew to enjoy outside the confines of their ship. Reveth was able to strike up a fire using fallen branches and Squeaky was able to cook up a feast using what spare rations they had. The few bottles of alcohol they had came out of hiding and were passed around their little circle as they shared stories of their lives before coming to the pirate life. More alcohol landed on the ground than in their mouths from all of their laughing.
The only one who didn’t laugh as much was their newest member. Kix still had yet to find his footing with the pirates, and he didn’t feel quite as comfortable sharing his personal stories with them yet. He had a few drinks, listened to a few tall tales, then excused himself as politely as possible and left to take a walk. Crimson Corshair waved him off with the usual half-hearted threat that if he wasn’t back by sunrise, they would leave without him.
Kix travelled until he was far enough for the small campfire to become nothing more than a minuscule wavering dot between the trees. The light breeze was a mercy against his uncovered face and neck, gently lifting the hair that he had allowed to grow out in the past couple of months. With the pirates still laughing in the distance, he took a moment to simply look up at the stars and sigh.
How did I end up here?
“Hello there.”
Kix startled and whipped around, his hand flying to his blaster holster. What sparse starlight there was outlined the figure standing behind him. They were a Togruta - Kix could tell from the lekku and montrals. Their face and lekku were creased with age, the markings on each were faded, they stood with a hunched back, they wore a worn cloak that hung heavily on their withered frame, and a crooked walking cane waited patiently beneath their folded hands.
But any trooper worth their armor would recognize their commander anywhere.
“C-Commander Tano!” Kix stammered. Years of built up instinct kicked in and he immediately assumed parade rest, bringing his right hand to his forehead in a respectful salute. “CT-6116, Field Medic, 501st Clone Battalion,” He fired off.
His Commander lowered her head and laughed warmly, her lekku swaying. Her laugh was like the rest of her, old and worn. “Oh Kix, of course I recognized you,” She told him jovially, surprising Kix even further. “I was in your med bay so many times, you practically gave me a punch card! I may be over 70, but neither my eyesight nor my memory has gone yet!”
Kix’s hand was shaking as he lowered his hand. “Over 60… that’s right…” He murmured distantly, hardly believing any of this was real. “The war… it ended over 50 years ago… everyone we know… they’re gone…”
Commander Tano’s face softened in sympathy. “Oh, Kix…”
Kix’s chest began to heave as his emotions started to swell and combine, with the sudden need to explain himself outweighing all the others. “I knew about the inhibitor chips, sir!” He burst out. “I got suspicious after Fives was killed, so I did some digging of my own! I learned the true purpose behind the chips… I even had mine taken out…” He dejectedly gestured to the pale line in the side of his head, his hand still shaking.
“B-but somehow, I was found out. The Separatists found me… put me in a cryo pod for the past 50 years…” He recalled the horror stories he had been told, the ones of the clones turning against the Jedi, hunting them down until they were all but extinct. The picture of his brothers, the ones he had fought beside and shared a laugh with, had shared hopes and dreams for after the war with, acting in such a mindless manner made his stomach turn. “Order 66… the Jedi… I wasn’t there…”
Commander Tano’s eyes, blue as her Master’s lightsaber had been, widened with her own surprise. “I sensed at least that much,” She admitted weakly. “I hadn’t seen hide or Force presence of you since before I left the Order, and you still seem so impossibly young after all this time, but… I never could have guessed with the rest… oh, Kix…” Her walking stick clacked against the hard ground as she moved closer to him.
Kix shook his head slightly before he hung it in shame. “I wasn’t there, but I should have been,” He said, voicing his deepest regret. “I should have been more discreet with my research… I should have alerted the Jedi Council sooner… I should have stayed with the 501st…” His fists clenched harder, his breath came faster until he was almost hyperventilating. “Maybe if I was there… I could have stopped it!”
A cool hand rested against his arm, drawing him out of his feverish state and back into the present. “I’m no stranger to ‘what-ifs’ when it comes to the war, myself,” Commander Tano revealed, her face creased with decades of sadness. “What if I had stayed with the Order? What if I had gone with Anakin?” Her gaze grew inward, unfocused. “What if I had been… had been…”
“More?” Kix supplied.
A weary smile creased Commander Tano’s face even further. “Indeed,” She agreed with a small nod. Her hand patted his arm gently. “Master Kenobi always taught me that the Force works in mysterious ways… I like to think he’s right. Yes, it took a couple of decades, but the galaxy is on its way to becoming even better than it was before. We’re still here, aren’t we?”
“Is that supposed to be a blessing or a curse, sir?” Kix asked weakly.
The once young Commander was still smiling, though her eyes no longer appeared dry. “I wonder that sometimes, as well,” She admitted.
Kix exhaled shakily. “We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we, sir?” He asked rhetorically, giving his best attempt at his own smile. When Commander Tano nodded, he asked one of his more burning questions, “The Jedi… were they able to recover?”
Commander Tano hesitated, but nodded once more. “Very few were able to escape Order 66,” She explained. “But those who survived found others who were Force sensitive, and the Order has been steadily rebuilding itself since.” She glanced down at her walking stick, facial markings raised as if amused. “I myself have been, er… retired for the past couple of years, but I’ve met some of these new Jedi. Some of the best fighters I’ve ever seen.”
Kix opened his mouth to ask another question, but stopped when a different voice flitted through the trees, “Hey, Kix! You’ve been gone for a while - are you okay?”
Reveth, Kix clocked before Commander Tano glanced in the direction of the voice and asked, “Friends of yours?”
He winced. “Traveling companions, more like,” He amended.
Commander Tano smiled knowingly before patting his arm once more and stepping back. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your little get-together,” She said breezily, turning as if to walk away.
Kix panicked and reached out to grab her wrist. “W-wait, sir-!”
She glanced back at him with nothing but warmth and kindness in her gaze. “I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime - all I wish for now is to spend the rest of my days in peace!” She told him. She used the hand that was still on her wrist to pull him towards her, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “Though if an old friend were to stop by every now and then to have a chat and catch up, I certainly wouldn’t complain.”
Kix’s own gaze grew watery as he stared at her. He knew this Togruta, had given her medication when she was sick, had patched her up and lectured her when she got injured, had listened to her orders on the battlefield, had listened to her cry over her perceived failures into the shadows of his med bay. He had seen her grown up, and now she was older than him and offering him a place of solace whenever he needed it. It was almost too much for his already overwhelmed psyche. “Commander…”
“It’s Ahsoka, Kix,” She corrected him. She winked before politely pulling her wrist out of his grasp. “You know where to find me, and then I’ll find you.”
“Kix!” Reveth called again before he finally spied her familiar red lekku making their way through the trees. “Hey, there you are. What are you doing out here?”
Kix glanced back at Commander Tano… no, Ashoka, only to find that she had vanished into thin air. Kriffing Jedi, He thought fondly, thinking of her promise that her door would always be open to him and smiling. “Just… talking to an old friend,” He told Reveth vaguely, happy to keep at least more secret from the pirates.
2. A Brother
It was during a supply run. The crew had landed on some shady Outer Rim planet, one that was popular with smugglers and pirates, to barter for rations and information. Crimson Corshair had gone into a tent to haggle with some big time trader, leaving the rest of the crew to stand in various places in and around the tent to keep watch.
Kix was in full kit, standing apart from the others. It was this part of their little excursions that he always found the most boring, even more than when they were in hyperspace. At least then, he could find something on the ship to fiddle with. Here, in public, he was expected to at least appear alert and ready. Even when he was truthfully bored out of his mind.
“Take off your bucket.”
Startled out of his reverie, Kix glanced to his right to see an adult Mandalorian, also in full kit, with painted green armor. The armor had clearly seen its fair share of battles, which played in with the Mandalorian’s gruff demeanor. “E-excuse me?”
“You’re wearing Phase 1 clone trooper armor,” the Mandalorian stated by way of explanation. They leaned forward menacingly. “Your bucket. Take. It. Off.”
Kix wasn’t sure what the big deal about his helmet was, but he couldn’t find an excuse that could appease a battle-hardened Mandalorian. He raised his hands placatingly before putting them on his bucket. A few strands of sweat dampened hair stuck to his forehead as he pulled it off, reminding him that it had been a fair amount of time since he had seen a proper ‘fresher.
The Mandalorian was silent, the dark visor on their own bucket probing as they took in his features. Kix was starting to sweat even more by the time they finally muttered, “So it’s true… the clone troopers aren’t extinct.”
Kix bristled at the tone the Mandalorian took when mentioning his brothers. It was a tone he’d learned was often used when discussing the clones, but it didn’t get any easier to hear. “And? What’s it to you?” He asked, trying to match the Mandalorian’s menacing persona.
The Mandalorian was quiet for a few extra moments; Kix was beginning to think it was their MO. He waited as patiently as he could before the Mandalorian sighed and reached up to remove their own bucket. “Truth be told, I already knew they weren’t extinct,” the uncovered mouth revealed.
Kix took a step back, shocked.
He was looking at a much older, paler, grumpier, scarred version of his own face.
Another clone? He thought with a rush of emotion. He almost allowed himself to hope before the Mandalorian frowned even deeper. “Don’t get too excited, clone. I’m not one of your fellow troopers.” He drew himself up to his full height and looked at Kix with an air of self-pride. “I am Boba Fett. My father was the bounty hunter Jango Fett. I assume you recognize his name?”
The genetic template for the entire GAR? The reason for Kix’s existence? Yeah, he recognized his name. He also recognized the name of the man in front of him, though what he’d heard of him had not exactly been pleasant.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of him, and of you,” Kix told him through gritted teeth, his grip tightening around his bucket. “As I recall, you made it very clear during the war that you were not one of us.”
“Because I wasn’t,” Boba stated firmly, the brown eyes that all clones shared blazing.
Keep telling yourself that, buddy, Kix thought with a barely restrained eye roll. “So if you’re not a clone or a trooper… what gives? Why approach me now?”
Boba finally seemed at a loss for words. His jaw worked as he took in Kix from head to toe once more before sighing. “I don’t know, I… I guess it’s just a relief to know that… my father’s legacy isn’t entirely gone. Not yet, at least.”
Is that an admittance? Kix wondered. Rather than voice that thought, though, he sighed and nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Boba,” He agreed, gazing at the face he thought he would only ever see again in a mirror.
The bounty hunter returned the nod. He looked like he wanted to say more, but was interrupted by the sound of Quiggold calling out. “Kix! The Captain was able to broker a deal,” The Gabdorin explained, sidling up to their little duo. “We’re expected to…” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Boba, the Mandalorian fixing him with a scathing glare. Quiggold’s tiny eyes blinked rapidly before his wide mouth split into an even wider smile. “Well, put a saddle on me and call me a rancor! You actually found another clone!”
“Not a clone,” Both men corrected him. As Quiggold spluttered from embarrassment, they looked at each other in surprise before breaking out into twin smirks. They may not both identify as clones, but at least they were able to reach some kind of understanding.
3. A Sister
It was during another break between their exploits. They were helping themselves to the local cuisine of a small planet, whose natives were very welcoming and didn’t seem to mind that they were pirates. Their trusting nature honestly worried Kix, and he took it upon himself to keep a close eye on the crew to ensure they didn’t take advantage of their hosts’ kindness.
Like usual, Kix was sitting off to the side, away from the crew. He was getting along better with the crew members, but he just couldn’t seem to gel completely with their law free nature. He honestly doubted that he ever would, a fact he was perfectly fine with. With a plate of food in his hand and fireworks of exotic flavors in his mouth, he was as content as he could be.
“Um, excuse me, sir… but are you a clone, by any chance?”
By this point, Kix was used to people coming up to him when he was by himself, so he didn’t even blink when he turned to address his new company. When he saw who it was, though, he did have to blink to clear his vision.
He was looking at his own face.
Well, sort of his own face. The one in front of him was older, with laugh lines around the eyes and mouth. The lips were softer than those he’d seen on brothers, and the head was topped with streaked blonde hair instead of black.
Also, it was attached to a female body.
“Um… yes?” He said cautiously, not daring to jump to conclusions. “Can I help you?”
The woman gasped with delight, her hand coming up to press against her heart. “I knew it!” She declared, then tried to backpedal. “Actually, I only kind of knew it. I didn’t want to believe it at first - it’s just been so long since I’ve seen someone with your face, and so young, too! It’s almost unbelievable.”
Understatement of the galaxy, Kix thought ruefully. The truth behind his apparent youth was not one he thought anyone would envy.
The woman seemed to realize something, her face turning apologetic. “Oh, I’m sorry! I haven’t introduced myself!” She declared, offering her hand. “I’m Omega! And believe it or not, I’m actually a clone, as well!”
Kix stiffened in surprise before he slowly placed his hand in hers. “You… are?”
The woman, Omega, smiled as if they were sharing an inside secret. “Mhm! I wasn’t given the accelerated aging gene like the other clones, so I never saw combat during the Clone Wars, but I was created from Jango Fett’s genetic template just like the troopers,” She explained, giving his hand a few enthusiastic pumps before letting go.
Kix smiled weakly, hardly believing this was happening. “I… didn’t know there were female clones,” He admitted. It was true - to his knowledge, the Kaminoans had only created male clones, since Jango Fett was also a male.
“Trust me, I thought I was the only female clone,” Omega agreed. “But as it turns out, I wasn’t. There were actually a handful of female clones created! Though from my understanding, they were only allowed to take positions like tacticians and medics.” She sucked her teeth in annoyance. “Such a waste, if you ask me.”
Kix finally allowed himself a real smile. “Hey, I’m a medic,” He jested. “So watch your mouth.”
“You are?” Omega asked excitedly, taking the information as her cue to sit down next to him. “What’s your name? And what battalion were you in?”
“Kix, and I was in the 501st,” He told her, offering his plate. What little hunger he had left had been replaced with excitement at the prospect of a new (alive) family member.
Omega gasped as she graciously took a piece of his proffered food. “No way! That means you knew Captain Rex and Echo!” She realized.
“Ah, those are two names I haven’t heard in a while,” Kix said wistfully, using every fiber of his being to refrain from coating his words in sadness. It really had been a while. “Though last I’d heard from Echo, he’d left the 501st to join the…”
“The Bad Batch,” Omega supplied with a knowing grin. “Yep - that’s my family!”
Kix did a double take. “The Bad Batch raised you?” He asked incredulously. At Omega’s answering nod, he blew air through his lips. “I was only involved with them for one mission, but from what I saw, raising kids wasn’t exactly their expertise.” Another memory crossed his mind and he winced. “And no offense, but I wasn’t on the best terms with that Crosshair guy.”
Omega only nodded again. “None taken. He made more enemies than friends as a trooper,” She agreed.
Kix laughed slightly before a more somber question came to mind. “The Bad Batch,” He ventured carefully. “Are they…?”
Omega’s face took a look of sadness. “I’m sorry… the last member passed away a few years ago,” She told him softly. “To be honest, I thought I was the last of the clones until I saw you.”
“I thought the same,” Kix agreed, taking in the features he had seen on so many brothers, just not a sister.
“I think about them everyday,” Omega admitted, taking another piece of food and staring at it as if she could see the members of her family in its surface. “They taught me everything they knew. How to use a blaster, how to repair multiple mechanisms, how to defend myself, and more importantly, how to fly.” Her tone started to gain strength once more as she popped the piece in her mouth and continued. “I was actually a pilot for the Rebellion, you know. I was even active during the Battle of Endor, when the Empire fell!”
“Really? That is impressive!” Kix replied, secretly proud that a member of his family had had a hand in the decisive victory, small as that hand was. “Are you still a pilot, or…?”
“Oh, the battle’s not over yet,” Omega told him, her tone becoming serious. She looked towards the sky with her jaw set and her gaze like durasteel. It almost made Kix cry with how familiar it was. “The Empire’s not gone - another wave called the First Order has been rearing its ugly head lately. They’re trying to pick up where the Empire left off.” She smirked defiantly towards the stars. “If they think they can take back the galaxy we fought so hard to liberate, they have another thing coming!”
She looked back at Kix and smiled the largest smile he had seen yet. “I may be over 60, but I still have more than enough fight left in me!” She assured him. She rolled up her sleeve and flexed, adding a confident wink to the mix. “Trust me, the galaxy is in good hands!”
The idea of the tyrannical Empire coming back in any form made Kix more than a little uneasy. Looking at Omega’s bright and open face, however, he let himself believe that it was all going to be okay. “If you were raised by the Bad Batch, I have no doubt about that, Omega,” He told her truthfully.
Omega rolled her sleeve back down and winced, looking embarrassed at her little outburst. “What about you?” She asked him, taking another piece off his plate. “With the Clone Wars long over, what have you been up to?”
“I met some…” Kix started to explain, flinching when Squeaky laughed a little too loud not far from them. “Traveling companions,” He finished with a grimace.
Omega smirked as she took notice of the crew. “Pirates?” She clarified, amused.
“It was my only choice at the time,” Kix told her dejectedly.
Omega only laughed and helped herself to another piece of food; the plate was almost empty. “I knew a few pirates during my travels as well,” She revealed wistfully. “If these pirates are anything like the ones I’ve met, then I’d say you’re in good company.”
“They haven’t done anything too bad yet, so I’d like to agree with you,” Kix acquiesced, sighing. “There’s still time, though.”
Omega laughed again before patting his arm and standing up. “Alright, I’d better get going,” She said, sounding reluctant. “We only stopped here for a supply run - the others are probably wondering where I am.” Her brown eyes, so much like her brothers’, gazed down warmly at him. “It was nice meeting you, Kix.”
“Nice meeting you too, Omega,” Kix agreed with a nod. Before she got too far, however, he called out to her, “Hey - do you think we can see each other again? It’s nice catching up with family.”
Omega paused before looking over her shoulder with a grin. “I’m a pilot and you’re a pirate,” She told him. “I’m sure our paths will cross again someday.” With that, she continued her trek back to her ship and her crew.
Kix smiled after her, his nearly empty plate clasped between his hands. I’m not the only one, He couldn’t help reminding himself, still hardly believing their interaction had happened. I’m not the last one.
4. A Captain
It was during one of their exploits. Crimson Corshair had caught wind of an large treasure on a distant planet in the Outer Rim, a treasure that many collectors would pay big credits to have. It was too big of a payoff to pass up, so the crew readily took up the challenge. They located the planet, landed, and started asking the natives about the treasure, trying to find a lead to its location.
But all the natives would give them were warnings. They warned them not to look for the treasure, that it was protected by a group of guardians that would not be kind to those who tried to take it. When asked to elaborate about these “guardians”, the natives admitted that none had ever seen them and lived to tell the tale. All they would say was that the guardians had always protected the galaxy and would always protect the various culture of its people. “If you are idiotic enough to anger them,” They were cautioned. “Place your spoils on the ground in front of you, bow your head, and pray that they will show you mercy.”
Kix had quickly learned, though, that Crimson Corshair’s pirate crew was not one to be deterred. After finding at least one trader on the planet that wasn’t so easily scared off by tales of the treasure, they were able to find a general location of where the treasure may be. And after much searching and searching, and digging and digging, by all the stars, they were able to find it.
It was such a large find that even Kix was excited that they had found it. They were so caught up in the discovery that they forgot all about the native’s warnings. They removed the treasure from its resting place and brought it back to their ship, ready to bring it off world so they could deliver it to the highest bidder.
But the ship wouldn’t start.
And then the sound started.
It sounded like hundreds - no, thousands of pairs of feet hitting the ground, marching, steadily growing stronger as it got closer. It got to the point that nearly everything in the ship started to rattle. Corshair yelled at Reveth to get the ship in the air, but she only yelled back that everything was offline and nothing she did was getting it to start. It seemed that the natives’ warnings were true and the crew was about to face justice for their crime.
Well, if the warnings about the guardians were true, perhaps the advice on how to evade them was also true. Kix quickly gathered the treasure into one pile in the center of the ship and lowered himself to the floor, pressing his forehead to the cold durasteel and yelling for the others to do the same. His order was met with several noises of indignation, but it was clear as the sound got closer that they had no other option, and they quickly mirrored his stance.
The sound increased steadily until it sounded as though it was right outside the ship, then stopped. Then came the sound of someone (or something) knocking on the hatch door. Kix couldn’t bring himself to answer it, and from the hollow sound of it, no one else could, either.
So then came the sound of the hatch door blowing open on its own.
Everyone flinched, but no one dared to raise their heads. They stayed silent as the sound of someone entering the ship echoed throughout the small enclosure. They stayed silent as the foot entered the space where they were all bowing. They stayed silent as the footsteps paused and then started moving again.
Kix flinched when he realized they were coming for him.
He stayed as still as possible as the guardian stopped in front of his folded form, then went quiet. He stayed still as he waited for his end to come in the form of a spear, or a knife, or a blaster, or a combination of the three as a very creative punishment. But it never came.
Instead came the single breathed word, “Brother.”
If Kix was still before, he was a statue now. He knew that voice - it was the same as his own. He cautiously lifted his head. He knew those boots - he’d once worn a similar pair. His head lifted further. He knew those Kama and those blasters - he’d once seen them on the battlefield, flared and fired with an unmatched ferocity. Even higher. He knew that shade of blue - it had decorated his own armor once. Even higher.
Of course they would be the guardians. They had sworn to protect the galaxy, and being dead would not change that.
Of course they would be here. They had always been everywhere, for the people’s sake.
Of course they would send him. He had been one of the best, the one to look towards in any given situation.
Of course they would send…
“Captain?”
The soft question slipped out before he could stop it, but it was true. There he was, standing in front of him, his painted jaig-eyes on his bucket staring down sadly at Kix. His hands barely whispered as he reached up and slowly removed the armor, revealing shaved blonde hair and deep brown eyes that gazed at him with an even sadder expression.
It’s him. It’s really him. Captain Rex.
The captain Kix and the entire 501st would have followed into all hells possible slowly lowered himself until he was at Kix’s eye level. His bucket held in one hand, he reached out with the other to gently clasp Kix’s shoulder. A thousand explanations and even more apologies bubbled into his throat, choking him, but the look in Rex’s eyes told him that he already knew everything he wanted to say, and that he understood.
“I’m tired, sir,” Kix wept quietly. “I’m so tired of everything. I just want to go with you and the others. I just want to be done.” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he begged, “Please… please just take me with you…”
Rex gazed at him sympathetically, his hand still placed comfortingly on Kix’s shoulder. His head shook almost imperceptibly, though it was enough to dislodge even more tears from Kix’s eyes. He moved his hand from his shoulder to his neck, gently pulling Kix towards him until his lips ghosted his ear.
“It’s not your time yet, brother,” His captain told him, his words barely even a whisper. “Keep marching, trooper - we’ll be waiting for you at the end.”
Rex pulled back to look at Kix again. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. None in the 501st could ever say no to Rex.
His captain gave his shoulder one last encouraging squeeze before he got to his feet. He gave Kix a sad smile, then put his bucket back on and gave him a salute. Tears still falling and hands still shaking, Kix weakly returned the salute before Rex turned on his heel and exited the ship.
It was only after he was out of sight that Kix realized he had somehow taken the treasure with him.
Curiosity pushed him to his feet and caused him to hurry after Rex. He left the crew, still in their bowed positions, and hurried towards the hatch door, wanting to at least watch his captain as he left.
Once he got to the threshold, he had to pause.
There, waiting patiently outside the ship, were his brothers. Rows upon rows of clones standing at parade rest, wearing armor of every type. Phase 1, Phase 2, pilot, SCUBA, galactic marines… they were all there, a beautiful proud rainbow of martial strength. He could see the bright blue of the 501st, the golden orange of the 212th, the bold red of the Coruscant Guard, the dusty gray of the 104th, or Wolf Pack, and he could even make out the dark armor of the Bad Batch.
They were all there. Doing as they always did.
As soon as Rex rejoined their ranks, the entirety of the GAR turned on their heels and started marching away, the sound of their feet a magnificent drum that spoke of bravery and courage. Kix longed to rush after them, to join their ranks as well, but Rex’s words kept him in the threshold of the ship. It wasn’t his time, he’d told him, and that he still had work to do. Though when it was time, he had the feeling that he would be welcomed into their ranks with open arms.
Eventually, the marching started to fade and his brothers started to disappear from sight. One by one, they marched on and vanished into the sky beyond.
Back into the galaxy they always did and always would protect.
Kix later made Corshair promise to leave treasures of cultural significance alone. Now that he knew for sure that his brothers’ eyes were on him, he wanted to make sure he did them proud.
+1. A General
In retrospect, Kix probably should have seen it coming. With all of the familiar faces he had been seeing during his travels, it only made sense that he would also want to make an appearance.
Didn’t make the encounter any less painful.
It was after one of their exploits. Kix was on his own in the makeshift med bay of the ship, cleaning and doing maintenance on his various tools. He may not be completely comfortable living and traveling with a bunch of pirates, but he certainly doesn’t want them to die from filthy equipment. His morals as a medic would be called into question.
“Kix.”
His hands stilled. It was a voice Kix hadn’t heard in a long time and thought he would never hear again. A voice that had offered him what solace it could when he lost a brother during battle or on the table. A voice that had pushed him to do his best even when the going got tough. A voice that had called to him from across the battlefield, alerting him to a downed brother.
A voice I still don’t want to hear, Kix decided, clenching his jaw and getting back to work, hoping his new audience would get the message and leave.
“Kix,” The voice tried again. He stifled a groan. So much for hoping. “It’s… been a long time.”
Kix didn’t want to hear it. He kept his head down and kept working on his tools.
“Kix… I’m sorry.”
Oh, that kriffing does it.
“Don’t,” Kix burst out, feeling the residual shock of his audience. “Just… don’t. The last person I want sympathy from is you.”
The second party seemed to struggle for a moment before they tried again, firmer. “Kix, just listen…”
“No, I don’t want to hear it!” Kix yelled. He decided to put his tools down, unwilling to break his instruments during his much needed outburst. This was a long time coming - he needed to get this out.
“I heard the stories, you know,” He started, clenching his fists, barely keeping his emotions in check. “The stories about you… what you did… what you became…”
“Kix…”
“The stories about how you turned against the Jedi - your own people!” He continued through gritted teeth. “You slaughtered them all… had them hunted down like animals! And my brothers… you roped them into your mess… didn’t even give them a choice…”
“That was-”
“My brothers turned against the very people they were sworn to protect!” Kix cried, not caring for his excuses. “They didn’t even realize they were doing it… we were all taught that ‘good soldiers follow orders’, but those teachings became our downfall… and that of the Republic… the very Republic you were sworn to protect!”
“I didn’t-”
“Yes, I know the truth of what happened to them, but what good does it do them now? They were still turned into mindless droids and forced to shoot down their allies! And you… you helped them. You chose to follow him. You chose to listen to him. As a result, everything we ever knew, everything we fought and died for, was for nothing!
“All because of your choice,” He seethed, his fists rock hard in his lap. “One decision, one wrong choice… cost us everything.”
“Kix…” Came the voice, a silent plea. It was so pathetic, it made him furious.
“GET OUT, SKYWALKER!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
The shock of the second party was almost palpable. Kix was left shaking and seething into the quiet. If he still had his tools in his hands, they would’ve been piles of debris by now.
Luckily his audience seemed to finally got the gist that he wasn’t open for discussion and fell silent. Once he was sure he was once again alone, he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to fall apart.
—————
Kix deserves closure.
That’s all I have to say.
(BTW, bonus points for any Netflix fans who recognize the movie scene that inspired Kix and Rex’s scene.)
Four Times Kix Saw Someone He Wanted To See + 1 Time He Saw Someone He Didn’t Want To See
1. A Commander
The planet was in the night cycle. Crimson Corshair had decided that the weather was pleasant enough for the crew to enjoy outside the confines of their ship. Reveth was able to strike up a fire using fallen branches and Squeaky was able to cook up a feast using what spare rations they had. The few bottles of alcohol they had came out of hiding and were passed around their little circle as they shared stories of their lives before coming to the pirate life. More alcohol landed on the ground than in their mouths from all of their laughing.
The only one who didn’t laugh as much was their newest member. Kix still had yet to find his footing with the pirates, and he didn’t feel quite as comfortable sharing his personal stories with them yet. He had a few drinks, listened to a few tall tales, then excused himself as politely as possible and left to take a walk. Crimson Corshair waved him off with the usual half-hearted threat that if he wasn’t back by sunrise, they would leave without him.
Kix travelled until he was far enough for the small campfire to become nothing more than a minuscule wavering dot between the trees. The light breeze was a mercy against his uncovered face and neck, gently lifting the hair that he had allowed to grow out in the past couple of months. With the pirates still laughing in the distance, he took a moment to simply look up at the stars and sigh.
How did I end up here?
“Hello there.”
Kix startled and whipped around, his hand flying to his blaster holster. What sparse starlight there was outlined the figure standing behind him. They were a Togruta - Kix could tell from the lekku and montrals. Their face and lekku were creased with age, the markings on each were faded, they stood with a hunched back, they wore a worn cloak that hung heavily on their withered frame, and a crooked walking cane waited patiently beneath their folded hands.
But any trooper worth their armor would recognize their commander anywhere.
“C-Commander Tano!” Kix stammered. Years of built up instinct kicked in and he immediately assumed parade rest, bringing his right hand to his forehead in a respectful salute. “CT-6116, Field Medic, 501st Clone Battalion,” He fired off.
His Commander lowered her head and laughed warmly, her lekku swaying. Her laugh was like the rest of her, old and worn. “Oh Kix, of course I recognized you,” She told him jovially, surprising Kix even further. “I was in your med bay so many times, you practically gave me a punch card! I may be over 70, but neither my eyesight nor my memory has gone yet!”
Kix’s hand was shaking as he lowered his hand. “Over 60… that’s right…” He murmured distantly, hardly believing any of this was real. “The war… it ended over 50 years ago… everyone we know… they’re gone…”
Commander Tano’s face softened in sympathy. “Oh, Kix…”
Kix’s chest began to heave as his emotions started to swell and combine, with the sudden need to explain himself outweighing all the others. “I knew about the inhibitor chips, sir!” He burst out. “I got suspicious after Fives was killed, so I did some digging of my own! I learned the true purpose behind the chips… I even had mine taken out…” He dejectedly gestured to the pale line in the side of his head, his hand still shaking.
“B-but somehow, I was found out. The Separatists found me… put me in a cryo pod for the past 50 years…” He recalled the horror stories he had been told, the ones of the clones turning against the Jedi, hunting them down until they were all but extinct. The picture of his brothers, the ones he had fought beside and shared a laugh with, had shared hopes and dreams for after the war with, acting in such a mindless manner made his stomach turn. “Order 66… the Jedi… I wasn’t there…”
Commander Tano’s eyes, blue as her Master’s lightsaber had been, widened with her own surprise. “I sensed at least that much,” She admitted weakly. “I hadn’t seen hide or Force presence of you since before I left the Order, and you still seem so impossibly young after all this time, but… I never could have guessed with the rest… oh, Kix…” Her walking stick clacked against the hard ground as she moved closer to him.
Kix shook his head slightly before he hung it in shame. “I wasn’t there, but I should have been,” He said, voicing his deepest regret. “I should have been more discreet with my research… I should have alerted the Jedi Council sooner… I should have stayed with the 501st…” His fists clenched harder, his breath came faster until he was almost hyperventilating. “Maybe if I was there… I could have stopped it!”
A cool hand rested against his arm, drawing him out of his feverish state and back into the present. “I’m no stranger to ‘what-ifs’ when it comes to the war, myself,” Commander Tano revealed, her face creased with decades of sadness. “What if I had stayed with the Order? What if I had gone with Anakin?” Her gaze grew inward, unfocused. “What if I had been… had been…”
“More?” Kix supplied.
A weary smile creased Commander Tano’s face even further. “Indeed,” She agreed with a small nod. Her hand patted his arm gently. “Master Kenobi always taught me that the Force works in mysterious ways… I like to think he’s right. Yes, it took a couple of decades, but the galaxy is on its way to becoming even better than it was before. We’re still here, aren’t we?”
“Is that supposed to be a blessing or a curse, sir?” Kix asked weakly.
The once young Commander was still smiling, though her eyes no longer appeared dry. “I wonder that sometimes, as well,” She admitted.
Kix exhaled shakily. “We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we, sir?” He asked rhetorically, giving his best attempt at his own smile. When Commander Tano nodded, he asked one of his more burning questions, “The Jedi… were they able to recover?”
Commander Tano hesitated, but nodded once more. “Very few were able to escape Order 66,” She explained. “But those who survived found others who were Force sensitive, and the Order has been steadily rebuilding itself since.” She glanced down at her walking stick, facial markings raised as if amused. “I myself have been, er… retired for the past couple of years, but I’ve met some of these new Jedi. Some of the best fighters I’ve ever seen.”
Kix opened his mouth to ask another question, but stopped when a different voice flitted through the trees, “Hey, Kix! You’ve been gone for a while - are you okay?”
Reveth, Kix clocked before Commander Tano glanced in the direction of the voice and asked, “Friends of yours?”
He winced. “Traveling companions, more like,” He amended.
Commander Tano smiled knowingly before patting his arm once more and stepping back. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your little get-together,” She said breezily, turning as if to walk away.
Kix panicked and reached out to grab her wrist. “W-wait, sir-!”
She glanced back at him with nothing but warmth and kindness in her gaze. “I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime - all I wish for now is to spend the rest of my days in peace!” She told him. She used the hand that was still on her wrist to pull him towards her, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “Though if an old friend were to stop by every now and then to have a chat and catch up, I certainly wouldn’t complain.”
Kix’s own gaze grew watery as he stared at her. He knew this Togruta, had given her medication when she was sick, had patched her up and lectured her when she got injured, had listened to her orders on the battlefield, had listened to her cry over her perceived failures into the shadows of his med bay. He had seen her grown up, and now she was older than him and offering him a place of solace whenever he needed it. It was almost too much for his already overwhelmed psyche. “Commander…”
“It’s Ahsoka, Kix,” She corrected him. She winked before politely pulling her wrist out of his grasp. “You know where to find me, and then I’ll find you.”
“Kix!” Reveth called again before he finally spied her familiar red lekku making their way through the trees. “Hey, there you are. What are you doing out here?”
Kix glanced back at Commander Tano… no, Ashoka, only to find that she had vanished into thin air. Kriffing Jedi, He thought fondly, thinking of her promise that her door would always be open to him and smiling. “Just… talking to an old friend,” He told Reveth vaguely, happy to keep at least more secret from the pirates.
2. A Brother
It was during a supply run. The crew had landed on some shady Outer Rim planet, one that was popular with smugglers and pirates, to barter for rations and information. Crimson Corshair had gone into a tent to haggle with some big time trader, leaving the rest of the crew to stand in various places in and around the tent to keep watch.
Kix was in full kit, standing apart from the others. It was this part of their little excursions that he always found the most boring, even more than when they were in hyperspace. At least then, he could find something on the ship to fiddle with. Here, in public, he was expected to at least appear alert and ready. Even when he was truthfully bored out of his mind.
“Take off your bucket.”
Startled out of his reverie, Kix glanced to his right to see an adult Mandalorian, also in full kit, with painted green armor. The armor had clearly seen its fair share of battles, which played in with the Mandalorian’s gruff demeanor. “E-excuse me?”
“You’re wearing Phase 1 clone trooper armor,” the Mandalorian stated by way of explanation. They leaned forward menacingly. “Your bucket. Take. It. Off.”
Kix wasn’t sure what the big deal about his helmet was, but he couldn’t find an excuse that could appease a battle-hardened Mandalorian. He raised his hands placatingly before putting them on his bucket. A few strands of sweat dampened hair stuck to his forehead as he pulled it off, reminding him that it had been a fair amount of time since he had seen a proper ‘fresher.
The Mandalorian was silent, the dark visor on their own bucket probing as they took in his features. Kix was starting to sweat even more by the time they finally muttered, “So it’s true… the clone troopers aren’t extinct.”
Kix bristled at the tone the Mandalorian took when mentioning his brothers. It was a tone he’d learned was often used when discussing the clones, but it didn’t get any easier to hear. “And? What’s it to you?” He asked, trying to match the Mandalorian’s menacing persona.
The Mandalorian was quiet for a few extra moments; Kix was beginning to think it was their MO. He waited as patiently as he could before the Mandalorian sighed and reached up to remove their own bucket. “Truth be told, I already knew they weren’t extinct,” the uncovered mouth revealed.
Kix took a step back, shocked.
He was looking at a much older, paler, grumpier, scarred version of his own face.
Another clone? He thought with a rush of emotion. He almost allowed himself to hope before the Mandalorian frowned even deeper. “Don’t get too excited, clone. I’m not one of your fellow troopers.” He drew himself up to his full height and looked at Kix with an air of self-pride. “I am Boba Fett. My father was the bounty hunter Jango Fett. I assume you recognize his name?”
The genetic template for the entire GAR? The reason for Kix’s existence? Yeah, he recognized his name. He also recognized the name of the man in front of him, though what he’d heard of him had not exactly been pleasant.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of him, and of you,” Kix told him through gritted teeth, his grip tightening around his bucket. “As I recall, you made it very clear during the war that you were not one of us.”
“Because I wasn’t,” Boba stated firmly, the brown eyes that all clones shared blazing.
Keep telling yourself that, buddy, Kix thought with a barely restrained eye roll. “So if you’re not a clone or a trooper… what gives? Why approach me now?”
Boba finally seemed at a loss for words. His jaw worked as he took in Kix from head to toe once more before sighing. “I don’t know, I… I guess it’s just a relief to know that… my father’s legacy isn’t entirely gone. Not yet, at least.”
Is that an admittance? Kix wondered. Rather than voice that thought, though, he sighed and nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Boba,” He agreed, gazing at the face he thought he would only ever see again in a mirror.
The bounty hunter returned the nod. He looked like he wanted to say more, but was interrupted by the sound of Quiggold calling out. “Kix! The Captain was able to broker a deal,” The Gabdorin explained, sidling up to their little duo. “We’re expected to…” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Boba, the Mandalorian fixing him with a scathing glare. Quiggold’s tiny eyes blinked rapidly before his wide mouth split into an even wider smile. “Well, put a saddle on me and call me a rancor! You actually found another clone!”
“Not a clone,” Both men corrected him. As Quiggold spluttered from embarrassment, they looked at each other in surprise before breaking out into twin smirks. They may not both identify as clones, but at least they were able to reach some kind of understanding.
3. A Sister
It was during another break between their exploits. They were helping themselves to the local cuisine of a small planet, whose natives were very welcoming and didn’t seem to mind that they were pirates. Their trusting nature honestly worried Kix, and he took it upon himself to keep a close eye on the crew to ensure they didn’t take advantage of their hosts’ kindness.
Like usual, Kix was sitting off to the side, away from the crew. He was getting along better with the crew members, but he just couldn’t seem to gel completely with their law free nature. He honestly doubted that he ever would, a fact he was perfectly fine with. With a plate of food in his hand and fireworks of exotic flavors in his mouth, he was as content as he could be.
“Um, excuse me, sir… but are you a clone, by any chance?”
By this point, Kix was used to people coming up to him when he was by himself, so he didn’t even blink when he turned to address his new company. When he saw who it was, though, he did have to blink to clear his vision.
He was looking at his own face.
Well, sort of his own face. The one in front of him was older, with laugh lines around the eyes and mouth. The lips were softer than those he’d seen on brothers, and the head was topped with streaked blonde hair instead of black.
Also, it was attached to a female body.
“Um… yes?” He said cautiously, not daring to jump to conclusions. “Can I help you?”
The woman gasped with delight, her hand coming up to press against her heart. “I knew it!” She declared, then tried to backpedal. “Actually, I only kind of knew it. I didn’t want to believe it at first - it’s just been so long since I’ve seen someone with your face, and so young, too! It’s almost unbelievable.”
Understatement of the galaxy, Kix thought ruefully. The truth behind his apparent youth was not one he thought anyone would envy.
The woman seemed to realize something, her face turning apologetic. “Oh, I’m sorry! I haven’t introduced myself!” She declared, offering her hand. “I’m Omega! And believe it or not, I’m actually a clone, as well!”
Kix stiffened in surprise before he slowly placed his hand in hers. “You… are?”
The woman, Omega, smiled as if they were sharing an inside secret. “Mhm! I wasn’t given the accelerated aging gene like the other clones, so I never saw combat during the Clone Wars, but I was created from Jango Fett’s genetic template just like the troopers,” She explained, giving his hand a few enthusiastic pumps before letting go.
Kix smiled weakly, hardly believing this was happening. “I… didn’t know there were female clones,” He admitted. It was true - to his knowledge, the Kaminoans had only created male clones, since Jango Fett was also a male.
“Trust me, I thought I was the only female clone,” Omega agreed. “But as it turns out, I wasn’t. There were actually a handful of female clones created! Though from my understanding, they were only allowed to take positions like tacticians and medics.” She sucked her teeth in annoyance. “Such a waste, if you ask me.”
Kix finally allowed himself a real smile. “Hey, I’m a medic,” He jested. “So watch your mouth.”
“You are?” Omega asked excitedly, taking the information as her cue to sit down next to him. “What’s your name? And what battalion were you in?”
“Kix, and I was in the 501st,” He told her, offering his plate. What little hunger he had left had been replaced with excitement at the prospect of a new (alive) family member.
Omega gasped as she graciously took a piece of his proffered food. “No way! That means you knew Captain Rex and Echo!” She realized.
“Ah, those are two names I haven’t heard in a while,” Kix said wistfully, using every fiber of his being to refrain from coating his words in sadness. It really had been a while. “Though last I’d heard from Echo, he’d left the 501st to join the…”
“The Bad Batch,” Omega supplied with a knowing grin. “Yep - that’s my family!”
Kix did a double take. “The Bad Batch raised you?” He asked incredulously. At Omega’s answering nod, he blew air through his lips. “I was only involved with them for one mission, but from what I saw, raising kids wasn’t exactly their expertise.” Another memory crossed his mind and he winced. “And no offense, but I wasn’t on the best terms with that Crosshair guy.”
Omega only nodded again. “None taken. He made more enemies than friends as a trooper,” She agreed.
Kix laughed slightly before a more somber question came to mind. “The Bad Batch,” He ventured carefully. “Are they…?”
Omega’s face took a look of sadness. “I’m sorry… the last member passed away a few years ago,” She told him softly. “To be honest, I thought I was the last of the clones until I saw you.”
“I thought the same,” Kix agreed, taking in the features he had seen on so many brothers, just not a sister.
“I think about them everyday,” Omega admitted, taking another piece of food and staring at it as if she could see the members of her family in its surface. “They taught me everything they knew. How to use a blaster, how to repair multiple mechanisms, how to defend myself, and more importantly, how to fly.” Her tone started to gain strength once more as she popped the piece in her mouth and continued. “I was actually a pilot for the Rebellion, you know. I was even active during the Battle of Endor, when the Empire fell!”
“Really? That is impressive!” Kix replied, secretly proud that a member of his family had had a hand in the decisive victory, small as that hand was. “Are you still a pilot, or…?”
“Oh, the battle’s not over yet,” Omega told him, her tone becoming serious. She looked towards the sky with her jaw set and her gaze like durasteel. It almost made Kix cry with how familiar it was. “The Empire’s not gone - another wave called the First Order has been rearing its ugly head lately. They’re trying to pick up where the Empire left off.” She smirked defiantly towards the stars. “If they think they can take back the galaxy we fought so hard to liberate, they have another thing coming!”
She looked back at Kix and smiled the largest smile he had seen yet. “I may be over 60, but I still have more than enough fight left in me!” She assured him. She rolled up her sleeve and flexed, adding a confident wink to the mix. “Trust me, the galaxy is in good hands!”
The idea of the tyrannical Empire coming back in any form made Kix more than a little uneasy. Looking at Omega’s bright and open face, however, he let himself believe that it was all going to be okay. “If you were raised by the Bad Batch, I have no doubt about that, Omega,” He told her truthfully.
Omega rolled her sleeve back down and winced, looking embarrassed at her little outburst. “What about you?” She asked him, taking another piece off his plate. “With the Clone Wars long over, what have you been up to?”
“I met some…” Kix started to explain, flinching when Squeaky laughed a little too loud not far from them. “Traveling companions,” He finished with a grimace.
Omega smirked as she took notice of the crew. “Pirates?” She clarified, amused.
“It was my only choice at the time,” Kix told her dejectedly.
Omega only laughed and helped herself to another piece of food; the plate was almost empty. “I knew a few pirates during my travels as well,” She revealed wistfully. “If these pirates are anything like the ones I’ve met, then I’d say you’re in good company.”
“They haven’t done anything too bad yet, so I’d like to agree with you,” Kix acquiesced, sighing. “There’s still time, though.”
Omega laughed again before patting his arm and standing up. “Alright, I’d better get going,” She said, sounding reluctant. “We only stopped here for a supply run - the others are probably wondering where I am.” Her brown eyes, so much like her brothers’, gazed down warmly at him. “It was nice meeting you, Kix.”
“Nice meeting you too, Omega,” Kix agreed with a nod. Before she got too far, however, he called out to her, “Hey - do you think we can see each other again? It’s nice catching up with family.”
Omega paused before looking over her shoulder with a grin. “I’m a pilot and you’re a pirate,” She told him. “I’m sure our paths will cross again someday.” With that, she continued her trek back to her ship and her crew.
Kix smiled after her, his nearly empty plate clasped between his hands. I’m not the only one, He couldn’t help reminding himself, still hardly believing their interaction had happened. I’m not the last one.
4. A Captain
It was during one of their exploits. Crimson Corshair had caught wind of an large treasure on a distant planet in the Outer Rim, a treasure that many collectors would pay big credits to have. It was too big of a payoff to pass up, so the crew readily took up the challenge. They located the planet, landed, and started asking the natives about the treasure, trying to find a lead to its location.
But all the natives would give them were warnings. They warned them not to look for the treasure, that it was protected by a group of guardians that would not be kind to those who tried to take it. When asked to elaborate about these “guardians”, the natives admitted that none had ever seen them and lived to tell the tale. All they would say was that the guardians had always protected the galaxy and would always protect the various culture of its people. “If you are idiotic enough to anger them,” They were cautioned. “Place your spoils on the ground in front of you, bow your head, and pray that they will show you mercy.”
Kix had quickly learned, though, that Crimson Corshair’s pirate crew was not one to be deterred. After finding at least one trader on the planet that wasn’t so easily scared off by tales of the treasure, they were able to find a general location of where the treasure may be. And after much searching and searching, and digging and digging, by all the stars, they were able to find it.
It was such a large find that even Kix was excited that they had found it. They were so caught up in the discovery that they forgot all about the native’s warnings. They removed the treasure from its resting place and brought it back to their ship, ready to bring it off world so they could deliver it to the highest bidder.
But the ship wouldn’t start.
And then the sound started.
It sounded like hundreds - no, thousands of pairs of feet hitting the ground, marching, steadily growing stronger as it got closer. It got to the point that nearly everything in the ship started to rattle. Corshair yelled at Reveth to get the ship in the air, but she only yelled back that everything was offline and nothing she did was getting it to start. It seemed that the natives’ warnings were true and the crew was about to face justice for their crime.
Well, if the warnings about the guardians were true, perhaps the advice on how to evade them was also true. Kix quickly gathered the treasure into one pile in the center of the ship and lowered himself to the floor, pressing his forehead to the cold durasteel and yelling for the others to do the same. His order was met with several noises of indignation, but it was clear as the sound got closer that they had no other option, and they quickly mirrored his stance.
The sound increased steadily until it sounded as though it was right outside the ship, then stopped. Then came the sound of someone (or something) knocking on the hatch door. Kix couldn’t bring himself to answer it, and from the hollow sound of it, no one else could, either.
So then came the sound of the hatch door blowing open on its own.
Everyone flinched, but no one dared to raise their heads. They stayed silent as the sound of someone entering the ship echoed throughout the small enclosure. They stayed silent as the foot entered the space where they were all bowing. They stayed silent as the footsteps paused and then started moving again.
Kix flinched when he realized they were coming for him.
He stayed as still as possible as the guardian stopped in front of his folded form, then went quiet. He stayed still as he waited for his end to come in the form of a spear, or a knife, or a blaster, or a combination of the three as a very creative punishment. But it never came.
Instead came the single breathed word, “Brother.”
If Kix was still before, he was a statue now. He knew that voice - it was the same as his own. He cautiously lifted his head. He knew those boots - he’d once worn a similar pair. His head lifted further. He knew those Kama and those blasters - he’d once seen them on the battlefield, flared and fired with an unmatched ferocity. Even higher. He knew that shade of blue - it had decorated his own armor once. Even higher.
Of course they would be the guardians. They had sworn to protect the galaxy, and being dead would not change that.
Of course they would be here. They had always been everywhere, for the people’s sake.
Of course they would send him. He had been one of the best, the one to look towards in any given situation.
Of course they would send…
“Captain?”
The soft question slipped out before he could stop it, but it was true. There he was, standing in front of him, his painted jaig-eyes on his bucket staring down sadly at Kix. His hands barely whispered as he reached up and slowly removed the armor, revealing shaved blonde hair and deep brown eyes that gazed at him with an even sadder expression.
It’s him. It’s really him. Captain Rex.
The captain Kix and the entire 501st would have followed into all hells possible slowly lowered himself until he was at Kix’s eye level. His bucket held in one hand, he reached out with the other to gently clasp Kix’s shoulder. A thousand explanations and even more apologies bubbled into his throat, choking him, but the look in Rex’s eyes told him that he already knew everything he wanted to say, and that he understood.
“I’m tired, sir,” Kix wept quietly. “I’m so tired of everything. I just want to go with you and the others. I just want to be done.” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he begged, “Please… please just take me with you…”
Rex gazed at him sympathetically, his hand still placed comfortingly on Kix’s shoulder. His head shook almost imperceptibly, though it was enough to dislodge even more tears from Kix’s eyes. He moved his hand from his shoulder to his neck, gently pulling Kix towards him until his lips ghosted his ear.
“It’s not your time yet, brother,” His captain told him, his words barely even a whisper. “Keep marching, trooper - we’ll be waiting for you at the end.”
Rex pulled back to look at Kix again. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. None in the 501st could ever say no to Rex.
His captain gave his shoulder one last encouraging squeeze before he got to his feet. He gave Kix a sad smile, then put his bucket back on and gave him a salute. Tears still falling and hands still shaking, Kix weakly returned the salute before Rex turned on his heel and exited the ship.
It was only after he was out of sight that Kix realized he had somehow taken the treasure with him.
Curiosity pushed him to his feet and caused him to hurry after Rex. He left the crew, still in their bowed positions, and hurried towards the hatch door, wanting to at least watch his captain as he left.
Once he got to the threshold, he had to pause.
There, waiting patiently outside the ship, were his brothers. Rows upon rows of clones standing at parade rest, wearing armor of every type. Phase 1, Phase 2, pilot, SCUBA, galactic marines… they were all there, a beautiful proud rainbow of martial strength. He could see the bright blue of the 501st, the golden orange of the 212th, the bold red of the Coruscant Guard, the dusty gray of the 104th, or Wolf Pack, and he could even make out the dark armor of the Bad Batch.
They were all there. Doing as they always did.
As soon as Rex rejoined their ranks, the entirety of the GAR turned on their heels and started marching away, the sound of their feet a magnificent drum that spoke of bravery and courage. Kix longed to rush after them, to join their ranks as well, but Rex’s words kept him in the threshold of the ship. It wasn’t his time, he’d told him, and that he still had work to do. Though when it was time, he had the feeling that he would be welcomed into their ranks with open arms.
Eventually, the marching started to fade and his brothers started to disappear from sight. One by one, they marched on and vanished into the sky beyond.
Back into the galaxy they always did and always would protect.
Kix later made Corshair promise to leave treasures of cultural significance alone. Now that he knew for sure that his brothers’ eyes were on him, he wanted to make sure he did them proud.
+1. A General
In retrospect, Kix probably should have seen it coming. With all of the familiar faces he had been seeing during his travels, it only made sense that he would also want to make an appearance.
Didn’t make the encounter any less painful.
It was after one of their exploits. Kix was on his own in the makeshift med bay of the ship, cleaning and doing maintenance on his various tools. He may not be completely comfortable living and traveling with a bunch of pirates, but he certainly doesn’t want them to die from filthy equipment. His morals as a medic would be called into question.
“Kix.”
His hands stilled. It was a voice Kix hadn’t heard in a long time and thought he would never hear again. A voice that had offered him what solace it could when he lost a brother during battle or on the table. A voice that had pushed him to do his best even when the going got tough. A voice that had called to him from across the battlefield, alerting him to a downed brother.
A voice I still don’t want to hear, Kix decided, clenching his jaw and getting back to work, hoping his new audience would get the message and leave.
“Kix,” The voice tried again. He stifled a groan. So much for hoping. “It’s… been a long time.”
Kix didn’t want to hear it. He kept his head down and kept working on his tools.
“Kix… I’m sorry.”
Oh, that kriffing does it.
“Don’t,” Kix burst out, feeling the residual shock of his audience. “Just… don’t. The last person I want sympathy from is you.”
The second party seemed to struggle for a moment before they tried again, firmer. “Kix, just listen…”
“No, I don’t want to hear it!” Kix yelled. He decided to put his tools down, unwilling to break his instruments during his much needed outburst. This was a long time coming - he needed to get this out.
“I heard the stories, you know,” He started, clenching his fists, barely keeping his emotions in check. “The stories about you… what you did… what you became…”
“Kix…”
“The stories about how you turned against the Jedi - your own people!” He continued through gritted teeth. “You slaughtered them all… had them hunted down like animals! And my brothers… you roped them into your mess… didn’t even give them a choice…”
“That was-”
“My brothers turned against the very people they were sworn to protect!” Kix cried, not caring for his excuses. “They didn’t even realize they were doing it… we were all taught that ‘good soldiers follow orders’, but those teachings became our downfall… and that of the Republic… the very Republic you were sworn to protect!”
“I didn’t-”
“Yes, I know the truth of what happened to them, but what good does it do them now? They were still turned into mindless droids and forced to shoot down their allies! And you… you helped them. You chose to follow him. You chose to listen to him. As a result, everything we ever knew, everything we fought and died for, was for nothing!
“All because of your choice,” He seethed, his fists rock hard in his lap. “One decision, one wrong choice… cost us everything.”
“Kix…” Came the voice, a silent plea. It was so pathetic, it made him furious.
“GET OUT, SKYWALKER!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
The shock of the second party was almost palpable. Kix was left shaking and seething into the quiet. If he still had his tools in his hands, they would’ve been piles of debris by now.
Luckily his audience seemed to finally got the gist that he wasn’t open for discussion and fell silent. Once he was sure he was once again alone, he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to fall apart.
—————
Kix deserves closure.
That’s all I have to say.
(BTW, bonus points for any Netflix fans who recognize the movie scene that inspired Kix and Rex’s scene.)
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