The Lucky Batchâïž
This is pretty overdue, but hereâs Jackâs backstory. Hope you enjoy!
Tw: physical abuse, mentions of blood
(Also, quick reminder, Jackâs CT number is CT-0123)
Jack of all trades
âAim!â
Cadet 0123 raised his blaster. It was shaking strangely, but that probably had something to do with his hands and their inability to keep still in situations like this. It was pretty hard for a cadet to keep a cool head today, as the scouts were watching for the exemplary young troopers or the best of the best of the best, as the instructor said. Today was the final day of his testing- the precision test. But Cadet-0123 knew he could pass. He could feel it. His eyes met the target- a line of super battle droids, adjusted to fit the GARâs needs. He could shoot this with no problem. He could do this. He could-
âFIRE!â
The sounds of gunfire echoed through the room. Every cadet had fired their gun. Except for Cadet-0123. Frozen with fear, he clutched his blaster as the menacing grey mass of pure metal drew nearer and nearer, its steps punctuated with a deep, sonorous clank. âCADET!â the instructor barked âWHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? SHOOT IT!â Closer and closer the droid came, and Cadet-0123 squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers shaking as they inched towards the trigger. âCADET!â The roar reverberated around the hall, making the cadet jump. CLANG. The droid lay a meter away, a glowing hole in its chest. Cadet-0123 looked down at his smoking firearm in amazement. The other cadets exchanged perplexed glances as Cadet-0123 made his way to the base of the surveillance platforms where the others stood waiting. The instructor gathered the young clones in, still shocked from their complete success against the droids. âYou did well, soldiers. Thereâs still a way to go, but you have all proven yourself skilled and calm in the face of dangerâ Cadet-0123 suddenly felt the eyes of the other cadets on him. The instructor continued to talk about the glory of fighting in the grand army of the republic, and how they would value men like them. A scoff sound came from the cadet standing next to Cadet-0123, which the instructor seemed to ignore. Eventually, the cadets were dismissed, and they went off in their little groups, chatting eagerly amongst themselves about how they defeated their battle droid in two shots or three but from a distance. Everyone except Cadet-0123. Alone, he trailed behind the group, watching as his brothers laughed and cheered each other. A little part of him had hoped someone would turn around and say to him âGood job out there!â or at least âNot bad!â. The latter was more likely, as whenever Cadet-0123 did something that didnât blow up in his face, the instructor would always say that. But however much he wished, that would never happen. Never from his brothers.
As the cadets reached their bunk, the conversation turned to Cadet-0123. âSo, what did you think of 0123âs performance?â Cadet-1356 asked with a smirk. âWell, at least we donât have to worry about him,â Cadet-1204 responded darkly. âDid you see him with his eyes scrunched up like he was fresh out the tube?â âOr how he shot the droid at super close range? How much you wanna bet that was a fluke?â âHe doesnât know jack about how to be a soldierâ A small silhouette emerged from the doorway, trying to flee, but Cadet-1356 grabbed him by the arm. âHey boys, look! Itâs our hero, 0123. Oh, and look at that, heâs crying!â The cadets circled Cadet-0123, sneering as they drew closer. âWhat a soldier! I wonder if he can take a hit,â one jeered as he drew his arm back and released it with all of his might. And one by one, the others followed suit, jabbing Cadet-0123 wherever they could reach. They moved as a horde, laughing in unison at the cries of their brother. One of them stepped away from the group, staring sardonically at Cadet-0123 as he knelt next to him. Through the blur of pain, and the echoes of cruel laughter ripping through the young cadetâs head, he could faintly hear the voice of a full-grown. âHave any of you seen Cadet-0123? I want to speak with him.â He was getting closer⊠âNo, sir. We havenât seen himâ The pounding footsteps faded into the distance. There was no one to help him.
âFIGHT BACK!â
âI donât think he can.â
âOf course he canât. Heâs too subpar for that.â
âI swear, heâs hopelessâ
Cadet-0123 couldnât remember anything else after that.
The next day, the scores of the testing were released, and to everyoneâs surprise, Cadet-0123 was not at the bottom, but rather in the middle. He felt the eyes of everyone burn into him, and the bruises from the night before ached, but he felt better than he ever felt before. He had proven himself not to be a mere defection. But his brothers only saw a threat. Their mediocre brother, better than some of their proclaimed âsquadronâ members? Every night, they tested him to the brink of agony, to see how much he could take. Despite that,the yells of Cadet-0123 did not go unnoticed. One particular night, he managed to free himself from his brothersâ grasp and run, not knowing where to. He felt the blood drip down from his nose, which seemed a different shape completely. In the stark hallway, he sat alone. Until 99. The janitor clone was just cleaning the hallway at the time, and he saw a small, sniffling child covered in bruises curled up against a wall. âHey there,â he whispered gently, âare you alright?â. The young clone looked up, his big eyes shining with tears. 99 gasped and said in dismay âOh, oh, donât you cry. Iâll take you to where youâre meant to be, and itâll all be fine.â The cadet scrambled to his feet. âNo. Please donât take me back, sir. Please!â The old janitor outstretched his wrinkled hand and smiled. Not another word was spoken as they walked to a private medbay, where 99 cleaned Cadet-0123âs wounds and kept his spirits up as he did so.
From that day on, 99 kept Cadet-0123 in his sights, and taught him all he knew. Over time (and through many painful attempts) Cadet- 0123 learned how to basically reconfigure a frequency, fly a ship at a passable level, hand to hand combat (at the basic level, of course), and learned how to speak an adequate level of a few languages ( Mandoâa, Huttese and Aqualish). He became what 99 called a jack of all trades, a master of none. As he grew, CT-0123 developed more and more skills, like sniping, grenade making ( he enjoyed that one very much) and baking. It was odd, but after a gruelling day of training, a warm brownie was all he needed. One day, 99 came up to CT-0123 and told him of a squadron that was recruiting for new team members- clone force 37. 99 handed him the pamphlet, which had a shoddy hand-drawn picture of a three-leafed clover, which from 99âs botany classes he recognised as a trefoil, even though trefoils werenât usually turquoise and peppered with stickers. Below the drawing, the words âTHE LUCKY BATCHâ was written in all caps. There was no other information on the flimsi apart from a small note on the back, which read: âtraining room, 23:00, be there :) â The smiley face must be a sign of professionalism, CT-0123 thought.
At 23:00 on the dot, CT-0123 stood at the main entrance of the training room, nearly bouncing up and down in excitement, ready to try his hardest to make this squad accept him. He was just about the training room when he heard footsteps draw closer, and remembered his former cadet roommates, and he froze, his eyes dilated in panic. What if they wanted to join the squad too? As the footsteps creators came into view, CT-0123âs jaw dropped under his second-hand helmet. Seven clones strutted around the corner, one slightly stumbling along as he attempted to keep up. They were clad in turquoise armour, with a familiar-looking flower painted on the chest. They also had patterned gauntlets and various stickers plastered on them, but that made them even cooler in CT-0123âs eyes. âSo, whereâs everyone else?â said the one in the centre. âI donât know sir,â CT-0123 respondedâI like your skirt, sir.â The one in the centre took a deep breath and said sullenly âItâs not a skirt, itâs a kama.â He sounded like he had to say that a lot. âRight. So youâre the only one? Thatâs greatâ another member of the group said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Not detecting the hostility, CT-0123 took off his helmet and beamed at the troop of sticker-wearing soldiers. âAfter you all, then!â
Together they sat at the base of a sniper tower, looking eagerly at the clone who seemed so desperate to join in. âSo, whatâs your name? Iâm Pepper, by the way, and thatâs captain Raffle, the captain or whatnot, thatâs Ballast, the mechanics guy, thereâs Ryder, the weapons guy, thereâs Foxy, the sniper (heâs kind of mean sometimes, so pay no attention to him), Boots, the guns guy and Thumbs, the therapist. We also have some Jedi friends, but theyâre not here right now, but theyâre pretty cool. Oh, and we also have a gonk droid that hates me called Goose. â CT-0123 took a deep breath and said awkwardly âIâm CT-0123.â the group exchanged confused glances, and the one the others called Thumbs inched towards him, looking curious âThatâs it?â he asked, and CT-0123 nodded glumly in response. âYou know what, weâll come up with a name for you,â said the mechanic, Ballast, cheerfully âWhat are you good at?â âWell,â CT-0123 mused âIâm kind of good at a lot of things. I can blow stuff up, fight stuff, shoot stuff, dance, speak in different languages and I recently learned how to bake, but I donât know how thatâll help with giving me a nameâ The captain stood up and made his way to CT-0123, and said â You sound like a jack of all trades to me. You could be a valuable asset to our squad, you know.â âWait!â the medic cried out, ââJack of all trades! Your name could be-â âTrades!â âWhat? No. Jack! Your name could be Jack! Man, you make it painstakingly obvious why you never picked a name for yourself.â CT-0123 screwed his face up in thought and nodded âYeah. I like Jack.â âAlright, Jack! Welcome to the team.â âWait, do I have to do a test or something?â The crew looked at each other and burst out laughing. âNah, too much work,â The captain said dismissively, â Besides, you seem lucky enough to be one of us.â And together the team marched down the halls, and this time, Jack marched alongside them. He now had a name, a family, a home. Something told him he wouldnât ever feel alone anymore.
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