Nebula posts selfies of himself hanging out and goofing off with his men.
Jax posts dumb selfies, memes, and pictures and videos of his men goofing off and doing everyday things. He also starts drama with any influencer who bashes clones.
Blazer posts pictures of sunsets and stuff like that, but he also posts pictures and videos of explosions, and roasts Jax.
Indy literally only posts pictures of “his kids” (Fuse’s squad) because this man is a DAD.
Fuse honestly doesn’t post much. He he just shares Indy’s posts and ghosts everyone who tries to talk to him on there.
Patch usually posts nice pictures of nature, inspirational quotes and advice (legitimately helpful stuff, not cheesy things), and probably posts some first-aid advice because there cannot be too much of that for his non-medic brothers.
Dek and Ollie have a shared account that’s literally all memes, prank and joke videos, and just completely random stuff they do.
Error doesn’t have social media because he doesn’t see the point.
Void can’t use digital devices for long at all due to his light sensitivity, so he doesn’t have social media.
Chance probably just posts memes and maybe the odd video of a group of his brothers singing.
Spectrum posts pictures of things he’s painted. He has quite the following.
Flak doesn’t post much, usually just shares Spectrum’s posts, shares some of the twins’ stuff, and logs off for a week straight.
Blue posts videos and pictures of everyday stuff like naps in the barracks, lunch in the mess hall, target practice, armor painting, etc.
Twitch doesn’t have social media because it makes him anxious.
Zipper posts the most crackhead-type things. Videos and pictures of his squad being spazzy, blurry selfies, not-so-blurry selfies while making a silly face, etc. And he never uses a caption.
Impulse posts a lot of similar things to Zipper, but usually with captions like “my bros” “feeling silly today”
Glitch (he’s kind-of-but-not-really my boy, since he’s a canon clone I decided to basically adopt when canon wasn’t kind to him). Glitch posts the most obscure, off-the-wall things that make almost no sense at all, but at the same time make a lot of sense (think those “math is red,” “Friday is orange” things).
Finally actually wrote something to go along with this art so I can post it! I’m super proud of how this drawing came out, so I felt like I should write a little something to go along with it. Enjoy some Jax being chaos incarnate, and a little bit with the 342nd’s crazy little astromech with an attitude.
Jax followed Nebula into the prison, Blazer and R5 close behind him. Indy and Fuse climbed out of the hole they had cut into the wall after R5, then Nebula replaced the piece of wall to hide their exit. “Good luck,” he whispered to Nebula and his brothers.
“No such thing as luck, Jax,” Nebula replied, grinning.
“Be careful,” Blazer said before he took off with the others, heading toward the prison hold.
Jax glanced down at R5. “Alright, buddy, let’s go cause some mayhem.” The astromech beeped happily in response as they hurried toward the transport’s central power.
Getting to the main power room was easy, but getting in and out would be the hard part. “Remember, no flamethrowers unless you don’t have another choice. You almost melted my armor last time.”
“Kark you, you were in the way!” R5 beeped angrily.
Jax shook his head. “Got the door unlocked?” R5 beeped in confirmation. Jax gave the droid a nod, then the door slid open. Grinning, Jax waltzed into the room, making the B1 droids spin to look. “G’day, metalheads! Or night, can’t really tell which. Anywho, I have a job to do, and you’re in my way,” he said cheerily before opening fire on the droids.
Duck, dodge, fire, dodge, duck, fire, fire again.
The guard droids went down quickly, so Jax turned to look at R5 before placing some explosives on the console. “You done yet?”
“Shut up, I’ll get it when I get it!” The lights went out, triggering the alarm system as the lights flickered back on. “Main power is down!”
“Good, now let’s move!” Jax started to run out the door, but nearly collided with a squad of commando droids. Ugh. Things can never be easy, can they?
“Oh, hello!” Jax said brightly before raising his pistols and blasting two droids’ heads off. He spun, dodging the blaster fire that erupted. “R5, GO!” He shouted, blasting another droid’s head off. A metal fist slammed into Jax’s visor, cracking it. Unable to see now, Jax quickly ripped his helmet off and threw it at a droid, not that it helped much.
A stray blaster bolt hit one of the explosives, so Jax shoved one pistol into its holster, kicked his way through the droids and dove out the door. He flipped head over heels on one hand as flames exploded out the door right behind him. More droids came running, he could hear them. Kark everything.
Back on his feet, Jax took off down the hall. The ship rocked with more explosions, triggered by the first one. He made it to the entry point and crashed into the shuttle.
“Jax is back, GO!”
“Jax!” Blazer was at his side in an instant, helping him sit up. “Jax, are you hurt? Where’s your helmet?”
“No, I’m alright. How many?” He looked up to locate whoever they had rescued.
“Three. Two from the 41st and one who won’t talk yet.”
Jax spotted the battered troopers, two of them huddled against each other and Indy, the third cradled in Fuse’s arms, although he was awake. “Injuries?”
“Nothing life-threatening, thank the Force. Some burns, cuts, and a couple broken bones,” Blazer replied. “Did you set off those explosives, by the way?”
Jax snorted. “Hardly. Commandos busted in on R5 and I, and a stray shot hit one of the explosives.”
Blazer blinked. “You’re lucky you didn’t get singed. Where’s your helmet? You still haven’t answered that.”
“Visor got shattered, so I used it as a weapon,” Jax stated.
“Of course you did,” Blazer huffed and rolled his eyes. “Di’kut.”
Kitsune after Obi-Wan and Cody both get injured being reckless maniacs for the 5th time in the past two weeks: I’ve reached the conclusion that either all human males are idiots who want to die, or I just have incredibly bad luck.
Nebula: Nah, I think they’re all just stupid. My entire battalion is a bunch of morons. I love them, but they’re morons.
@iironapple, I can’t reply to your comment on my post normally because this is my sideblog, but I still want to reply, so this is how I’m doing it, lol.
@iironapple‘s comment: “Aaaaa thanks for answering! And don’t worry it’s just a one time steal, Kama has the goal of snatching and collecting all Clone Commander, Captain and ARC Troopers’ Kamas as a personal goal of there’s. So sorry to Jax in advance....he’s gonna have to fight Kama to get it back lol”
Kama might not have an issue with Jax, but General Nebula might not be so pleased. He wouldn’t hurt Kama of course, but he’d probably steal Jax’s kama back (or at least try to). Nebula can’t usually get Jax’s stuff back when Jax gets captured by the Separatists, so a thief isn’t gonna keep Jax’s kama if Nebula can help it, lol.
Order 66 won’t be happening in my fic (not gonna explain how it’s avoided right now, obviously), but since I hit 66 followers, I decided to finish up this older ficlet for you guys. If Order 66 did happen in my fic, it would still end a little better than canon, but oof, it’s still way more tragic than the actual ending of my fic. Nebula and Patch need hugs after this, ouch.
You might be wondering “Hey, why didn’t Patch go all murder mode on Nebula when he was right there when the order was given?” I don’t really want to give it away here, but there is a reason. I kinda want to see if you guys can guess why Order 66 didn’t make Patch turn, but it made Jax, who is super close with Nebula, turn. I’ll give you all a hint: in my Patch fact dump, there’s a thing I mentioned involving nightmares. I want to hear your theories about Patch, guys!
—————
Patch was standing on the opposite side of the main console of the Loyalty when he saw General Nebula stagger, shaking his head as though he was trying to shake something off. “General?” Patch stepped around the console as the Jedi’s neck frill went white and his eyes widened, a distant, far away look on his face. “General?”
Behind him, Patch heard Jax answer a transmission. The Chancellor’s slimy voice spoke. “Commander Jax, the time has come. Execute Order 66.”
“Yes, my lord,” Jax replied in the most horrifying, emotionless voice Patch had ever heard.
Patch didn’t have time to question what that meant because he heard a blaster click and he knew without looking that he was in the line of fire. “General, run!” He shoved Nebula just as blaster fire erupted. Nebula ignited his lightsaber, but was obviously hesitant to use it for anything except deflecting blaster bolts.
Patch looked at Jax and saw nothing familiar in his brother’s face. All he saw was the desire to kill. “Jax! Jax, snap out of it! It’s me, Jax, come on!” Jax’s blaster aimed at Patch’s chest. Blazer had his blaster aimed at Patch too. Patch started backing away, feeling Nebula moving along with him. “Jax... It’s me. It’s Patch! Don’t do this. Whatever this Order 66 is, it’s wrong, Jax! Come on, brother, put the blaster down. Blazer, come on, bud. Put it down, redhead.”
“Move or be terminated with the traitor,” Jax ordered. No emotion. Flat. Expressionless. None of the emotion that was evident in every word that left Jax’s mouth.
“Traitor? Jax, General Nebula hasn’t done anything wrong. Surely you know that.”
“Move or be terminated,” Jax insisted.
Patch could barely breathe. How was this happening? Why hadn’t he turned too if Jax and Blazer had turned? “Jax! Blazer, come on! I can help you! We can figure out what’s going on, and it’ll be fine. Come on, please, don’t do this.”
“If you defend him, you are as bad as he is.” With that, Jax and Blazer opened fire. Patch expected to die. Only... he didn’t. Nebula had wrapped his tail around Patch’s wrist and dragged him out into the hall.
“Patch, MOVE!” Nebula shoved him forward.
Stumbling, tripping, Patch started running. “General, what’s happening?!”
“I don’t know, Patch, but whatever it is, it’s happening across the galaxy, so this isn’t isolated. We can’t stay here to figure it out, we need to get somewhere safe first.”
“Hangar?”
“Hangar,” Nebula agreed. “Put your blaster on stun mode, I don’t think we’re getting out of here without a fight.” Blaster fire rained down around them as they skidded around a corner, trying to outrun Jax and Blazer.
Patch had never fired a blaster at his brothers. That thought had only ever crossed his mind once, and that had been after Umbara when a platoon of 501st troopers had been tricked and ordered to attack a platoon of 212th troopers. The thought of shooting at his brothers now, despite using the stun setting instead of kill, made him sick to his stomach, but he obeyed his general’s order and set his pistol to stun mode.
“R5!” Nebula screeched before launching into an indecipherable string of Claesian screeches, hisses, and squeaks. The astromech understood and zipped across the hangar and into the closest ship. The blaster fire became almost overwhelming, but Patch kept running, following his General to the ship’s ramp.
Patch was almost up the ramp when pain ripped through his lower back, sending him crashing to the hangar floor. Nebula’s clawed feet appeared in his field of vision. “No. General, get out of here!” He’d been hit on the left side of his spine, so he likely had damage to multiple organs. “I won’t make it! G-go!” It didn’t matter if Nebula was determined to save him, he’d likely bleed out before they got somewhere safe enough for Nebula to tend to him.
“I am not leaving you here!” Nebula snarled before hauling Patch onto his back and bolting up the ramp. Patch fell to the floor and the pain made him sob. “Patch, hang in there until we jump to hyperspace, that’s an order,” Nebula said as his footsteps faded.
That might have been an order, but Patch wasn’t sure he could carry it out. He didn’t currently have the strength to move. Dying from a brother’s blaster... He sobbed, his body twitching with pain in response. This wasn’t how he thought he’d die. Out of all the possible deaths his mind had created over the course of the war, this had not been one of them. He didn’t want to die this way. He always thought he’d have Dek, Ollie, or Jax by his side, but now all his brothers were actively trying to kill him. One of them had pretty much succeeded already.
The ship suddenly jolted, making Patch cry out when the pain exploded up his back into his shoulders and down into his legs. After a few more agonizing moments, General Nebula spoke. “Okay, Patch, let’s see what we can do here.”
“I don’t want to die!” The wail had escaped him before he even realized what he was saying. But he found he meant every word of it. “I don’t want to die, General! Please, I don’t want to die!”
“And you won’t, Patch. I’m gonna get you fixed up, then we’ll go to my homeworld and the healers there will take care of you. Just keep breathing.” Nebula sounded like he was barely containing his worry. He moved Patch slightly, but somehow it didn’t hurt horribly. “I’m going to numb you from the shoulders down, so don’t panic on me,” Nebula murmured before Patch felt something prick him near his spine. The effect was almost immediate. His pain dulled to a faint ache, which made his entire body relax. “There ya go... I’m gonna start working on getting you fixed up, just keep breathing and try to stay awake if you can. I’ll try to keep talking to help you stay awake.”
Patch found it to be an odd, unpleasant sensation to have Nebula operating on his back and side while he was still conscious. Of course, he was numb, so he wasn’t really feeling any pain, but he could still feel whenever Nebula applied pressure or released it. There was a sudden increase of pressure on his side that made him grunt in surprise.
“Sorry, Patch, just hang in there a bit longer. You’re doing great,” Nebula murmured as the pressure on his side abated. “You still with me?” Patch grunted again, too tired and lightheaded to want to speak. “Still not feeling any pain, right?” Another grunt. “Can you flex your right hand for me?” Patch had no idea what his hand had to do with his injured back, but he obeyed, flexing his hand. “I said right hand, Patch. I’m glad your left one is working, but flex your right one please.” Confused, Patch flexed his other hand. “There, that’s the hand I wanted. Thank you.” General Nebula was so confusing and Patch just wanted to sleep. “I know you’re tired, Patch, I know. Try to stay with me for a few more minutes.” Patch wanted to listen to Nebula, but his eyelids were so heavy. So, so heavy.
———
Nebula had only gone into the cockpit to make sure they were still on course and to see how much longer they had before coming out of hyperspace. He was checking the fuel level when he heard the moaning start. Long, low, moans of agony. “Take over, R5.” Racing to the back of the ship, he saw Patch still huddled on the floor against the wall in the nest of blankets Nebula had settled him into after fixing his damaged insides and bandaging him up. Except Patch had looked semi-comfortable earlier. Now, he was grinding his teeth and moaning as he lay curled up in the fetal position, sweat drenching his body and the surrounding blankets. His breathing was labored, each breath a forced gasp that was too shallow.
“Patch, easy... You’re safe, Patch, it’s alright,” Nebula murmured, trying to soothe the injured medic. Patch only moaned louder, his hands moving to clutch at his side. Nebula pulled the blankets back and pried Patch’s hands away from his bandaged wound. “I know you hurt, but you can’t be pressing on yourself like that, Patch. You’ll reopen it and make it worse.” Patch started crying, but didn’t wake up. “Come on, Patch, wake up for me. Wake up.” Nebula wrapped his tail around Patch’s right wrist so he could let go with his right hand, then he placed his hand on the medic’s sweaty forehead, feeling the steadily rising fever burning under the man’s skin. “Come on, wake up, Patch.”
Finally, the medic’s eyes opened. Then he suddenly lurched toward Nebula, nearly faceplanting onto the floor past his blanket nest before he vomited. The second he was done heaving, Patch went limp, wheezing and coughing. “S-sorry...” he choked out faintly.
“No, it’s okay. It’s okay, you just don’t feel good right now. Let’s get you comfortable again, then I’ll give you some medicine to bring your fever down.” Nebula gently shifted Patch onto his back, the trooper crying out in pain from the movement. “Sorry, Patch.” After tucking the blankets back around the medic’s body, he took out a dose of fever reducers and injected it into Patch’s exposed bicep. “There, your fever should go down soon. Think you can manage a few sips of water?”
“Wa’er?” Patch mumbled, sounding interested despite the glazed, fevered look in his eyes.
Nebula nodded as he took his small canteen off his belt. “Yeah, you thirsty?” He flipped the attached straw up, then put the canteen to Patch’s almost white lips. “Small sips, alright?” Patch drank slowly, but willingly for a few seconds, then pushed the straw away with his tongue, so Nebula took the canteen back. “All done?” Patch managed a weak nod. Nebula put the canteen back on his belt and turned his attention back to Patch. “Try to get some more sleep, Patch. You need to save your strength. Want me to help you along? You’ve watched me do it with Jax a few times.” Patch seemed to ponder the offer, then he nodded slightly. Nebula placed his palm on Patch’s forehead. “Good, now sleep.” Patch was out like a light.
Patch had been restless the past two hours, but he stayed asleep until he woke up crying. He tried to roll over or sit up, but either he was too weak or in too much pain because he couldn’t even lift his head off the blankets serving as a pillow. “Dek? Ollie?” He called timidly, sounding like he was on the verge of panic. “Dek? Ollie?” He called again as Nebula hurried to his side.
“Hey, Patch, what’s the matter? Do you need something?”
“Dek! Ollie!” He cried, seemingly ignoring or not hearing Nebula. “D-don’t leave me alone! Please! Please come back!”
He’s either hallucinating or he just thinks he’s alone because his brothers aren’t here. Nebula’s heart broke for Patch. The clones never really liked being isolated from their brothers, and Patch was no exception. He stayed with at least one of his brothers at all times, so being injured by one of them and forcibly separated from all of them was undoubtedly traumatic. Nebula didn’t know what to do. He could try to use the Force to pull Patch out of the hallucination, but then what? Make him go back to sleep? Being in reality means I can at least comfort him though. He placed his palm on Patch’s decidedly much cooler forehead. “Patch, come back to me.”
“General?” Patch squeaked in confusion, sounding frightened. Nebula could sense how weak the poor medic was. They still had two more hours before they reached their destination. Nebula wasn’t sure Patch could last two more hours.
“Yeah, I’m here, Patch, I’m here. You need something?”
Patch reached a shaky hand toward him, so Nebula grasped it with both of his own hands. “Stay.”
Nebula realized what Patch meant. He’s scared he’s going to die alone. “Okay, I’ll stay here until we come out of hyperspace, then I need to go help R5 land the ship.” He carefully made a spot for himself in the nest of blankets and settled against Patch’s side, feeling the trooper’s labored breaths. “You’re safe, Patch. We’ve only got a couple more hours before we reach a proper hospital.”
“Your sister?” Patch sounded worried. “What about her?”
To be honest, Nebula hadn’t really let himself think about Kitsune yet. Now that Patch had asked, terror threatened to swallow him whole. The 212th was a lethal battalion. Obi-Wan and Kit might be a deadly duo, but if they had been taken off guard like Nebula had...
He wanted to go speeding across the galaxy to find them. He didn’t want to keep waiting uselessly when they could be dying at this very moment. He wanted to spin the ship around to search for Kit and Obi-Wan. Instead, he settled a wing across Patch gently, adding to the layers keeping the medic warm. “I’ll go look for her once you’re safe. If I take off to find her now, I-“ He had to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. “I not only might lose her anyway, but I risk losing you when you’re right here and I know I can help you.”
“You’re risking— never seeing Kitsune again— f-for me?” Patch questioned between breaths. “I’m just— a clone. A d-dying clone, at that. You should find her b-before— it’s too l-late.”
Nebula wanted to see Kit again. He wanted to know she was okay, and to see her smile, hear her laugh, feel her curled up under his wing. He didn’t want to lose the only piece of his first family, however broken it was. Kit was his sister. His best friend. She was so much like their mother who she barely remembered. She deserved to have a future, and now she might not get a chance at one. But... she might already be dead, and Patch was alive and with Nebula. He could help Patch, but unless he found out where Kit was, he couldn’t find her in time anyway. Even then, he still likely wouldn’t make it to her. “You’re not just a clone, Patch. You’re my brother, and you are not dying today. You are not going to die, you hear me?” Water dripped off Nebula’s snout and he realized he was crying. He swallowed a sob, burying his muzzle in the blankets to hide the fact that he was upset. Patch didn’t need to know Nebula was upset. Patch needed him to be calm.
———
Patch had no idea how long it had been since he was last coherent, but his insides ached something awful. It was a minor pain compared to how badly he hurt before, but it was still incredibly uncomfortable. “Owww...” he muttered as he tried to shift how he was laying, only to make his body ache more.
“Hey, there you are, sleepyhead. Those drugs knocked you out good, huh?” Nebula’s voice greeted softly. “Don’t try to move, you’re in no condition to go anywhere right now anyway.”
“How long was I out?” Patch asked, opening his eyes to look at his General.
“Umm... well, you stopped being lucid about a day ago, but you were sedated probably nineteen hours ago. It’s been an... interesting nineteen hours, to put it mildly.” Patch’s vision cleared, and he saw how stressed, tired, and sad Nebula was.
“What happened? What about Kitsune? A-and the rest of our battalion?” Patch was afraid to know what happened.
Nebula sat heavily, his frill turning a dark blue with red around the edges, telling Patch that his Jedi was sad, but also pissed, which was never a good sign because it took a lot to make him angry. “Kit and Obi-Wan are alright, they escaped the 212th and are headed here to figure out what to do now. As for the rest of the 342nd... I can only assume they’re still searching for us. Jax isn’t stupid, so I have no doubt they’ll find us here. We have the entire Claesian military on high alert with orders to stun and disarm only should the rest of the battalion find us.” He paused to take a deep breath. “The Jedi are gone. I only know Kit and Obi-Wan survived, I know of no other survivors. There’s no way this was a willing betrayal, you know that probably better than I do.”
“Well, what do we do, General? I don’t want to lose my brothers because they’re being forced to do something they don’t want to do.” Patch pushed himself onto his elbows, ignoring his aching midsection and back.
“I know, Patch, but you need to rest. We’ll get the others back, I promise. We need to get you healed first, then we can help the others. While you’re healing, we’ll think of a plan and try to figure out what’s wrong, okay?” Nebula guided Patch back down, then placed his right hand over Patch’s left hand. “We’ll help our battalion first, then we’ll work on the others. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”
