Permanent Change of Station- Wrecker
AO3 Link
Rating: Safe
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, harassment, sprains, broken bones, regs are jerks here | Notes: Female OC, third person, past tense
1187 words
I’ve had this finished for a while but kinda forgot about it until now. This is the first in a series of vignettes about how Ionne first met everybody or got to know them. I think Tech will be next.
No relationship, neutral/platonic
Ionne makes it to Kamino to start her assignment with Clone Force 99 and already finds trouble.
Ionne stepped out of the troop shuttle and into hangar C on Kamino, keeping her head down and not looking around too much. This place was full of ghosts too, and although it wasn’t where Fives died, it still felt wrong to be here.
It didn’t take long for her to gather her few remaining possessions from the droids in the cargo bay. With an oversized duffel bag on either shoulder and her medic’s pack on her back over her armor, Ionne moved to the side of the connecting hallway and checked her comm again for her instructions from General Tii.
Greetings Ms Caresh.
I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this assignment with Clone Force 99; they have gone far too long without a medic. The men’s barracks are in area H, sub-hall B, room number 8. Your quarters are one door down on the right, that being room number 9. You will have your own refresher and shower, though your rooms are connected by a lockable door.
Good luck and may the Force be with you.
Ionne sighed heavily and tucked the comm back into a pocket. She wasn’t sure what to expect, now that she was here, but she knew the squad was currently out on a mission. Hopefully, she thought, her first night here would be a quiet one.
As she moved through the halls, glancing around in an attempt to find her way, all of the identical, interested faces (some with a specific kind of interest) staring at her were grating on her nerves.
Overwhelmed by how populous and sprawling the place was, her already low energy shrank with each step, and her patience was not far behind it. When she heard another loud wolf-whistle aimed in her direction, she stopped short and turned on her heel towards the sound. She found three clones, fresh out of the academy, if their shiny new armor was any indication. Ionne held back an irritated growl and took a few steps towards them, guessing that the man looking panicked was the one who had whistled at her. The other two were laughing at him.
“Well, you got her attention, now what?” one of the men said. The whistler stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. When he didn’t speak, Ionne raised an annoyed eyebrow at the group. Another man stepped forward and spoke instead.
“You’ll have to forgive my brother, we call him Freeze for a reason. I’m Dash,” he said, his tone cocky as he extended his hand.
“Caresh,” Ionne said, giving only her last name, and not offering her own hand. Dash seemed undeterred and kept talking.
“So what’s a lady like you doing in a place like this?”
“I’ve been assigned here,” she said, keeping her tone neutral as best as she could.
“Ooh, nobody told us we were getting bunk bunnies! Cute costume, it almost looks like real armor,” the third clone said.
“This is area H, right?” Ionne said, not acknowledging him.
“Yeah. Who’s the lucky unit that gets you?” Dash said, a smirk on his face. Ionne ignored this too.
“They’re in sub-hall B, I’m looking for number 8.”
“Really? The freaks?” The third man said, both surprised and disgusted. Dash pulled a sour face and shook his head.
“You don’t want to be stuck with them,” he said, then the smirk returned as he leaned in closer to her. “We’ll take better care of you.”
“Not interested,” she said flatly, then turned around to leave. Before she could take a single step forward, however, Dash reached out and caught her elbow.
“Aw, don’t be like that baby,” he said. Ionne whipped her head back toward the group.
“I said ‘no’,” she said, then tried to free herself from Dash’s grip. He tightened his hold on her, his smirk darkening into a scowl.
“Don’t be such a bitch,” he said, then tried to drag her closer to him. Ionne sighed heavily.
“Seriously? Let me go,” she said, sounding tired.
“What are you going to do about it, precious?”
Resigned, Ionne dropped her duffel bags, freeing her hands.
”Good girl,” Dash purred, smirking again, before turning back toward the others. “Now-,” he started, but didn’t get a chance to finish.
Once he turned his back on her, Ionne was able to quickly turn and push her shoulder into him before using his weight and grip on her against him; she flipped him over and onto the floor. He was surprised for just a second before rage took over, and when he let her go to try and strike up at her, she caught him by the wrist. With a sudden jerk of her own wrist, there was an audible popping sound, followed by a howl of pain. She released the man and he scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily. He took a step towards her, but Freeze held him back.
“Come on Dash, let it go,” he said, obviously nervous. Dash wrenched himself out of his brother's grip with a snarl.
“Not until this whore tells me who the fuck she is!” He spits, then lunges at Ionne.
She side-steps him easily, trips him, and when he hits the floor again, chest down this time, she grabs his same wrist and twists it up and behind his back, making him cry out.
“I’m a fucking combat medic,” Ionne said, her voice deathly calm, though loud enough for the small crowd that had gathered around to hear. “Which means I can break all of the bones in your body while naming them. I think I’ll start with your radius and ulna,” she continued, then twisted her hand. Dash’s wrist made another loud snapping sound, then Ionne abruptly let him go. He scrambled to his feet, his wrist held awkwardly against his chest, shot her a final glare, and stormed away, the onlookers quickly dissipating not long after.
Ionne huffed and shook her head, dusting herself off. She then went to pick up her duffel bags, but found that someone had beaten her to it. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice caught in her throat when she noticed how big he was. She had to crane her neck back to see his face. A bald, scarred head and wide grin greeted her. She immediately recognized Wrecker from the files on Clone Force 99 she had been given.
“Damn Regs. You alright?” Wrecker asked. His voice was gravelly and deep; everything about the guy was intimidating. Ionne stuttered in surprise for a moment before shaking herself and nodding. “And him? You break his wrist?” Wrecker continued, squinting down the hall toward where Dash had retreated.
“Dislocated, to help get the point across. I thought you were supposed to be on a mission, what are you doing here?”
Wrecker laughed in a booming voice that made Ionne flinch and her ears ring.
“Nah, we finished that two days ago! C’mon, I’ll take ya to your room.”
Ionne, taken aback by, well, everything, followed him, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides.
Taglist: skipping for now