#the alpha class

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

PACT

I’d really love to see some Alpha class content, so I’m sending you a few options, if that’s alright?

from the ways to say I Love You list:

11) checking your phone late at night and see them go online the moment you open their message (O’Niner/&any other Alpha) maybe he’s on Rishi?

or 23) adjusting the pace they walk in so you can walk comfortably together (Ninety-Nine & any other Alpha)

from the Casual Affection list:

taking a photo of the other smiling or in their element (Fordo/Seventeen)

Hope one of these sparks joy 🥰

I may end up doing the Fordo17 later but. These two are enough for now 😌

***

“It’s been a while since you’ve come here,” a creaking, battered voice says, behind Maze.

Maze turns, just slightly, and sighs. “Hello, Ninety-Nine.”

The hunched figure of his younger classmate makes his way over. “Su cuy gar, Maze.” The words sound unpractised. Probably, they are. The only other Alphas here regularly are Colt, Havoc, and Blitz, and it sounds like they’ve been avoiding Mando’a. And possibly Ninety-Nine.

The first isn’t surprising. A lot of the younger Alphas are the ones that disliked Bajir the most. Or...maybe less disliked and more felt betrayed and wanted more affection. Ninety-Nine and Spar were the favourites, after all, but the older of the Alphas were far more likely to also imprint on Spar’s particular brand of attachment to Bajir Fett’s culture. So many words they didn’t know spilled from his mouth, but eventually they got there. Ninety-Nine too.

That’s the difference between them and most of the younger classmates: it stopped being about Bajir Fett, even for the ones of their class that liked him, and it started being about Spar.

“How are you doing, Nini?” Maze asks fondly.

Ninety-Nine may appear old and weak, but he has sharp eyes and a sharp mind. “Twix,” he says, managing to get a sense of warning into his voice.

Maze smiles. “How is Kamino?”

A dark look passes over Ninety-Nine face, temporarily overshadowing his typically cheerful mask. “I hate it here.”

Maze grunts. “Kitchens?”

Ninety-Nine nods his ascent and the two begin to make their way to the kitchens. They’re maybe halfway through the labyrinth of halls before he says, “You’re doing it again.”

Maze makes a questioning noise.

“You all,” he pauses and grimaces, “most of you. You shorten your strides when you walk with me. I don’t need your pity.”

Maze sighs. “It’s not pity.”

“Then what is it?”

“Respect.” They turn the last hall to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t respect you. Just like how I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t respect you. The GAR is wasting you, here.”

Ninety-Nine gives him a look of deep suspicion. “Why are you here, Maze?”

“I want your eyes on something,” he admits easily. “I can’t take you out of here...but I can at least get your advice on some of the nonsense I’m doing from Coruscant.”

There’s a long silence as they enter the empty kitchen.

Then: “Alright, I’ll help you.”

“I do wish I could do more, Ninety-Nine.”

He’s rewarded with a tense smile.

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

from “I love you” without saying it

11) checking your phone late at night and see them go online the moment you open their message (O’Niner/&any other Alpha) maybe he’s on Rishi?

-- from prompts sent by Tru (tumblr’s not letting me @ you) because I want to do at least one of the others. So this is one of three.

O’Niner collapses onto his bunk. These kids are honestly a mess, but this is what he gets for saying he wanted to work with the barely-passed cadets. This isn’t his first little squad, but his third. He brings them in, he bores them to death, he figures out what they need, he makes sure they get it. All while still managing to be seen as a hardass. It’d be much harder if he’d stayed like some of his other brothers, teaching younger cadets.

The younger ones are too cute.

But, eventually even this squad will be good enough to get sent out to a battalion or a legion or something. They’ll have experience enough to go on bridge duty. They’ll have anxious excitement enough to be happy with the gruntiest of grunt work in the battles.

That’s what O’Niner does.

Rishi really is the perfect place for it, between the eels and the seclusion and the actual importance of the place. They’re the last line of defence before enemies hit Kamino.

He just wishes he could see his classmates more.

He groans and turns his head so he isn’t smothering himself, grabbing his comm from where he’d tossed it by his pillow and opening up the messaging system. Typical: updates from the Kaminiise, general GAR officer messages.

He pauses and blinks.

Then he opens a message from Fordo.

He didn’t often end up with the younger (barely) of his classmates. From 51 to 100, they got grouped together more often, just like 01 to 50. They’d all drifted closer, though, as they got older. 77 was close to 99, and 99 was close to 02 because they were alike in some ways and thus trained differently than the rest of the class, and 09 was close to 02 because Spar was O’Niner’s favourite. One of the few he could come close to calling “vod.”

So he’d known 77, who had eventually always been tangling with Spar and 17. And after Spar...well, he’d helped out some. Especially after the incident.

The message was sent hours ago, and he’s probably on a completely different time, O’Niner realizes, even if Rishi uses Tipoca City time. He hums and hopes Fordo’s getting some sleep. As he reads the message, though, the little light that says whether someone is online or not blinks to online-blue.

[Hope you’re okay,] was the laconic message. [Got one of yours.]

Now that’s interesting. He feels a bit of pride, at that. Fordo’s good. For one of his to get to the point of being part of an ARC team with him, even for a little bit, meant they were doing quite well.

Hm.

[Do you think they’ll die?] he types back, sending it while staring at that online-blue.

There’s a pause, then typing.

[If they do, they’ll last longer than the others.]

They’re at war with droids. It’s bound to happen, unfortunately. So he’ll be realistic.

Most of them are going to die.

Not just the students he sends out. Not just the grunts or the ARCs.

All of them. No matter how good they are.

You have to be lucky, too.

Spar taught them that.

[K’oyaci.] he types. [Bring me something next time you come back to Kamino. Or send it, if you don’t want to come back.]

[Understood.] A pause. [Stay well, 09r.]

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

Line of dialogue prompt if you'd like it: “I saved you a seat.”

“I saved you a seat.”

Spar meets the eyes of every member of the rest of the squad before drily saying, “Really, now?”

Alvha grins and pats his lap, “You’re going to have to eventually.”

“With the amount of favors you have riding on me actually breaking and sitting on your lap? No, I’m going to do whatever I want,” Spar says, and flops down onto the floor, waiting for the squad to break at risk of getting told off by Bajir.

Right as the door to the practice room is opening, Maze breaks and scoots his shebs over so Spar can hop up and sit with the rest of them.