Chapter Text
When CC-2224 was young, the trainers made it no secret that he and his ‘siblings’ were a trap. He couldn't figure out who they were really for. Rumors ranged from the Galactic Republic and the Jedi to the Mandalorians. It was odd, considering that the two sides opposed each other, but the trainers hated both.
But then people in Mandalorian armor attacked the facility. It was scary. Despite having been trained for battle, it was still their first battle. But it only took a few moments of watching, of seeing the Mandalorians fighting the trainers, despite the trainers sending clone after clone at them, to see where allegiances lay. If an injured clone was close enough, a Mandalorian would run forward and pull them to safety while the trainers would use the clones as shields.
After that, it wasn’t much of a decision. CC-2224 shouted the orders and as one, the clones turned and fired on the trainers. It was only minutes before the trainers were killed, no longer in charge.
A person in black armor stepped forward, and CC-2224 did the same, ignoring the blood running into his eyes as he met them between the factions of Mandalorian and Clone. After a moment, they reached up, removing their helmet and revealing a heavily scarred face, a nose that was broken more than once, and sad, hurt eyes.
“What’s your name?” the Mandalorian asked gently.
CC-2224’s eyes flickered to the others standing behind him, reading their postures like he had been trained to do. Caution, protectiveness, but no posturing, nothing that told CC-2224 they were ready to attack.
He activated the safety on the rifle he held, lowering the muzzle to the floor, knowing that behind him, the other clones were taking on the same protective wariness, watching his back. “CC-2224,” he answered, and something in him shivered at the flash of anger he saw in the sad eyes. “My brothers call me Cody.”
“Kote,” the Mandalorian murmured, an odd smile crossing his lips at the accented word. “I am Jaster Mereel, and we’re here to take you home.”
“We’re a trap,” Cody said. “The trainers never specified if it is meant for the Republic or for the Mandalorian Empire.”
“We figured,” Jaster Mereel said. “But you are no longer a trap. We will take you back to Mandalore, find you homes, and make sure you have the best.”
Cody was confused, but any decisions were taken from his hands as the other Mandalorians moved past him, infiltrating the rest of Tipoca City. Jaster placed the helmet back on his head, and if it was anything like the helmets the clones trained with, he was probably listening to his warriors and giving orders.
The rest of the clones appeared to follow Cody’s lead, cooperating with the Mandalorians, and helping them secure any problem areas.
Jaster stuck close to Cody as they traveled back to Mandalore, the last to leave on large medical ships that carried the yet-to-be-decanted clones, too small to leave their incubation tubes. Most of the others had already left on other ships, but a small handful stuck with Cody.
And because they traveled with Cody, they learned more from Jaster.
Mand’alor the Reformer.
“Jango Fett was my son,” he started at the end of the first day of travel, a glass of tihaar between his hands. “I adopted him and his sister after the Kyr’tsad attacked their home as they hunted me. I survived an attempt on my life from my double crossing second in command. And in return, Montross orchestrated Jango’s death.”
The Prime, who had killed four skilled warriors, barehanded, before sacrificing his life to protect his own second in command.
“His body disappeared, and after years of searching, we traced the Kyr’tsad to that cloning facility and found you and your vode . The Death Watch training echoes of my Jango…” A soft sigh escaped him. “The Kaminoans kept his body preserved, but he’s coming back with us so we can properly honor him.”
Cody could feel Rex and Wolffe shifting at his shoulders, and he knew what he needed to do.
“As I’m sure you know,” Cody said. “Nearly all of the clones are genetically enhanced, but there are two who were not modified.”
Jaster blinked at him, as if he wasn’t comprehending what Cody was saying, and Cody looked back to two of the smaller forms hidden in their group. One looked like any other clone, dark hair, bright eyes, grumpy scowl, and the second would be easy to overlook in a group, almost blending in. Whatever was used to color the hair was already wearing off, letting bits of white blonde color peek through.
“This is Alpha-00,” Cody said, hand gently on the shoulder of the first child. “The longnecks kept him around as a fresh, unmodified source of DNA.”
And wasn’t that a kick in the gut. Cody remembered the first day the smaller kid had slipped into the barracks, trying to hide away from the Kaminoans, not wanting to be stabbed with needles and scalpels. The other clones that matched his developmental age stuck around him when they could, hiding him in their numbers.
“And Omega-99,” he said, introducing the young girl. She didn’t have the luxury of hiding like Alpha-00, especially as she was forced to work as a medical assistant. But in the chaos of the Mandalorians finding them, they were able to conceal her long enough until they were safely in hyperspace.
Jaster’s expression went slack for a moment before he reached forward, gently touching their hair, their cheeks. “Ka’ra,” he murmured brokenly, tears streaming down his face. “W-What are your names?”
“I prefer Omega,” Omega-99 said with a small smile, appearing unsure of how to react to the older man’s emotions.
“I wasn’t allowed a name,” Alpha-00 replied, torn between scowling and wanting to hide away.
Jaster laughed softly. “Jango spoke of one day hoping for a son,” he said quietly. “And to name him Boba. Would that be okay?”
The child shifted for a moment before giving a small nod.
“You can change it at any time,” Jaster told him. “A name is a gift, and you're not required to accept it, and you can reject it later as well.”
“Okay,” Alpha-00 -Boba- said after a moment.
Jaster’s hand went back to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “All right…. It’s late, we need to get you all to sleep.”
The other clones stood and shifted, forming up behind Cody, and Cody could see the way Jaster frowned at them. They stood, waiting, until Jaster and one of the other Mandalorians guided them through the halls to the private rooms. And it was apparently a shock to the adults when all of them piled into the first room.
“You can claim other rooms,” the second person said after a moment.
“No offense,” Bly said as a few of them began to pile up blankets on the floor, “But this is a strange place to us, you’re the first people we’ve interacted with outside of the trainers, and it’s easier for us to defend if we’re in one place.”
There was a moment of silence before Jaster looked back to Cody. “The baar’ur wants to take a look at your injury, Kote,” he said. “We can bring more blankets back.”
“Yes sir,” Cody nodded, stepping forward, and after a moment, Rex was at his shoulder, following him out of the room. Jaster didn’t say anything about Rex coming along, and Cody was grateful. The walk wasn’t all that long, but it was a shock to see one of the trainers there, waiting for them with a frown.
Cody placed himself in front of Rex, pulling one of the knives he was allowed to keep, only to paused when a few younger clones placed themselves between him and the trainer. Kix, Helix, and Evac were a few he could name, but he still recognized the others as clones that were part of the medical tracks.
“Udesii, Kote,” Jaster’s calm voice came from Cody’s side. “Gilamar is one of my men. He’s the one that led us to you.”
Cody scowled, still keeping a protective posture in front of Rex as he eyed the older medic. He was tempted to turn around and leave, knowing that Jaster wouldn’t stop him if he did want to get back to the group of clones on the ship, but he relented after a moment.
“He does not touch me,” Cody said. “Kix can treat my wound.”
The man simply nodded and stepped back. In his place, Kix gestured for him to follow. They were still young, but if Kix couldn’t treat the head wound, then Cody would just suffer through it until it healed. Taking a seat on a bunk, Cody glanced around, watching as Rex kept himself between him and the Mandalorians.
“What’s going on?”
Kix looked at him before scowling. “You’ll need to be more specific.”
“With the incubators.”
An odd look crossed Kix’s face as he scanned Cody’s head, checking for any other damage. “They’re waiting for them to get big enough to safely decant.”
“Why?”
A faint sigh gusted out of Kix. “The Mandalorians value children. Even if we weren’t clones of the leader’s dead son, they would still try to help us.”
Cody frowned in thought, though the expression smoothed away as Kix began the treatment. They were quiet for a moment before Kix spoke again.
“Why do you trust them?”
“I saw how they treated us,” Cody said after a moment. “The trainers didn’t care if we died. The Mandalorians risked themselves to pull any fallen clone to cover. If they were there to destroy us, why would they put themselves in danger to rescue someone that could easily die when left untreated?”
Kix’s shoulders relaxed faintly. “There are a few other trainers that got out. People like Gilamar, who follow Mereel.”
Cody made a face but stayed silent. He hoped he wouldn’t have to interact with them for a long while.
“Do you have somewhere to stay?”
The younger clone gave him an odd look. “The rest of medical and I have a bunk here in the medbay.”
“Fine.”
Cody sat on the bunk in silence, letting Kix treat the wound. When he was done, Cody stood, glancing between Kix and a few of the other medical clones he could see. “You and the others are welcome to join us.”
“We’d rather stay here,” Kix said, removing his gloves and starting to tidy up.
“I’ll see if Omega wants to join you.”
Something lit up in Kix’s eyes and Cody knew why. If Omega wasn’t by the longnecks’ side, she was often helping in the medbay. She and the medics might feel better knowing that the other was safe.
Cody and Rex went back to the doorway where Jaster waited for them, though this time, the man had armfuls of blankets. He passed a few to the two clones, claiming he couldn’t carry them all, and something in Cody melted a little when he felt how soft they were in his hands.
Following him back to the room was quick, as was handing the blankets out. A lot of them were already curled up in protective piles around the younger clones, and Cody decided not to wake up Omega just to ask her if she wanted to sleep somewhere else. The medical clones can do without her for another night.
Early meal was strange because whoever ran the galley served food quicker than any cook back on Kamino, feeding the group of clones and Mandalorians effortlessly. The food was rather bland, considering that no one was sure how well the clones would take to something more than rations and nutrient goo.
After early meal, the clones were at a loss. Back on Kamino, their schedule was severely controlled, specific times for training, education modules, and free time. On the ship, the Mandalorians were focused on not stressing out the clones, and it took a bit of hesitant asking for them to relent enough to show them where they could exercise.
The large empty area was a secondary galley, if needed, but the tables and chairs were stored away and the ground was covered by a thin padded layer. It was smaller than the training rooms the clones would use, but there were less clones on the ship.
In one group, the clones moved out into the middle of the room and began to stretch, warming up slowly. They haven’t had a chance to exercise and train since the Mandalorians took over Tipoca City, and it felt good to be moving again. Even Boba and Omega joined in, sticking close to Cody and Bly and following their leads.
After stretching, the others began to pair off as Cody and Wolffe walked among them, observing each set. They didn’t have the trainers watching over them, but they still fell into the routine forced onto them since the day they could walk. Even with the younger clones listening to Wolffe calling out the forms, all of them had their attention on any Mandalorian that stepped into the room.
Jaster had stayed long enough to watch them get started before leaving, and that didn’t surprise Cody. He was the highest ranked person on ship, and he probably took his duties seriously. Most of the others went in and out, curious about the clones they saved but not curious enough to interrupt a routine.
But one Mandalorian stayed the entire time, watching them with bright eyes. Cody kept an eye on him the entire time they worked on their forms, but when that ended, Cody turned to him directly. He apparently wasn’t expecting that because the relaxed posture stiffened.
“Spar with me,” Cody said.
The Mandalorian’s head tilted. “Is that wise?”
“The medics haven’t restricted me, and I wish to learn from a Haat’ade ,” Cody said. “We have learned enough from the Kyr’tsad, al’verde.”
Eyebrows rose and the man took a step forward. The other clones cleared away from the padded floor until they were around the edges, watching with anticipation. Boba and Omega were crowded against Rex and Bly, just as eager as the rest of them, even though they didn’t grow up training to fight like the rest of them.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” the man said. “I don’t know how you fight. You’re smaller and quicker.”
“And you’ve just got done watching my brother train for two hours. You might be slower, but you're larger, stronger, and armored.”
“What are your rules? We’re not fighting until we draw blood,” he restricted immediately. Cody was glad that this man seemed reasonable.
“Five points. I receive a point each time I knock you to your back. You receive a point if you have me pinned down for three seconds.”
A thoughtful look crossed the man’s face before he nodded. “Reasonable enough.” He stepped over to Wolffe, removing the weapons he carried and handing it over to the clone before moving back to the center. He shifted on his feet, bringing his hands up to a ready stance. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Cody gave a single nod before darting forward.
It was hard to resist the urge to worry at the cut on his lip constantly. The cut came from an unfortunate blow to the face, the al’verde ’s gauntlet catching the skin. The man immediately looked horrified, and part of Cody wondered if it was because he inflicted an injury on a child or the idea of what would happen to him when Jaster found out.
Cody had worse injuries before and took the opportunity to use the man’s hesitation against him and won himself a third point. That shook the man out of his worry and the match ended quickly with the man securing his fifth and final point.
He then dragged Cody to the ship’s medbay. Kix stared at them before dismissing them completely, not even bothering to take care of such a small wound.
Jaster saw them leaving the medbay, his only response being a raised eyebrow as he continued on to his destination. The man didn’t demand that they stop sparring, though the al’verde appeared to be more determined to teach than to spar.
That was three days ago. There wasn’t much to do in hyperspace, especially to entertain a group of clones at various stages of learning. They couldn’t spar the entire time, despite how many of them would have been fine with that. One of the Mandalorians had set up a holoprojector and played some of the less violent movies after latemeal in the galley. When no one protested blankets being dragged in, even more blankets appeared.
It didn’t matter that the movies were in Mando’a and the clones only knew a smattering of words. They were entertaining enough, and if it wasn’t, they’d fall right to sleep. After the first night of that, the projector was moved to the secondary galley so no one would be forced to wake up when early meal preparations started.
Going from a strict schedule to what felt like days where they didn’t have to do anything left Cody floundering a bit. After midmeal on the third day in hyperspace, he approached Jaster with a request to shadow him. When asked for his reason, Cody said that his duty was to lead and command, being one of the CC batches. Jaster tried to reason with him, telling him that he wasn’t required to lead any more, that he could choose something else, but Cody shook his head and made his request again.
And that’s how Cody got the opportunity to be invited to the observation deck in the bridge. The other clones were down among the personnel piloting the ship, watching the hyperspace spin down until a beautiful yellow-white planet appeared, drifting among the sea of stars. It was so drastically different from Kamino that Cody felt his first spike of fear. Here was more proof that he and the others had been taken far away from the only thing they knew.
But instead of war and death that the Kyr’tsad promised awaited them, it was a chance for a new life.
There was an odd chiming sound and Cody looked to Jaster, the man bringing up his arm and activating the tiny projector built in. The person that appeared was a strong looking human. Cody assumed they were Mandalorian as well, judging by the little amount of armor he saw, and even with the blue often seen on comm holos, he could tell their hair was as white-blonde as Omega’s.
[I hope you arrived unharmed, alor ,] they said, image flickering for a moment.
“Less scrapes than Myles, ad’ika ,” Jaster replied. The word had the other relaxing. “How goes the adoption?”
[Horribly,] was the reply, though the accompanying expression was a fond grimace. [I don’t blame them, honestly. No one is leaving, no one wishes to be separated. We’ve had to squish them all into the largest building in Keldabe. Got plenty of verde volunteering to watch and help, but that doesn’t turn a ship hanger into a caring home.]
“Well, once we land and they can see their alor , maybe things will progress.”
[I hope so. The one named Fox appears to currently be in charge and I can’t tell if he’s trying to help or hinder.]
A faint sound of annoyance escaped Cody, not surprised to hear such a declaration, and he caught Jaster grinning at him.