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jgvfhl · 6 months

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The Number Lads (gn) Make Killer Memes

HAPPY NOVEMBER the Lads are back, and they're about to make someone's life very difficult. Hopefully, this marks the start of a monthly posting schedule again for this fic, but the holidays at the end of the year might delay things slightly in January. We'll see. But enjoy some new Mandalorian friends!

Words: ~7000 Warnings: some violence and some very bad humor Link to Masterlist of Chapters on tumblr Link to the full story on Ao3

Do-si-do sincerely hoped his sergeant never found out any details of tonight’s events. They had a sneaking suspicion she might not approve of their stealing a speeder bike from the Guard, then helping to lead a wild mynock chase through the Senate District on Coruscant. Still, they were doing an excellent job at not dying or crashing, even with about two dozen Guards on their tail.

Last they’d seen, Loops and Trees had commandeered a larger air speeder from the Guard and had split the pursuing forces a bit further. Maral was still here in her totally amazing, beautifully painted gauntlet starfighter Moon Saber, and Fours and Commander Bacara, the absolute madmen, had successfully gotten two of the transport shuttles off their tails as well. So, all in all, it wasn’t going terribly! Do-si-do had seen the commander and Echo get into the chancellor’s office, so he had to assume they would do what they set out to do. The rest of them couldn’t really help them out here.

Do-si-do swung their bike around a sharp corner, aiming for a shadowed overhang to get some cover and take a short breather before they had to head back out. It worked, but only barely. They had just dismounted and hunkered down behind the bike when the patrol of Guards zoomed past them. Fortunately, none of them stopped. Do-si-do let out a breath, then nearly jumped out of their armor when their comm started blinking green.

They answered quickly, transferring it to their helmet’s internal system in case they needed to get on the move again.

“This is the prettiest pilot this side of Trip Zip, what can I do for you?”

There was a pause. Then, Trees answered, “I’m not going to comment on that. General Unduli contacted me and told us to meet her and Kenobi in Little Sriluur. Something’s happening.”

That was vague. “Any better ideas on what that something is, or are we just guessing?”

“I was not given more information that that, no.”

Do-si-do nodded, easing the bike out of cover slowly, looking around for Guards. “Got it, Little Sriluur. Is the Clubhouse good?” What if someone had found out Sevenset and Fives?

“I do not have any more information to give you, Do-si-do,” Trees told them.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The comm disconnected before they had a chance to say anything else. That was Trees, they supposed.

Right. Little Sriluur. Their sense of direction, like any good clone, was impeccable, so they weren’t worried about finding their way there. But just in case they had to take some creative detours, they used the speeder bike’s control panel to enter the Noodle Bar’s name into the mapping system. The speeder bike hummed along beautifully as they put it into gear, shoved off the platform, and sped out onto the flight lane beside their temporary hideout.

Without the impending danger of Coruscant Guardsmen (who may or may not be acting with free will), the ride through Coruscant’s maze of buildings and alleyways was almost peaceful. They were a pilot, so of course the feeling of free movement through spaces otherwise confined by flight lanes and gravity was always invigorating. And, at least for now, there was no one shooting at them. That was a win. A few people honked at them or shouted insults when they flew a bit too close, but Do-si-do ignored them. They were too busy scanning the area for Coruscant Guards or security probes.

There were plenty of them, of course, but as they flew farther away from the Senate Dome and the government offices, their numbers thinned. A few more blocks, and it almost looked normal. About a block away from Little Sriluur, they startled a little when a Guard speeder appeared on their left, but they settled when they recognized Loops and Trees in the cab.

“Sweet ride!” they shouted over the rushing wind.

Trees’ helmet turned to them. Do-si-do imagined one of his finest, emotionally flat expressions on his face under it. “I am not happy about anything happening right now!” he shouted back.

Do-si-do laughed. “Hey, Loops! Where’d you learn to fly a speeder?”

Loops didn’t take his attention off of the flight lane in front of them. “Uh… General Koon,” he said.

“Nice!” they grinned, watching the bright lights and lit signs of Little Sriluur come closer and closer. “Where are the Jedi, anyway?” they called over to the other two. “Or do we just follow the sounds of lightsabers?”

“The transmissions on this speeder haven’t given us anything useful,” Trees said, pointing to the speeder’s control panel.

Do-si-do was a little put-out that they hadn’t thought to listen in to the Guard’s own transmission channels. “What did they say?” they asked.

“To ignore the ‘small disruption’ in Little Sriluur,” Trees answered, putting air quotes around the emphasized words.

That didn’t sound good. It meant whatever was happening in the neighborhood, they were on their own to deal with it. Well… no turning back now. They’d all either get medals for this, or it would be the last thing they did in service to the Republic. Do-si-do tried not to think about the last option. In a moment, the three of them were cruising into the heart of Coruscant’s weequay neighborhood. The sign for Sun’s Noodle Bar was visible at the end of the street, and at least initially, Do-si-do didn’t see anything amiss nearby. Hopefully, that meant Sevenset and Fives and the other inhabitants of the restaurant were still safe.

Hopefully, they could keep them that way.

“Do-si-do!” Loops’ shout pulled their attention back to their friends flying next to them. Trees was pointing off to their left, a little ahead of them.

It wasn’t clear right away what was so important over there. After a few seconds, bright lights flashed, and Do-si-do recognized a plume of smoke rising out of the cityscape.

Well, shit.

“I guess we know where the Jedi are!” they said, trying to find some silver lining here. “I’ll follow you guys!”

The air speeder veered to the left, zipping down a side street. Do-si-do followed, still keeping an eye on any probe droids or Guard patrols in the area. There were a concerningly few number of them both, and neither of them seemed too interested in checking out the “small disturbance” two blocks up. What they did start seeing more of were frightened civilians running or flying away from the plume of smoke. Loops and Do-si-do each had to execute a little fancy flying to avoid an oncoming civvy speeder going way faster than they should be in a flight lane this size.

Something had them seriously spooked. They were not looking forward to finding out what it was.

About two blocks up, they started hearing noises more at home on a battlefield instead of the heart of the Republic. A familiar clanking was the most ominous of them all. They turned right back towards the main thoroughfare, and immediately were faced with a blockade struggling to contain a mass of panicking citizens. A line of droids had cut them off from escaping down the side street, and were slowly but surely walking them back towards the main street.

Loops pulled his speeder up sharply, and Do-si-do followed, knowing it was a losing battle to try to calm down a crowd of that size on their own. Not without Jedi, certainly.

“Hey!” a droid yelled, noticing them finally.

As they approached the bigger street, one of the droids, an officer with yellow accents on its body, held up an angular hand. “Halt! No one passes—”

“We’re passing, thanks!” Do-si-do shouted as the two speeders zoomed over their heads. A flurry of red blaster bolts appeared in the air around the two speeders. Luckily, the droids were still lousy shots.

They burst onto the scene taking over the main thoroughfare, Do-si-do instinctively swooping higher for a vantage point. The pilot in them just liked to see as much as possible, and there was a lot to see. The blocks adjacent to the street that had led them here were all packed with people and droids—the bad kind of droids. It looked like the droids had worked to contain several large groups of citizens on the ground, holding them in place as collateral. It was a horrible, vile practice, but one the Seppies had no issues using as long as it kept the Jedi at bay. On the subject of Jedi, Doi-si-do still couldn’t see any Jedi, or even the occasional flash of a lightsaber that might give them away.

What they could see, however, were Commander Bacara and Fours holding their ground at the center of one of the walkways crossing the flightlanes. The droids seemed torn between containing their civilian hostages and sending more numbers to take on the pair of Marines.

Loops flew his speeder down to land between them and one side of the bridge. Do-si-do was quick to mirror the action, landing on Fours’ side.

“Where are the Jedi, sir?” Trees asked, ducking low in the vehicle to avoid the blaster fire.

“Dealing with Dooku!” came the reply. “Up the block to the northeast.” He tilted his helmet slightly up the street, unwilling to move his hands from where they were aiming his pistols.

“Dooku?” Do-si-do repeated, shocked. “Why the hell is he here?”

“I’m not gonna ask him!” Commander Bacara shot back.

Fair.

“What can we do, Commander?” Loops wanted to know.

“Try to break through these blockades,” the commander answered. “Getting the civvies out of danger is our first priority.”

That made sense. It robbed the droids of their leverage, and cleared the field of noncombatants at the same time.

Do-si-do nodded. “On it! Sir!”

They kicked off the ground again, hunched low to the handlebars to make a smaller target. Nearby, they watched Loops’ speeder lift off as well. They punched in Trees’ comm frequency to make it easier to… well, communicate.

“Which group are we aiming for first, boys?” they asked.

“The smallest?” Trees answered, sounding slightly unsure. To be fair, none of them had any leadership experience on the field. But that didn’t mean their other experience didn’t count for something.

“Maybe the one closest to where the Jedi are supposed to be?” Do-si-do suggested.

“You want to get closer to the Sith lord and the two Jedi fighting him?” Trees replied.

Do-si-do shook their head, turning their bike around in the air and aiming up the street. “I’m thinking we get the civvies closest to danger out of it,” they said sharply. “Now, come on!”

Trees didn’t reply, but the comm stayed open. When they glanced back, Do-si-do saw the Corrie speeder turn around and start to follow their path.

“What’s the plan?” Trees asked.

Honestly, Do-si-do wasn’t sure they had a plan, per se, more of a… vague idea. “You two stay this side of the street and take out the droids there. You can use the speeder for cover. I’ll head around to the back of the group and get the civvies a way out that way.”

“How?”

“I am a master at improv!”

There was a pause that Do-si-do barely registered as they approached the group of terrified civilians. “No, you’re not!”

“I’m not an officer, okay? Gimme a break!” was the only response they managed to find to that. They just had to hope Loops and Trees would actually carry out the skeletal plan.

They swooped down, skimming over the group of droids and other people until they could veer to the right down a one-lane sidestreet, similar to but smaller than the one the three of them had used coming here. There were six B1 droids guarding the back of the group on the walkway hugging the building next to the sidestreet.

“Duck!” Do-si-do shouted as they angled the bike downwards.

Luckily, the collection of weequay and other races heard them, and listened. The people closest to the back of the group crouched down, some people pulling others to the deck if they were too slow. The droids, always a slower study, had only just noticed their hostages had moved before Do-si-do and their bike registered as a threat.

Do-si-do turned sharply, temporarily dropping the thrusters’ levels as low as they dared without killing the engine as well. It was nice to know machines. Gravity and physics did the rest, and they crashed sideways into three of the droids, laying them out flat on the deck as they kicked the thrusters back up to normal levels. As the bike slid over the droids, Do-si-do leaned down and swiped one of their blasters from its owner. The other three droids were chattering in surprise, just now leveling their blasters at them. But the Kaminoans hadn’t spent all that time and money to put out lousy soldiers.

Do-si-do shot down two of the droids before the speeder bike had even stopped moving. The final droid was quickly seized, disarmed, and deactivated by some proactive citizens while Do-si-do made sure the three on the ground wouldn’t get up again.

They steered the bike off the walkway, up and over the slight railing that kept people from toppling into the flight lane. “Go!” they said, gesturing down the open walkway. “Get out, let’s go!”

The crowds needed no further instructions. They surged forward en masse, right over the droids that had been holding them captive moments earlier. They moved down the walkway, heading away from the bigger street as fast as they could. Do-si-do grinned, rather pleased their haphazard plan had worked. They saw Loops and Trees standing among the scrapped bodies of the ten or so droids that had been guarding the hostages on that side. They flew over to them, hovering on the walkway beside the main street.

“Good plan, right?” they said, grinning still.

Loops shrugged and Trees just stared from behind his helmet.

“Alright, contain your enthusiasm,” they said. “We’ve got other civvies to deal with.”

Loops and Trees climbed back into their speeder and followed Do-si-do back into the air. There were two remaining clumps of civilians held hostage by droids. One was across the street and under active assault by Commander Bacara and Fours. The other was down the block on the same side of the street.

“Has anyone checked on the Noodle Bar?” they said out loud after checking the comm channel with Trees was still open.

“In what copious spare time would we have done that?”

“I was only making sure the Seppies aren’t after Sevens and Fives” they replied, ducking under a string of colored lanterns hung across the flight lanes. “Do the Seppies know? Is that why they’re here?”

“Shall we ask them nicely?” Trees answered, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

“Okay, cool it, Green Bean. Let’s get these natties dealt with first.” They tried to keep the worry out of their voice. It was hard, though. Sevenset and Fives were right there. If the droids found that out, they had no trouble believing they’d storm the place without hesitation. Considering that, they felt a little more confident that the droids didn’t know where they were.

They had just passed the Noodle Bar, still aiming for the group of hostages held a little ways up the block from the restaurant, when a large crash and a distant humming reached their ears. They looked over their shoulder for a second. Flashes of blue and green caught their eye.

The Jedi, finally.

There was also the small issue of a large lit sign being ripped off its building and hurled towards the Jedi. It missed, but ultimately crashed into the opposite building and the walkway adjacent to it.

The humming noise was getting louder too. Do-si-do recognized it as some kind of air transport, but they couldn’t tell what exactly the vehicle was yet. They hoped it was more allies, but they had to be prepared for it to bring more enemies too.

Trees’ voice cut into their thoughts. “Do-si-do, it looks like the droids are bringing reinforcements.”

Well, joy of joys. “How many and what kind?”

“Mostly B1s, but I can see at least ten SBDs.”

“Great! Let’s see if we can get these civvies outta here first,” Do-si-do told him, urging the speeder bike faster. Kriffing SBDs—seriously?

“Clones!” cried the first droid to noticed their approach.

“Clankers!” Do-si-do called back. The droids had been too slow in reorganizing to react to the new threat, so Do-si-do swooped as low as they dared, knocking the first droid on the head with the back of the speeder bike before skimming over the crowd of gathered natties to the far side of the group. Hopefully, Trees and Loops would get the hint.

They whirled the bike around to face the droids guarding the back of the group, quickly shooting two of them down like before. There were five more, plus the other seven Loops and Trees were responsible for scrapping. Plus the ones coming down out of the sky any second now. Wonderful.

Do-si-do ducked a blaster bolt and steered the bike around to point at the droids. The natties wouldn’t thank them, but they never did. They drove the speeder forward, bowling into two of the droids, who toppled to the ground as the crowd gave way. Not as brave a group as the first one, it seemed. They kept the bike over them to keep them in place. The two either side of them couldn’t quite decide if they should use their blasters at this close range, or just grab them. Do-si-do wasn’t too keen on letting them finish that decision.

They grabbed the droid on their right, shooting a hole through its chest from the neck down. The other droid did actually try to grab them, but they quickly smashed their blaster into its face to buy time to swing themself off the bike to shoot that one through the chest as well. It was honestly annoying how careful they had to be not to let the bolts go through the droids and into the crowd of terrified and screaming civilians next to them. The last droid shot at them, but missed (barely), hitting the wall of the building instead. Do-si-do lunged forward, crowding into its space so it couldn’t use its blaster as effectively, and shot it down.

That done, they returned to the bike, glad to find it still worked and hadn’t suffered any stray blaster bolts. “Alright, people!” they shouted as they rose a little higher. “Get going! Head south as much as you can,” they said, pointing away from the sounds of Dooku and the Jedi.

As before, the crowd surged forward down the walkway, hopefully to safety. Well. Somewhere safer than here.

They darted over into the flight lane to avoid the crowds and return to the main action. They still had one more group to free, after all.

Okay, the main action had gotten a bit more… active. Trees’ warning about more droids arriving had been well-deserved. About two or three dozen more had arrived, including those SBDs Do-si-do wished they could will out of existence. Up the street, they could see flashes of blue, green, and red as Kenobi and Unduli battled Dooku across the upper stories of the buildings. So far they hadn’t come too close, but the hum of sabers was audible between the high pitched whine of blasterfire. The main force of the new droids had gathered across the street, concentrating their strength around defending the hostages. Fours and his commander had backed down the footbridge over the flight lanes until they were hunkered down with Loops and Trees, all under a hail storm of red blaster bolts.

The SBDs were leading a march across the footbridge, their reinforced armor plating making it much harder to just pick them off like the B1s. Do-si-do steered their speeder bike higher, hoping to get some advantage to help their friends. They climbed until they were about as high as the division between floors in the buildings either side. Glancing around the scene, they tried to work out any weak points in the droids’ formation around the hostages. Just as they leaned to start turning down yet another sidestreet, something struck their bike from the side out of nowhere.

They yelped, torn between hanging onto the bike or hanging onto their blaster. What had hit them? As the bike’s spinning slowed, they could make out a small handful of B1s whirring around the air on small air speeders. Oh, those little shits—

Do-si-do snarled and aimed to give chase. They were sorely missing their starfighter’s aiming and hostile detection capabilities right about now. They took off after the nearest airborne B1, but only got a few seconds ahead before something much, much bigger came up behind them and swept them completely off their bike and knocked the wind out of their lungs and the blaster from their hands.

“Where are the fugitives.”

Once the momentary panic had started to subside, Do-si-do recognized the low, monotonous voice of an SBD. They all had jet boosters in their backs, right. Great.

“Where are the fugitives.”

“I don’t know!” Do-si-do yelled, watching the street and their friends fly by in a blur under their dangling legs.

The SBD’s metal hands tightened around their torso. “Where are the fugitives, or you will be destroyed.”

“Up yours, you karking oil stain!” No way they were giving up Fives and Sevenset. No way in hell.

The SBD stopped moving forward, hovering above the open flight lane that led down, down, down towards the lower levels of Coruscant. Do-si-do stopped looking down, knowing it would only make their stomach churn at this point. See, this was just another reason they liked being a pilot: getting shot down in space meant a very quick death, either being burned up or just freezing to death in the vacuum of space. But falling from this height? There was no guarantee. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t hit one of the footbridges crossing the flight lane and bounce off into who knew where. They might hit a speeder and only get broken bones, and since they were a clone, no one would even bother bringing them to a medical center, most likely.

For the third time in as many minutes, Do-si-do’s train of thought was interrupted by a collision. Something solid slammed into the SBD holding them. They couldn’t tell immediately what had hit it.

Then they felt the droid’s grip loosen as it deactivated. So someone had shot the SBD. That would have been great news, had Do-si-do not been dangling several hundred feet above the nearest flat surface below.

They started falling, uncaring of how undignified their screaming was, because they were falling, Force dammit!

Just as suddenly, they stopped falling, after a jolt of impact. They looked down to find someone’s armored arms wrapped securely around their torso.

“Can I go two kriffing seconds without getting hit by something or someone in the air?” they demanded. They were stressed and upset and they were allowed to be a bit pissed off.

“Yeah, you were looking a bit like a bouncy ball for a second there, kid,” said whoever was carrying them. The voice came through a filter, so whoever it was had a helmet too.

“Did you shoot that thing?”

“Nope! Someone has a sniper perch in one of the restaurants over there.” They zoomed over the street, weaving between the strands of lanterns strung across it, until they arrived where the other Numbers and Commander Bacara were still holding their ground against the force of droids across the street.

Do-si-do was set down on their feet next to Trees.

“You troopers want some help with these guys?” their rescuer asked.

Turning around, Do-si-do saw a Mandalorian in full armor. The armor paint was… garish, almost. Bright colors and odd designs faded and flowed into each other across the entire set, forming a stark contrast against the dark grey of their flight suit. Do-si-do looked back to the helmet, expecting to find a black T-shaped visor like so many had. There was… no visor. The front of the helmet was smooth and painted over like any other part of the armor.

This person had saved them… in mid-air… blind.

Holy shit.

They stopped gawking and ducked behind the walkway’s railing when red blaster bolts came a little too close for comfort.

Commander Bacara glanced over at the newcomer from where he was crouched behind cover. “Clan Ves?”

“‘Lek!” the Mandalorian answered, sounding almost chipper. “Maral called us in. I’m your Aunt Faye. You’re Bacara, right?”

“Elek. How many are you?”

“Two others. My ad and my vod.”

“Where are they?” he asked.

Faye pointed across the flight lane on the street corner opposite the crowd of hostages. “Over there somewhere. Trying to keep the ad out of this, since he hasn’t passed his verd’goten yet.”

The Marines commander turned to look at her. “You brought a child here?”

“I got a call! I didn’t have time to find a daycare,” she answered, gesturing to the general situation. “Besides, they’re thirteen. They’ll be fine with their ba’vodu.”

“Can we discuss this later, sir?” Trees demanded, completely flattened against the back side of the speeder to avoid the steady stream of red blaster bolts whizzing by overhead.

A huge crash brought everyone’s attention farther up the block towards the Jedi and Count Dooku. Their fight had continued to migrate, working its way down the block, closer and closer to the group of civilians they still hadn’t managed to free. This could get ugly if they didn’t get the hostages to safety soon.

“We need these SBDs taken care of!” Commander Bacara ordered. “I don’t care if you have to blow up the footbridge to do it.”

Faye checked one of their vambraces as they all crowded together to concentrate their fire on the approaching droids. Do-si-do assumed that’s what she was doing, anyway, since she never actually looked down at her wrist. “I don’t have enough Whistling Birds for all of them, but I could take out three.”

“Do it!”

Trees shoved a droid’s blaster into their hands, and Do-si-do wasn’t about to ask him where he’d picked it up. They kept firing with the rest of the Numbers, but they couldn’t help but watch out of their periphery. They’d never seen Whistling Birds in action before, but they’d always liked the sound of them from stories. Six pinpoints of light shot out of Faye’s vambrace with little bursts of noise. They left tiny trails of smoke or compressed air in their wakes as they sped across the air, homing in directly on the SBDs. The first three jolted slightly as two miniature missiles embedded into their armor and detonated. The droids stumbled, then fell, the red light in their visual sensors fading as they crashed to the deck. It slowed the rest down for a few seconds, giving the Numbers and the commander a chance to down two more of them. That left just five marching across the footbridge towards them.

Suddenly, and enormous chunk of signage came hurtling through the air and smashed through the metal footbridge. The bridge and chunk of metal disappeared into the gap, now careening through the lower levels of Coruscant.

“What the shit!” Do-si-do yelled as Loops and Trees both made wordless yelps as well. Fours and his commander and Faye seemed less surprised.

In the pause in blaster fire, flashes of blue and green made them all look up. Generals Kenobi and Unduli were leaping back and forth across the gap created by the flight lane. Do-si-do looked and found Count Dooku had hitched a ride on one of the B1s still in possession of a small speeder, and was skimming through the air towards the group of hostages.

Well, this wasn’t good.

A loud noise came from the building just up the block, and they looked to the source in case it was something dangerous. It was, just not for the Numbers and their allies. The building in question was the Noodle Bar. Apparently, someone had a rocket launcher pointed out the window, and had just fired it at the speeder holding up the Sith Lord.

A split second before the missile made contact, Dooku leapt from it, landing directly amongst the hostages across the flight lane. The B1 on the speeder was not as lucky, and it exploded violently in the middle of the air. Kenobi and Unduli landed on the street corner up the block from the Numbers’ current location. They looked tired but far from finished.

“Come no closer!” Dooku yelled, raising his voice and his red lightsaber. The civilians around him were quite literally shaking with fear. Do-si-do didn’t blame them.

“Really, Count?” Kenobi replied with a curled lip. “That’s stooping awfully low, even for you.”

“Leave the civilians out of this!” Unduli added on, gesturing with her green blade.

“I want what I came for,” the Sith replied. “But you Jedi are always in the way, and now look.” He gestured to the crowd around him with his free hand. “You’ve put innocent lives at risk.”

“Nar’sheb! You landed there on purpose!” Faye yelled at him. Do-si-do jumped a little, not used to people aside from Jedi doing the talking during these confrontations. “Let the young ones free, at least, and negotiate like a civilized person.”

“A Mandalorian asking for negotiations?” Dooku said. “You must be desperate, Kenobi.”

“I’ve never actually met that Mandalorian before,” Kenobi said, glancing at Faye.

She waved. “I’m Faye! Clan Ves! Su’cuy!”

The Jedi each gave little waves in return before resuming their conversation with Dooku.

Commander Bacara looked at Faye. “Any chance you have a Whistling Bird left for him?”

She shook her head. “I wish. Kriffing demagolka, but no. Used ‘em up on the Supers.”

“Didn’t you say someone had a sniper perch in the Noodle Bar?” Do-si-do asked her. Maybe that person could take out Dooku, or at least distract him?

Faye nodded, but didn’t get a chance to respond. A chorus of cries and protests rose up from the hostages. The B1s and SBDs surrounding them had turned inwards, now aiming at the hostages instead of their adversaries. Do-si-do’s stomach swooped uncomfortably.

“Dooku!” Kenobi shouted. “This is barbaric!”

“My master gives clear instructions,” the Sith shot back, still waving his saber around to supplement his speech. “I am to find the clones in question, destroy them, and not let anyone stand in my way. You, Kenobi, are in my way.”

“Threatening the lives of innocents doesn’t help your cause!” Unduli told him, walking slowly towards the small footbridge that connected the two city blocks across the sidestreet. Kenobi followed her. Their movements were deliberate and steady.

Dooku frowned. “It seems my message is not clear. Do you need a demonstration?”

He lunged into the crowd around him and dragged a young child to him. The girl looked no older than twelve, with tan skin, smooth black hair, and big brown eyes filled with tears. At the same time, the B1s surrounding the group all did the same, grabbing a random civilian and holding a blaster against their heads or torsos.

“I want those clones, Kenobi!” the Sith snarled. “Anything else, and these people will die for your inaction.”

Commander Bacara growled as he looked down the sights on his blaster. “I can’t get a good shot on anything. The SBDs are blocking the way.”

Faye sighed sharply as she did the same. “Yeah, me neither. Kriff.”

Do-si-do saw the commander’s comm light up, and watched him answer it in his helmet. His head tilted in a slow nod. “Okay. Saleha and Mira think they can take out the B1s without getting the civvies hurt.”

“How?” Trees asked.

“They have the sniper perches in the Noodle Bar,” he told him.

That made sense. Do-si-do did recall Saleha dragging a long case out of the hall closet while the rest of the clones were packing up to leave with Maral. Since Ahsoka Tano was still staying with Fives and Sevenset, they were fine with the two old ladies pointing weapons of war out of the restaurant windows if it meant taking out Dooku.

The two Jedi had made it almost across the smaller footbridge that would lead them right to where the Numbers and their allies were gathered. While the larger footbridge across the flightlane was destroyed, Do-si-do had no problems believing the Jedi would just hurl themselves across the gap anyway. The Sith still hadn’t budged, however. He still held the shaking little girl firmly in one hand by the collar, watching the Jedi’s every move.

Kenobi, living up to his nickname, was still trying to negotiate. “Release the hostages, and we’ll settle this on even footing.” Perhaps he was just stalling. It didn’t look like anything was getting through to the count.

Movement to the left of the huddled group of hostages made Do-si-do look away from the Sith Lord for a moment. On yet another street corner, this one across from the crowd of hostages on the far side of the street, a lone figure was visible. They were also in full beskar armor, all painted in black and purple, with a few white accents beside bare silver steel. A long staff protruded from behind their shoulder, possibly another weapon—probably another weapon. More Mandalorians? That must be the vod Faye had mentioned.

The movement had been this new person standing up to full height. “Hey, Dicku!” they yelled, even carrying across the way from behind their helmet. “Let the girl go.” They leveled a blaster pistol at the count. “Her name is Ligma, and she’s under my clan’s protection. You really wanna piss off an entire clan of Mandalorians?”

Do-si-do blinked. They bit their bottom lip gently to keep the ungraceful snort from coming out of his mouth. “Ligma?” they muttered to Loops.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered. “Not gonna question it.”

Behind Do-si-do, a thunk sounded. They glanced over their shoulder and saw Faye had slapped her palm onto her helmet’s front. “I’m going to slap them,” she muttered, then raised her head again. “And then I’m going to kill them.”

Before they could ask why, Dooku was speaking again. His tone was absolutely dripping condescension. “Explain to the Jedi that as soon as I know where I might find the fugitives in question, little Ligma here—”

The little girl screamed. “LIGMA NUTS!” In a second, the girl’s tan features gained a shade of grey-ish green and her eyes flashed yellow. Her arm came up, suddenly holding a miniblaster like Saleha had used to stun Nines earlier that evening. Only, this one wasn’t on stun. A bright red flash was all that could be seen before Dooku was doubling over with a cry of pain.

In quick succession, several more blaster shots rang out all over the street. One came from the Mandalorian across the way, and it slammed into Dooku’s head, killing him instantly. Four green shots came in rapid sequence from the Noodle Bar, scrapping four of the B1s threatening the civilians directly. Immediately, the Jedi leapt across the gap, using the Force to launch themselves directly in front of the droids surrounding the hostages. Faye took to the air on her jetpack to follow them.

Commander Bacara stood, aiming his blaster. “Fire at will!” he barked, already aiming for the rest of the SBDs.

Do-si-do needed no further prompting. They, Loops, Trees, and Fours followed his lead, picking off the B1s carefully. The Jedi never made careful too easy, and once again, Do-si-do found themself wishing they were back in a starfighter instead. Everyone kept moving around, blocking shots, and there were still the civilians to keep safe as well. It was a mess. A mess they were not entirely practiced in cleaning up. Luckily, Loops, Trees, and Fours seemed more than comfortable.

It was all over in under a minute. The droids lay in sparking pieces on the deck if they hadn’t been Force-pushed off the edge. The civilians were terrified and many of them weeping, but they were all alive. The little girl had disappeared. Do-si-do had lost her in the action, and couldn’t see her anymore, anyway. But he did see Faye meeting up with her vod, smacking them upside the helmet, and then embracing a young Mandalorian with gold accents on their chestplate and vambraces, and a gold helmet.

“Threat neutralized,” Commander Bacara said. He raised his comm, then stared at it when it started blinking green before he’d pressed any buttons. After the initial hesitation, he answered it. “Bacara.”

He must have had it connected to his helmet, because there was a stretch of silence before he spoke next.

“But you’re all unharmed?” He nodded in response to whatever answer he’d gotten. “No, we’re all done here. Dooku’s dead. The Noodle Bar is safe.” There was another pause. “I’ll tell you about it later. We will take care of the several unconscious and-or injured people inside the Clubhouse, yes.” After one last pause, he nodded. “Bacara out.”

“Was that the—er, Commander Sixes, sir?” Do-si-do asked.

“Yes. He and Echo are fine.” He turned to the Jedi still ushering the civilians away from the mechanical carnage. “Generals! A word!”

After a minute or so of being Jedi and comforting scared people, Kenobi and Unduli jumped back across the flightlane and walked over to the group of troopers. The Mandalorians all followed with jetpacks, the adults both carrying the young one over the gap.

“Thank you all for your help and your bravery tonight,” General Unduli said when they had all gathered.

“Yes,” Kenobi seconded. He looked to the Mandalorians and offered a small salute, bowing slightly with his right fist over his heart. “Vor entye, Aliit Ves.” Then he smiled at the Numbers and Commander Bacara. “And of course, thank you, troopers. This went far beyond the scope of your usual duties, and you all served bravely, as Master Unduli has said already.”

Do-si-do knew their helmet obscured their face, but they smiled widely. The Jedi could pick up emotions anyway, right? They’d know. Commander Bacara gave a curt nod.

“The chancellor is dead,” he said flatly.

There was a short silence while everyone adjusted to the sudden change in mood and subject. The Jedi’s faces both remained fairly neutral, almost impassive. Eventually, Unduli dipped her chin and closed her eyes.

“I had sensed the Force grow lighter,” she said softly. “But I had assumed it was because of Count Dooku’s death.”

“I had as well,” Kenobi agreed with a distant look in his eyes. “But, no. This is too much change to have been just the count. The chancellor held more Darkness than we had ever imagined.”

That was a terrifying thought, considering that man had nearly taken control of the entire GAR, and could have exterminated the Jedi Order as a whole with a few well-placed transmissions. But he hadn’t. He was dead. Dooku was dead. Ventress had abandoned the Separatists months ago, if rumors were to be believed. That just left Grievous to deal with, and there was no shortage of people gunning for a chance at scrapping the wheezing maniac.

Kenobi’s comm went off, and he answered it. “Yes, Anakin?”

“Master, the Force feels different.”

“Yes, I would imagine it feels very different,” he replied easily. “Lighter, perhaps?”

“I… guess? I’m not—I was kind of busy, I might have missed some things.”

Kenobi rolled his eyes fondly and held up a hand as he turned away to find some privacy for the conversation.

General Unduli took up the conversation. “With the chancellor no longer able to control the Guards, it would be safe to move your injured friends to the Temple’s Halls of Healing, if you would like.”

They were all a little taken aback by the offer.

“The Temple, sir—ma’am?” Loops asked.

“We still can’t be sure there aren’t others who can control the chips,” she explained. “Until then, especially in the upcoming wave of attention and public reaction to the chancellor’s death, it might be safer for them in the Temple.”

Unfortunately, she made good points. Do-si-do didn’t want to know what kind of backlash or outcry or whatever would happen after word got out about the chancellor’s true nature, and about the clones who had brought him down. They nodded, looking to the other Numbers and the commander.

Commander Bacara seemed to hesitate for a second. But, eventually, he nodded too. “Yes, ma’am, that sounds like the safest plan. We have a ship we can call for transport.”

Faye raised a gloved hand. “So do we, Bacara, if you need the extra room.”

General Unduli nodded. “I will let you take care of your own, Commander,” she said with a smile. “I will meet you all at the Temple.”

She turned to follow Kenobi, presumably to find whatever transportation they had taken here. Or maybe they’d just take the shuttles back. Do-si-do was far more interested in the Mandalorians they hadn’t met yet.

“Well, that was fun,” said the Mandalorian in black and purple armor. The remark sounded genuine. “I’m Aykhaal Ves. If you must refer to me, you can use they, them, and their pronouns.”

Do-si-do smiled under their helmet. Aykhaal sounded so confident saying that. It was nice. It was… hopeful.

Faye shook her head, one hand resting protectively on her kid’s shoulder. “Apparently, they had the bright idea to sneak this little one—” she poked her kid’s helmet— “over there to surprise Dooku.”

Do-si-do tilted his head. “That was you?”

The kid nodded. “I’m a clawdite, yeah. I’m Iskender.” After a glance at Aykhaal, Iskender added, “And if you have to refer to me, please use whatever gender makes the joke funniest.”

Aykhaal chuckled while Faye shook her head yet again. “Anyway, it is very good to meet you all. You fight well. Maral’s been talking about her little brothers for ages now, so it’s nice to meet at least one of you,” she added to Commander Bacara.

He looked at her for a second, his face unreadable behind his helmet. “Thank you,” he said finally. “We have several unconscious people to transport,” he went on, pointing to the Noodle Bar. “We should do that now.”

Aykhaal gestured to the way ahead. “Lead on, al’verde.”

How's that for a way to get rid of a Sith lord? I think it's hilarious, personally. All of Clan Ves belong to @23-bears and they are all wonderful, I hope you enjoyed them. @theultimatesandwich @rndmpeep @mercurydancer @thechaoticfanartist

#i write things sometimes #tcw fanfic #the clone wars #clone trooper ocs #mandalorian ocs #commander bacara #luminara unduli #obi wan kenobi #count dooku #star wars fanfiction #number lads

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stars-n-spice · 9 hours

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But You Won't Understand (All the Things That I Am)

all my fibers say to run away // count my little scars, I’ve got dozens down inside // I come complete and invincible behind my dirty imbecile

Word Count: 5.7k Warnings: N/A Summary: Khea makes a decision. One that's nothing short of reckless.

It had been nearly two years since Jovaz had approached Khea with the proposal of running away with him to Concordia to join the Kyr'tsad, only for her to refuse. Since then, Khea hadn’t seen or heard from Jovaz and feared that she might not ever see or hear from him ever again.

That thought was just one of the few things that kept her up at night, tossing and turning in bed with the too thin blankets as she begged her conscience to shut up for once and grant her sleep. Never once had sleep come easy to her. Especially not now in the quiet steel dorms of the Academy where her thoughts seemed to echo within the walls that seemed to be suffocating her slowly as the nights dragged on.

She tried to tell herself that Jovaz and his whereabouts were the least of her worries. Afterall, she was so close to being top of her class, to proving to everyone she could be her brother, but better. She had worked so hard to get to where she was and she was determined to keep it that way and not let her thoughts on her brother deter her from making a lasting impression on the Academy.

Deep down though, when the nights were especially dark and lonely, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing all of this. Why was she trying so hard to please, to impress, to shock and awe when she could just retreat out of the spotlight? On the surface, she chalked it up to being stubborn as hell but she knew that wasn’t it, at least not completely.

No, deep down, Khea knew that she was doing this to try and make amends; to try and fix what Jovaz had broken. She was picking up his pieces in the aftermath of his departure and was hastily trying to glue them back together by bringing pride and honor to her Clan. By showing her parents they shouldn’t worry about what was becoming of their oldest because they had her and she would succeed in the ways that Jovaz hadn’t. By showing the Academy she was more than her brother who had run off the moment he had the chance to. By showing Mitcan a good example of an older sibling and hopefully take some of the pressure off of him as he navigated his first years at the Academy.

Khea knew, deep down, she was only trying as hard as she was to clean up an image and put on a front. She almost wanted to make it seem like Jovaz never existed in the first place, but it was hard to when his presence still lingered in the Academy and haunted their Clan’s stronghold’s halls.

She couldn’t help but feel guilty for doing so, for trying to erase the brother she cared so dearly for and the moment she realized that’s what she was doing, the shame and guilt was so much she didn’t do anything but sulk in her dorm for two days. During that time, she thought everything over, reflecting on all the years she spent with her brother before he just up and gave all of that away.

And it hurt to reflect, by the stars, it hurt. Khea spent those two nights clutching her pillow, tears running down her face and body trembling as she wondered if she was the reason why he went away. Wondering if she had been better, maybe Jovaz would’ve wanted to stick around her. Wondering if she should’ve done more to keep him around and convince him to stay. Wondering if maybe…just maybe she should’ve gone with him.

After that, Khea continued to attempt to stay at the top of her class, doing what she could to come up on top as the strong, capable, fearless, and ruthless Mandalorian the Academy hoped to make her into. The kind Jovaz would’ve been proud of. Though now it wasn’t to pick up the pieces and hide what had been broken, but to train herself to be ready to go off and find Jovaz; bring him back and fix things for real.

She did what she could and earned praise and acknowledgement from mentors and peers, but as satisfying as all of that felt, it wasn’t enough. She wanted, needed, to hear that praise from Jovaz. She didn’t want the praise from her teachers who only knew the side she presented to them as a student. She didn’t want the acknowledgement from fellow classmates who only said the things they said to not seem jealous or to try and get in good cohorts with her in hopes of elevating themselves. No, she wanted to hear it from her brother. Hell, she wanted to hear it from her mother.

But when did the galaxy ever give her the things she wanted?

“Kriff this,” Khea growled under her breath as she kicked over the wastebin in frustration before angrily throwing her desk chair aside as well; making a mess of her dorm.

She’d just finished with her training for the day, her body exhausted from the extensive drills and her mind consumed with that feeling of dissatisfaction as another day went by with her feeling out of place and misunderstood.

She knew it was stupid of her to feel this way, to be wallowing in self-pity as everyone praised and complimented her for her hard-work and her growing skills but she couldn’t help but feel like it was all superficial. They would never understand, never fully grasp why she was doing what she was doing. She knew that she wouldn’t have been treated like this if Jovaz was still around, if she didn’t try as hard as she did to prove a point. She knew that behind her back they all whispered and compared her to her brothers; how she wasn’t nearly as good as the ultimate warrior Jovaz and how she couldn’t possibly compare to the sweetheart Mitcan. She knew they were saying things to make her happy, saying all the things she wanted to hear. Nobody ever told her what she needed to hear.

It was frustrating as hell and everytime she came back to her dorms and her mask cracked and crumbled away, a nagging voice in the back of her mind urged her to leave it all behind because at the end of it all; it was pointless. They’d never understand.

She was sick and tired of it all, and all she wanted was to finally get away from everyone and everything. It was why she loved her breaks so much, even if back at home Jovaz still haunted her, but at least when she was home she didn’t have to deal with the superficial or double-bladed words of her teachers and peers. Instead she had to deal with her stoic mother who never gave her praise for anything she did after Jovaz left, her father whose praise was out of pity, though well meaning, and her brother’s, who Khea felt wasn’t the same as the praise that would’ve come from Jovaz.

It wasn’t much of an improvement, but it was home.

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