Fleshlings

[Cedric Grayson]

There was a child that needed taking care of.

Darius was still quite young. He was just breaking into his twenties, and at the end of his tenure as a Jedi Padawan. Soon, he would be knighted, and then the war would really begin for the young man. He was not, however, ready to help take care of a child. Fortunately, just because he was not ready did not mean he would not try.

Via the united Jedi Order's network, he had come to learn of a boy. A clone child of origins he did not know. One of the older masters had asked him specifically if he and [member="Mediha"] could care for the child for a period of time. At first, he'd outright refused. Their home was not the kind of place you would normally want children, and Mediha would not take well to an adolescent.

Not to mention that the relationship he had with the Nightsister was nothing close to the nurturing bond two traditional parents should have. They were barely friends, let alone romantic acquaintances.

And yet, he had agreed anyway. It was due mostly out of pity, and a bit of duty thrown in the mix. They had a home. This boy didn't. What harm was there in letting him stay with them? Surely he could, at the very least, keep the place feeling homely when the duo were away at war.

Darius waited quietly by the door, fingers digging into the sides of his chair. Was he anxious? Maybe a little bit. The boy was supposed to arrive soon via alliance transport, and then he was there responsibility.

This was going to be wonderful.

[member="3X744"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Maybe it had been the narrow escape from Trandosha.

...or the disastrous encounter with Drax Doofu over Ossus. Or that time at Tosche Station.

Whatever the case, the seers and councillors of the Jedi Order had decreed that former Jedi General [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] and ex-Clone Cadet 3X744 be separated before cataclysmic destruction could occur.

Again, that is. As it was, there was a rather lengthy scar across the surface of Lothal from where the pair had chosen to crash an old Consular-class Republic Cruiser.

Plus, Sor-Jan was no longer leading clone armies. So there really wasn't any reason for the small clone of Jango Fett to continue in the Jedi's company, other than the fact that 3X744 had no other place to go. The Silver Jedi had tried taking him in, placing him among a youngling clan on Voss for a time. The end result of which was disastrous, as the child's need for regimental discipline and the wild nature of some of the younglings had clashed with sometimes violent results.

They'd considered sending him to the Mandalorians, except there were still some sensitivities over the skirmish that had unfolded between the Republic and the Mandos. As for the Republic, it's present political and military crisis left it uncertain that it ought to handle any refugees. Even those from its own past.

Surprisingly, it was a Jedi of the Galactic Alliance who had offered to answer the call. And now the small, copper-skinned boy was on a transport to Sullust. Standing on his knees, the youngling plied his hands against the transparisteel window that offered a view out to the alien world below. The ever-present backdrop of space melted into an atmosphere of color and light, as the world below replaced the sea of stars with a terrestrial landscape that he was told would be his new home.

As the shuttle landed a few moments later, a droid caretaker led the small boy toward a dwelling. As the announcer was rang, the small boy stood in wait to see what his new Jedi commander would be like.

[member="Darius"] | [member="Mediha"]​

 

[Mediha]

Mediha still didn't know what the kark he'd been thinking.

The fight that had erupted when Darius had announced he-- not they, he, for she was not involved in this-- would be taking in a child had been more vicious than any they'd yet had. Words had been said that could not be unsaid, items thrown that could not be repaired, and magick expended that perhaps had been-- she admitted in sullen hindsight-- unnecessary and unkind. At least Darius's reflexes-- and perhaps his insight into her character-- had been enough to save him from injury. It had been close for a moment there.

Mediha was present for its arrival only because she wanted to know immediately how much trouble they were going to be in. Children were worthless until they learned skills. Always trouble, always underfoot, always a liability, and, worst of all, as it wasn't even hers and therefore had not been raised with Dathomiri teachings, potentially foolish and misguided. She had no idea what ridiculous ideas the child's head would have been filled with. It had been taken care of by the Jedi Order before this, and Darius was taking it in now. He was not always unwise, but he had his moments. At the very least, it would have an unrealistic level of idealism that, even if Mediha had been inclined to assist in its growth-- which she was not-- she likely would never be able to break. Months as roommates and combat partners and [member="Darius"] still hadn't released the vast majority of his ignorance. It was a hopeless cause; she very much doubted any child would be much better.

And it was a male. Yes, some males seemed to function-- Darius, as an example-- but a girl would have been so much more beneficial to her. Girls could be trained by the Sisters, especially if she showed magickal or Force-related promise. Well, if it stayed for an extended period, it could be a future Nightbrother, perhaps. Her clan would need some once she had the basic structure and members in place. Mediha would know how viable that option was once she saw it.

The ring of the bell slowly drew her gaze across the room. She had put as much space between herself and Darius as she could, which meant he wound up closest to the door. Mediha's position changed as she turned and leaned her hip against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest as her cold, pale eyes bore holes in Darius. Things had been going relatively well lately, too, before he'd recklessly pulled a child into their chaotic lives.

Unbelievable.

[member="3X744"]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

[member="Mediha"] was not very pleased, though Darius had come to accept that as her default mindset on most things. The Nightsister was rarely a fan of his decisions - he was far too soft in her eyes. He'd learned not to take it personally. Still, he knew he'd gone a bit over the line with this one. A child was a commitment, and he was allowing one into their home, much to her displeasure.

Not that it could be helped. He could hear the speeder landing outside.

"Just be nice to him. I'm sure he's a good kid," Darius cooed to his roomate, a hint of amusement lacing his words. He knew the cold reception he was about to receive - it might, at the very least, provide some manner of amusement.

Then the doorbell rang. Cracking a nervous smile, the Jedi Padawan made his way toward the door. He drew in a deep breath, mumbled a quiet mantra to center himself, and opened it wide.

There stood a young boy, perhaps ten, and a droid caretaker. This had to be the one then.

"H-hi there. I'm Darius -...come in." He chewed down on his lower lip as he stepped aside to allow the child within. Perhaps he was not as ready for this as he had thought himself to be.

[member="Mediha"], [member="3X744"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

As the door opened, the boy found himself looking up at a human man with a light complexion and dark hair.

What was he supposed to do? Should he report in? How would he do that, he didn't have a rank or belong to a clone unit anymore. Luckily, the man spoke first, relieving the boy of having to speak first. Instead, he could simply respond to the orders given him. Speak when spoken to.

"Yes, sir," the boy answered politely. "Hello, sir," the child chirped, echoing the man's greeting as the blue-clad youngling crossed the threshold into the home. Turning, the boy stood just inside the doorway and awaited further instructions as to what he should do next.

As the droid deposited the boy's belongings -- a change of clothes and some toys -- on the doorstep, the Mandalorian youth realized there was another adult in the room. Turning his head, the boy looked over at what appeared a human woman as he offered, "Hello, ma'am."

[member="Darius"] | [member="Mediha"]​

 

[Mediha]

Mediha's stare could have cut glass.

It was a child. Distant and not unkind was the closest to "nice" she would get with it. This was Darius's play. She had no obligations to assist him. If he thought he was going to saddle her with the responsibility he had taken on, he was going to be very disappointed, though she doubted he would be surprised by it. If the credit she had given him earlier was valid, he shouldn't be surprised, anyway. Though she was still angry, it was a good reminder to herself that just because it was around didn't mean she would be cleaning up after it. The reminder was a consolation to her that helped to break her silence.

"If you wake up tomorrow, consider yourself lucky," she commented as the doorbell rang, her eyes finally moving away from him. Mediha's gaze was briefly sardonic as Darius affected a bracing pause before he opened the door. Not so sure as you thought, are you? Save the child, don't think about the consequences. All will work out. Typical.

The child that entered was a little different than she had expected. Quiet, patient. She eyed it as [member="Darius"] offered stuttered, awkward greetings. Pathetic. The child didn't seem to notice Darius's difficulty in speaking and was deferential in its response. Militarily deferential. That could be promising. Perhaps it had had other, more adequate caregivers before the Jedi got it. Mediha's gaze pierced [member="3X744"] as it moved aside to allow the droid to enter and leave his things. The politeness could all be a ruse, of course. Children were sometimes deceitful; being polite until you had a sense of your surroundings and captors-- caregivers-- was smart.

When it turned its head and offered her a simple, polite greeting also, Mediha silently surveyed the child, expression not hostile, but not warm either.

A clever child, then. I'll have to keep an eye on it. Who knows why the Jedi were trying to get rid of it.

Mediha's gaze flicked back to Darius and then to the droid, acknowledging in one glance that the small pile it had set down contained only one change of clothes and a few odds and ends. Good. Darius could take it shopping at the Alliance's supply stores today and get it out of her hair.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Everyday that I wake up, I'm lucky.

Shaking his head, Darius stepped aside as the child made his way in. The boy was not as he had expected, though that was not a bad thing. He had manners, thank the force. Darius had trouble dealing with disrespectful adults, let alone children. With a warm smile, the Jedi Padawan picked up the boy's belongings in either hand and shut the door behind him.

There was a moment's silence as he shuffled the child's luggage to the center of the room. The house wasn't particularly large - he and [member="Mediha"] made a living, but they were nowhere near wealthy. He'd set aside the work closet alongside his room for the boy. It was large enough to serve as a temporary living space until he could figue out something more permanent.

"My name is Darius. That's Mediha," he gestured toward the Nightsister as he returned the the young man's side, "She's, uh, my roommate." He smiled. "What's your name?"

[member="3X744"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The youngling's head moved from one side to the next as the introductions were made.

General Darius. Or was it commander? Was he a Jedi or a padawan? And the other was Mediha. The boy's head tilted as he took another look at the woman. Was she also a Jedi?

The child's head returned to look up at Commander General Darius as he was addressed. "Three-Ex-Seven-Four-Four, sir," the boy answered, rattling off his designation. It had been so long since anyone had called him that, it was almost strange hearing his own name spoken aloud. "My friend calls me 'Three.'"

Yes. Friend. As in, singular. Not plural.

[member="Darius"] | [member="Mediha"]​

 

[Mediha]

Mediha didn't miss the missed plural, didn't miss any change in tone or expression or a shift in body language. Her hawkish gaze caught it all and assessed it, though there was no real information forthcoming. As much as Mediha thought walking away and letting Darius handle it was the best option, there were questions that should really be answered sooner rather than later. Questions Darius would be too delicate to ask about. It didn't escape her notice that it hadn't done more than answer the questions put to it.

"Why do you need someone to take you in?" She moved forward, magickal presence diminished and body language equally nondescript. Hostility would not get her what she wanted right now, and it wasn't really the child she was angry with. She simply couldn't trust it. "Why would the Jedi or your previous guardians not keep you?"

Darius wouldn't be happy with her. Mediha opted to ignore him, pale eyes choosing to bore through the child now instead of her partner. Give it the chance to lie its way out. Any answer or lack thereof will tell us something. But will Darius listen to what that something tells us?

[member="Darius"] [member="3X744"]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Three? That was quiet the name. Darius didn't know how to take it, so he let [member="Mediha"] prod the boy with questions. Granted, he was non-too-pleased with how she asked them, one needed to be gentle in this sort of situation after all, but that really couldn't be helped. With a heavy sigh, the young Jedi went about closing the doors and locking them up as the Nightsister drilled the little soldier.

He seemed disciplined, at the very least.

"Why the numbers, Three?" He asked as carefully as one could in this sort of situation, "Just curious." He offered the boy a warm smile. The kind Master Sedaire had given him as a young boy to reassure him. Gods knew Mediha wasn't going to help the child get comfortable in his new home.

With an easy gait, he settled into the only sofa they owned, and leaned back to watch the shenanigans. If Mediha asked something he did not like, he would step in. Otherwise, he was content to hear what the little one had to say.

[member="3X744"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The boy listened through the woman's first question.

He didn't him or haw, but he did pause to think about it. That allowed him to catch her second question as well. Then General-Commander Darius asked a question, which seemed to answer the Mediha lady's question as well.

"I'm the seven hundred, forty-fourth clone of the Thee-Ex series clone trooper produced by the Republic at the Kamino training facility," the child stated, as easily as one would have said their name. Because that's just what he had done. "I was made for the Clone Wars."

For a boy who was eight hundred sixty, he was aging well. "We were traveling in hyperspace an' somethin' happened to our hyperdrive," the boy stated, holding out his arms as though uncertain of what else to say or how to describe it. "Then... then, we were here and the Republic was different, the Jedi were different, an' there wasn't a Clone War anymore."

And so he was a Clone Trooper without an army. Or a war.

And no one knew what to do with him.

If he was spinning tales, he was the one nine year old in the history of nine year olds who had a clue about the Clone Wars.

[member="Mediha"] | [member="Darius"]​

 

[Mediha]

Mediha's knowledge of the galaxy was somewhat limited, and she didn't know what these Clone Wars were. She hadn't known the Republic had employed clones in any of their wars, let alone had as many as was suggested by the child's moniker and the nickname for the battles it was referring to. Or it was lying. Mediha didn't have a good angle to get a look at Darius's face to confirm the words, so she studied the little bug before her. If it was lying, it was a complicated and easily proven lie, which might be at odds with the child's character which had been evident thus far-- unless it was banking on them not looking.

So the argument was that the Jedi took in this time-lost child, didn't know who to give it to once they had it, and therefore searched for a suitable environment to drop it into, in spite of its history as a born-and-bred soldier.

If it was true, Mediha could potentially put that to use. If it wasn't, more was the pity-- for the child.

At the very least, it might explain the entrance and the attitude. Military discipline, she had thought. It was a thought to save for later, when [member="Darius"] wasn't watching them.

"How did you end up in the Alliance if you are Republic?" It was the one nagging, niggling loose end in his story. Now, her eyes flicked to Darius. "Who brought you to us? To the... cause, since we are not always allied with your Republic."

[member="Darius"] [member="3X744"]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Darius knew very little of the clone wars. Admittedly, the young man's education in galactic history was rather lacking. In times like these, when Sith held all the power, one needed to focus on more martial disciplines rather than the lore of the past. That did not mean that he didn't regret not having that knowledge. He pressed his lips into a thin line and tried to mull over what Three had said. If the boy wasn't lying, and Darius was rather sure he wasn't, then he was a boy out of time. The Republic of today was a very different animal than that of the past, though it seemed to be following the same path.

"No, now there's a war with the Sith. The battles aren't as numerous, but it's just as bloody." Darius piped up as [member="Mediha"] asked her questions. They had a little soldier on their hands. Fortunately, Darius knew how to handle that given his experience with the Black Ravens.

"Of course, I'll never to ask you to fight in it. From what I understand of the clone wars, your in were bred to fight, nothing else. I figure a lot of them wanted something different," he paused for a moment, "What is it that you want, Three?"

[member="3X744"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

He was four.

Well, four and a quarter. But, still, a lot of these questions were starting to go over the boy's head. "I don't really know," the youngling answered, even as he was trying to understand it as well. He came from a time where there was one galactic government and one Jedi Order. Now there was like a ba-gillion galactic governments, and almost as many Jedi Orders, Councils, Conclaves, Academies, and whatever else nerf herders were calling themselves these days. "'cept, my Republic doesn't exist anymore, ma'am."

That much he knew. "It was dish-solved by Chancellor Palpatine into a Galactic Empire."

Okay, so he could work on his vocabulary. His history game was pretty flat. At least, in terms of 19 BBY. Beyond that, all bets were off.

In the same respect, Commander-General Darius' question was probably even more confusing. "Uh..." What did he want? Like, when he grew up? "I'm a Clone Trooper. No one's ever asked me that before," the boy commented, as if that was the answer to the question. He was a clone. He was going to grow up to be... a clone! Clones were clone troopers. Or, were they stormtroopers now?

Three didn't really care for the name 'stormtrooper.' The word 'clone' wasn't even in it.

He was also accustomed to being told what to think, or do, or how to act. "What should I want to be, sir?" the youngling asked finally.

[member="Darius Sedaire"] | [member="Mediha"]​

 

[Mediha]

Mediha scoffed at Three's response to Darius's question and turned away to prevent getting into an altercation with Darius over her behavior. Either the child was an excellent actor or she was giving it far more credit than it deserved. How old was this child? Already it was ingrained with a set of beliefs and behaviors, but its inquiry to Darius after she had turned her back said that perhaps it would still be malleable to a change in mindset, if approached correctly. Certainly, it seemed eager to adopt others' opinions as its own. She would have to see how far that went and if the dependence would be a help or a hindrance. The concept of turning its military training to her advantage was seeming more likely now.

"Darius," she interrupted, hoping to stave off the long speech that its question was sure to prompt. "Perhaps getting our new guest settled is a better idea than broaching existential questions in the middle of the living room." She turned back to him, then gave Three a quick glance. A number rather than a name: even that fit into the idea of the perfect slave. She had never considered it before, but the idea of a clone program was one the Alliance should have explored for the sake of numbers.

She'd keep an eye on it, but, for now, Darius would raise it without any interference on her part. If it managed to avoid undermining them in any way during its first week or two...

The thought trailed off as she passed by the pair on her way back to her room. "Let me know when you're going out to get him more belongings. I have several items I'd like you to pick up, if you pass by their respective locations." Which he would, if she remembered the layout of Sullust at all.

[member="Darius Sedaire"] [member="3X744"]