Private Of Theory & Principal

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //:
//: Attire //:

A few days had passed since they had returned to Jutrand. 312, while feeling better, was still needed for observation. Quinn had only performed that skill a few times in her life, most never being as close to death as the clone had been. She didn't sleep most days, finding that every time she closed her eyes, the small trooper was back to being bloody, or she had failed in her attempt to heal her.

She was curious, they hadn't been close — but there was trust. Quinn dragged the woman around, hiring her for odd jobs and keeping her close. She wanted to know more; she wanted to know everything about the clone. Still, 312 kept a wall between them, professionalism she called it. It irritated the Echani, knowing that if she could break through the wall, potentially things could be different.

Sighing softly, Quinn stood from her desk, her comm device pinged, alerting her that the clone had received the summons. 312 had been out of the infirmary for a few days now, letting herself find her footing after the ordeal of the Kaggath. Quinn felt like the woman should have remained in bed a few more days, but as every soldier 312 wanted to be back on her feet.

Today, 312 would arrive at the academy on Jutrand. A guide would take her down the long hallways leading to the Princess's office. There, a small board would be set up, with a desk and other items such as mind puzzles and items that dulled the physical senses. Each tool was to help one channel an element of their force energy.

Quinn knew 312 had some semblance of the Force, and with the transfer of life, she would most likely have a higher midichlorian count, receiving them from Quinn herself. She waited, her arms crossed over the front of her chest as she wondered if she was favoring the clone trooper too much. She had an apprentice and students to teach, but why was she going out of her way to prepare and aid the trooper?

A small smile curled at the corner of her lips as she deep down knew the answer. 312 was a constant; Quinn could rely on her, and she wanted to. Simple reasons, but reasons that resounded deep in Quinn's heart.

The door would slide open, and the Echani Princess, doing her best not to sound too excited, looked up and smiled widely,

"Welcome to your first day of school, 312."

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin //:
//: Attire //:​

Several days had passed before CT-312 was finally permitted to move freely. The infirmary staff on Jutrand had insisted that the Princess’s orders were for her to remain under observation. She tried to argue that she was fine and ready to be put back on duty. It did not matter. CT-312 had been confined to the medical bed beneath the soft sterile lighting. Only after a few days, she was allowed to move around, but still monitored.

It was disorienting.

The Scout wasn’t accustomed to this type of stillness. Lying here or doing nothing. Forced into recovery unsettled her more than the injuries themselves. Yet, the injuries were gone. Not healing… Gone. Old scars that CT-312 carried since her earlier deployments had vanished. The faint tension in her shoulder from an improperly set on Woostri had disappeared. Even the deeper aches she had learned to ignore no longer linger. It was as if none of these existed in the first place. CT-312’s body felt restored in a way that was almost unnatural. But something felt off.

Since the Princess— No. Since Quinn had pressed her hand into core and did… whatever space voodoo magic… Her mind recalled the pain and agony of her body slowly stitching itself back together. Something had altered within her. It wasn’t weakness or damage. It was unfamiliar. Feelings constantly surfaced without warning. A tightening in her chest or a warmth that spread unexpectedly. A pull in her mind that she could not categorize or suppress. CT-312 didn’t have a terminology for it and that bothered her. She was trained to identify variables and assign structure to chaos. This had no structure.

CT-312 brushed the sensations aside, forcing it into a category that made sense to her. Confusion. She had nearly died and the Princess had intervened in a way that defied everything the Scout understood about balance and consequences. CT-312 was a soldier. A defective manufactured one at that. A failure built for compliance and efficiency. Expendable. Why would Quinn bother helping something like her?

When BARCA pinged with summons to the Academy, CT-312 accepted it without hesitation. Movement was preferable to confinement. Tall windows stretched upward as marble and stone framed the massive corridors. The building felt immense, not only in size but in presence. As she entered the grounds, CT-312 became aware of something pressing against her senses. The atmosphere felt charged and dense, just whenever—

Freaks.

Her gloved fist tightened at her sides. TK-710’s voice echoed in memory, blunt and dismissive. CT-312’s thoughts drifted back to the Kaggath arena, power used without restraint. Remembering how it felt…

Make them hurt.

The phrase lingered longer than it should have. CT-312’s jaw began to clench. A low growl began to form in the back of her throat as her hand instinctively slowly started to reach for her weapon—

CT-312 blinked behind her visor as she was greeted by the guide. Her jaw unclenched slowly as she exhaled. The gloved fist loosened, fingers uncurling one by one before settling back into their neutral position at her sides. The sounds of boots on the polished ground kept her grounded. Why would the Princess require her presence here?

The question resurfaced every time they passed students. Some cast curious glances towards her armor, while others avoided eye contact entirely. Was she here for protection detail?... Against what, exactly?... Children?

Her helmet tilted slightly at the thought. The idea was absurd, but not impossible. If ordered to neutralize a threat. She would not hesitate simply because it was a student’s uniform. Still… the idea did not align with the Princess’s tone in the summons. Suddenly the guide stopped before a set of doors. “Her Highness’s Office.” Stepping off aside. CT-312 remained still for a brief moment. An old reflex surfaced from basic training. Standing outside a superior’s door— it meant evaluation, correction, or… reassignment. The memory lingered just long enough to tighten something in the Scout’s chest.

CT-312 drew in a controlled breath and stepped forward. The doors parted open. “CT-312, Reporting in.” Her tone carried the same discipline as it always did. The doors sealed behind her. Eyes observed the Princess as she looked up, smiling. Raising a brow, it wasn’t a diplomatic smile reserved for public appearance… ‘What–’ Her tone was one of enthusiasm, the words spoken took a moment to process, having to travel through layers of disbelief before settling into comprehension.

Welcome to your first day of school, 312.

‘You got to be shi—' Did she hear that right? CT-312’s visor shifted toward the board, then back towards Quinn. “Excuse me, Princess…” in a respectful tone with a hint of uncertainty, “Aren’t I too old to be playing—” Her gaze drifted to the desk— what is that? Are those puzzles? Amongst other items. “—school?”

Looking back at the Princess, “I am confused.” CT-312 admitted plainly. So she was not beating up children? Or was that the joke? School. There had been no academies for her. No classrooms or childhood instructions. “I’ve already received formal education and combat instructions. It was not conducted within an academy environment.” Bright sterile labs. Voices of scientists and drill instructors arguing cognitive load thresholds. Projection and data charts hovering above her while information was forced into her developing mind at an accelerated rate. “Only flash training and live simulations.” Remembering the sensations of it. CT-312’s brows furrowed. The overwhelming flood of tactical and strategic knowledge, it felt as if her mind was going to melt.

An anomaly. CT-312 had overheard enough of discussions to understand at a young age that she was that test subject. “Despite my normal growth cycle compared to my accelerated counterparts, I received the identical curriculum. I completed the required coursework.” Long nights. Repetition until precision became instinct and reflex. Discipline for deviation… correction for error. CT-312’s visor fully settled on the Princess.

“I passed my classes.”

CT-312 recalled from an earlier summons, on a parchment paper. “Professor of Force Theory.” A subtle pause. Her tone held no mockery, just honest skepticism and lingering confusion. “I am fairly certain I understand how gravity and physics work.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //:

As expected, the Trooper was instantly reluctant to what was being done to her. Quinn continued to smile as she listened to the ramblings, the quiet justifications as to why this was unnecessary — yet all of it fell on deaf ears. Quinn knew exactly the training the Trooper had gone through; she had easily accessed the woman's files and explored a bit of her origins, the parts that weren't classified…

It was enough for the Princess to know that this was necessary. Not only to help the Trooper understand what had occurred in that bathroom shower, but also understand the world around her. More often than not, she had heard the rumblings of the quiet logic that justified things the Force did.

At first, Quinn had found it cute. But as time went on, she realized the woman was honest about these justifications. Shaking her head, Quinn pushed off the desk and brushed back her platinum blond hair.

"Your training and learning were a bit lacking in the field we're going to cover." She laughed softly at the final comment about gravity.

"Yes, I am a Professor in Force theory, but not in that sort of sense… the more mystical essence." She nodded, and with a flick of her wrist, she let a little flame dance on the tip of her finger.

While pyrokinesis wasn't a speciality of hers, she still was able to manipulate the Force enough to show it off.

A cute party trick.

"The Force is something that influences every living being," She mused and let her eyes flicker from the flame to 312.

"Even you."

She continued the flame, dissipating as she waved her hand and moved closer to 312. As uncomfortable as that moment was, it was important, and it was what made them bond. That was for a later lesson; she didn't want to bombard the clone with too much information right off the bat.

"Have you ever had a moment?" she started, her voice soft as she stood close to her guard.

"Where you could almost predict something before it happened…" her eyes watched, searching for some recognition in 312's eyes, her face, anything that told Quinn that her hunch was right.

"Or thoughts and feelings that weren't your own?"

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin //:
//: Attire //:​

CT-312 stood at attention as she watched the Princess's movements as she pushed off the desk. Behind the visor, her eyes faintly narrowed at the words being spoken to her.

Her training and learning were lacking.

That alone made something in her posture stiffen, barely enough that most would have missed it. CT-312 had spent years of observations. Enduring comparisons to her cloned brothers, the endless scrutiny while receiving strict corrections. She understood too well what it meant to be evaluated and judged insufficient. Even now… after all the missions and assignments, from all the scars she had once carried across her body, the words still stung. Old and familiar.

Lacking.

Her visor remained fixated on the Princess as she clarified. Speaking of Force Theory as something mystical, what did that even mean? CT-312 remained still as the Princess lifted her hand. A tiny flame appeared at the tip of her finger. The Scout’s gaze locked onto the light. Her initial reaction was not awe, but suspicion. BARCA began its rapid analysis as the HUD shifted across her vision. When the results returned, there was nothing unusual. Without speaking, CT-312 reached up and disengaged the seals of her helmet. A soft hiss followed as it was lifted free and tucked beneath her arm. Revealing the half-mask beneath, with more expression visible in her eyes then she usually allowed. Somewhere caught between scrutiny and disbelief.

The Scout studied the flame in silence. Blue eyes traced the Princess’s fingers to her sleeve, then to the space around her wrist, waiting for the trick or illusion to reveal itself. CT-312’s jaw tightened at the mention of how the Force influenced everything, including herself. That answer sat poorly in her mind. She continued to keep silent as the Princess continued. The flame vanished with another wave of her hand.

As she stepped closer, CT-312 did not step back. Noting the close proximity, her shoulders remained squared with her head and eyes facing forward looking past the Princess, posture disciplined. The softening in Quinn’s voice made the moment feel stranger. It was as though what was being asked belonged to a conversion meant for a much smaller space than the room around them. CT-312 had a deadpan look in her eyes, her response was automatic.

“In combat, predicting something before it happens is not unusual.” Her tone came off flat and matter-of-fact when laying out obvious operational facts. “A soldier is supposed to notice things before it happens. My designation is a Scout, I am meant to be the eyes and ears. I specialize in observation and recognizing patterns.” CT-312’s eyes still stayed focused somewhere beyond the Princess, rather than directly on her. “You see enough variables constantly that eventually the outcome becomes obvious before the motion itself begins.”

With her head still facing straight forward, blue eyes quickly darted towards Quinn. ”I believe it's called—” deliberately punctuating each word “—a. gut. feeling.” Just as quickly, she broke contact with the Princess, looking at the far side of the room once more. But there have been moments... Moments where her body had reacted to danger before her eyes or ears had confirmed. CT-312 slowly exhaled through her nose. The second question was something else entirely.

“That…” CT-312 felt the truth settle uneasily in her chest. “That is less easy to explain.” Her gloved fingers flexed once at her side before going still again. “Recently, there have been things I have not been able to sort properly.” Her voice lost a fraction of its certainty, just enough to suggest the answer sat in unfamiliar territory. “Feelings that I am unfamiliar with suddenly surface without cause.” It was distracting. CT-312 was careful in how she spoke. “They do not follow logic and they do not feel… entirely like mine.”

Trying to make sense of it all, her thoughts kept circling back to damage. “I did take several types of grenades at point-blank range.” Working through the problem aloud now. “Out of all of them—” recalling the fights. The concussive and thermal, those outcomes made sense. But the ravenous. TK-710’s words spoke clear as day in her mind on when and who to use it on. “The mist was the worst of it.” BARCA’s alerts flaring through her helmet. CT-312’s concentration and body began to fray as the illness worked its way through. “I think the ones I used may have been defective. But that doesn’t align with the results. All of my wounds have healed. Even previous ones. So it is not plausible that I am still dealing with a concussion from that.” This time, CT-312 turned her head fully to look at Quinn. Blue eyes focused on the Princess’s, searching for intent or an answer.

“That only leaves healing.”

The memory of it sat fresh in CT-312’s mind. Quinn’s hand pressed against her core. The sensation of her body being forced back together by something far beyond medicine or science. The warmth… the pain. CT-312 did not fully understand it. “A side effect from whatever that was and why I was placed under observation?” Her posture remained straight, “The healing gave me…” CT-312’s head tilted slightly as the words spoken aloud sounded strange even to her. “A concussion?” The idea made no sense the moment it left her mouth. It wasn’t possible… was it? “I do not like not understanding what is happening in my own head.” Her attention lingered on Quinn for another second before settling forward again. Her posture reasserted itself back into a disciplined stance.

“Also, my training was not lacking…” It was neither exactly offensively nor defensively. Just a correction she felt compelled to make before anything else could continue. CT-312’s tone was a bit quieter, but firm. “It may have not included—” a brow raised in skepticism. “Mystical essence. But it was not lacking. The training and learning I received covered what was required for me to fulfill my duties at the time.” The distinction seemed to matter. It was not deficiency, but design.

“As for that,” She nodded once toward the Princess’s hand. “I do not have an explanation. It resembles an illusion or some concealed mechanism meant to produce the effect. But… I did not detect one.” The admission bothered CT-312 more than the flame itself.

CT-312 glanced once toward the arranged objects on the desk. “If that is what you are referring to,” A hint of skepticism slipping back into her tone. “then I still do not understand how puzzles are supposed to help.”

Both brows raised up at once and a faint cheeky glint flashed in her blue eyes, “Unless the lesson is that near-death experiences result in being assigned to remedial education.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //:

Quinn listened; she had expected the resistance. She wondered if this was a case where the Trooper was too rational for her own good, too smart. But those were things that Quinn quite couldn't condemn. Those traits had kept the influence of others at bay; maybe it was better for the Clone to remain ignorant.

That one thought made Quinn pause. Would she be opening 312 to the potential of being persuaded in the Force? Her mind mulled over the thought as she continued to listen to the explanations that 312 was giving her. All of it was extremely rational, but she was missing a very key fact. Not everyone could do this, not everyone could identify the patterns, memorize them, and still react with such fluidity as she did.

A particular scenario was the Kaggath. The Trooper had faced off against two extremely powerful Sith, one being the Hand of the Emperor… his personal assassin, and the other a Dark Councilor. A normal trooper would not have been able to take them on as she did. In the same round, another Deathdrop agent had faced off against Mercy, but even then, the others weren't Force Users. Jacen had barely made it out alive.

Quinn nodded, seeing that there were too many ways for the Clone to explain the Force in a logical sense. The concept of a magical force entity weaving its way through living beings was too outlandish for her to comprehend, let alone want to.

"You're not wrong." Quinn finally interjected. She had learned a bit about the Trooper needing to talk her way through things.

"Everything you explained is things that a seasoned soldier should be able to do, even with the high-tech equipment that is offered." She smiled, knowing how much 312 had been attached to the items she had received before the Kaggath.

"I'm sorry if I offended you by claiming that your education and training were lacking." Quinn nodded, acknowledging her error in word choice.
"Your training has saved you and has protected me in the same vein. So to that I thank you and your creators… but I want to make a note and to remind you of the Kaggath."

Quinn stepped away and let the Trooper catch her breath after the entity of her explanation.

"I know you probably don't realize it, but 312, you went against some of the strongest Sith the Empire could produce. One, the ranger — she is the Emperor's Hand. She was the chosen champion of the Sith for that event. Her rank within the Empire… she only answers to the Emperor and Empress… in essence, she can choose to listen to the Dark Council."

It was the truth. Allyson Locke was above almost everyone in the Empire. If the Emperor wanted you dead, living through the night was unlikely. Even then, the Assassin often enjoyed tormenting her prey.

"The second, the man that you fought. He was a Dark Councilor. Someone who is ranked in power under the Emperor. It's where I currently sit in the Empire. Those two are not something an average trooper, even with the best equipment, can survive." She raised a hand, almost prepared to silence the Trooper as she figured she was going to point out that something had happened that allowed her to survive.

"Needless to say, you're not normal, you're not average… you're not defective… you're more than all of that. 312 I firmly believe you have access to the Force and that is what's been helping you…"

She let the words sit for a moment, then decided to address her questions about the healing.

"The healing… that was me, if you didn't remember. I used the Force to speed up your body's ability to heal, to regenerate. Through it I think… I feel we might have manifested a small bond. I say that… and I ask about your emotions because when I do focus on you in particular, I can sense you…"

Remembering the brief moment when the Trooper made her way here, she let her face soften slightly, a small wave of sadness echoing in her smile.

"You're not a fan of Force Users, are you?"