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fandomweekly2021-04-22 03:30 am
rivulet027) wrote in fandomweekly2021-04-22 03:30 am
Entry tags:
[#091] Reciprocity (Star Wars)
Theme Prompt: #091-Vengeance
Title: Reciprocity
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 758
Summary: Banks get rescued after Order 66.
Reciprocity:
Banks knows gold is for vengeance. He understands why some of his fellow clones decide on gold. Green or blue feels more right to him and living for the duty they’ve had drummed into them since they were decanted makes sense to him. Red doesn’t make sense. Then he starts working with Master Swan after the mission on Ozneck and he begins to think he can understand red.
She’s kind and she cares about the men she’s leading. He learns how to trust again, gradually. She teaches them about the Force and sometimes it feels like she’s talking to him. He wants to ask questions. He suddenly not sure that the way he can always find his target is just math, because he can always see the trajectory so clearly. He’s not sure how to phrase what he suspects. A Force-sensitive clone, that doesn’t make sense, does it?
Banks does manage to ask, “Are you going to get a Commander to teach, sir?”
Master Swan smiles at him. “Aren’t you my Commander, Banks?”
It’s almost confirmation. Then she tells him she’d wants to introduce him to Master Windu the next time they’re on Coruscant at the same time he is. That day never comes. There’s always another mission, always more Separatists to fight.
Then Order 66 happens. The order comes in to him and he knows immediately it means he’s supposed to kill Master Swan. He doesn’t want to kill Master Swan. It’s difficult to focus on why following the order feels like betrayal when he can feel the men around him lose the familiarity that makes them the individuals he knows. The blankness around him is dizzying. He thinks he manages to tell Master Swan to run, that he can’t really fight this for long. What good is running from a man that can always hit his target even if he aims to blast his shot off several objects?
Then everything is orders and serving the Empire. When he wakes up his first thought is that maybe Master Swan is alive, maybe. His second thought is that they’d become as bad as the Separatists.
“Easy,” the man, who fought him to a standstill and then did something so he can think clearly for the first time in months, says.
Banks lets himself clutch at the man’s vambraces and stare up at a Mandalorian helmet with two purple lines running down it. Banks runs his gloved finger down the lines, then stares at his gloved hand. It’s not white. They’re not allowed colors anymore. They’re not individuals anymore. They’d been turned into the flesh droids some of the trainers always wanted them to be. Those trainers are the reason he never understood red.
“How did you find me?” Banks asks. He’s not sure this is the right question.
“The Force led me to you. I’m Glitch,” Glitch says, then tilts his helmet back so Banks can see he’s a clone too. “You shine very brightly in a universe that’s very dark.”
“Shine?” Banks manages.
Glitch nods. “Are there any other clones? We need to escape before any Inquisitors get here.”
Banks can only think of one. There might be more. They don’t remove their helmets unless it’s necessary. As they wait Glitch explains that there’s a control chip in his head. Then he shows Banks how to break it. Sinker introduces himself after removing his helmet and gasping for several breaths.
“Can you fly?” Glitch asks. “I need to teach Banks how to hide that he’s Force-sensitive.”
“I can fly,” Sinker tells him. “I just need to know where we’re flying to.”
When they’re safely in hyperspace and Glitch decides that Banks no longer shines like a beacon he gives them armor and shows them where the paint is.
“I’ve been grey and red,” Sinker says as they both stare at the jars of paint.
It’s good to be able to decide on colors again.
“Maybe both,” Banks suggests.
“Red to honor Plo and Wolffe,” Sinker decides in a soft voice. “Grey because I can’t forget…”
Sinker pauses to run a hand over his face. He shakes his head, then asks Banks what color he’s thinking about.
“Red for Master Swan,” Banks says.
Red as blood, which he’ll never feel like he can clean off his hands, but also red to honor the leader who taught him about the Force and that he could care again. He can keep her memory alive. He can pass on what she taught him. Red can be a type of vengeance too.
Title: Reciprocity
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 758
Summary: Banks get rescued after Order 66.
Reciprocity:
Banks knows gold is for vengeance. He understands why some of his fellow clones decide on gold. Green or blue feels more right to him and living for the duty they’ve had drummed into them since they were decanted makes sense to him. Red doesn’t make sense. Then he starts working with Master Swan after the mission on Ozneck and he begins to think he can understand red.
She’s kind and she cares about the men she’s leading. He learns how to trust again, gradually. She teaches them about the Force and sometimes it feels like she’s talking to him. He wants to ask questions. He suddenly not sure that the way he can always find his target is just math, because he can always see the trajectory so clearly. He’s not sure how to phrase what he suspects. A Force-sensitive clone, that doesn’t make sense, does it?
Banks does manage to ask, “Are you going to get a Commander to teach, sir?”
Master Swan smiles at him. “Aren’t you my Commander, Banks?”
It’s almost confirmation. Then she tells him she’d wants to introduce him to Master Windu the next time they’re on Coruscant at the same time he is. That day never comes. There’s always another mission, always more Separatists to fight.
Then Order 66 happens. The order comes in to him and he knows immediately it means he’s supposed to kill Master Swan. He doesn’t want to kill Master Swan. It’s difficult to focus on why following the order feels like betrayal when he can feel the men around him lose the familiarity that makes them the individuals he knows. The blankness around him is dizzying. He thinks he manages to tell Master Swan to run, that he can’t really fight this for long. What good is running from a man that can always hit his target even if he aims to blast his shot off several objects?
Then everything is orders and serving the Empire. When he wakes up his first thought is that maybe Master Swan is alive, maybe. His second thought is that they’d become as bad as the Separatists.
“Easy,” the man, who fought him to a standstill and then did something so he can think clearly for the first time in months, says.
Banks lets himself clutch at the man’s vambraces and stare up at a Mandalorian helmet with two purple lines running down it. Banks runs his gloved finger down the lines, then stares at his gloved hand. It’s not white. They’re not allowed colors anymore. They’re not individuals anymore. They’d been turned into the flesh droids some of the trainers always wanted them to be. Those trainers are the reason he never understood red.
“How did you find me?” Banks asks. He’s not sure this is the right question.
“The Force led me to you. I’m Glitch,” Glitch says, then tilts his helmet back so Banks can see he’s a clone too. “You shine very brightly in a universe that’s very dark.”
“Shine?” Banks manages.
Glitch nods. “Are there any other clones? We need to escape before any Inquisitors get here.”
Banks can only think of one. There might be more. They don’t remove their helmets unless it’s necessary. As they wait Glitch explains that there’s a control chip in his head. Then he shows Banks how to break it. Sinker introduces himself after removing his helmet and gasping for several breaths.
“Can you fly?” Glitch asks. “I need to teach Banks how to hide that he’s Force-sensitive.”
“I can fly,” Sinker tells him. “I just need to know where we’re flying to.”
When they’re safely in hyperspace and Glitch decides that Banks no longer shines like a beacon he gives them armor and shows them where the paint is.
“I’ve been grey and red,” Sinker says as they both stare at the jars of paint.
It’s good to be able to decide on colors again.
“Maybe both,” Banks suggests.
“Red to honor Plo and Wolffe,” Sinker decides in a soft voice. “Grey because I can’t forget…”
Sinker pauses to run a hand over his face. He shakes his head, then asks Banks what color he’s thinking about.
“Red for Master Swan,” Banks says.
Red as blood, which he’ll never feel like he can clean off his hands, but also red to honor the leader who taught him about the Force and that he could care again. He can keep her memory alive. He can pass on what she taught him. Red can be a type of vengeance too.
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