SWRC: OC-49 (Part 2)(Book 2.75)

Chapter 1 Separation Anxiety.

Quickly hiding any evidence of the call, Raptor disabled the communications equipment that had still been functional on the blackened and scorched former vessel of the Clone Troopers.

"Any luck?" asked Tye, navigating his way around the mess that had once been his ships communication centre. "No such thing," grumbled Raptor, kicking a useless piece of former material beside him. "Comms are blown to hell. Everything else is also either damaged beyond repair or nonexistent. We ain't getting this thing off the ground. It's a grave ship now."

"Damn," cursed Tye and caste his eyes around the remains of the ship that they stood in. Raptor almost felt bad for deceiving the man before him, but knew how to expertly manage his emotions and fields, especially around other Force-Sensitives, no matter how little and limited their power may be.

It wouldn't distract him from his mission either.

"You seem off," said Raptor casually.
"Anxious is a better way to put it," replied Tye, not looking at him. "This has been our home for over a decade. Was coming up to a decade and a half. To see it destroyed and most of my family missing, it's... it's really d-difficult."

Raptor was slightly surprised by the stutter, but asked suspiciously,
"How long are you normally apart?"
"What do you mean?" asked Tye, keeping himself together momentarily, but Raptor could hear the subtle undertones of sadness in his voice.
"How long are you normally apart from everyone else?"

"C.T and I are never apart anymore," whispered Tye, concerned of what the man may thing of their relationship but needing someone else to talk to other than his teasing and childish brothers. His voice gained confidence as he began to talk about his brothers.
"Most of the Company are Childlikes as we call them. They are the mental equivalent of children and as such, are not permitted to join combat or missions until they are either old enough or want to. We have others that are what we call Mission-Readys. If they chose to, they are the members who are the equivalent of Active Duty soldiers and can accept missions given to us from clients. Most have divided themselves into small teams, often their Kamino training squads, and we even have a number of Mission Readys that are not Field Operatives. They have other talents, like doctor-medics, tech or weapons specialists or communications, whatever. They are on Base with the other childlikes, myself and C.T, also acting as responsible, though I use that term very loosely, adults and mentors to the older childlikes."

"So, simply put," said Raptor, interested in how their system worked. "A couple of weeks is the most you're ever apart?"

"Three months was the longest that we were separated from some of our operatives," confirmed Tye. "That was very stressful, for all involved."

Raptor was concerned by his response.

"C.T claimed that I was the most concerned, not the pair that were waiting for any response from their missing squad mates," said Tye, remembering back. Tye smirked and added, "I think it has something to do with basically being their adoptive father, a buir as they call me."

"Mando'a," said Raptor. "I didn't realise clones spoke it."
"Not many do," sighed Tye. "I learnt it from Vax, before he went insane. So did C.T and it seems that somehow the rest of the cadets also learnt Mando'a, even though the Kaminoans thought we were too stupid and/or did not need a second language. How they learnt, no one ever confided within me however."

Tye smile faltered as he added, "They would tell me many things about Kamino that I never knew. C.T and I were almost raised completely separately from the rest of the company."

Tye then whispered, "I believe many of them thought of me as the parent who loved them no matter what. The parent who kept them safe. Or was supposed to anyway."

"Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la," said Raptor, placing a gentle hand on the scared and broken clones shoulder, knowing that, even though Tye hadn't told him directly, all clones were touch starved and taught that just shy of all forms of touch were wrong and inappropriate and not necessary for soldiers. He himself knew that to be false but wasn't about to let Tye into all of his knowledge just yet, as he left Tye alone, speechless.

Fluent.

The first word that came to his head. Their mysterious rescuer who also had a way, and a want, to help them find their lost brothers, was fluent in Mando'a.

As his words resonated within him, Tye couldn't help but feel proud and ashamed at the same time. He, who was also fluent in Mando'a, knew exactly what they meant and the significance behind the words.

"Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be."

Or, quite literally, to emphasise the importance of the father's role in Mandalorian life, where he is judged more by his role than his own lineage,

"Bloodline is not important, but you as a father is the most valuable thing."