Clone Senki or The Cloneya Wars QQ-Fork (Open Round Robin) (Star Wars x Youjo Senki)

[Scopas]

Posting with permission from FallQM, this is a fork from the Space Battles Cloneya thread for any content inspired by the original concept that doesn't comply with the community rules of SB. I will repost the first few chapters just to give anybody interested here a taste of the original thread.


Original SB thread post:


This post is for Round Robin information, skip it to get right to the first Tanya-line.

Established with the help and advice of Readhead, L4 of the WEST and Starstruck91

The origin of this madness started with the simple musing "What if there was more then one Tanya?"

This will be an open round robin anthology set within the Star Wars universe during the clone wars with Tanya from the Youjo Senki universe taking the place of the clones.

In this universe all the Jengo Fett clones are replaced with clones of Tanya, most of these clones have memories of her first and second life before being reincarnated in a Kaminoan clone chamber. However, every clone is very slightly different and might have different perspectives on things as per the writer's prerogative.

All of the Tanya that remember past lives will attempt to keep any mention of said past lives secret from the other clones.

Each Tanya will have a code, ie "CT-7567" and a nickname.

Clone trooper commanders received the designation CC-(number) or CRC (for clone regimental commander).

Null-class Advanced Recon Commando were designated N- or Null-.

Alpha-class Advanced Recon Commando were identified with an A- or Alpha- designation, and clone commandos the RC- (for Republic Commando) designation.

Clone trooper captains and Clone trooper lieutenants were designated CC- or CL-, respectively.

The CT- designation was for Clone trooper sergeants and rank-and-file clone troopers.

The practice of CC or CL being given was phased out during the war as later on CT clones were promoted to fill such roles and new clones were largely given CT designation.

And thus, tens of thousands of Tanyas have to deal with the utter brilliance of Jedi leadership while they look with envy at the few Tanya who manage to get peaceful postings in the rear. By the end of the war there are over four hundred million Tanya, how much can you handle?

For ease of following and threadmarking clone storylines please at the start of your story post your Tanya's clone ID at the top of the post as well as a nickname if she has one, thank you.

 

[Scopas]

Originally posted by FallQM on Space Battles: https://forums.spacebattles.com/thr...-star-wars-x-youjo-senki.977956/post-80222503


CT – 0216 'Blinker'

"Settle in girls. Just got word that we are shipping out." The Gunnery Sargent at the front of the cramped troop transport called out. Her helmet was held at her side so her face could be seen by everyone in the craft's hold. Short cropped blonde hair, blue eyes and even the lips. Being X was such a hack, there was no way a reasonable cloning organisation would choose a soldier platform that resembled a five-foot nothing girl. After lying about the last life, he threw me into this one where I had to pretend to be a mindless biological drone to survive.

Every day was spent talking to, training with and having to live with minute variations on my face. Or more accurately, the face he gave me. Surrounded by combat maniacs quite happy to have been born into the servitude of a clone soldier. Of course I had to play the part, I was under no illusions that the Kemanoens would think twice about 'decommissioning' a 'defective' clone. Quite frankly it was a miracle that they allowed the even mildly divergent.

I still have nightmares about that batch without 20/20 vision.

"Shipping out? The buyers finally decided to deploy us?" The girl to my right inquired. CT-8935 or 'Shorty' she was one of the mildly divergent compared to the standard genetic makeup of the rest of us as she stood a whole head taller than most everyone else. Except the Kamanoens of course. Her mutation meant that some of her equipment had to be custom fit to her.

"That's all I was told trooper, no parade for us today."

There was a sort of nervous, restless energy displayed on behalf of my sisters, it was understandable given the context. I had only heard hours ago that a small Republic fleet had jumped into the system and were currently in low orbit waiting for any clone divisions that could be scrambled on such short notice.

Years of training and simulations only to be thrust into a refitted Republic cruiser with thousands of my fellow clones. I had held onto some small measure of hope that I would never be activated and that I could have a peaceful life but of course that was just me being delusional. I steeled myself, we had to make a good impression in order to justify the cost and our continued employment. There was no way that ant sane Galactic Republic would allow any other power to buy a discount clone army after all.

The Jedi Order, the monastic cult responsible for funding our formation, served the galactic republic as a peacekeeping and diplomatic branch of government. It also had access to an understanding of this universe's magic and utilised it to remain an important political entity. Strangely from what I had read in the Kemanoan archives the powers to raise an army, or purchase one in this case, was not a legal right of the Jedi Order. I highly doubted that the Kemanoans were contracted without the Republic Senate knowing however.

"Coming in for landing." The clone in the cockpit of the transport craft called over the intercom system and the few clones that had taken off their helmets quickly donned them and braced for the soft lurch that indicated that the craft had settled on a platform. A moment later the side door on one side of the craft slid open.

I turned to look out at the huge hangar bay. The transport had landed in an area with force field generators on all sides to keep an atmosphere inside each ship's berth. I honestly felt a little bit sick as I glanced up and saw the black void of space. The clean white armour we were outfitted with had only very minor environmental protections installed.

"Eyes front Blinker!" My head snapped down as the Sargent had us form a square, the transport that had carried us up quickly taking off and breaching the forcefield without any noticeable disturbance in the air with the pilot returning to the ground for more clones. I grimaced at the use of that annoying nickname I was saddled with almost a decade ago. It was not like I was the only clone to blink when shooting a blaster!

The Sergeant for her part had a hand to the side of her helmet as no doubt someone tried to relay information to her in this chaotic mess. I did feel some sympathy for Lefty, deploying an army with less then a day's notice was an insane proposition and no doubt our command structure was an overworked mess.

"General, good to see you sir." At the Sargent's words every clone including myself made an effort to stand up straighter. From behind the square walked a young man in an earth tone loose robe and what I suspected was a laser sword at his hip.

"Greetings Sargent." The teenager replied as he looked over at the rest of us. He frowned as if he did not quite like what he saw and I was glad to have my helmet on. General? Don't tell me the damn monks wanted to get involved in the fighting? The sensible thing to do was promote competent commanders from within the clone core into strategic positions. Of course, that had the added benefit of opening up positions all the way down the line. There might even be a spot open for me to move into the officer's track. A little enlightened self interest never hurt anyone but incompetent leadership hurt everyone.

I was still a bit sore that I was denied access to the officers track because they printed "CT" on the glass tube I was grown in. Still a dozen or so clones had moved into officers training over the years to fill gaps left in training accidents and 'training accidents'.

My concerns could be unfounded of course but I doubted that a religious order that had seen a thousand years of peace was going to be a competent leadership element. But then who cared what I thought? If I complained then I was likely going to find myself looking at a plasteel wall with my dear sisters holding blasters to my back.

"I understand we will be dropping with you sir?" Sarge inquired, seemingly sending the Jedi out of his daydream.

"Ah yes, we are going to be joining an active rescue mission as an… exit?" My heart sank as the so-called 'General' looked around for help.

"Uh, an extraction sir?" Sarge offered.

"Ah yes that, I don't expect we will be needed, there are hundreds of Jedi down there. At the sight of that many lightsabers igniting as one, anyone would surrender."

"Of course sir." The diplomatic words seemed to satisfy the man as another LAAT landed in the berth and a squad marched out into their own square just as the ship's large hangar door section slid closed with enough force to shake the entire ship. A voice over the ship's intercom informed us that we were now in hyperspace.

"Get ready for a hot insertion girls. Our job is to deploy and secure an area while extracting all VIP's. Let's show the Republic what they paid for! Am I understood!?"

"Yes Sargent!" Came the shoutback reply. Such things had been drilled into me over the ten long years of this life. In my second life I had in hindsight barely been trained at all. In this one Training was all I knew, if the bloodthirsty and unrestrained behaviour of some of my sisters was any indication a lifetime with nothing but training left something to be desired.

I let such thoughts leave me as the girls and I filed out and began to check over our equipment again as the Jedi meandered around to make awkward smalltalk with clones who had much better things to do.

This was going to be a long day. I dearly hoped I was just being paranoid and this situation was a lot more stable than things appeared.

I would be finding out in less than an hour regardless. I offered a short curse to Being X and rechecked the power cell on my carbine.