Long-Lost

"So, General?" Dia leans forward with an eager grin, swinging his heels against the side of the examination table he's perched on. "Are we heading back to Coruscant?"

Shaak Ti smiles serenely, her hands folded into her trailing beige sleeves. "I have not yet discussed it with Captain Alpha-17."

Dia likes Shaak Ti. Her presence is calming, and she's kinder to Dia than anyone else on Kamino – she doesn't treat him like an outsider or a curiousity.

"He said we did well," Dia tells her, wincing as the Kaminoan doctor, Nala Se, plunges a needle into Dia's arm. "And we both did almost perfectly in our Republic history courses."

Shaak Ti hums in agreement. "Your engineering training also went quite well."

"Open your mouth," Nala Se instructs, and swabs something over Dia's tongue.

"Why do I need another medical exam anyway?" Dia asks, leaning around Nala Se to frown at Shaak Ti.

"You are not a perfectly-engineered specimen like the clones," Nala Se tells him coolly. "In fact, your health is substandard. My report, general." Ignoring Dia's glare, Nala Se hands a datapad to Shaak Ti.

The Jedi general flicks through the report appraisingly. "Diaro's readings have improved greatly since his last exam," she remarks. "The effects of his early-childhood malnutrition have reversed completely, and his chronic pain is no longer a limit to his physical capabilities."

Nala Se narrows her eyes at Dia. "Still, he is not healthy enough to properly serve the Republic."

Shaak Ti looks up. "You believe him unfit to assist the Coruscant Guard?" 

Nala Se scoffs. "A normal Human can hardly compare to the superiority of a clone. I advise you resettle him on the nearest planet. He will only drag Boba down."

Her words sting like a whip, but Dia is undaunted.

"No," he says firmly, surprising the doctor and the general. "I'm staying with Boba."

Nala Se stares down her flat nose at Dia in disbelief. Dia tilts his chin up and fixes the doctor with a fiery glare.

"I won't leave his side," he insists. "We're a team. General, you know we work better together. Shoulder to shoulder, like the captain says."

Shaak Ti nods thoughtfully. "True – your individual scores have continuously been inferior. I will consider it," she promises with a gentle smile that fades as she meets Nala Se's gaze coolly. "I will also discuss your medical clearance with the doctor. You're dismissed, Dia."

Dia hops down from the examination table, making a face at Nala Se from behind Shaak Ti's back as he skips from the room.

---

Taking a deep breath, Boba wipes away the last of his tears, then presses the lid back down onto the crate in front of him. He pushes it under the lower bunk, which might as well be the only bunk for how little Dia uses the top bunk. They both sleep easier curled next to each other, and Dia finds everywhere too cold after years on scorching Tatooine.

Already under the bunk is Dia's stash of rations nicked from the canteen. Boba thinks that habit stems from going hungry as a slave, but Dia grows ashamed whenever Boba tries to talk to him about it, and Boba's never been much good at talking.

Boba stands, running a hand over his short hair. It doesn't bug him so much, but Dia had sobbed as the Kaminoans had taken shears to his head and his soft curls dropped to the ground. Boba notices how he still reaches absent-mindedly for his ponytail sometimes, only for his face to fall when his fingers drift over empty air. Hopefully the uniform restrictions are less intense on Coruscant.

"Tsk." Boba clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Dia is so intent on returning to work with the Coruscant Guard that Boba's begun to go along with it, even if prison is definitely preferable to being surrounded by clones for five whole kriffing years. Dia understands – or tries to – Boba's discomfort around the clones. Likewise, Boba understands how Dia would suffer in prison. Maybe it's lucky the decision's out of either of their hands.

Dia should be at his medical exam now, Boba thinks, walking to the door. I'll catch him on his way back.

Stepping outside, he closes the door behind him and starts down the hallway. He gets no farther than a few steps before he hears chattering voices approaching from the training rooms.

Kriff, the cadets. With a groan, Boba turns on his heel, and collides into someone.

"Oof!" the other person exclaims, stumbling backwards. "Oh, sorry!"

Boba starts to wave them off, but freezes mid-motion. The child standing before him is a clone – there is no doubt about that. With blond hair, a rare enough mutation, but more shocking is that she's a girl. It's happened before, Boba has heard, but normally those clones are destroyed before they're decanted.

The clone reaches towards Boba anxiously. "Are you hurt? I wasn't paying attention, sorry." She seems to think better of reaching out and quickly tucks her arms behind her back.

Slowly, Boba shakes his head. Another abnormality of this clone shocks him: she's not wearing the usual cadet uniform. Her clothes are finer, tailored, and a pendant hangs over her forehead. 

"You're… you're Alpha, aren't you?" she asks, brown eyes wide.

Boba narrows his eyes. Only the Kaminoans insist on calling him that. "My name is Boba."

"Oh, right. It's just that I'm…" The girl smiles nervously. "I'm Omega."