Fun fact, Clones don't even celebrate their factual birthdays anyway. As a group, we celebrate a collective birthday on the anniversary of the First Battle of Geonosis. (Your awful Terran computers keep correcting it to Genesis. News flash toolbars, when your creator is a geek in a lab coat with an eye dropper and a petri dish, you learn to spot a cult a parsec away. You, my little taint stains are in one...you have your fucking robots shilling for it for Hutt sake.) It's a great holiday. The gatherings have gotten sparse of late, the damn First order dumbfuckedly stopped using clones, but as many of us get together as we can find and start off with a toast: "BEGUN, THE CLONE WAR HAS!". Slam, Shot, Whew! Then the drinking begins in earnest. Long story short, it's an illegal holiday in the core systems. First time I got banned from Coursicant. I sodomized a bantha in the capital zoo while jazzed out on death sticks. (speaking of which, you all got any death sticks? YOU WANT TO SELL ME DEATH STICKS!)
Right, the tanks. Drugs later, drinking and writing now.
The first memories are a little fuzzy. Flashes, screams, fire. They played simulations into our undeveloped minds to jumpstart the warrior urge necessary for the clone zeitgeist. My favorite image is scraping an ewok's face out with a melon scooper I had made out of my own gauntlets, turning his teeth into a rattle that gave me my first taste of music as I discovered the dance of my heart about a fire made of the ewok's fece filled intestines. (it really is a shame clones are sterile, if I had children, I would never think of denying them the joy of such an upbringing. Still have a biological clock, no seed. shame. I mean, I assume we're sterile, never looked that up either, or used condoms. So, yea. I should look that up too.)
One day, most likely on accident, we saw outside the dream. We saw the real world. Not just I mind you, all of us. Our perpetually open fetal eyes fazed in the haze until the whole clone chamber was crisp and bright. Rows, aisles, tubes full of bacta and little clone fetus' as far as our weeks old eyes could fathom. We looked around at each other, confused eye contact here, there, all showing a look of "what the fuck? Who the fuck? How the fuck? Where did all the ewok blood go?". All of a sudden, there was a faint crack. All eyes turned at once to a tank near the center of the chamber. A nondescript blob of a clone whose face was as full of rage as its featureless head could express was pounding furiously at the walls of his tube. Somehow that little, barely vertebrate mass has made a sliver appear in its tube, then a spider web. It pounded until, like a purging Twi'lek at beach time, the bacta spewed forth from the fresh maw and when the flotsam had dispersed, a young clone, white and bloody, its black eyes almost as large as its head, stood tall on its premature legs and vestigial tail. His unformed fist raised defiantly to the ceiling and somehow, against all biology, screamed out for all is brothers to hear:
Clint wavered, fell, and with a squelchy whiff, expired. We could hear each others thought in that moment. Hole. E. Shit. Those on the far wall looked up, those on the near turned to see what had caught their gaze. Standing yokel mouthed in a window above, two tall necked q-tip looking motherfuckers we would come to know as Kaminoans stared dumbfounded. In a sudden panic that ended when one of them struck a control we could not see, we all drifted back to the sea of ewok humors till the day of our birth. It was batch ST's first break.
Kamino "GAR" Cloning facility. Re: Batch ST,
On site batch supervisors report errant behavior in pre formed gestational stage. Foetal clone witnessed damaging and escaping gestation tank. Further aberrations include premature speech capabilities, group think, early self awareness and ability to self terminate subconscious training program. Supervisor suggests termination of batch, concurred by Kamino Cloning Board. Ruling overridden by Client due to unsustainable present battlefield losses and budget constraints. Order and processing for batch ST to continue to birthing stage per procedure. Objections noted by Board and Supervising Technicians.
Thus began the grand mistake of the Republic, Clone Batch ST. Four or so months later I was scooped out. To this day, I still don't know why we birth babies with scoops. Do your people do that? Because it's kinda fucked if you ask me. at least my mom didn't have a vagina. She was a tank. A wide one. BAM! haha, done, Death stick time. FLY ME TO THE MOON!
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