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CC-2001 was considered a disaster when it came to vehicles. An absolute disaster but somehow, by the grace of the Gods above or whatever was considered divine intervention, CC-2001 wasn't decommissioned for his – quite frankly – dogshit scores when it came to any kind of driving. CC-2001 was more likely to commit vehicular manslaughter on both the vehicles themselves or on sentients. His other scores were good enough and with all the other clones who were already good or even great at driving or piloting, the Kaminoans just...let him live. They trained him harder to make up for his one lacking area but...it was worth it. At least to CC-2001. It had to be. He wasn't decommed – or Gods forbid terminated to be reused elsewhere because obviously there was something desirable about him to keep him kicking. Maybe CC-2001 was an experiment.
Wouldn't be the first time a clone with a score below par was kept alive to see why that area was so pathetic. So he pushed himself harder, stayed up late memorizing and practicing and would push himself harder just to prove it wasn't a waste to keep him alive.
And then came everyone's first deployment; Geonosis. CC-2001 and a group of other clones would be tasked with joining General Kenobi, Commander Skywalker and Senator Amidala in chasing down Count Dooku.
Turns out CC-2001 is very, very fucking lucky. He had managed to fall out of the gunship with the senator, even though some of his brothers had died being shot down as they were taking off from the platform.
Senator Amidala would jokingly call him 'Crash' after having survived his first real attempt at driving and he decided he liked that as a name and kept it. Crash would be put into service under a Jedi Master he honestly doesn't even remember anymore, a humanoid-twilek male hybrid with a more peachy pale complexion that just looked...a little wrong honestly. Uncanny with his emotionless look and detached tone when addressing his soldiers. He didn't like the Jedi but what would he expect from a nat-born anyway? Compassion? Please don't make him laugh. Even the brief 2 month stint of where to put him, Crash knew the nat-borns didn't view him as a person but as a product like a Seppie droid.
It was still better than the new general Crash got after his previous one died. An unfortunate casualty in all honesty. As much as the general had been a bit of a cold ass towards Crashs' men at least it was just indifference. Crash went from being a Commander, a good one at that as his records would show, to being demoted to Captain for the 13th Shadows. Sure he got to work under the Outsider, second only to Kote in terms of perfect scores but that awe and admiration was quickly overrun by the feeling of wrong. Like he needed to get as far away from General Reece, more preferably to behead the man like he was a threat.
Reece was a Jedi though, had been an upstanding one from what Crash had gathered from eavesdropping.
Nothing had prepared the captain for just how wrong all those rumors were. Little Gods above he was a nightmare made flesh to put it simply. And the whole 13th was left to the outskirts with this dangerous man, no matter how roguishly handsome he made himself seem.
It took a while for Crash to get used to talking properly with only half a tongue. Reece had been so precise in cutting it in half down the middle, Crash had almost choked on his own blood but the poor medic Ferret had managed to save his life. Sure, some words still escape him but at least he can talk. Even if it's a little slower and more emphasized. It was this event that Crash had learned to stay his tongue – no pun intended – when it came to interrupting General Reece for anything. It didn't stop him from stepping in where he could when it came to Reece's abuse towards Outsider. He was normally so jovial, a balm to the scared troopers in the face of the angry toxic inferno that was their Jedi general, but could Crash hate.
And hate he did. If he was a Jedi he'd have long fallen to the darkside. Fast and hard and willing. Sometimes Crash can hear an oily whisper telling him to kill Reece, make him suffer though he ignores it and just chalks it up to being sleep deprived and never jotted down that he might actually be Force-Sensitive, like Outsider, like some of his closest brothers. It wouldn't be long after Reece kills Ferret that they would get a new medic transfer, Dott, and immediately Crash took him under his wing to shelter him as best he could like with the others – like how Outsider takes the brunt of all the abuse, the torture just to make sure all the vod were taken care of and as safe as could be under these circumstances.
Since deployment, none off the Shadows could contact any of the other battalions, a total comms blackout so they couldn't even ask for help or to check in on anyone else to see if they were getting hurt too for being clones. Reece had taken all forms of outside communication from them, leaving the Shadows with just personal contacts.
Pier'ika was his most reliable brother. Swiper was stupidly good at swiping what he was told to get and with Crash's order of getting reports of the other battalions, they could finally get something about their brothers and they...Crash honestly doesn't know what to think about it. The 212th and 501st have the worst casualty rates besides for Krell's men who seems to be – while not as bad as Reece – bad at keeping his men alive. The turnover rate of those three battalions seem way too high to be truly acceptable. He was honestly curious about why Rex was transferred to the 501st. It seemed like an interesting story since he was such a good ARC trooper for the 212th.
Over the course of a year and a half, Crash and some others could obtain more scars that weren't even close to being from the battlefield.
Because of Crash's tongue situation, he doesn't take his helmet off much. And add that his slightly damaged vocal cords – no thanks to Reece – he honestly needed the assistance of his helmet vocoder to not sound like some slurred nat-born or that he came out wrong with a speech impediment. He only took it off for showering, sleeping, eating or some kind of emergency. Thank the little Gods that Reece couldn't care less about whether he wore a helmet or not.
Crash honestly just wants the war to be over. He wants out, either by decommissioning or death by battle, he just...he's tired. And every Shadow around him, he could tell, was also tired. Angry, various stages and types of hurting, and so damn scared it was an honest to god surprise that their emotions all haven't been fried completely leaving them all numb to literally everything – feelings; pain, pleasure, happiness, any and all positive or negative emotions. Hell he's surprised no one has committed suicide at this point under all the abuse, both mental and physical. Pushed to such extremes that surpassed all their training on Kamino.
When was the last time Crash – or any Shadow for that matter – cried?
Crash couldn't believe his ears when Reece, with such a reluctant and sour expression, told them of the shore leave they have gotten at long last back on Coruscant, they were expected to arrive within 2 to 3 standard weeks depending on where they currently were.
With a hard swallow, Crash risks a glance at Outsider who looks about ready to fully break. Even though he wasn't showing anything Crash has spent nearly every waking moment with his Commander and could just tell. Even that funny little feeling that was cluing him into the true feelings of Outsider.
Left alone, they both broke down into each others' arms, clinging to each other tightly with all the strength they had. For the first time since the tears had been beaten out of them, their bodies remembered how to cry again.