Star Wars The Bad Batch: The Runaway

Chapter 36 - The Funeral

Hope you guys like this chapter! It's got a little fluff, though the ending is kinda angsty.

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Scar woke up at first light to do some light exercises which included special ones for her leg that had been broken. It was to ensure that the limb would gain back its full strength and work properly.

Once she finished, she wandered into the bathroom adjacent to her room and after a slight debate she decided that taking a nice, relaxing bath sounded amazing. And the soaps and bath salts weren't too strong for her sensitive nose, so by the time Scar finished she smelt of flowers, a stark contrast to oil, dirt, and sweat. Her hair, which usually felt coarse and frizzy, was now soft and silky thanks to the shampoo and conditioner she used.

It almost felt wrong when Scar began putting on her standard GAR issued blacks that had a few tears here and there - and since unscented soap was used to wash them they still had a faint odor of oil that never went away. Her armor was next and it hadn't been all the way cleaned and repaired since the crash landing. A sizable crack was on one of her shoulder pauldrons and in a couple other parts of the armor.

You know what, screw it. I'm not wearing this.

Normally Scar wasn't so vain, but for some reason the girl wanted to look her best for this funeral. There were going to be dozens of Jedi, Scar wanted to show that she was more than just a clone soldier, which is what the armor would only represent her as. The Jedi, though it pained her to admit it, were of a higher rank - as if the luxurious temple they lived in were any indication. Even if it was just for today, Scar wanted to be more than a clone soldier, which many thought of as even lower than a civilian even. War machines were what a lot of people called them.

So, she slipped on the outfit worn last night and put her hair in its standard bun at the base of her neck. While Scar didn't feel it was much, at least it was a step up from the armor.

There was a knock and Scar went to answer it. It was the protocol droid from last night.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mistress Scar, but Mistress Padmé sent me to collect you for breakfast. Master Jace will be here in less than an hour." Scar gasped and her head snapped to the clock on the nightstand.

"Oh karabast!" She swore, and C-3PO began to sputter at her language, "I didn't realize the time!"

"E-Excuse me?" The droid stuttered out, appalled at Scar's choice of wording, "I don't think such language is proper for a young lady, if I must say so." This made Scar roll her eyes.

"Oh please, I'm anything but a lady, 3PO." She stated bluntly, not the least bit ashamed by the fact.

"While I won't disagree with you on that, I must ask that you refrain from using those words in front of the Senator." Scar rolled her eyes a second time.

"Fine, whatever." Scar stepped around 3PO and made her way to the dining room, not bothering to wait for the protocol droid to follow.

"Oh! How rude!" 3PO exclaimed, displeased with Scar's treatment of him.

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Jace had used one of the Jedi Temple's speeders provided to its occupants to pick Scar up instead of wasting credits on another taxi. And if he was being honest, riding in a taxi would force him to have a conversation with Scar and right now he wasn't in a very talkative mood, for obvious reasons.

Scar was a bundle of nerves as she hopped off the speeder and preoccupied herself by fixing first her clothes then her hair which had both gotten messed up on the ride over. Unfortunately without a mirror she couldn't tell how bad the damage was. Sighing, she took off the clip holding her bun together, allowing her wavy hair to cascade down past her shoulders and end just above her waist.