Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Echo wasn't sure what to think.

The whole mission had been one big disaster. They had tried to go after the war chest on Serenno, in hopes of securing a better future for Omega. But it all went downhill quickly, almost costing them their freedom or their lives, again.

Echo longed for a life, where they wouldn’t be on the run or staring in the face of death every other mission. It would definitely be something his crew would have to get used to. After all they’ve been soldiers all their lives, but he likes to image how things could be.

Working for Cid was alright, she provided them with enough resources to get by, but it wasn’t what he was willing to do for the rest of his life.

He didn’t want to admit it in front of the others, but he questioned the point of the war and their role in it. All the brothers he'd lost. And it all had been for nothing. Neither side had come out on top.

Instead, the Republic had been reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, courtesy of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine; now Emperor Palpatine. Order 66 had been the beginning of the end. The Chancellor had ordered his brothers to hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. And there was nothing the clones could have done about it.

Echo strongly believed that his brothers felt as much appreciation for their Jedi Generals and Commanders as he once did and doubted that his brothers would have executed the orders on their own free will. The organic chips, which had been implanted into every clone, possibly at an early stage in their growth cycle, had rendered them unable to disobey the orders given. The Bad Batch’s enhanced genetics gave them time to remove their chips before they had become slaves to the Empire.

Well, that was true for the most part. Who was Echo fooling but himself, they had lost Crosshair to Order 66 when he had hunted down Jedi Commander Caleb Dume. Hunter was able to stop their crewmember just in time to help the young Padawan escape.

Following this, Crosshair sided with the Empire working against his former crew. Upon encountering the Batch weeks later, he stated that he had followed the orders willingly because he truly believed the Empires cause to be just. Good soldiers follow orders.

Shivers were rolling down Echo’s spine even thinking about it. Wrecker's chip had been activated as well but they were fast enough to stun and free him from the mental prison that was the chip, with Rex's help of course.

Thanks to his brother, Rex and Ahsoka survived Order 66 and where able to free the Bad Batch, among other clones from their chips. Rex had told Echo about the chips and how Fives had discovered them. His investigation into the conspiracy was what ultimately had cost Echo's twin his life.

Echo was fuming with rage even thinking about it. His brother, best friend and twin had died, not on the battlefield like they were meant to, but in the depths of Coruscant. Rex didn’t share much of how Fives had died, nor who killed him, it had pained him to talk about it, so Echo didn’t push.

Regardless of how his brother lost his life, the clones were created by the Kaminoans to serve the Republic and lay down their lives, in the name of the Republic’s cause. To restore peace and justice to the galaxy, once more.

Echo started to wander deeper in thought, staring out into space while Hunter steered the Marauder, sitting silently next to Echo. He appreciated that Hunter left him alone with his thoughts.

He started to recount the events that had got him this far.

Echo’s journey started as a cadet on Kamino. His batch had failed the final test to graduate and become clone troopers. Bric—the Siniteen bounty hunter that had trained them—believed that Domino Squad was unable to work together as a team. Which was true to some degree.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti gave his squad a second chance to redo the final test, she had believed in them. And they had proven her correct. Echo presumes this opportunity, which was not just handed to just any squad, was the spark that bonded the team together. Their coordinated teamwork, ingenuity and dedication drove them to exceed expectations.

Following their graduation, they were stationed on the Rishi Outpost monitoring the airspace around their home planet. They were getting bored with nothing to do but wait for anything exciting to happen. He still remembers Hevy’s words “Uh, meteor shower.” The trooper sounded almost disappointed, implying that he’d rather wanted to see some action.

Who could have known their lives were about to change forever.

After the attack on the station, Fives and him where the only men, who were stationed on the Rishi Outpost, to survive. Marshall Commander Cody of the 212^th and Captain Rex of the 501^st came just in time to turn the tide.

Droitbait had been the first of Domino to lose his life, when the Commando Droids entered the station. He was gunned down before he could even realize what had happened.

After they had escaped into one of the many craters of the moon, Cutup fell victim to the vicious attack of one of the many Rishi eels that are native to the moon. They weren’t fast enough to react before the giant eel got hold of their brother.

Shortly after the Commander and Captain arrived and narrowly escaped with their life, after the Commando Droids blew up their shuttle. The three shinies came up with a plan—to use liquid Tibanna—to blow up the outpost and therefore ending the transmission of the ‘all clear signal’ to alert the Jedi of the imposing attack on Kamino.

It didn’t quite go according to plan and Hevy decided to stay behind sacrificing himself to save the others. The station went up in a fierce explosion. And jet another member of Domino Squad lost his life. Until only Fives and him were left.

They were fortunately extracted and brought back to the Republic fleet that had come into orbit upon the alert of the imposing invasion. For their bravery and ingenuity, Captain Rex decided that Fives and Echo would be sorted into the 501^st legion.

After having faced the loss of their brothers, Fives and Echo grew even closer. They were almost inseparable. Months later when General Grievous had successfully launched a second attack on the planet of Kamino, Fives and Echo fought hard to protect their brothers from the enemy.

According to Rex and Cody, both of them proved themselves worthy, showing valor and real courage during the battle, as well as inspiring greatness in others. Therefore, Commander Cody suggested that Echo and Fives go off to train to become ARC troopers. Echo remembers how honored he had felt. Not just anyone had the skills to become an ARC trooper of the GAR.

The training was hard, and they both had been seconds away from a mental breakdown numerous times, but this only strengthened their bond. They became twins, always able to tell how the other one was feeling. They could communicate simply through their body language, which not many soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic were capable of.

They had proven to the Commander and their Captain that they deserved the rank of ARC trooper in the following battels. Until. Until Echo had “died”.

Echo missed his original batch; his batchmates. Ever since they had died, the dark and empty pit in his chest; was all that remained of them.

Echo would lay down his life any day in the name of duty. He almost died during the rescue mission on Lola Sayu, when attempting to break Jedi Master Even Piell and his men out of the Citadel. But now, he wasn’t so sure about his place in the world. Helping clone deserter Cut Lawquane, his Twi’lek wife Suu, and their children Jek and Shaeeah, escape from Saleucami has brought forth questions that he hadn’t dared to think about, prior to the mission.

Ever since Wat Tambor, everything had felt so different, the galaxy had changed there was no doubting that. He wished he could have been there for his bothers and aided them in the fight against the evil forces of the Separatist. But instead, he had worked against them.

Not willingly of course, but that didn’t matter it was his mind that allowed the Separatists to defeat the Republic on many occasions.

He blamed himself, even though his squad kept reminding him that the Techno Union was to blame.

Echo was staring into the dark and empty ibis of space, thoughts wandering and recalling memories he had tried to suppress.

“Echo! Echo,” The Captain exclaimed with a pained look in his eyes as he hunched over Echo. “It’s Rex, I’m here.”

Echo had just regained consciousness. His vision was blurry, rendering him unable to focus.

His mind was racing. Suddenly he was back at the Citadel, his hand clenching tight around his blaster. He was holding the protective shield with his other hand, to protect himself from the many blaster bolts directed at him. The ship was settled down behind him. One step after the other he retreated up the ramp when he heard someone shout out his name. But the voice was mumbled and overtaken by a sudden burst of raw energy shifting Echo’s attention to the sudden explosion right behind him. And then everything was dark and silent. He had never felt so alone, he was unable to move or free himself. It felt like all hope was lost.

The gentle touch of his commanding officer’s hand on his shoulder ended that train of thought as quickly as it had started. He was finally able to look at Rex, his vision started to clear and fixed on his savior.

“Rex? You, you came back for me.” Was all he managed to say. His vocal cords were straining. He could feel the burning sensation when he formed the words with his lips. He had been unable to use them for so long that it pained him to speak. He didn’t know how much time had passed in between the mission of Lola Sayu and the present. But the wrinkles that started forming on Rex’s forehead indicated that it had certainly been a while.

The Captain looked exhausted. His distress was visible, and he had heavy bags underneath his eyes, big enough to house a womp rat. It was clear that Rex hadn’t slept in a while, his exhaustion was showing through more and more with every passing second. Tears started to form in Rex’s eyes, his voice was rough and shaky.

After a couple seconds of utter silence Rex finally answered Echo’s question with determination, looking regretful into his brother’s eyes. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Echo was still out of it; the effects of the cryo-freezing chamber still clouded his judgement. “What?” He asked confusion written across his face.

He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten here. Echo couldn’t tell if the Captain was real or not, or if it was another one of the hallucinations playing tricks on him.

This wasn’t the first time he had imagined his brothers saving him from the Techno Union, but this time felt different.

“What happened,” he asked. “Where am I?”

He spared a glance around the room and could see many control panels directed at a chamber that stood open above him.

He was sitting on the ground. Rex was squatting in front of him, keeping his hand on Echo’s shoulder to comfort him. The metal of the control panel was hard and cold, sending shivers down Echo’s spine as he was focusing on breathing.

“It’s okay, Echo. You’re safe now. Just sit tight, trooper.” Rex tried to convince him. He was holding onto Echo’s left arm squeezing it lightly to convince him of his presence. Rex shifted closer looking Echo straight in the eyes. Pain crept across the Captains face. “You’re going home” Rex promised.

Rex shifted his bodyweight to the side waving at another figure in the distance. Echo’s eyesight hadn’t fully recovered yet and he could only make out a rough outline of another individual. A clone by the looks of him. His heart started racing. A brother was with Rex. Fives? Or maybe Kix or Jesse? The 501^st finally came for him, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

The figure sprinted towards Echo and Rex after having processed the command. As he stepped closer Echo could make out his features underneath the helmet. He was a brother there was no doubt in his mind but there was something different about him.

He wore big round goggles, and Echo could swear a piece of light brown hair was sticking out underneath his helmet. It’s not uncommon for dye to color their hair in an attempt to change their appearance, but the color almost looked natural.

Which was certainly interesting because Jango Fett's phenotype produces black hair. It could very well be just a mutation, after all Rex's blonde hair is natural too.

But it was the face shape that was slightly off as well. The man in front of Echo looked like a clone, but at the same time he did not. Not like a reg at least.

The brother knelt down in front of him, asking multiple questions. But Echo wasn’t listening, too focused on the door behind the clone. Eyes fixated on another figure that had just emerged in the distance, helmet in hand. The man was grinning almost like he was enjoying this all way too much.

This man had brought shoulders and appeared almost an entire head taller than the other clone. But again, as he came closer Echo could see the distinctive features of a Fett clone in his face, in his eyes. He was a brother as well.

Questions started flooding Echo’s mind. Who are they? Why was Rex with them? Why did they look so much different than him and his brothers in the 501^st?

He was shaking out of yet another train of thought when the comlink on Rex’s wrist started blinking rapidly. The Captain shifted his attention to his communication device. Echo had completely forgotten the Captains’ presence for a second to focused on the two other clones.

The Generals voice sounded over the comlink. “Rex, what’s the situation. Did you find Echo? Is he alright?” General Skywalker sounded nervous.

“Yes, Sir! Tech and I retrieved him, but he’s still pretty out of it. Tech is working on unplugging him from the system.” The Captain replied.

His attention shifted to the clone hunched down on the other side of Echo. “Tech, report. How are we looking?” The clone which Echo presumed was Tech shifted his attention from the datapad in his hands to Rex.

“I’ll take a while before when can unplug him from the machinery, but I should be able to do it. But I need more time. Otherwise, he might sustain severe damage to his cerebral cortex or worse.” He answered. Echo didn’t like the sound of that, even though he wasn’t sure what the other clone was exactly talking about.

“Alright. We’ll try buying you as much time as we can. Send Wrecker out here, we could use some back up!” General Skywalker demanded.

Rex nodded towards the second clone, who disappeared through the heavy door which was accompanied by a hiss and the uncomfortable sound of metal scraping across metal.

Echo could hear blaster fire outside of the room as Wrecker returned fire, door closing behind him.

Tech was now standing next to Echo examining the machinery that presented itself in front of him. Rex was still right where he had been since Echo had woken up, keeping him company.

The situation seemed to have gone south because he could see multiple figures streaming into the room before sealing the blast door shut. There were seven people, including him, occupying the room now.

Echo had mostly regained his eyesight. He glanced around the room desperately searching for one specific trooper. His gaze shifted from Rex to Wrecker and the General, then to Tech who had started desperately pressing the buttons on the control panel next to Echo.

He kept searching, clinging on to the hope he would find who he was looking for.

Pain struck his face as he eyed the other two troopers that were working on the door. Their armor was painted in a mixture of black, white and red, similar to the two clones which he had just got introduced to.

The two suddenly turned their heads as they sprinted in Echo’s direction. Closing a second blast door, in an attempt to seal it shut. As they turned he could see their armor design a little better.

A pit started to form in his chest right where his heart should be, as he examined the two welders. He was hit with realization, tears forming in his eyes.

By the looks of it, it was very unlikely that Fives was one of them. Fives had always been proud of the Rishi eel painted on his helmet in remembrance of Cutup and the rest of Domino Squad that had died years ago in the effort of protecting the Rish Outpost from Separatist intruders. After all they were the only members of Domino Squad who escaped that awful place with their lives.

Even though Echo wasn’t able to make out their faces—behind the tinted helmet visors—quite yet, there was no way Fives would be one of them. When him and Echo had become ARCs and were given the prototype phase II armor, repainting the eel on his new helmet had been Fives priority.

Another thing Echo had noticed was the striking difference in height among the four clones. One was tall with broad shoulders—that was Wrecker, if Echo recalled correctly—the second was a bit shorter but with a slim frame. The third clone—Tech—looked just slightly taller than Rex yet with a leaner frame. And the last. He was the shortest, with a more athletic build.

Now Echo was sure these couldn't be regs.

So, even if he had gotten some new armor, since Echo had been captured by the Separatist, Fives probably wouldn’t have changed the design. Echo knows him well enough to be certain of it. Fives cared about the Rishi eel and what it stood for, it meant too much to him to give up the design.

By the looks of it there was no trace of the eel anywhere on the armor of the two troopers that resided in front of the blast door, on the other side of the room.

The next sentence spoken unfortunately proved his hypothesis correct. “Hunter! Crosshair! What’s the situation?” Tech asked, not even turning towards the two men, still focused on the control panel.

Echo didn’t catch the rest of their conversation. He was deep in thought.

Since their rescue team arrived, Rex had caught Echo up on the basics. Rex, the General and Clone Force 99 had been dispatched; more like they dispatched themselves, on a mission in hopes of finding Echo.

If Fives had been with them, he would have sprinted right for Echo the second he laid eyes on his brother. He would have embraced Echo in a hug. Fives would probably not release Echo that easily. He imagined that Rex would probably have to step in the rescue Echo from the warm and heartfelt embrace of his twin.

But that wasn’t the case, Rex had come alone, accompanied by the General and an unfamiliar squad, which could only mean one thing: That Fives was – Echo couldn’t finish the sentence in his head. It pained him to think about it.

No!

It couldn’t be, he couldn’t be – Echo can’t be the last member of Domino Squad, it doesn’t feel right. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he started hyperventilating.

Of course, the Captain couldn’t see what was going on inside Echo’s head that caused him to hyperventilate. But he shifted his gaze from the door back to his brother. He placed his hand back on Echo’s shoulder staring into his eyes. He was clearly trying to find out what had caused Echo’s sudden outburst.

“Vod’ika, what’s going on? Are you alright," the Captain asked with a frantic look on his face. “What is it?"

Echo coughed hard. “I've got a big headache." He huffed a laugh.

“Better to feel something than nothings at all, old buddy." Rex said, with a smile on his face, that sadly didn't reach his eyes.

Echo tried to smile too, but he broke into a coughing fit instead.

“Touching reunion, guys, but we need to get out of here,” General Skywalker started. “Tech, you have to detach him. Now!”

Tech finally stepped away from the control panel leaning over Echo.

Echo was definitely not alright, but he couldn’t just tell the Captain the truth. Rex had to focus on the task at hand, he couldn’t be distracted by this.

So, Echo rasped a shaky “Yeah...” in hopes of easing his friend’s mind. It seemed to have worked because Rex nodded once and glanced at the General, awaiting orders.

Echo’s breathing had slowed down again, and he wiped the tears away with his organic hand. This was neither the time nor place for a mental breakdown.

At the same moment he felt some relief and weight lifted off his shoulders as Tech detaches him from the machinery that had kept him enslaved for so long.

Echo made a mental note to asked Rex about Fives when things have somewhat calmed down.

Maybe Echo is panicking for no reason, and Fives is waiting back on the Resolute, for his return. Which was long overdue.

The memory faded out as Hunter poked him in the side. “You alright Echo? Thought you were dead for a second. I was about to call Wrecker to check on you.” He said with a grin on his face, but his tone was serious.

“Yeah, I’m alright Hunter. Just thinking about –“ Echo started when Hunter interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

“What is it you’re thinking about? Your past?” Hunter looked concerned even though Echo had just told him he was alright.

He guessed he wasn’t as great as a liar as he used to be, Fives probably rubbed off on him.

That man couldn’t lie his way out of a paper bag. He was the worst liar Echo had ever encountered. The thought about Fives trying to lie his way out of yet another situation he’s gotten himself into, after Echo had disappeared, made him chuckle. He presumes it probably didn’t go too well without Echo backing him up.

When he didn’t immediately get a response out of Echo, Hunter shifted his attention back to the controls as he steered the Marauder through space.

“You should get some rest, you know. You look exhausted. While you’re at it, could you check up on Tech just to make sure he’s alright?” Hunter pleaded. Echo snapped his head towards him. First he was hesitant but continued to nod once.

“Don’t worry you’re not gonna miss anything. I promise. We’ll be jumping into hyperspace soon,” Hunter assured Echo. “It will take some time before we arrive back on Ord Mantell. Cid’s not gonna be pleased with us, that’s for sure. Get some rest, it looks like you need it.”

Echo rolled his eyes, and Hunter just huffed. Echo got up anyways and headed for the door.

He stopped at the entrance of the cockpit turning around to face the other clone.

“Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah.” Hunter responded as he turned his head slightly to look at Echo whilst still keeping a watch on the controls in front of him.

There was a long pause. Echo wasn’t sure how to phrase his next words.

Hunter waited patiently until Echo found the courage within himself to speak. “You asked me if I was alright. I said I was, but I lied.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Hunter chuckled before becoming serious again.

“I just don’t know. I guess I’m overwhelmed all of the time, I don’t know what to do about it either. I keep having nightmares about my time on Skako Minor. About you know who?”

Hunter nodded in response.

“I was back there. The day you came to save me from the Techno Union and…well I kept thinking about Domino. About Hevy, ‘Bait and Cutup and how they didn’t even get a chance to prove themselves,” he paused. “And it got me thinking about why I was the one who survived, and not them. They deserved it as much as any other brother. I wish I could have done something. I should have been there for Fives too, by his side. Supporting him, ya know?”

Hunters furrowed his brow. He was probably thinking how best to respond.

There was a long pause as Echo waited in anticipation.

“Echo. Hey listen, alright. This is not your fault. None of it is. You have to stop blaming yourself for their fate. You were all just shinnies, not prepared for such an attack. The Commando Droids where to well-equipped and your batch was unprepared.” He spoke with determination resting on his face.

“And Fives made his choice. I never got to meet him but from what you and the Captain have told me, he was a great soldier who fought for what he believed to be right. He put the well-being of his brothers in front of his own, even disobeying orders to secure his brother’s survival. After the Campaign on Umbara, word spread fast on Kamino about the fearless soldier who dared to counter an ex-Jedi. The decision to investigate the origin of the chips was his own. And even if you had been there, you know very well that he would have gone through with it either way. Am I correct so far?”

Echo lowered his gaze staring at the scomp link where his right hand should be. “You’re probably right, if he had set his mind to something there was nothing that could stop him. Not even protocol and the following consequences of his disobedience or insurrection,” Echo smirked. “Thanks, Hunter. I really needed this.” He said trying to convey as much appreciation in his voice as he could.

“No problem, Echo. If there’s ever anything you need to get of your mind. You can always come to me!” He reassured.

“I will.” Echo replied with gratitude for Hunters acceptance of the situation.

“Now be on your way. I don’t wanna keep you up any longer than I have to. Please, don’t forget to check up on Tech. I would but I’m currently occupied.” Hunter hurried.

Echo didn’t feel like arguing so he obeyed Hunter’s request and headed for the small medbay that resided at the back of the ship.

Omega was sitting on one of the chairs holding something golden up to her face. She seemed to be enjoying whatever it was she was looking at. Echo couldn’t quite make out what it was.

He paused in the doorway looking at her. Omega sighed, turning her body slightly away from Echo, starring at the ground. He could see that she felt guilty, he had a good guess to why, even though he didn’t blame her for any of it. Her voice was small and underlined with a disappointed tone when she spoke. ”I’m sorry we lost the war chest.”

Echo took a deep breath. Omega was young, she blamed herself for losing it. Even though it hadn’t been her fault. If anyone was to blame it was the Empire, Echo was sure of it.

He headed towards an empty chair across from her and sat down.

He had to try to ease her mind. “We’ll manage without it.” Echo stated, trying to sound as gentle and forgiving as he could. She should know that they’re always gonna be there for her when she needs them to be.

“I wanted to make things better for us. I know you all gave up everything because of me.” She said her legs were now up on the chair and she has curled in on herself.

“Good thing we did, or we might be fighting for the Empire right now. Or worse,” Echo said with determination. “We made the right choice, Omega. I’d do it all again.”

Omega turned her chair around with a look of surprise on her face. It was clear to him that she had not expected that answer, but everything he had said, he truly meant it. He would do it all again for her, and he was sure the rest of the Bad Batch would do as well. A smile formed across her face. Upon seeing it, his own lips twitched upwards.

He suddenly heard shouting from the cockpit. “Hey, we got a situation!”

Echo got up, as Omega hurried past him. “I’ll get Tech. Meet you up front!” She shouted excitingly. As she headed towards the small medbay, where Tech resided at the moment.

Echo headed straight for the cockpit; worried what kind of bad news awaited him. Wrecker was already in the cockpit, leaning against one of the back walls, his gaze focused on Hunter who was setting the Marauder on autopilot, as Echo entered. Echo was not surprised that Wrecker was already there, he was admiring the new weapon he had acquired upon their last mission, just outside of the cockpit, as Echo had walked past him before talking to Omega.

Hunter gestured for Echo to sit down next to him, on the very chair that Hunter had urged him to leave, just a couple minutes prior.

Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good. Or so he thought.

Omega came rushing in. Tech was several meters behind her headed for the cockpit as fast as he could in his condition. He was favoring his left leg as he limped into the cockpit, his face twisted in pain. It looked like he had been in the middle of taking of off his armor as Omega had hurried him to join them in the cockpit. He had stripped off the armor on his left leg to attach the bacta patch that resided on his left thigh. Tech had sustained an injury just mear hours ago, back on Serenno.

When everyone had finally settled, Echo focused his gaze back to Hunter, who was gesturing towards the consol in between them. A blue light kept flashing, indicating that they’ve received a long-range transmission.

Which seemed odd because they used an encrypted channel. There was only person they had given the encrypted frequency to, a little while ago. But it was for emergency use only.

He felt uneasy while staring at the flashing light, this can only be bad news. Something could have happened to him. He could be hurt. Or even worse.

Echo didn’t wanna think about it.

“Rex?” Omega asked, eyes going wide in anticipation.

“I presume so. No one else knows the frequency.” Tech agreed.

“Then what are we waiting for?!” Omega exclaimed, launching herself forward pressing the button underneath the blinking light.

“No, wait –“ Hunter was trying to say, but it was too late, the blue hologram of a hooded figure appeared on the consol.

There was no going back now.

Chapter Text

Echo swallowed the lump in his throat. They were all silently staring at the blue hologram. No one dared to speak.

Moments passed but the figure didn’t speak. Something had to be wrong.

That’s when the projector picked up as second figure that seemed to be desperately working on something. Moments later the other hooded figure disappeared again followed by a shrieking sound that took everyone by surprise. He heard Omega wheezing out in pain behind him, as she tried to cover her ears.

The AJˆ6 cyborg construct, over Echo’s ears, picked up the high pitch sound and enhanced it. So, he cried out in pain as well.

“Can you read me?” The hooded figure finally asked, as Echo was fidgeting with the buttons on the side of his head trying desperately to readjust it. For some reason the sound still echoed through his brain for a couple more seconds.

The sound finally died out as Echo shifted his attention back towards the hologram of the hooded figure.

Since the rest of them were still frozen or covering their ears, Echo responded. “Rex? What’s going on?”

The figure finally took of his hood and snapped his head towards where the other had disappeared off to. A second voice could be heard over the speaker. “I’ll keep a look out. I’ll comm you if I encounter any trouble.“

The Captain nodded once as he turned his gaze back towards the holoprojector.

“When who arrives? Captain what’s going on?” Hunter chimed in. He was sounding almost frantic. Worry lines on his face.

“It’s the Empire. They found us,” Rex explained. “I don’t have much time. But. We need your help.”

“H-How? What happened?” Hunter asked, looking even more worried than before.

“Gregor got caught, when gathering some supplies. We’ve been on the run for the last couple of rotations. They destroyed our ship,” he paused before continuing his story. “The Empire has occupied Lothal and is monitoring all shipyards. We’re currently hiding out a couple clicks from the capital city. Wouldn’t be the first system the Empire has occupied,” Rex said in a frightened but disappointed tone. Sadness was showing on his face as he expressed the last sentence.

Rex paused.

“I wouldn’t ask this off you if it wasn’t our last resort but…w-we need an extraction!”

There was a pause.

Then, “Don’t worry Rex. We’ll come and rescue you.” Omega replied with determination.

“We’re currently near the Serenno system, so it would take approximately three days of hyperspace travel till we reach Lothal. Can you hold out till then?” Echo replied. This wasn’t good at all. Three rotations were enough time for the Empire to discover them. But there was nothing else the Batch could do, as of now.

“I think we should be fine, Echo. Contact us when you entered Lothal’s airspace, so we can give you our exact position,” he took a deep breath. “Be careful. I overheard one of the troopers taking about a possible planet wide blockade. I don’t want you to be risking your lives for us.” He sounded sad.

Echo knew the Captain well. Rex had lost so many of his brothers over the years. Echo’s impressed that Rex was able to keep himself together for so long. It is possible to assume that if something was too happened to any of them during their rescue mission, the Captain would probably never forgive himself for asking them the favor.

“Thanks for the information Captain. We’ll be on our way.” Hunter assured.

A smile crept across Rex’s face, but it sadly didn’t quite reach his eyes. That’s when he could see the Captain turning his gaze away from Hunter as he snapped towards where Tech had resided on the chair behind Echo.

“Tech,” Rex sounded worried. “Are you alright?”

“My left femur has been fractured by approximately 150 kilograms of pressure…so…no. But I appreciate you asking.”

Echo could hear the pain underlining his tone. He presumes that Tech hadn’t taken any pain killers yet. For some unknown reason to Echo, Tech was not a fan of them, even though it would put him out of his misery

The supply chest had come crashing down on Tech, as the container finally came to a hold. He remembers seeing it drop, out of the corner of his eyes but he hadn’t been fast enough to warn him. Serenno had been one disaster after another, that was for sure.

“That doesn’t sound good. Don’t put any pressure on it. One of my men had a similar injury a long time ago,” Rex paused. “When he didn’t recover fast enough one of our medics made the irrational decision the amputate the leg.“

Echo still had his back turned towards the projector as he examined Tech. His brother looked worried. He could see the wheels spinning inside his head, calculating the possibility of amputation being necessary.

“Technically speaking, by removing the leg the human body was able to—” Tech started to explain, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Shouting could be heard over the speakers. Getting louder and louder. “Rex! Rex,” Gregor came into view, looking exhausted from running. “They’ve found us. We got to go. Now!”

Gregor braced his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “Three on speeders and a ground squad not far behind.”

His head snapped to the direction he originated from. After a second or two he turned towards the holoprojector, lips twitching upwards. “Hey everyone, thanks again for saving me the first time around. Let’s not make this a habit though.” Gregor announced.

“You heard him,” the Captain started. “Thanks again. I don’t know what I’d do without you five.”

Echo felt a lump forming his throat. It should be six of them, not just five. Crosshair should be here, with them, not under the spell of the Empire.

He wondered in thought.

After Crosshair had left, it had gotten quiet. He never thought he would actually miss his grumpy demeanor. He was always ready to bicker with the squad. Echo guessed, it was part of his personality. It was what made Crosshair…well…Crosshair.

“Take care.” Rex expressed as Echo snapped back to reality.

“You too.” Echo responded.

Rex nodded once, looking at each of them one after the other as his hologram dissolved.

“Well…what are you waiting for? Take us there. He needs our help.” Omega ordered. She was standing next to Hunter who shifted his attention back to the controls in front of him. He took the Marauder out of autopilot and started punching in the coordinates for Lothal.

“Everyone strap in, we’re going into hyperspace.” He demanded.

Lately the Marauder had been a little shaky every time she entered or excited hyperspace. Echo and Tech have been wanting to fix the hyperdrive for a quite a while, but they couldn’t seem to find the time to work on the outside of the ship. Most times when they touch down somewhere they only had a small window before they eventually had to flee or make their escape. That’s the harsh reality of being fugitives.

The Marauder only got four seats in the cockpit. It used to only house four of them, and they hadn’t cared enough to add to it. But in this moment, he wished they had.

Hunter and Tech buckled up, so did Wrecker who sat down on the empty seat behind Hunter.

“Wrecker get up. Let the kid sit down.” Tech demanded.

Wrecker groaned, reaching for his seat belt. “Urgh, fine I’ll—”

But Echo interrupted him. “It’s fine Wrecker. I’ll find a different seat.” Echo got up and gestured for Omega to sit down instead.

“Are you sure?” She questioned. She looked worried.

“I’ll be in the back, don’t worry about me,” Echo responded, putting his organic hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

She glanced up at him, before sitting down in the co-pilot' seat and fastening her seat belt.

Echo walked past Wrecker and Tech as he left the cockpit. The automatic door closed behind him.

He suddenly came to a hold.

Something caught his eye in the distance. A datapad was sticking out of Crosshairs bag. He had left it on the ship when he had joined with the enemy. Echo wondered how he had never noticed it before. Maybe the Marauders bumpy exit out of hyperspace a couple days ago, shifted some of Crosshair’s gear pushing it towards the opening of the bag. Crosshair barely used it. The screen was dusty.

He continued the train of thought he had begun in the cockpit, before he had focused back on the conversation.

He truly missed his brother. Crosshair had always been there for him, if Echo needed something. He’d saved his life more times than Echo could count. He was a good friend. And the best sharpshooter the galaxy had ever seen.

He recalls the memory of Crosshair disarming one of the Separatist's Armored Assault Tanks from almost half a click away, as he started heading for the bag on the other side of the room. He was so in thought that he didn’t even realize that he was moving, focused on the memory. Crosshair had hit the barrel and the whole thing blew up from the inside out.

Echo remembered standing next to him, eyes wide. He was rendered speechless.

He was an enhanced clone after all who specialized in sharp shooting, but the shot was still highly impressive. He admired Crosshair in that moment. Echo’s lips twitch upwards forming a smile on his face, as the memory started to fade out again.

Echo froze.

How long had he been in thought? That’s when he remembered. He had excited the cockpit right when Hunter was getting ready to jump the ship to…hyperspace.

The engine started to hum even louder. It almost sounded raspy. Which wasn’t a good sign, Tech and him should really fix the karking hyperdrive.

“Is everyone strapped in?” Hunter asked, turning around looking them over. Wrecker and Omega nodded, and Tech responded “Affirmative!” before nodding as well.

“Alright. Here we go.” Hunter took a deep breath before reaching for the throttle.

He paused.

Something felt off. His senses were screaming at him. Something was wrong.

Hunter unbuckled.

“What is it?” Omega asked confused.

“Not sure,” Hunter responded, before getting out his comm. “Echo, do you read me?”

Nothing.

“Echo, report in!”

The comm crackled with static.

Hunter headed for the bulkhead door that separated the back of the ship from the cockpit. The door hissed open with an awful shriek.

Echo stood at the end of the crew deck, next to the ladder that lead up to the gunner’s nest. He was like frozen, eyes fixed on Crosshairs old bag.

“What’s the matter,” Hunter asked. “Thought you were gonna strap in? I almost jumped us to hyperspace.”

No response.

“Echo, talk to me.”

Hunter stepped closer.

He didn’t see her at first, but he knew Omega was trailing behind him. Wrecker and Tech remained in the cockpit, for now.

Then, Echo finally spoke. “Sorry, I think I’ve gotten distracted. It’s just…” He trailed off before kneeling next to Crosshair’s gear and reached out his organic hand.

It looked like their brother’s old datapad; the one he never used.

Echo turned it over in his organic hand, scanning it thoroughly. “It’s Crosshair’s,” Echo began. “It still got some juice left, which is odd. It should be dead by now. Better to check it out.”

He turned it on, and the screen flickered to life.

“I don’t wanna ruin whatever moment the three of you are currently sharing. But we should definitely get going,” Tech’s voice came from the cockpit. “Why don’t we jump first and get back to it later. It’ll still be there.”

Tech was the voice of reason; he was right. Whatever it is, it could wait. “He’s right, Echo. Get strapped in and once we’re in hyperspace, we’ll have enough time to go through it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Echo said before getting up and heading for the seats that lined the walls. They barely used those chairs, so at least they were finally getting some use out of them.

The Marauder was originally constructed to transfer squadrons during the war, so these were the only available seats for the troopers. The rest of the seats had probably been occupied by the ship’s crew members.

“Strap in. Probably won’t be a smooth jump.”

“Copy that.” Echo responded, as he sat down and strapped in.

Hunter gave him a nod before gesturing for Omega to join him. They headed for the cockpit. Once he got seated and strapped in he punched in the coordinates for Lothal.

“Omega, are we good to go?” He asked.

“Yes, let’s go and save them.”

He was about to initiate the jump, when a red light on the center console started flashing. “Ah, great. Fuels almost empty. We gotta make a pitstop.” He announced.

“But Rex and Gregor need us.” Omega complained.

“I know, kid. But we’re no good to them if we run out of fuel before we even get anywhere near the system,” Hunter explained. He turned towards Tech. “Find us the closest fueling station, preferably not on the surface.”

“On it.” Tech responded, before reaching for his datapad. The bulkhead door hissed open. He heard footsteps behind him.

“What’s going on? Everything alright?” Echo was standing in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the metal frame.

“We ran into a slight issue. We gotta refuel before we head to Lothal. Tech’s scanning –“

“Found one, but you’re not gonna like it.” Tech said, he looked concerned.

“Try me.”

“There’s one not far out, but it’s shady–“ Tech started.

“Shady how?” Echo pushed.

“If my intel is correct…it’s run by the Pykes.” Tech explained.

They all stared at him in disbelief.

“The Pykes? Are you sure? What would they be doing with a fueling station this far out?” Hunter questioned. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“Well, technically speaking it be the perfect location. The D’astran sector is known for its shady activity. It also not far from some of the major hyperspace lanes. They would thereby seize control over major parts of this sector, expanding their criminal empire,” Tech began. “When you think about it, stationing it here would strengthen their presence in the Outer Rim, while also providing resources for their smuggling business.”

Tech paused. Then, “I am certain, that the station might just be a front. They probably use it to store spice or for illegal trading. Or both. Quite clever if you think –“

“Thanks, Tech,” Hunter cut him off. “But we can’t head there, not after what happened on Ord Mantell.”

He glanced at Omega.

Members of the Pyke Syndicate took her hostage, when the Batch had sabotaged one of the Pyke’s spice trades.

It was too dangerous for them to head there. After all it had only been a couple months since it had happened. What if they recognized them. He wasn’t gonna risk it. They couldn’t risk anything happening to Omega again, not on his watch.

“Tech. Scan for different fueling stations in this area.” Hunter demanded.

“Copy that.”

Tech was buried deep in his datapad, fingers flying across the screen with precision.

He finally spoke after what felt like forever. “The next closest is 7 parsecs out, It would take approximately 10 hours to reach. If the Marauder can manage.” Tech responded, he didn’t sound convinced.

Hunter swallowed hard.

“Do we really wanna risk it? I mean head-to-head with the Pykes?” Wrecker cut in.

“According to my calculations there be about a 2.7% chance we’ll reach the next other closest station before we run out of fuel. Taking this into consideration, we would most likely be drifting in dead space until life support fails.” Tech announced.

“We won’t even make it halfway.” Echo expressed.

“I don’t think we have a choice, Wrecker.” Tech said, before finally looking up from his screen. “Hunter, it’s your call.”

Now they were all staring at him in anticipation. Either option was terrible, but at least they’d stand a chance if they head for the Pyke’s fueling station. Or at least he hoped so.

“Tech’s right, we can’t risk it. I can’t believe I’m about to say this but, we have no choice.”

“We’re so dead.” Wrecker complained.

“Just stay positive, Wrecker. Maybe this will go well.” Omega said.

She was too optimistic, after all she was still a child. Technically she was older than him, Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair, but because of their accelerated aging, they’re minds, and body were of an adult. Echo on the other hand was the oldest of the Batch, seen too much and experienced too much loss in his short life.

Hunter couldn’t even start to imagine how Echo was feeling. He hid it well underneath a mask that rarely slipped. All four of them were well seasoned soldiers after all, they weren’t the same men than before their first ever deployment.

Therefore, Hunter knew better than clinging on to false hope. This was not gonna go well for them. He could already sense it. The alternative was worse, at least they could still talk or fight their way out of a conflict with the Pykes. But if they run out of fuel, it’s game over.

He took a deep breath, before nodding once. He turned towards the nav computer.

Hunter sighed. “Fine. Tech, send me the coordinates for the Pykes’ station.”

“Already on it.” Tech responded, transferring the data.

Hunter gave him an appreciative nod, before punching the coordinates into the nav computer.

“Here we go. Let’s hope we don’t regret this later.” Hunter said more to himself than anyone else.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Echo nodded once before heading through the bulkhead door again.

The door hissed close. After a moment or two, Hunter’s comm crackled.

“Alright, I’m strapped in. Whenever you’re ready.” Echo’s voice came over comms.

“Copy that.” Hunter responded.

Hunter reached for the controls. The Marauder heavily protested against the command but, it eventually obliged. The stars stretched outside the forward viewport.

There was no turning back now.

It took about an hour before the Marauder dropped out of hyperspace again. The exit wasn’t any smoother than their entry had been, that was for sure. Tech and him really needed to fix the karking hyperdrive, soon.

He had stayed in the back staring at Crosshair’s datapad. It was locked; of course it was. It wouldn’t have been a problem for him to unlock it, especially not with Tech’s help, but they had more important things to worry about. This could wait.

He finally headed for the cockpit, the rest of them were still seated from the exit. The fueling station was bigger than he had imagined, this must be more than just a fueling station. He was sure of it. After all the Pykes ran it. It was probably a key factor for their spice smuggling business.

And now they were headed straight for it. He knew this was a bad idea, they all did. But when you don’t have a better alternative, you get desperate.

“We’re still sure we wanna go through with this?” Echo asked.

“Well, no. But according to my calculations, we’re running on fumes, so I presume we don’t have a another choice.” Tech responded calmly. Too calm for Echo’s liking.

They were all silently staring at the giant structure in front of them. Hunter steered the Marauder into one of the hangers.

Echo took a deep breath.

“Remember this is just like a stealth mission. No guns a blazing. We’re not here to cause trouble. We refuel. We pay. And then were out of here within the hour, understood?” Hunter clarified. His gaze fixed on Wrecker.

“Why you looking at me?” Wrecker defended.

“Why do you think?” Tech pushed.

“That’s unfair. I know how to –“

“Alright that’s enough of that. We gotta get moving.” Echo interrupted. He didn’t feel like having another debate.

“Echo’s right.” Omega cut in.

Hunter nodded.

“Okay, here’s the plan. Wrecker. Omega stay with the ship. Echo, Tech you’re with me.” Hunter announced.

Tech cleared his throat, signaling down to his bandaged leg.

“We’ll be fine. Maybe you can start working on the karking hyperdrive. We can handle this.” Echo said determined.

Hunter gave him a look but eventually nodded.

“Be careful.” Omega warned.

“We always are kid.” Echo responded. He gave her a smile before lowering the ramp.

The station was in worse shape than they’d anticipated. The hangar looked like it hadn’t seen proper maintenance in year, maybe ever.

Crates were scattered haphazardly across the floor, some cracked open, others leaking unknown contents. The walls were lined with corroded metal panels, the edges curling where rust had eaten through. A faint trail of orange powder streaked across the duracrete, unmistakable. Spice.

“Lovely place.” Echo muttered, voice low beneath his helmet.

“We won’t be staying long.” Hunter said, leaning in close.

Echo rolled his eyes underneath his helmet. He hated everything about this.

An RA-7 protocol droid entered the hangar. “Welcome dear travelers. How can we be of help?”

The droid sounded too nice. Something fishy was going on, Echo wasn’t fooled by any of this.

He eventually let it go, because they had one objective. Maybe he was wrong, but he doubted it.

“We need to refuel our ship.” Hunter said cold, gesturing to the Havoc Marauder behind them.

“Alright. Follow me.” The RA-7 protocol droid said as it headed for a fuel pump.

Echo could see two Pykes standing off to the side watching him closely. They were talking to each other in hushed tones.

“You feel it?” He asked Hunter.

“Yeah. Since before we landed. Somethings wrong with this place. The fact that this station is run by the Pykes isn’t what worries me. I just can’t explain it.” Hunter described.

“Yeah…” Echo said, before trailing off. He knew exactly what Hunter had meant by that. He was feeling it too.

“Contact me once you’re done refueling your vessel.” The droid said before heading out the door it had entered through earlier.

“Let’s make this quick.” Hunter announced.

Echo nodded in response.

“Don’t you gotta go outside to work on the hyperdrive?” Wrecker asked mockingly.

Tech sighed.

“Yes, but I first gotta figure out what’s wrong. That’s why I am headed for the central control panel, located in the cockpit.” Tech defended, gesturing at the bulkhead door that lead into the cockpit.

Tech limped towards the main control panel. He was still favoring his left leg; it still hurt.

“Tech?”

“Yeah?” He asked, turning around.

Omega was standing behind him, with a troubled look on her face.

“This is not gonna go well, is it?” She questioned.

He could lie to her, but she would know. There be no use.

“No. This is why I wanna get started on fixing the Havoc Marauder. I also activated one of my quick-jump protocols, that I’ve been working on. Just in case we have to make a quick exit,” he paused. “There’s about a 9% chance that well go undiscovered and it’s getting slimmer by the second.” He added.

Omega nodded once. She looked scared now.

“Hey, Omega. It’ll be fine. We always figure something out.” Tech tried to reassure her.

“That’s not it.” She said, looking at the ground.

“Rex and Gregor are in trouble. They need our help and we’re—”

“We’re doing the best we can. Trust me I don’t like this any more than you do, but we have no other choice.” Tech finished her sentence, before continuing for the cockpit.

Wrecker followed behind him, while Omega sat down on one of the nav chairs.

 “Will you grab me the toolkit from the shelf to your left?” He asked Wrecker when they entered the cockpit.

The main hatch to the hanger still stood open. Chills ran down his spine, but he tried to ignore it. He could hear Echo and Hunter talking outside, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. All he knew was that they had started fueling up.

Tech stopped in front of the central control panel, when a flash of pain creeped up his left thigh. His fractured femur was giving him a heck of a time, that was for sure. So, he bit through the pain. He had a job to do.

Wrecker set down the toolkit beside him as Tech started working on loosening the screws from the protective cover over the panel.

He lifted it off and handed it to Wrecker. Who started complaining again. “This is boring, I hate waiting around. Why do I always get benched,” he sighed. “Now I am stuck here with you—”

He interrupted himself. Wrecker had probably realized that he was being kind of rude towards Tech, so he buried is face in his hands.

“Oh, sorry Tech,” he paused. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just—” Wrecker began.

“It’s alright, no harm done.” Tech's lips twitching upwards as he turned towards his brother.

Wrecker lifted his head again, guilt started to dissolve from his face. Tech turned around and concentrated on the task, which presented itself in front of him.

He was fidgeting with the main control panel, which was connected to the entire ship, desperately trying to figure out what the problem was.

He shifted his weight onto his right leg to take pressure of his left, but it wasn’t quite enough.

Tech hesitated. He hated asking. “Wrecker,” he muttered. “A bit of support, if you don’t mind. My left femur is still compromised.”

Wrecker snorted and moved to help, clearly enjoying himself more than necessary.

Tech sighed as Wrecker braced him, holding him steady so he could continue working. Humiliating, yes. But better than collapsing. At least no one else was around.

Tech got to work right ahead. There was a slight hum, and sparks originated from the light fixtures above them. He grid his teeth, hoping he wasn’t making it any worse.

Tech retrieved his datapad and connected it to the panel’s interface port, eyes flicking rapidly as streams of data scrolled across the screen.

Everything appeared to be functioning at optimal capacity. No errors, no flags. On the surface, the systems were performing with expected parameters.

But something was off. He could feel it.

Unwilling to settle for a superficial reading, he dug deeper manually tracing the power distribution pathways. After a few minutes of cross-referencing flow charts and readouts, a theory began to form.

Possibly a rerouting issue. Perhaps a minor fault in the internal circuitry.

Without hesitation, Tech disengaged the secondary access panel and reached for the inner housing.

He could hear hushed voices outside. He turned around and saw two Pykes at the other end of the hanger. They were looking straight at him. He forced a smile, before turning back around.

Tech grabbed for his comm.

“Havoc 1, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear. What’s the matter?” Hunter responded. He sounded worried. Good.

“You see those two Pykes, I think we might be in trouble. Make it quick. I’m not sure how long we’ll have before we’ve overstayed or welcome.” He warned.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same. But we need a full tank,” his comm cut out before picking Hunter’s voice up again. “Echo estimates it’ll take at least another twenty minutes.”

“Copy that. Be careful, you all keep a watch.” Tech suggested.

“We will.”

He could see one of the two Pykes leaving, from the corner of his eye. Time was running out, faster than they had hoped. Just like that he was left to his thoughts. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He needed his HUD to scan the panel, maybe he’ll find something that way.

“Wrecker would you hand me my helmet, please?” Tech suggested. Wrecker turned around trying to reach for the helmet that lay on the chair across the room.

“Argh, I can’t reach it,” Wrecker grumbled, then added, far too cheerfully, “Guess I gotta take you with me!”

Tech opened his mouth to protest, but Wrecker had already hoisted him up with one arm and stepped toward the chair. “Wrecker, honestly—”

He was ignored. Wrecker retrieved the helmet with his free hand and handed it to Tech, who accepted it with visible reluctance.

This wasn’t the first time Wrecker had picked him up without warning, and Tech doubted it would be the last. He knew his brother meant well, just like he knew Wrecker could have simply set him in a nearby chair and retrieved the helmet himself.

But torturing Tech like this clearly brought him joy.

Still, with the throbbing pain in his thigh, standing too long wasn’t a viable option either.

Tech muttered something unintelligible under his breath, took the helmet, and allowed himself to be sat back down in front of the panel. He turned on the HUD and the systems flared to life. The data was projected in life feed as he tried to process the information.

“I can’t fathom what is causing the issues with the hyperdrive. The HUD is registering a misalignment in the targeting overlay grid. I’ll need to realign the gyroscopic stabilizers by 0.0003 degrees. The diagnostic scan also revealed a latency spike in the command relay. To adjust it, I’ll have to calibrate the signal filters manually to reroute power.”

Wrecker sighed audibly.

“Strange. The auxiliary thruster control is receiving cross-feedback from an inertial compensator, which is improbable.” He was mostly talking to himself, when Wrecker interrupted him.

“Not again, Tech. You always talk like that when you’re fixing things,” Wrecker muttered. “I don’t get any of it. Bet you’re just making half of it up to sound smart.” He sounded almost proud of himself.

Tech exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

His HUD continued cycling through diagnostic readouts as he methodically scanned the panel for anomalies.

A flicker in the back caught his eye. A thin strip of durasteel plating, partially dislodged and hanging behind a cluster of conduit wirers near the rear junction. It must have come lose during their last attempted jump to hyperspace.

Unlikely to be the root cause of the hyperdrive malfunction, but still an unsecured component could lead to further complications. And Tech detested complications.

He extended his right arm into the compartment. “Hand me the plasma torch,” he called, nodding towards the open toolkit without looking. His tone was clipped, impatient.

As Wrecker hunched down to grab the tool, his grip on Tech’s arm loosened, and the weight on Tech’s injured leg spiked. He instinctively lifted it off the ground, nearly stumbling.

Wrecker quickly tightened his hold again, but a bit too much this time.

“Ouch…Wrecker, you’ve got to be more careful! You nearly dislocated my humerus.” Tech snapped, his voice strained.

Wrecker’s face fell. He looked away, eyes downcast. “I-I’m sorry, Tech. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright,” Tech said quickly, cutting him off. Technically, it wasn’t. But Wrecker had only tried to help. He forced a smile as Wrecker handed over the plasma torch.

“Thank you.” He added softly. Then he turned back to the panel and got to work.

After a little finetuning and rea-attaching it with the torch, Wrecker had handed to him, the piece was fixated again.

Tech continued working on the exposed panel, methodically calling out tool names as needed. Wrecker crouched, more cautious this time, his movements slower, his eyes fixed on Tech while rummaged through the toolkit.

A few minutes passed. The panel was back in working order, at least on the surface.

Behind him Wrecker spoke, his voice unusually quiet. “You’re still mad at me…aren’t you?”

Tech glanced up, surprised. Wrecker wasn’t good at hiding guilt, and it still clung to him like carbon scoring. He hesitated before responding.

“I do not hold you responsible,” Tech said calmly. “You were only attempting to assist. I…may have been overly reactive. That was uncalled for.”

Wrecker’s lips tugged into a small, relieved smile. Tech gave a brief nod and turned back toward the control panel.

That issue had been resolved, but the hyperdrive remained unpredictable. He refocused on the datapad combing through readouts again, filtering variables, cross-referencing patterns.

Still nothing.

Unless…

He furrowed his brow. A manual override? It wasn’t impossible.

The inconsistencies began after one of their recent missions, since before Serenno. Sabotage was a viable explanation. Perhaps even imperial?

Tech’s eyes narrowed behind his goggles as he dug deeper into the diagnostics.

After several minutes of fruitless searching, Tech realized that further progress would be unlikely from where he stood. He needed to sit, collect his thoughts, and reassess the situation.

“There’s nothing more I can do from here.” He exhaled, looking up at Wrecker. “Thank you.”

Wrecker let go of him, stepping back.

The instant the support was gone, the pressure on Tech’s left femur spiked. He grimaced, limping toward the nearest chair. Once seated, he allowed himself a brief moment of rest, just long enough to steady his thoughts.

The tank was finally at maximum capacity, so Echo gave Hunter a nod. Both headed to detach the fuel line from the Havoc Marauder.

“Well, maybe I was wrong—” Hunter started.

“Don’t jinx it.” Echo warned.

They weren’t save yet. “I’ll grab the credits, you go ahead.” Echo told Hunter, as he headed for the ramp.

Inside the ship, Tech was still fighting with the control panel, and Wrecker was supporting his weight. Echo couldn’t stop the snort that came out.

Tech turned his head, rolling his eyes behind his HUD. “Very funny indeed.”

Echo just shrugged his shoulders. He could see Omega was sitting in front of the nav controls in the Crew Deck with the toy the old man had given her. The sight made him smile.

“How are we looking?” She asked, as Echo strove past her, looking for the case of spare credits.

“Hunter and I are paying up and then we’ll be out of here in no time.” He assured her.

She gave him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It took him a second to find the case; it was only half full, but it had to do the job.

Echo headed towards the control center, where Hunter was already waiting outside the office door. “Certainly, took you long enough.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Echo huffed.

“How much?” Hunter asked. His body was tense.

“Hopefully enough.”

The two of them headed inside.

The office was larger than they’d anticipated, though it lacked any viewport to the hangar. Only a few ceiling lights provided minimal illumination, casting long shadows across the space. The door had effectively shut out any additional light. In the center of the room stood a desk, behind which sat a Pyke, carefully studying them a with calculated gaze.

The protocol droid from earlier gestured for them to step forward. “This would make seven million credits.”

The air got knocked out his lungs. “What?” Echo gasped.

“How? We only refused one tank.” He defended.

The Pyke in front of them got up from his chair.

“You two are part of Clone Force 99. Did you really think we wouldn’t recognize you or your ship? You don’t exactly keep a low profile,” he started. “About the payment, you still ow us. This is only a portion of it. You clones caused us a lot of trouble.”

Echo swallowed hard, before taking off his bucket. It was already too late, no use of hiding their identity any longer. They’ve been found out; of course they have.

Hunter did the same.

He should have expected this, when do things ever go their way? After all the Pykes weren’t someone you’d want to mess with. And the Batch had, this was only the beginning, he could sense it.

“But what if we don’t have seven million?” Hunter said, voice steady.

“Then, I guess you’ll have to repay me a different way,” the Pyke said, gesturing towards the hanger were the Marauder was parked. “ Your ship will do just fine.”

“No chance.” Hunter said, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Somehow Echo knew what was coming before the Pyke even spoke the words.

“It’s not my problem if you can’t pay up. But…there’s something you could do for me,” he stepped closer. “A mission. And I think you’re the right people for it. Finish the job. Return and we are quit.” He suggested.

Whatever this mission contained it had to be something big, so that the Pyke would consider them quit. And Echo didn’t like it one bit. Judging from Hunters posture, his brother was on the same page.

“Let’s say we take this job…how can you assure us, your bosses won’t come after us, even if you consider our dept to be paid?” Hunter questioned.

There was a long pause.

Echo suddenly felt it, the change in the temperature. A chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. This conversation. It was going differently than Echo had imagined, the Pyke was being rather nice. Too nice.

That’s when it hit him, the Pyke was stalling. But why?

Hunter must have noticed it too, because his muscles tensed. He probably sensed something. Echo knew his brother well enough, to be sure of it. They had to get going before they’d find out what the Pyke Syndicate had planned.

The Pyke finally answered Hunter’s question. “I can’t assure you that. You just have to trust my word.” He said.

“And what’s this job about anyways?” Echo pushed. He wasn’t gonna be satisfied with half-answers. They needed to know what they were getting themselves into.

“A simple retrieval mission. And a target. You finish both. I consider your dept to the Pyke Syndicate to be paid,” His eyes narrowed. “Fail and you’ll suffer the consequences.”

No one breathed. Hunter exchanged a quick glance with Echo, sensing the gravity behind the words.

“If you cross us, we’ll know. And we’ll find you,” the Pyke added, his tone was cold and calculating. “For now, pay what you can.”

“And what exactly is the target?” Echo asked, crossing his arms. He didn’t like it one bit.

The Pyke grinned, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “Not so fast. You’ll receive the information once you’ve accepted this deal.”

He gave Hunter a look that’s said, ‘You sure?’.

Hunter just shrug.

“Fine, well take the deal. As long as you keep your end of the bargain.” Hunter warned.

“Then, so be it,” The Pyke gestured for the RA-7 protocol droid who in response handed Echo a data stick. Hunter handed over the case of credits.

“You’ll find everything you’ll need on there.” The Pyke explained

“The clock is ticking. You’ll have three weeks to bring them in. Fail to meet that deadline, and the debt goes up.”

The tensioned in the room thickened. They were already in deep, but this — this is going to push them to the limit.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” the Pyke continued, his voice dropping lower. Echo huffed, of course there was. “You won’t be the only ones looking for the target. So, consider this a test. Not just of your skills, but also your survival.”

Echo took a deep breath, why the kriff had they agreed to it? He shared an uneasy look with Hunter. This was no simple retrieval.

The Pyke spoke again. “You got all the information you’ll need. Don’t double cross us ever again,” he said eyes narrowing. “Now leave.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Echo stored the data stick away in his pouch, before the two of them headed back for the ship.

“I don’t like this.” Echo said.

“Neither do I. Let’s go before they change their mind.” Hunter added.

Chapter Text

What’s taking them so long, Tech thought.

Suddenly he heard a bunch of feet shovel behind him. “Finally, I thought—” He started as he turned in his chair towards the open door.

But it wasn’t them. He should have known it was more than two pairs of boots shoveling across the durasteel plated floor.

It was the Pykes, a whole squadron.

Tech swallowed hard.

“Wrecker? Omega? We might have a problem on our hands.” Tech yelled.

Wrecker pocked his head through the bulkhead door a second later. He paused.

“Omega stay in there.” Wrecker ordered, but of course she didn’t listen.

The three of them were clearly outnumbered. And Tech wasn’t sure if Hunter and Echo were compromised as well, probably. This was not good at all.

They just stood there for a couple seconds. No one moved. It felt like the universe was holding its breath. Everything stood still.

Wrecker glazed at Tech who just gave him a look that said ‘Stand down. We’re outmanned’. So, Wrecker didn’t act on it, thankfully for once his brother actually listened to reason.

The Pykes suddenly raised their weapons on them. “Step down the ramp. Slowly. Arms raised.” Their leader ordered.

He tried swallowing the lump in his throat.

Tech pushed himself of the chair, but his left leg protested, so he crashed back into the seat. Wrecker was already halfway down the ramp, shielding Omega with his brough frame.

“You! Are you deaf?” Their leader snarled, he was looking straight at Tech.

Great, this was not gonna go well. He thought about arguing, about telling them that he could barely walk. But it be useless, they wouldn’t care about that. Not in the slightest.

So, he pushed himself up again, pain seizing in his left leg as he limbed towards the opened hatch. Wrecker gave Tech a hand, to help him down the ramp. He joined besides Wrecker, making sure Omega was out of the line of sight.

“Clone Force 99, correct?” One of them asked.

He didn’t get a response.

Then, his leader pushed for answers. “Heard you died on Kamino. Guess the reports are incorrect. Handing you over to the Empire would bring in a lot of good money, so give us a reason why we shouldn’t.”

Tech saw through the front. Pykes didn’t bargain, he had another objective. There was no way he actually give them a chance out of this. He was stalling, but Tech was uncertain to why.

“Answer, clone!” Came the voice again.

“The name’s Wrecker! And that’s none of your karking business.” Wrecker replied, so Tech elbowed him in the side.

“Hey?” Wrecker lashed out at Tech.

“You sure you wanna make them angry?” Tech pushed.

“Urgh, fine.” He snorted.

A pause.

Then, “What you want from us? We’ve paid our dept to you. Months ago.” Tech explained.

“Not in our book. We’re here to collect the payment for the trouble you cost us.” Their leader spoke.

Tech’s gaze shifted to the left, just fast enough to catch two shadows disappearing behind two cargo crates. No doubt it was Hunter and Echo. That was a relief, he was afraid they’d been compromised as well.

“We got nothing to offer you! We paid our dept. Like I already said.” Tech pushed.

He scanned for possible ways out of this mess through his HUD, but his scans came up blank. There was nothing here they could use. They had left their blasters on the Marauder and they’re chances stood at a good 16% success rate. Way too low to try something reckless.

So, he waited instead for the right opportunity.

The Pyke’s leader stepped forward, towards Tech. “So, you think you can beat us, huh? You won’t find anything to use. Your crafty systems and logistics won’t help you, clone,” he said. “You think we wouldn’t notice, huh?”

He was now standing right in front of Tech. He could feel Omega brushing against his back as she shifted closer towards Wrecker.

“Remove it.” The Pyke ordered pointing at Tech’s helmet. Tech didn’t feel like arguing so he obliged. He put the helmet down gently next to him. Every movement send pain through his injured leg.

“Good,” He responded before turning to his fellow Pykes. “Lock them up, till the Empire arrives.”

“Yessir!” They responded in sync.

They headed for the three Bad Batch members, when a blaster bolt hit one of the Pykes straight in the chest.

Echo and Hunter came out from behind cover, guns a blazing.

“Get inside.” Hunter ordered.

Omega and Wrecker rushed up the ramp, but Tech lagged behind, struggling. Every step sent a sharp jolt up his left leg. His sprained femur was screaming at him now.

“Watch out!” Someone shouted.

Too late.

A vibroblade came down hard, slicing across his left cheek. It wasn’t deep enough to do serious damage, but it stung like hell. Tech staggered and fell backward, slamming onto the ramp with a metallic thud.

The Pyke leader, the one he had insulted earlier, loomed over him, blade raised again.

He didn’t get a second chance.

A single blaster bolt tore through the Pyke's chest, dropping him instantly. Hunter stood just meters away, weapon still raised, eyes locked on Tech.

Hunter drooped to crouch beside him. “Wrecker,” he called out, then turned back to Tech. “You alright?” He asked concerned.

Tech gave him a dry look and a curt nod. He wasn’t alright, but now wasn’t the time to argue.

Echo was still returning fire in the distance, he probably hadn’t even registered what had happened. His brother was too focused on the firefight, which Tech considered a good thing. He didn’t want to distract Echo.

A second later, Wrecker was hauling him to his feet. And this time, Tech didn’t complain when Wrecker lifted him off the ground.

It beat limping up the ramp.

Hunter was following behind them, Tech’s helmet in his left hand, returning fire with the blaster in his other.

Wrecker lowered him onto the co-pilot's seat. He gave Wrecker an appreciative nod.

Tech brought his fingers up to his face, when he could feel something wet. Blood probably. There was an incision where the blade had cut into his skin, it would heal up but most definitely not look pretty once it does. It would leave a nasty scar, for sure.

He sighed, before fixing his gaze on the controls in front of him. Hunter took a seat in the pilot's chair.

“Havoc 5? Return to the ship, now!” Wrecker yelled over comms. He was leaning against the bulkhead doorframe.

“Echo, do you read me? We’re taking off. Now!”

First there was static but then. “I’m on my way.” Echo replied.

Blaster fire still echoed in the distance. Louder now, closing in.

Seconds later, Echo burst through the hatch, firing back at the Pykes as he moved. He slammed the controls to retract the ramp and seal the main hatch.

“Punch it.” He shouted.

Hunter was already on it, nodding once as he fired up the engine.

“I’ve preloaded the coordinates for our rout.” Tech informed, hands moving quickly across the dashboard to double check.

Hunter gave him a quick, grateful glance.

They were seconds away from escape when a surge of red light flashed across the hangar bay. A ray shield snapped into place, blocking the exit.

Hunter swore under his breath and swung the Marauder around, angling the rear toward the barrier. “Sithspit,” Hunter cussed out. “Wrecker man the rear canons, we gotta blast our way out of this hellhole.”

“Copy that.” Wrecker replied as the stormed off towards the gunner’s nest. Just moments later they could hear shots being fired.

Tech got out his datapad scanning for anything useful.

Tech picked up his comm, rather than yelling through the entire ship. He was out of breath and the skin around the new cut was stretching weird whenever he yelled. “See the sensors on the far side of the wall. There should be three on either side. Blast them and the ray shield should drop.” Tech informed him.

Tech didn’t need confirmation, he knew Wrecker heard him the second the first sensor exploded. Than the second, the third and forth. But before they could take out the last two, the Marauder shook violently.

“Forward shields are sure taking a beating. We’re at 45% capacity.” Tech warned. The Pykes were firing at the Marauder with all they had. They didn’t aim to kill, they needed the Bad Batch alive, but they aimed to bring down the Marauder.

Tech kept his eyes on the scanner. “They’re not aiming to kill,” he stated. “Their blaster fire is deliberately low-yield, suppressive, not lethal.”

Hunter gritted his teeth as he yanked the controls, avoiding another barrage. “Guessed that much. But why the kriff are they targeting us at all? I thought we made a deal,” he shot a glance back at Echo. “Wasn’t this mission he sent us on supposed to clear our debt?”

“What mission?” Tech questioned. He didn’t get a response.

Echo shook his head, his brow furrowed. “That’s what he said. But maybe…maybe the ones who returned fire weren’t following the same orders. Could’ve been a different Pyke cell entirely. These syndicates are a mess of internal politics. Wouldn’t be the first time their left hand didn’t know what the right was doing.”

Tech nodded. “That theory would account for the inconsistency. Either a rival within the syndicate has a separate agenda, or there was never a unified plan to begin with.”

Hunter muttered. “Great. So, we’re caught in the middle of a kriffing Pyke power struggle.”

“Or worse,” Echo added. “Someone pretending to speak for the syndicate might have the offer, and the others are just following protocol: capture, sell us off to the Empire.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes at the glowing ray shield blocking their exit. “Whatever this is, we’re not gonna figure it out sitting here. First we punch our way out. Then we sort out which Pyke wants us dead, and which one wants a favor.”

No one argued.

Tech turned towards Wrecker who was still aiming at the sensors. The ship shook under another hit. The truth was whoever made a deal clearly needed something from them. But someone else had decided they were more valuable in chains. And that uncertainty, not knowing who was really pulling the strings, was the part that made Tech’s gut twist.

Tech focused back on the scanners, he could continue that train of thought later.

“27% capacity.” He announced.

A couple seconds passed. “21% and deteriorating.” He corrected.

He saw Hunters jaw tighten as he grinded his teeth. “Come on.”

That’s when he heard it, the low hum of the ray shield dropping. The bulkhead door stood open, so Tech could hear Wrecker yelling. “Now!”

“Copy that.” Hunter responded, more to himself than anyone specific.

Wrecker jumped down from the gunner's nest as Omega stormed towards him.

Hunter yanked the control yoke, to turn the Marauder 180° on her axis. They were still halfway inside the hangar, but he hadn’t cared. Hunter activated the hyperdrive. The Marauder shook violently, before jumping.

Echo slid backwards against the wall, crashing not so politely into the bulkhead's door frame and Wrecker caught Omega just in time. Both of whom fell backwards. Now Tech understood why they should better strap in for any future jumps, cause this could have turned out way worse.

“Echo, are you alright?” Tech asked concerned.

“Yeah, hit my head but was still wearing my bucket. I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.” He responded, before taking off his helmet and putting it down on the closest chair. He then proceeded to rub the back of his head, before turning towards Wrecker and Omega.

“You two alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t handle.” Wrecker said proudly.

“Tech? These aren’t the coordinates for Lothal.” Hunter voiced concerned, eyeing the nav computer.

“Yes, I’m aware of this. We needed to cut back on time, so I initiated a micro-jump. It’s dangerous but—” Tech started.

“You did what,” Echo chimed in. “Where are you taking us?”

“Well exit hyperspace in approximately 2 hours and 40 minutes. It won’t be clean—”He was interrupted again.

“Stop stalling and tell us, what the kriff we’ve gotten ourselves into now.” Hunter pushed.

“If my calculations are correct, we should exit hyperspace close on an asteroid filed. It’s very high-stakes but it’ll save us 8 hours of hyperspace travel, than if we would have taken the main route.”

“Are you insane? You wanna get us killed, or what?” Echo complained.

“If we time it perfectly, we should be alright.” Tech defended.

“Should be? That doesn’t sound promising,” Wrecker chimed in as well. He looked worried. “We are so dead.” He added.

“Not if we—”Tech stared again, but Hunter interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s already too late to turn back. Guess we’ll brace ourselves for Impact.” Hunters said in a sarcastic tone.

They were all tense in the cockpit, counting down the minutes. No one spoke.

Tech had eventually swapped places with Hunter, taking the pilot’s seat to gain full control over the Marauder. Tech didn’t argue. He was the one who’d gotten them into this mess, it made sense he’d be the one to fly them out of it.

Hopefully, that was.

“So,” Tech started, still watching stars blur past them in hyperspace. “What exactly is this mission?”

Hunter glanced at him, he was occupying the co-pilot’s seat. “We don’t have much yet. The Pyke who gave the order said if we complete it, our debt’s cleared.”

“How much are we talking about?” Tech asked, only half-expecting an answer.

“...Seven million credits...” Echo muttered grimly.

Wrecker half-choked on a laugh, like he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or horrified.

Tech blinked. “We owe them seven million. Because of what happened on Ord Mantell?”

“Apparently.” Hunter said with a sigh.

Tech adjusted his posture in his seat, trying to ignore the burning throb in his leg. “And they expect us to square a debt that size with one mission?”

Hutter nodded. “That’s what he said. A retrieval job. With a target we’re supposed to bring back alive. The catch is…we won’t be the only ones looking for them.”

“And he mentioned it would test our limits,” Echo added. “Said it’d be a fight for survival.”

“Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good.” Wrecker grumbled.

None of them disagreed.

Omega looked up from where she sat curled in her seat, arms wrapped around her knees. “So…what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know yet, kid,” Hunter admitted. “Right now, our focus is getting Rex and Gregor of Lothal. Once we’ve got them safe, we’ll deal with the Pyke's mission. We’ve got three weeks to complete it, so we’ve got a bit of breathing room.”

“Three weeks isn’t much,” Tech said quietly. “Depending on who this target is and how well they’ve covered their tracks, they could be anywhere in the galaxy.”

“I know,” Hunter replied. “But we prioritize. Rex and Gregor come first.”

Echo nodded in agreement. “This won’t be like our usual runs. The Pyke gave us three weeks for a reason. It’s going to be complicated. Long.”

Tech tapped his injured leg, grimacing. “Let’s hope it doesn’t go like the last few. I’d prefer not to add another scar to the collection.” He said, pointing at scar on his left cheek.

He was trying to reassure the others, but he wasn’t fooling himself either. Something about this mission felt off. And Tech had learned to trust that nagging sense of dread in his gut. It had kept them alive more than once.

They left it at that. That data stick with the mission details would have to wait. For now, their focus had to remain on the extraction. No distractions. Not yet.

“You better strap in, this is not gonna be pretty.” Tech warned.

So, they did. Wrecker headed for the gunner’s nest, ready to shoot any asteroids that dared to get close to the Havoc Marauder. So, Echo took his seat instead. They were all waiting on Tech now.

“Not yet…wait…wait…now!” He said. Before taking the ships out of hyperspace. The engines heavily protested against the command and the hyperdrive made a raspy sound. They were only making things worse.

The stars came back into focus. And just in time. The asteroid field was straight ahead.

Tech swallowed hard. This might have been a bad idea after all, he thought. But there was no turning back now, they were making good time. And time was of the essence.

He navigated the Marauder through the asteroid field with as much precision and caution as possible. They couldn’t stray off course so they couldn’t just fly around it. That was the tricky part.

They had a bunch of close calls and almost collided with a giant asteroid but thankfully he had dodged it, just in time. Everyone was tense. The silence was only broken by the sound of the rear canon, when Wrecker shot at anything that came to close to the ship. Or Tech at least hoped, he wasn’t just wasting aim.

He had focused his attention a second to long on Wrecker before he could hear Hunter yelling. “Tech! Watch out.” He was pointing straight ahead.

Two giant asteroids were headed for each other. Tech pulled the throttle hard to put more power in the forwards engine. The Marauder increased in speed. It was headed straight for the gap in between the giant rocks.

“Tech, what are you doing? We won’t make it in time. Go around them.” Echo panicked.

“No, I can make it.” Tech said determined. He had to.

They finally reached the gap. The asteroids were longer than he had anticipated, and the were still headed for each other and the Marauder was flying in between them. They didn’t stop, and the gap was closing. Tech pushed the engines harder and clung to that sliver of hope that they’ll make it out of this alive.

Time blurred. But then he could see Hunter physically relax, out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t exactly sure when he had zoned out, but they had made it. He turned around and saw the two asteroids colliding just a couple meters behind the rear end of the ship.

Wrecker burst out into a half-hearted laugh. “I can’t believe we actually made it!” He snorted.

“Well, we’re not out of it yet.” Echo reminded them. But he also looked much more relaxed.

The rest of the asteroid field was pretty easy to navigate. Wrecker was still operating the rear canon. Tech was sure that it was definitely nothing that threatened to hit the ship. Because the canon went off way to frequently. Wrecker was probably just having fun—with exploding asteroids—by now. Almost like this whole thing was just a game to him.

He face palmed but let it go eventually.

After about a half hour or so, they finally reached the end.

“Alright, strap in. We’re about to jump again.” Tech announced.

So, they did.

The jumps were getting more violent every time, Tech knew they couldn’t keep brushing it off. Him and Echo needed to fix the karking hyperdrive, soon. He just wasn’t sure when they’re supposed to find the time to do it, because he was sure the rescue mission on Lothal was probably gonna go south as well.

When did one of their missions not go south?

They needed time to figure out what was wrong with the hyperdrive and that was the issue. But for now, they did have time. The only problem was that Tech needed to check the outside of the ship in order to start fixing the issue, he’d already done all he could from the inside. And he still didn’t know what was causing the problems.

So, he decided to head for the medbay instead. He needed to take care of the fracture, before it got any worse. And now he also had to treat the cut on his cheek. He had totally forgotten about it until now, he had been to focused on steering the Marauder and figuring out what was the issue with the karking hyperdrive.

Tech got up from his seat to head for the small medbay aboard.

It wasn’t big or anything, just big enough to fit a cot and some medical supplies, just in case anything ever happened. Thankfully they barely used it. Last time it had been to check up on Echo’s cybernetics, once he had joined their squad.

And before that, to treat Wreckers burns, from the explosion, that had almost cost him his life. He had jumped in front of Tech, to shied him from the heat. Tech still felt bad to this day, because it was supposed to be him but he’s grateful for his brother saving him.

The glassy look in Wreckers left eye always made Tech think back on that day, it reminded him of what Wrecker had risked for him. What he had sacrificed. And Tech hadn’t been able to pay him back, not yet. But he would, some day.

It should never have gotten that far. The blast was meant for him, for Tech. And Wrecker had kriffing jumped in front of him, without even thinking twice about what he was doing. And that’s what troubled Tech. He’s supposed to protect his squad.

So, in response he had come up with new protective strategies, and some enhancements on their armor, to make them more blast protective. He even reinforced all their helmet’s with an extra layer of protection. He’d done everything he could, in hopes of preventing further injuries, but it would never be enough.

And it most certainly wouldn’t make up for what happened to Wrecker.

He tried to shake the thought, as he limped past Echo who was sitting in the nav chair rubbing the back of his head. Pain crept up his femur with every step. Tech thought back on when Echo had crashed into the door frame. He might have a concussion, by the looks of it.

So, he dragged Echo with him towards the medbay. More like Echo helped support Tech’s weight, to help him cross the ship without putting pressure on his left femur.

Tech was sitting on the med cot scanning Echo’s head, for a possible concussion. Though Echo felt pretty alright, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“You’re all clear,” Tech announced. “Just keep it low until we reach Lothal.”

Echo nodded in agreement. He needed a break.

“What can I do for you?” He asked in return.

Tech hesitated before gesturing for the drawer full of painkillers.

“Looks like you’ve finally changed your mind about them. About time.” Hunter said amused. He was leaning against the door frame, Echo hadn’t even noticed him entering.

Tech just rolled his eyes before accepting the painkillers.

“Need some help with that?” Hunter asked, nodding toward the materials Echo had laid out on the cot next to Tech.

Echo raised his scomp link. “Yeah, I could use another pair of hands.”

Together, he and Hunter worked to secure a fresh bacta patch and bandage Tech’s injured femur after the diagnostic scan finished. Tech exhaled sharply as Hunter tightened the wrap.

“It could be worse,” Tech muttered, voice rough. “At least the bone isn’t completely fractured, that’s a relief. I checked earlier, but after the mess with the Pykes, I wasn’t certain,” he paused, eyes on the bandage. “Something tells me it’s not over yet.”

“No,” Echo agreed, keeping his voice low. “I don’t think it is.”

He finally let his attention drift upward, to the Band-Aid on Tech’s left cheek. Bacta cream oozed slightly from the edges. Echo had seen it before but hadn’t had time to asked Tech about it. Now, watching the clear gel glisten against Tech’s armor plating, he wondered how much longer he’d carry these scars.

“What the hell happened to your face, vod?” He asked as he pointed at the scar.

“I guess I’ll leave you two to it, then.” Hunter cut in, stepping back before heading out of the medbay, likely bound for the cockpit.

There was a beat of silence before Tech answered.

“One of the Pykes caught me with a vibroblade,” he said eventually. “Nothing too serious. Hunter shot him before he could take another swing.”

He sounded…embarrassed.

Echo hesitated. “I’m sorry,” he offered, not sure what else to say.

Tech just huffed and let himself fell back onto the cot, needing rest.

Echo quietly left the medbay and made his way to the cockpit. He sat down in the co-pilo's seat to Hunter's left, who was occupying the pilot's seat. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Echo broke the silence.

“You remember the time when everything was just so much easier, ya know? Where we didn’t have to run every time, we touch down. Or use fake identification. I miss those days,” he paused, before staring out at the hyperspace lanes that flashed outside the transparisteel of the  viewport. “I miss them. Domino Squad, my brothers…they didn’t deserve it.”

“None of them did.” Hunter paused. “No brother that died in this kriffing war. All the lives lost just for this to be the outcome, huh?”

The both of them were staring at the hyperspace lanes through the forward viewport.

The silence was soothing for once, not harsh or cold. Just necessary. It didn’t feel like they were drowning in it for once. Not like most times.

Echo got thinking.

Thinking about his twin, and how much fun they used to have. They would always get themselves in trouble. Well, most of the time Fives had started it and Echo was somehow dragged into the chaos.

Fives and him had played a prank on Captain Rex right before they left for Lola Sayu. The prank of course backfired but it had certainly been worth it. Rex gave them a month of sanitation duty, but Echo had been taken by the Separatists just days later.

He wondered if Fives ever actually completed the punishment without Echo?

Fives and him used to have way too much fun together, a member of Torrent Company called them ‘pranksters’ once. It certainly fit their description.

He missed it. He missed Fives and all the fun they had together.

Hunters voice cut through his thoughts.

“How’s Tech?” He asked concerned.

Echo looked back towards them med bay, the bulkhead's as well as the med bay's door were still open. Tech lay on the cot resting. He looked peaceful but Echo knew better, it was just a front. There was a storm brewing inside his brothers head, just like in his own.

“He’s made about it. Tech, I mean. About the scar. He doesn’t voice it, but I can see it I his eyes.” Echo said after both had sat in silence.

“He’s being Tech about it. He’s made that he can’t cover this one up that easily, not like the other ones. It’s right on his face, and he hates it.” Hunter added.

“Yeah, understandable.” Echo responded, looking down at his scomp link, where his right hand should have been. Echo remembered a time when he also used to care about his looks, before Lola Sayu. Before the Techno Union carved him up and turned him into something new.

Echo had stopped caring about how he looked like ever since, he had focused his energy on surviving and taking care of his crew. His looks where the least of his concerns.

But he remembers a time when he had been similar to Tech, back when they were still cadets.

Echo had gotten hurt badly during a mess hall fight. Following this he had a full blown freakout, fearing their trainers would find out and deem him unfit for combat.

Echo used to cling to the regs like a lifeline, but he wasn't that person anymore. He still cared about protocol, but he had eased up a little ever since Skako Minor. The old Echo died on Lola Sayu; he was different now. For better or for worse, he wasn't sure?

After the mess hall incident, he hadn't been the only one in bad shape, though Echo still felt like it had been his fault. He should have stepped in before it had escalated. It wasn’t like they were at the top of the training roster or anything, so the trainers cared little if they were reassigned to sanitation duty or worse. Decommissioned.

But thankfully they weren’t.

He was still unsure how they made it out without major consequences. Echo had always believed it to be luck, but now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. There had to have been more to it. Something they weren't ready to understand, not yet.

Technically, the whole fight had been his twin’s fault. Fives had started the it when he had attacked a member of Bravo Squad.

Echo remembers it all too well.

“Alright so, what’s the plan?” Droitbait asked excitedly.

“What plan? What am I missing?” Cutup chimed in.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Hevy started. “CT-27-5555 and CT-21-0408 are gonna steal the Sabacc card deck from Alpha-17 next rotation. Remember?”

“Wait,” Echo paused, spinning on his heals to face them. “Since when was I involved?” He asked, eyes wide.

He respected the ARC trooper, he didn’t wanna get in trouble for somethings as stupid as Sabacc cards. They didn’t even know how to play, but Fives had insisted and volunteered to retrieve them. He said that ‘they’ll figure out how to play as soon as they’ve retrieved the cards’.

It had been another one of Fives ingenious ideas, that was gonna get them in trouble.

The four of them were walking through the mess hall with their trays in their hands. The room was filled to the brim with cadets of all ages.

“Remind me to not have chow during this time. Literally every table is occupied,” Hevy sighed. “Great! The floor it is.” He said sounding disappointed.

Echo could see another cadet approaching. More like sprinting at them. The drink on his tray almost slid off when the cadet came to a sudden hold, almost crashing into ‘Bait.

They all shared the same face, so it was difficult to tell each other apart. As the cadet grinned Echo instantly knew who it was. Of course, who else had he expected?

“CT-27-5555 you almost ran me over,” 'Bait cried out. “Can't you be more careful?”

“Sorry, CT-00-2010. I wasn’t paying attention. But I have good news, that I wanted to share with you,” he said proudly. “Alpha-17 is out tonight, his barracks should be unoccupied. So, we can sneak in, grab the Sabacc cards and disappear before anyone can notice.”

Echo hated everything about that plan. But the worst part, he was supposed to go with Fives. He doesn’t wanna imagine, what Alpha-17 will do to them if they get caught. No, not if. When they get caught. Because when has one of Fives' plans ever not gone terribly wrong?

He tried swallowing the lump in his throat as they continued walking. They had abandoned the Idea of sitting on the cold floor as soon as Fives had showed up.

Fives was leading them to one of the tables in the far corner of the mess hall. It was one of the larger tables, that would fit more than one squad. The rest of the tables were designed for six grown cadets max. And since all tables were occupied, they had no other choice.

“So, you’re really going through with this, are you?” Echo said. He was scared.

“Oh, come on vod, it’s gonna be fun,” Fives exclaimed. “You were the one who wanted to play Sabacc in the first place, remember?” He urged.

Well, his brother wasn’t wrong, but stealing from their superior, who was a respected Alpha-class ARC trooper, was a stupid plan. “Yes, I know. But I don’t feel good about it. What if we get caught?” Echo expressed.

“We won’t.” Fives reassured.

They had reached one of the tables. Cutup set down his tray as one of the cadets, turned towards them with a judgmental expression on his face as he scanned Echo’s squad with his eyes. They were about the same age as Domino; around fourteen years old.

“You’re Domino Squad, right?” He asked, spitting out their squad’s name like it was forbidden to say.

“Yeah, why?” ‘Bait answered shyly.

“So, what do you think you’re doing? Hmm?” The cadet said annoyed.

“Yeah, this table isn’t for losers. WE don’t wanna be associated with nibral like you!” Another cadet expressed. He had a disgusted look on his face.

Cutup just shrugged and sat down anyways. The rest of Domino was still standing around the table. “What are you guys waiting for.” He gestured for them to join him.

‘Bait sighed and walked around the table. As he set down his tray as well, the member from the other squad who addressed them first jumped up in disbelieve about Dominos ignorance.

“Get up right now! Are you deaf?” The other cadet snapped. “WE don’t want you here.” He said angrily.

Droitbait took a deep breath before picking his tray back up.

“No! Leave it CT-00-2010. We are not leaving.” Fives said determined. He stepped closer, until we was standing right in front of the cadet from the other squad.

“Leave it be CT-27-5555. It’s not worth it. We’ll just find a different table.” Echo tried to calm him, to no avail.

Fives took another step until he was right in the other cadet’s face. He had an angry grin on his own face; this couldn’t mean anything good.

“We’ll I presume you must be Bravo Squad then.” Fives said crossing his arms over his chest, taking a step back as he checked all of them over.

“Bravo for Bravo Squad!” Cutup said mockingly.

The next thing Echo knew was someone’s food hitting him right in the face. As he wiped it off he could see another members of Bravo Squad, who had stayed silent until now, holding some of the porridge in his hand. “Eat that!” He shouted.

This had been a mistake, he could see Fives losing his temper a second later before he leapt across the table, pinning the other cadet to the ground with his left hand as he started punching him with his right.

“Don’t you ever assault my squad again!” He warned.

“CT-27-5555 watch ou—” Echo tried to warn him. But it was too late. It had taken him too long to shout out his brother's designation, that Fives couldn’t react in time to his warning.

A member of Bravo Squad had brained him with his tray right in the back of the head. He could hear his brother cry out in pain. He prayed for Fives to stay down, but of course he didn’t.

Fives grabbed the tray which now lay next to him as he got up and shoved it into the other cadet’s stomach. Echo could hear the sound of air escaping his lungs. The Bravo Squad member crumbled to the ground gasping for air.

“Who wants to go next?” Fives started as he got back up, rubbing the back of his head.

“You di’kut!” was all Echo could manage to say, why didn’t Fives just let it go.

“CT-27-5555 stop it right now,” ‘Bait cried out. “You’re gonna get us in troubl—” but he was cut off when a bowl hit his forehead. He stumbled backwards against the wall; he caught himself last second. Ration paste was sliding down Droidbait's face and dropped onto his tunic.

“Alright you’re done!” Hevy said as he shoved Echo aside heading straight for the cadet who had thrown the bowl at ‘Bait. Echo tried to stop him, but Hevy just shoved him backwards.

Not long after, all five members of Domino were participating in the fight, swarming Bravo Squad. Just when it had looked like they were winning because it was five against four, another Squad chimed in; supporting Bravo Squad, of course.

The cadet Fives had knocked out earlier with the tray was still on the ground, he hadn’t dared to stand up. Echo guessed he might actually be seriously injured as he took in the cadet who was still curled up on the floor.

He had been focusing on the wrong Bravo Squad member, because a second later he got swarmed by two other cadets. He could see that Fives was cornered by three cadets. It looked like he was holding his own fairly well against them. “What are you waiting for?” Fives provoked, looking way to enthusiastic for Echo’s liking.

‘Bait was leaning against one of the walls trying to recuperate. He had sat out most of the fight. After he got hit by yet another bowl. Echo guessed he just had enough, and he didn’t blame his brother.

He couldn’t spot either Hevy or Cutup, but by the amount of shouting he was hearing they were still very much involved in the fight.

Echo shifted his attention back to the two cadets that were currently attacking him. His body was feeling awful, he was sure he was gonna wake up with a bunch of bruises the next morning.

He was certainly not looking forward to that.

Suddenly something heavy struck across his face, he winced before stumbling backwards. Echo hit the ground hard, with a loud thud.

Everything faded to black.

When he opened his eyes again he’s being blinded by a bright light shing right on his face. It was silent around him, which was strange because the last thing he remembered was shouting.

He flung his body in an upright position instantly, barely missing the lamp above him. As he glanced around the room he realized that he was not in the mess hall anymore, it looked like the medical bay.

Had he passed out?

He tried to remember but his head was spinning. That’s when he registered a familiar face across the room. Well, it was the same face as his, but that was beside the point.

“CT-00-2010, are you alright?” He asked, still feeling slightly dizzy.

The other cadet looked confused as he searched the room and fixed his gaze back on Echo. “Wait, me?” He asked confused, pointing a finger at his chest.

When he didn’t get an answer out of Echo he continued. “Wow you really got to be out of it CT-21-0408,” he said as he started laughing. “I’m not CT-00-2010. It’s me CT-782.”

Echo felt ashamed; he had just mixed up two members of Domino.

“Hey, it’s alright. I won’t tell him.” Hevy said with a smile on his face.

“Thanks.” Echo replied.

How could he be that stupid? Well, after all they shared the same face, but he had thought he was at least able to tell the Domino Squad members apart.

“Where are the others?” He asked concerned.

It took Hevy a second to respond.

“CT-4040 got released yesterday. He somehow managed to remain mostly unscratched,” he paused looking down at the ground as he took a deep breath. “Even though CT-00-2010 sat out most of the fight, he got hit pretty good. It almost looked like they had it out for him in the end there. He’s still in the infirmary. The doctors told me that he's still on heavy drugs, so it’ll take a bit before he wakes up.”

Poor ‘Bait, that doesn’t sound good at all.

“I was worried that you weren’t gonna wake up at all. Bravo Squad got you pretty good. They had to stich you up.” He explained.

“What?!” Echo shouted.

He had gotten stitches, no that was his worst nightmare. What if they’ll deem him unfit to be a trooper? He’s gonna get decommissioned.

Their squad is gonna get decommissioned.

They had gotten into a big fight with two other squads, that couldn’t be good either. They’re in so much trouble now. All of that just because Cutup and Fives had insisted on sitting at that kriffing table.

He was so angry at them.

No.

He shouldn’t be angry at his squad. He should be angry at Bravo Squad instead, if they would’ve let Domino sit down, all of this could have been avoided.

“What about Bravo Squad and the other one?” He asked, his voice was shaky.

“Bravo Squad got banged up pretty good. They look about as bad as we do. That one cadet CT-27-5555 attacked with the tray at the beginning…well…Wait, you know who I’m talking about, right?” Hevy asked, before continuing.

Echo nodded in response.

Hevy took a deep breath. He looked scared. “Well, he got hit pretty bad. The medics said he was barely able to breath. They also said that he’s not gonna make a full recovery so he's probably gonna get reconditioned or worse. Decommissioned. Let’s hope not.”

Echo could hear regret in Hevy’s voice.

“That’s awful.” was all he managed to say.

Because of them, one of their brothers wasn’t gonna become a trooper. It was their fault. Now Bravo Squad was one member short. He started to panic, they’re gonna get in so much trouble.

All because of Fives.

That’s when he remembered he forgot to ask Hevy about Fives. How could he have forgotten.

“But what about CT-27-5555?” He asked, looking even more worried than before.

“So,” Hevy began. This couldn’t be a good sign, Echo thought, when Hevy took a deep breath before continuing. “He’s got spraint ankle and a broken wrist but nothing to dramatic. The doctors said it will heal just fine. He did have to get surgery on his wrist though—”

Echo had to interrupt him. “Anyone else got a surgery,” he began. “Wait where is he?”

“Well, you got some stitches on your right shin, but you probably don’t remember getting hit. I think you were already out for that one. Besides you two, I don’t think anyone else from Domino got surgery. CT-00-2010 spent about a day in bacta but that’s about it.” Hevy explained. He still looked worried.

“For your second question. CT-27-5555 got released this morning. They wanted to talk to one member of our squad and since, us two and CT-00-2010 aren’t officially released yet, it either had to be him or CT-4040.”

He paused, nervously shifting his weight. “The ARCs as well as the Kaminiies wanted to know what exactly had happened. They had already talked to Bravo and the other squad and were waiting on our testimony. CT-27-5555 volunteered. He said he’ll check up on us as soon as the meeting got done,” he paused again. “That was hours ago. I’m worried for him.”

“Wait. CT-27-5555 testified on our behalf?” Echo asked concerned.

Hevy nodded.

“But he’s a terribly liar. We’re so done for!” He crashed back onto the pillow facepalming. Well, there’s no way that meeting went well.

“How long has it—” Echo stared.

Hevy answered before Echo could even finish the sentence. “About three rotations! You’ve been out for a while. The pain meds should start wearing off soon. It sure ain’t fun. I can tell you that much.” Hevy explained.

Echo’s head started spinning again.

“Echo. Hey! Can you hear me?” Echo suddenly snapped back to reality. Hunter was snapping his fingers in front of Echo’s face.

“Yeah, sorry. I just got thinking about...doesn’t matter. What is it?”

“You should really get some rest. I don’t think you ever made it to your bunk last time, right?” Hunter asked.

“No, that’s when Rex’s transmission had gone through.”

“Well, than I think it’s time for you to take a break now.” Hunter suggested.

Echo wanted to protest but Hunter was right. He needed sleep. So, he just nodded instead. Echo headed straight for his bunk, no detours. Nothing.

He passed out almost instantly.

When he woke, several hours had passed.

According to Tech, they still had a little bit over a day left of hyperspace travel before they’ll reach the Lothal sector. He was bored until he remembered something.

Crosshairs datapad. He had totally forgotten about it. He fished it out of Crosshair’s gear where he had stored it safely before heading towards Tech. Who sat in front of the navigation panel, probably processing some data. Omega was up front, in the cockpit with Hunter, and Wrecker was snoring loudly in his bunk.

“Hey, Tech? I found this right after Rex’s transmission, but I didn’t have time to go through it yet,” he paused. “It’s Crosshair's. I thought he hadn’t used it in forever, but it still got some juice left, which can only mean he had recharged and used it more recently than we had believed.”

“When?” Tech asked, furrowing his brow.

“I’m not sure. I was thinking back on Kamino after the venators destroyed Tipoca City. When we returned back to the platform, I think Crosshair entered the Marauder. It was only a couple minutes. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe, just maybe he left behind a message for us.”

He handed Tech the datapad.

“It’s locked and encrypted. Would you help me crack it?” Echo asked.

“Of course. It won't take long.” Tech said as he instantly connected the datapad to his own, as he started encrypting the passcode. It only took a few minutes, and Tech had bypassed the lockscreen. They were in.

Tech handed it to Echo. It was almost wiped clean, just one document remained. Crosshair had probably deleted everything else.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Not sure, but it was added recently.” Tech announced. “The data suggests that it had been added approximately five months ago. So, you’re right. That must have been around the time Tipoca City fell.”

Echo opened the Document. It wasn’t much but enough to worry him. “What’s ‘Project First Light’?” He asked.

“What?”

“That’s what it says. The message, it talks about this secretive project called ‘Project First Light’. If he went through all that trouble to share this with us, it has to be important, right?” Echo asked.

Tech didn’t respond. Instead, he went through the files on his own datapad, trying to find anything under this code name. From the disappointed look on Tech's face and the loud sigh that escaped his lungs Echo guessed that Tech probably didn’t find what they were looking for.

“I have gone through all of the Republic’s old records, and I can’t find anything on this project. It might be one of the Empire's—”

“Or the Kaminiies?” Echo cut him off.

“I’ll check that next.” Tech said before focusing back on the data. Meanwhile Echo inserted his scomp link into the communication panel, taking advantage of all of their resources.

But he also couldn’t find anything on it.

Tech finally looked up again, after what felt like hours. “I can’t find anything. Either this project doesn’t exist or it’s one of the best kept secrets of the Kaminoans, the Republic or maybe even the Empire. All three options are highly likely,” Tech began. “Therefore, I think we should keep digging. There has to be something on it, somewhere. Now that we know it exists, maybe we’ll find something eventually.”

“Yeah, just wish Tipoca City was still standing. Would make it easier.” Echo huffed.

“Technically no, because that would mean that the scientists that would have kept this project a secret would still be around to keep it buried.” he paused. “So, no. I think it would have made it harder. We might not have any direct access to the information through Kaminoan databanks, but there has to be something about it somewhere out there. I’m sure of it.”

There was a long pause, then. “What you think it’s about?” Echo asked gently.

“I’m not sure. It could stand for anything. My guess be a start of something big. ‘First Light’ that sounds like a dawn of a new era. And quite frankly, I’m not sure if I really wanna know what it stands for.” Tech explained.

“You think it’s that bad?”

“I think, we don’t know enough to judge,” Tech corrected. “But we’ll look into it, whenever we can.” He reassured.

The next couple hours were spent with games of Sabacc, sleep and waiting around. Until Hunter walked into the crew deck. He had stayed in the cockpit most of the time, watching the controls, ready if anything would act up. Which it thankfully didn’t.

“Alright, we’re about to drop out of hyperspace, if it’ll be anything like the last time we should probably strap in.” He announced.

Echo rubbed the back of his head, where he had hit the metal door frame just about 57 hours prior. “Yeah, probably not a bad Idea,” he turned towards Wrecker and Omega, who were still at the table, Sabacc cards in hand. “What are you two waiting for?” He urged.

Wrecker sighed, before getting up. The two of them headed for the cockpit, so did Tech.

Tech's limp had gotten better, and his face didn’t twist from the pain anymore, which Echo counted as an improvement. Or at least Tech was hiding the pain better, Echo wasn’t sure. But he was still favoring his left leg, that was for certain.

Echo and Hunter had both buckled up in the crew deck. Hunter had felt bad, so he had joined Echo. Tech was managing the controls, with Wrecker as his co-pilot. Omega had sat down on one of the back seats in the cockpit, waiting in anticipation.

The jump was anything but smooth, but at least none of them got hurt this time around.

“You think, we’re already too late?” Echo asked, keeping his voice low.

Hunter waited a second before responding. “I’m not sure. I hope not, but it’s almost been three days. We were able to cut some time with Tech’s risky maneuver, but it might have been just enough time for them to get captured. But we won’t give up, that’s for certain.” Hunter announced.

He gave Echo a crocked smile, his lips also twitched upwards. But it only lasted a moment.

Wrecker stormed through the bulkhead door.

“You should probably. Head up front. We have a slight problem at our hands.” Wrecker announced. He looked worried.

“By slight problem he means big problem.” Tech corrected.

Wrecker gave them a worried grin before heading back through the bulkhead door. He disappeared into the cockpit as the door hissed closed again.

Echo took a deep breath.

Would they ever catch a break?

Chapter Text

Echo sat across from him, stiff and silent, eyes locked on the scomp link where his right hand should have been. He hadn’t looked up once since Wrecker had stormed in with the news.

Hunter could feel it, something was off. He didn’t know exactly what complications they’d run into this time, but his senses were flaring like a warning siren. That familiar unease had crept in just before they dropped out of hyperspace, and he’d been trying to push it aside ever since.

But now? Now it was screaming.

He let out a slow breath and unbuckled his harness, rising to his feet. Echo still hadn’t moved. Shoulders tight, jaw clenched, completely absorbed in whatever was running through his head. Or maybe he was just trying not to feel it.

Hunter eased down into the seat beside him. “Echo,” he said quietly. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

No response.

That silence told him everything. He’d seen Echo like this before. Quiet, locked down, retreating into himself. Which usually meant he was either processing something heavy or preparing for the worst.

Probably both.

Hunter figured he was brooding about the mission. Or maybe the name Tech and Echo had discovered ‘Project First Light’. That was all they’d gotten. No files. No records. Nothing. Just a name. But it had been enough to make Hunter’s stomach twist.

There was something off about it. The way it sounded. Like a promise, or maybe a threat. A new beginning? Maybe. Or the end of something else. Maybe both.

It felt final.

One of those names that made your skin crawl before you even understood why.

And if Crosshair had left the message…it meant something. Something bad.

Hunter didn’t scare easy. But whatever this was? He already had the gut-deep feeling that they’d regret looking any deeper. That once they uncover the truth, they’d wish they hadn’t.

But they didn’t have a choice. Not if Crosshair was somehow involved.

He snapped back to the present and reached out, gently placing a hand on Echo’s organic one.

“Come on,” he said, quiet but firm. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Echo finally lifted his eyes, meeting Hunter’s gaze with a small nod. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. Hunter could see it in his eyes.

He was still in his head.

But for now, they had work to do. And deal with whatever issue they’ve run into this time around.

The door hissed open and the two of them stepped into the cockpit.

Hunter froze.

It was worse than he had imagined. He thought back on what Rex had told them over holo. How Rex had warned them about a possible blockade over Lothal, but this was certainly not what he had expected.

And judging by everyone’s expressions and stiff forms, he wasn’t the only one who thought that way. They stood there for a couple more moments before anyone said anything.

Echo was the first to break the silence. “Kriff. What are we gonna do?”

No one had an answer.

All of them stared through the transparisteel of the forward viewport. A blockade of a total of seven Venator-class star destroyers were surrounding the planet.

Tech's hands flew across the dashboard, pressing the buttons underneath the scanner of the nav computer frantically. “We have to abort now!” Tech announced.

Hunter wanted to disagree, but he knew they had no choice. It be suicide to keep going.

“What? No,” Omega cut in. “We can’t. Rex needs our help!”

Tech turned around looking at her, his face twisted in pain. The scar on his left cheek glitzed in the low light of the cockpit. He looked worried.

“You think I don’t know that,” Tech started. “But we’re no good to them if we get captured. Or killed. It is very likely that we exited hyperspace close enough to appear on their scanners. We have to aboard, now!”

Hunter wasn’t pleased, but Tech was right. They’re no good to Rex if they’re dead. “Alright, aboard mission—” He announced.

Omega interrupted him again. “But they don’t have time. Hunter please.” She pleaded.

He crouched down next to her. “I’m sorry, kid. We’ll make a plan first and then we’ll help Rex and Gregor. We are not abandoning them, you hear me?”

Echo gave him an approving nod while Wrecker just grunted.

“He’s right.” Echo agreed. “Hunter, your call.”

Hunter swallowed hard.

He tried to convince himself this was the right thing to do; they’re only option. The captain and his comrade will have to hold out a bit longer. “Echo, send them the transmission that we entered the airspace,” he turned towards Tech. “Get us out of here.”

“Affirmative.” Tech responded as he reached for the controls.

Echo disappeared through the bulkhead door, headed towards the communication panel.

Tech twisted the control yoke around, but the Havoc Marauder didn’t turn. He tried again.

Nothing. Suspended in space, unmoving.

“Well, that’s odd.” Wrecker observed, looking slightly worried.

Tech started pressing multiple buttons as his hands flew across the dashboard, frantically testing different controls. “Controls are down. If I didn’t know any better I’d say they caught us in a tractor beam.” Tech sounded way to relaxed for Hunter’s likening.

“A tractor beam? Since when ate the venators equipped with one?” Wrecker asked confused.

“Technically, they have always been equipped with a tractor beam. The Republic rarely got any use out of them during the war. But I guess the Empire sees things differently.” Tech explained.

Hunter didn’t like the sound of that. If they were really caught in one, there’s likely no chance at escape. But they still had to try. They stood there for a couple moments unsure of what to do. Unsure if they could even do anything.

The bulkhead door hissed open again, and Echo stepped back into the cockpit.

“Neither of them answered.” He said flatly.

Hunter’s gut twisted. That wasn’t right.

Rex always answered transmissions. Always. There could only be one reason to why he wouldn’t now; they’d been compromised. Possibly even captured by the Empire. Just like them.

Echo’s eyes scanned the room, uncertain. He hadn’t been there when Tech confirmed their situation.

“We’re caught,” Hunter told him. “One of the Venators has us locked in a tractor beam.”

Silence settled over the cockpit like a weight. No one said a word.

Then, “Is there anything we can do to override it?” Echo ask frantically.

“I could attempt a standard systems bypass, but the likelihood of success is minimal. Our best course of action is to anticipate the worst-case scenario. Specifically, the tractor beam will keep us grounded. And based on the configuration of Venator-class systems, that is highly probable.” Tech stated, adjusting his googles slightly.

“Then, let’s hope we don’t get grounded.” Omega said, voice small, like she didn’t believe in it.

None of them did.

All of them stood there, brooding as the Marauder was pulled in closer towards the Venator located towards the center of the blockade. It was probably their main cruiser.

They had to come up with a plan, fast. He was running different options through his head.

Surrender?

No, not an option.

Fighting their way out?

Even less chance of survival

That’s when it hit him. “I have an idea. It’s risky but it might work.”

They all turned towards him, waiting, anticipating.

“They’ll probably send a boarding crew. We take them out quietly and Echo, Tech and I slip on their armor—” He began.

“What about us,” Wrecker asked, gesturing at both him and Omega. “We won’t fit into the reg’s armor?”

Hunter frowned. This could be a problem. Too risky? Definitely. But at this point, risk wasn’t the issue. They didn’t have another choice.

He turned to Echo. “You’ll take the armor from one of the troopers in the boarding squad. Use the exhaust vent to slip out. Once you’re clear, access a terminal and guide us through from the outside. If we end up grounded, locate the override access for the tractor beam. We’ll need to know where to hit it.”

“Copy that. “Echo replied with a sharp nod, already in mission mode.

Hunter glanced at Tech, than back at the others. “If I remember correctly, there are a lot of access panels in the forward hangar bay, assuming that’s where the tractor beam pulls us in,” he exhaled slowly. “Tech and I will wear their armor as well. We’ll fake a prisoner transfer. You two—” he looked at Wrecker, and then Omega. “—you’ll be our prisoners. Once we’re in and clear of the immediate area, we regroup with Echo and adjust from there.”

Hunter hated saying it. Hated even more what it meant. Putting Omega in restraints, using her like bait. His instinct screamed against it. That wasn’t how he protected her.

But if they left her on the Marauder and something happened…he’d never forgive himself.

At least this way, she was with them. And if any imperial so much as looked at her the wrong way, he’d tear the whole hangar apart to get to her. Cover or not.

“That’s actually…not a terrible plan.” Tech commented, breaking the silence.

That comment earned him a few strange looks from the group.

“I’m aware the odds are unfavorable, and that multiple failure points exist,” Tech added calmly. “However, given our current circumstances, I see no alternative path with a higher success probability.”

“We’ll have to go radio silent, or the imperials will know that something’s wrong.” Echo added.

They all nodded in agreement.

Tech continued briskly. “If we’re immobilized, a manual override will be necessary. However, it cannot be done from the hanger bay. In the event of a lockdown or security escalation, tractor beam control is rerouted to the primary systems console on the starboard command tower; the main bridge. Hanger personnel will not have authorization to deactivate it. I’ll need to infiltrate the tower and slice into the bridge controls directly.”

Silence settled over them like a fog. No one had anything to say to that, because there wasn’t anything to say. They could hope it wouldn’t come to this, sure…but deep down, they all knew it would.

When had anything ever gone easy for them?

Tech spoke again, his voice steady but distant, like his mind was already ten steps ahead.

“I presume we are not planning to depart aboard a different vessel?” He asked, more of a confirmation than a question. He was already calculating their next moves, Hunter could tell.

They all nodded, no hesitation.

Yeah, it wasn’t going to be easy. But when was it ever? And there was no way they’d be leaving without the Marauder. It was their home.

“Okay everyone’s clear on the plan?” Echo asked quietly.

A round of silent nods answered him.

The massive hangar bay yawned open before them, bright and cold and far too exposed for Hunter’s taste.

He hated this plan, despite it being his idea. Too many unknowns. Too many ways it could fall apart.

“Wait!” Wrecker’s voice cut through his thoughts. They all turned to face him.

“Aren’t we supposed to be dead? Wouldn’t they recognize Omega and me?”

“Most likely, yes,” Tech replied, calm as ever. “But we don’t have a better alternative. It’s a risk we have to take.”

“They probably already know it’s us anyway,” he added. “The Marauder isn’t exactly subtle. There aren’t that many Omicron-class shuttles left, and with the modifications we’ve made…well, I’m certain they’ve already drawn their conclusions.”

That sank like a weight in Hunter’s gut.

He should’ve seen that coming. Should’ve planned for it. But Tech was right, if the Empire hadn’t confirmed their identities yet, they would soon.

“That is if the units from Serenno haven’t already reported us in. We weren’t exactly subtle.” Echo added.

“Or if the Pykes did tip them off back at the fueling station, then it’s only a matter of time,” Hunter said. “It was never going to stay quiet for long. Even if Crosshair didn’t expose us, once the Empire came for him on Kamino. If they ever did…”

He tried swallowing the lump in his throat. What if Crosshair never made it off? He betrayed them. Yes. But he was still their brother, still a member of this squad.

 “And if the Empire never got that transmission from the Pykes or the report from Serenno,” Tech followed up. “Then this way, they’ll believe only Wrecker and Omega survived. As long as we sell it, they won’t question the rest.”

“So…we’re going with this story?” Omega asked, her voice small but steady.

Hunter exhaled slowly. “Yeah. You two made it off Kamino. The rest of us didn’t. That’s the story. Let’s run with it and see how far it gets us.”

He paused, gaze fixed on the hangar ahead. “And if they figure it out…doesn’t matter. We’ll still have the element of surprise.”

The ship jolted.

Hunter steadied himself as the Havoc Marauder was drawn into the main forward hanger of the Venator-class Star Destroyer—the main cruiser—most likely. The tractor beam had them locked in tight.

He looked up through the viewport, eyes tracing the looming command bridges overhead. Something about this ship made his stomach twist. Not fear, not exactly. But something darker. Familiar, wrong.

His gut told him something was off.

And if there was one thing Hunter trusted more than anything, it was his instincts.

Through the transparisteel, he could make out a platoon’s worth of imperial troopers waiting in formation. Lined up just beyond the hangar deck. Most wore Phase II clone armor. But not all.

About a fifth of them were already in the new Imperial gear, sleek, cold, impersonal.

Hunter hated that armor.

He hated what it stood for.

They were replacing his brothers with recruits. Civvies. People who hadn’t grown up on Kamino, who hadn’t trained every day of their life to become a soldier.

He clenched his jaw.

Part of him knew it made it easier. Easier to pull the trigger when the people firing back weren’t clones. When they weren’t his brothers.

Because when it was clones…he knew what it meant.

The clones didn’t have a choice.

They followed orders because something in their heads forced them to. Something none of them had asked for.

The Bad Batch had been lucky. Luckier than most.

Except Crosshair.

Crosshair had chosen the Empire.

He had said he removed his chip, that he stayed because he wanted to. He had saved Omega and AZ-3 back on Kamino when Tipoca City fell, they offered him to join them. Be part of their squad again. But he had refused, he stayed behind. Alone.

Hunter still didn’t understand that.

He wasn’t sure he ever would.

Then he thought about Rex. About how hard the Captain was fighting to free those still under control. He and Gregor had probably been on Lothal, neck-deep in another mission, trying to dig out more intel, when they were discovered.

They were risking everything for the clones who didn’t even know they needed saving.

And Hunter respected that.

He was just hoping that the two of them were alright. Or at least better off than them, because his squad’s odds didn’t look to bright right now.

Hopefully they’ll find them soon, with any luck not in restraints.

But what were the odds?

The Marauder jolted as the landing gear touched down on the durasteel floor of the Venator. This was it, no turning back. Wrecker and Omega were already in position, waiting. Hunter was leaning against the bulkhead, Echo to his left.

Tech’s datapad was plugged into the ships systems. His fingers flying across the screen.

“And?” Echo asked, impatiently. Hunter didn’t blame him, he was also on edge.

Tech sighed. “Looks like my calculations were correct, unfortunately,” he paused. “We’re grounded. Just as I had predicted. Emergency protocol was most likely activated.” He turned to face Echo. “Once you’re at the terminal, check if you can deactivate the tractor beam…if not…we’ll have to head for the main command bridge.”

“Since we’re going radio silent, I’ll send you an encrypted message once I’ve found something.” Echo replied.

Tech nodded in response.

Hunter swallowed hard.

He had known this, had anticipated this outcome. But now that it actually happened, he couldn’t stop worrying. Not for himself, but for Omega. He wanted to protect her, but he wasn’t sure if he could this time around. But he would try, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Alright. Everyone to your positions, we'll wait. Then we ambush them,” Hunter cut through the silence. “Hopefully.” He added.

Tech and Echo nodded as they headed for the crew deck. The bulkhead door hissed close behind them.

Omega was hiding in the gunner’s nest, holding onto her energy bow. Wrecker and Echo were pressed against the two corners of the bulkhead, ready for the boarding crew to enter. Tech was to his right, gaze fixed on the datapad in his hands. Probably still trying to come up with a different plan, one with better odds.

To no avail. Because there were none.

Hunter was crouching behind one of the nav chairs, senses on high alert. He could hear boots shoveling outside, movement. Then, the ship jolted, as the hinges of the main hatch were blow open. The ramp lowering in response.

The imperial troops were about to enter, this had to work. He didn’t wanna have to think about what it would mean if it didn’t.

He heard footsteps on the other side of the closed bulkhead door, he saw Wrecker flinch ever so slightly. He saw Echo’s grip on his blaster tighten.

Hunter could hear voices to quiet to make out any words. He held his breath as he turned to check on Omega. She was still crouched behind the chair, up in the gunner’s nest. Good, she would hopefully be safe up there.

He focused back on the bulkhead. The door hissed open, and nine troopers stepped inside. He took another breath, held up his fist signaling his crew. All eyes were on him, waiting for him to give the order.

The first trooper stepped inside the crew deck.

‘Now’ he signaled his squad.

Without hesitation the Bad Batch moved, shooting down the first three troopers before they even knew what was happening. Those three looked to be civvies, judging by their armor. They were caught off guard, not like the other six that had been on high alert since they had entered. That’s what years of training on Kamino prepared you for, to be ready for anything.

The other six looked to be clones, they were faster to react. Just like Hunter had anticipated.

Shots rang through the room, hitting plastoid, scorching the walls. Hunter fired two shots, they took down one of the troopers, precise as ever. The remaining troopers were good, but the Batch was better.

But they couldn’t just shoot all the troopers point blank, they needed their armor to look mostly unscratched, or their cover be blown. Hunter got out his vibroblade and headed for one of the shinies. Careful to not damage the plastoid.

“Sorry, brother.” He muttered before slamming the blade in-between the plastoid on the troopers neck. The shiny dropped a second later, unmoving.

First out of three.

It was harder than expected, the remaining troopers were relentless but limited by the small space. So, the Bad Batch had the advantage and gained the upper hand quickly. The others distracted the remaining shinies, drawing their attention.

After a couple more moment, Hunter had taken care of two more shinies, as their limp bodies dropped to the ground, vibroblade firm in his hand.

Echo and Wrecker dropped the other two remaining toppers with precise shots to the chest. Tech was still hunched behind Hunter, scrolling through the streams of data on his datapad.

One more trooper was left, firing at his squad. His blaster was trained at Echo, but before he could take the shot an energy bolt sizzled through the air, dropping him with a hit to the chest. Omega had gotten up from behind cover, bow still raised in defensive position.

“Thanks.” Echo said as he turned towards her in appreciation.

Hunter was about to relax when his senses flare up again. Moments later a second wave of imperial troopers stormed into the cockpit. They must have noticed the firefight and have been called in for reinforcements. The firefight erupted again as the troopers took cover in the cockpit. They weren’t caught off guard, which made it harder to take them down.

But at least they didn’t have to worry about making it look pretty this time around. They already had three unmarked sets of armor.

But the imperial troops were no match for the Batch, falling one by one. Before the last one dropped, a blaster bolt sizzled through the air straight through Wreckers shoulder. He grunted as he clutched it with his other hand.

“M’fine.” Wrecker grunted.

Tech was still limping as he headed for Wrecker, but his leg looked a lot better now. He was at least able to put some weight on it again.

They had a second to relax a bit.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Tech cut in as he inspected the wound. “Looks like surface damage, you should be alright. But don’t overwork it.” He warned.

Wrecker sighed.

Hunter turned towards Echo, who had closed the bulkhead door for more privacy hoping no more reinforcements would come. Hunter knew they would, but till then they had a small window to get ready.

But they didn’t have long. “Echo, swap armor,” Hunter ordered gesturing for one of the clones, he had taken out with the vibroblade. They’re armor wa still unscratched, or at least it only bore damage from previous battles.

Tech turned around already stripping his own armor off as well, so did Hunter. They didn’t have long before more troopers were to enter again. The rest of the platoon of imperial troops was probably still stationed outside, awaiting orders. There was no time for hesitation.

Hunter had stripped off his own and put on the white unmarked armor as fast as possible. It felt wrong, not just the fact that it used to belong to one of his brothers. No. That’s not what was bothering him. It was the fact that this armor was pure white, no marking, no customization. Nothing.

He noticed a flicker of green paint on the plastoid over his left gauntlet. The paint was stuck in some of the cracks and scratches.

In that moment he realized, these troopers weren’t shinies.

No. they had been part of a unit before, a battalion or legion. But someone made them strip off the paint.

The Empire didn’t just take their free will, but their individuality and identity too.

He looked up from the plastoid anger boiling inside him. But he couldn’t overreact, so he shoved the feeling back down.

Tech was finished putting on the troopers armor, specks of yellow paint visible. Remnants of who their brother used to be, that had refused to be erased. That trooper had probably been part of the 327th Star Corps by the looks of it. But he had no time to linger in thought, they could mourn their fallen brothers later.

He turned towards Echo. His brother seemed to be struggling to put on the armor over his left arm. After all Echo only had one working hand. The scomp link was useless for this task.

“Need some help?” Hunter asked.

Echo looked up embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

After having finished helping his squad mate, he put the corresponding helmet on, and the HUD flared to life.

Meanwhile Echo reached for his AJˆ6 cyborg construct and lay it down into one of the storage boxes next to Crosshair's old gear. It wouldn't fit underneath the phase II regulation helmet.

Wrecker had stored away the remaining Bad Batch’s armor that Echo, Tech and Hunter had stripped off. Hiding it in one of the supply crates in the corner. If one of the imperials was to find it, it would probably just come across as a remembrance of Wrecker and Omega’s fallen brothers. Or at least Hunter hoped, they’d fall for the lie.

“Alright, listen up,” Hunter began as he turned to the group cutting through the silence. “We’ll do as we had planned. No deviation, and no blowing things up.” He turned towards Wrecker.

In response, Wrecker let out a grunt.

“This is stealth, undercover. Let’s just hope this works. If not, we’ll switch to plan B,” he announced. “Echo, whenever you’re ready.”

Echo gave him a nod, before heading for the exhaust vent at the back of the crew deck. Tech had already helped open it up, so Echo just slipped out. His boots hit the hangar floor as he turned to look up towards them.

Hunter lowered the three fallen troopers through the exhaust vent and Echo placed them against some crates. He eased them down slowly even though they were already gone, but he was still careful not to injure them further.

Hopefully the Empire would find the three body’s, striped of their armor, long after the Bad Batch had made their escape. They were leaning against the crates solely in their blacks. It almost looked peaceful, besides from the wounds from where the vibroblade had torn through their skin.

But if another boarding crew was to enter the Marauder, at least they wouldn’t find the three brothers, like that. It would most certainly blow their cover.

Hunter gave him a nod, and his gaze lingered a second longer on Echo before his brother stormed off.

They sat in the crew deck waiting for something to go wrong. For Echo to be discovered. For the bulkhead door to hiss open. For troopers to rush in any second, for the plan to fall apart.

Tech still had the datapad clenched in his hands. He finally looked up.

“I’m picking up feed. Echo’s plugged in,” Tech kept scanning the data that flew across the screen. “Looks like we have to head for the main command bridge. Emergency protocol has been activated. Echo can’t deactivate the tractor beam from down here. I have to slice into the systems manually.”

Tech paused.

Hunter understood. But they had expected this, anticipated this outcome. They were ready. He gave Tech a nod before putting binders around Wreckers wrists. They had to make the prisoner transfer look convincing.

He turned to Omega, but he lingered a second, just looking at her. He didn’t wanna do this, this was to dangerous. But he knew that this was the only way.

Omega looked at him, really looked. Thankfully the helmet over his head hid his expression.

“It’s gonna be okay, Hunter. We’re gonna be fine. Don’t worry.” She said, trying to comfort him.

He sighed. “It’s just…I never wanted this for you. This life. I just want you to be—” He started voice shaky.

“I know. Someday we will.” She said with a smile on her face as she turned around so that Hunter could cuff her.

She was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He put on the restraints on just as the bulkhead door hissed open again. His senses were screaming at him now.

He turned around, weapon drawn to see five troopers in the doorway. This was it, either their cover be blown right now or this plan might actually work.

“We’ve restrained the two fugitives, Sir.” Tech announced.

The clone Lieutenant gave the other four a nod as he stepped into the crew deck. “Alright. Is that all of them? Just two?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir.” Hunter replied.

The Lieutenant stood in the entrance, eyes not leaving the two Bad Batch members in white armor. “What about the rest of your unit?” He asked before scanning the room, eyes darting from one fallen brother to the next.

“Dead, Sir.” Tech replied.

The Lieutenant didn’t say anything else. But his helmet tilted downwards, like he was grieving. He gave his other men a nod and moment later and they headed for Omega and Wrecker in response.

Out of habit Hunter walked towards the two and placed his body in between the troopers and Omega.

“Is there a problem?” One of the troopers asked.

Hunter swallowed hard. Kriff, how could he make that mistake. “No, no problem.” he replied voice steady. “Just don’t wanna hurt a kid.” He tried to explain himself. This had almost cost them their cover, it still might but he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

“Command wants them alive.” The clone Lieutenant explained, trying to ease Hunters mind.

His body relaxed as he stepped aside.

The Lieutenant stepped forward, gaze focused on Wrecker and Omaga.

“Impressive. Just two clones taking out both units all by themselves.” He said suspicion underlying his tone. The Lieutenant didn't by it.

Hunter paused as the Lieutenant’s eyes focused on him. He knew. Somehow he knew.

But to their luck, he didn’t act on it. He looked both Hunter than Tech up and down and left it at that. The Lieutenant gestured for them to follow behind him, so they did. No hesitation.

The group headed down the ramp and stepped onto the durasteel floor of the Venator’s hangar bay. The clone Lieutenant was leading them towards the giant hangar doors, his men stood at the ready. Blasters griped tightly.

Hunter was on high alert, he knew something was off. He knew the Lieutenant didn’t trust him and Tech, but he was unsure why the clone hadn’t acted on it. There must be something else going on.

They stepped into the narrow hallway, hangar doors closing behind them. Hunter scanned his surroundings, no other troops in sight. He gave Tech a nod, and in sync both raised their blasters after having switched it to stun. They dropped the four troopers instantly.

Then he pointed the DC-15S a at the Lieutenant. The clone didn’t even try to reach for his pistols—that hung on his hips—in their respected holsters. He just stared at Hunter.

Was it acceptance? Maybe.

Or maybe his chip had started acting up, he might not believe in the Empire anymore and not exposing them was his way to rebel against the system? Or it could be something completely different?

Hunter couldn’t be sure. But he also had no time to hesitate further, he pulled the trigger a second later. The blue ring of energy hit the Lieutenant square in the chest, and he dropped to the ground unconscious.

Tech had already freed Omega and Wrecker from the restraints and handed Wrecker a blaster from one of the unconscious troopers.

“Let’s go!” Hunter urged.

They started heading for the turbolift that lead to the main command bridge, when Hunter saw someone join their group another flash of with plastoid lingering at the edge of his vision. He turned his head slightly and saw the all the familiar scomp link poking out from underneath the withe plastoid armor.

“Anything?” Hunter questioned.

“Well, Tech was right. Can’t do anything from down here. I have mapped out the best way to the bridge. But…” Echo paused. “I also found a record. I think Gregor’s here.” He added.

Hunter came to a halt. The rest paused as well.

“You’re sure?” He asked, turning towards Echo.

“Positive. He’s being held in Cell R-14. Two levels up,” he announced. “Follow me.”

They didn’t hesitate. They headed for the closest turbolift.

Thankfully it was empty.

The doors of the lift hissed open again, revealing C-deck. Echo sprinted ahead, the rest of their squad right behind. Tech was still limping, but he was able to keep up with the rest.

Hunter was in the back covering their six. But fortunately, they only came across a couple of troopers on their way to the cell block. The stun blasts sizzled through the air, before the troopers could even react. They were taken off guard.

They arrived in front of the holding cell R-14 after couple minutes.

He could hear a voice inside. Cold, calculating.

Hunter held up his hand, signaling the others to hold position.

Hunter signaled Echo to head for the controls, and Wrecker and Omega to wait outside.

“What?” Wrecker asked quietly.

“You’re supposed to guard the door, signal us if you come across any trouble,” Tech replied annoyed. “How many times to I have to tell you to memorized the signals—”

Hunter cut him off. “Thanks, Tech,” He said. “But that’s not helping.”

He was so done with their bickering. Thankfully, both of them shut up after that.

Echo plugged into the port with his scomp link and gave them a nod. A second later the door hissed open, revealing who was inside.

Inside the cell was a man who looked to be one of the doctors. An RA-7 protocol droid was standing in the corner, holding onto a tray. The doctor was examining a clone who was strapped to a chair.

“Talk clone!” He demanded with a serious tone.

He turned around as Tech, Hunter and Echo entered the room. Wrecker and Omega stayed out of sight, for now. The doctor turned towards the three of them. “I specifically ordered you to stay outside. Or did I not?”

Right, they were still wearing the imperial troopers' armor. Echo hid his scomp link fast.

When they didn’t respond, the doctor turned his gaze back towards Gregor. His brother looked awful, but he was alive that was all that counted. The Doctor proceeded to inject something into the clone’s neck. Gregor’s body went limp as the stimulant knocked him out cold.

Echo took a step forward in protest.

“So, this is how it’ll be?” The doctor said, as he turned his back towards the collapsed clone. “You’re disobedience is not appreciated by the Empire, I suggest you rethink your position trooper, or you’ll be decommissioned!”

Echo stopped cold, swallowing hard.

They were decommissioning his brothers just because they didn’t follow every order? This wasn’t right, they had to do something. But unfortunately, there was nothing they could do about it now. They had other issues to deal with.

Hunter, well Echo at least believed it to be Hunter, must have had enough because he stunned the doctor. The man crumble to the ground unconscious.

Echo and Tech headed towards Gregor to released him from his binders. “He’ll be unconscious for a while.” Tech examined, as he took off Gregor’s binders.

Hunter gestured for the other two members of their squad that still lingered outside the cell. “Wrecker pick him up. You and Omega head for the Marauder and wait for our signal by the hangar doors. Do not enter before we give you the signal. Understood?” Hunter ordered.

“Yes, Hunter.” Omega replied sounding a little disappointed.

“If we don’t make it back within the hour, find a different ship and get out of here, you hear me?” Hunter added.

Echo didn’t wanna have to think about it, but he had to consider the possibility that not all of them were gonna make it. And Hunter was aware of that.

“The rest of us will be heading for the bridge, with any luck we’ll be out of here without any more complications,” Hunter said. “Echo, could you find any intel on Rex?”

Echo shook his head. He could only find logs on Gregor. Either Rex was still hiding on Lothal, or the Empire transferred him somewhere else. Or he’s —

Echo didn’t allow himself to finish that thought.

He scanned the cell again, for anything useful when his gaze landed on the RA-7 protocol droid that stood in the corner unmoving, tray in its hands. He got out his blaster and fired. The droid didn’t flinch before hit the durasteel with a loud thud. The tray slid across the floor, as the instruments scattered across the cell.

He stared at the droids metallic hand and then at his scomp link. It wouldn’t hurt to try. It was the right size.

He crouched down next to the droid and worked to detach it’s right hand. It came loose after a couple seconds. He held the black metallic hand up before attaching it to his scomp link. It clicked in place.

It felt strange. Echo tried moving the metallic fingers and the hand responded. It wasn’t perfect, but it got the job done. At least it wouldn’t stand out as much anymore.

He turned towards the others. Wrecker and Omega were already gone, they had taken Gregor with them. Gregor had still been unconscious as Wrecker flung him over his shoulder. His squad mate had winced but had moved on. The wound from where he got hit earlier was probably still hurting, but it wasn’t gonna stop Wrecker.

Hunter’s gaze shifted to Echo’s right arm, where he had attached the droids hand.

“Looks good.” Hunter commented.

His brother was still wearing the white helmet, but he could hear the amusement in his voice even though the vocoder.

“Thanks.” Echo responded.

The three of them headed for the turbolift on the opposite side of C-deck. The venator had two bridges and the turbolift Wrecker and Omega took down to the main hangar, would lead them to the left bridge. The wrong one.

After a couple minutes of walking, they reached the turbolift that ascended to the main bridge, the one with the controls to deactivate the tractor beam that kept the Marauder grounded.

The door to the turbolift slid open and the three of them entered. They ascended a couple levels before the lift stopped, and the doors opened again. About half a squad of imperial troopers got on and the doors closed again.

The lift moved to slow for Echo’s liking.

One of the troopers stared at Echo’s right hand for a second too long before turning around and standing at attention next to the other troopers. Echo tried to shield his right hand from their eyes, but the one trooper had already noticed that something looked off about it.

While it was better than the obvious sight of the scomp link sticking out, the metallic fingers still looked unnatural and reflected the light in a way only metal did. It didn’t look like a human hand, or a regulation glove covering an organic hand. That same trooper turned around again, his gaze flickering back to Echo’s right arm.

He was standing right in front of Echo, close enough to make out the details.

Echo swallowed hard. Great, this was how he blew their cover, really?

From a distance it would have probably been fine. They couldn’t have noticed something was wrong but with less than a meter in between them, it was a lot harder not to notice the metallic shine.

“What happened with that trooper?” One of the imperial troopers asked, pointing at Echo’s right arm.

Sithspit. How was he gonna get himself out of this one without compromising the mission?

He didn’t feel like explain himself, but he knew it just be easier to come up with something. At least that way it wouldn’t look suspicious.

He sighed. “Let’s just say, I should have checked my back. The Jedi got me from behind, during the purge.” That was the best thing he could come up with. He was getting worse at lying, Fives must have really rubbed off on him.

What was he even saying?

He could see someone facepalming beside him, subtle enough to pass as a casual movement. But Echo knew what it was supposed to be. It was probably Tech, but he couldn’t be sure.

Didn’t blame him either. That was the stupidest excuse he’d ever come up with.

But I must have been good enough of an explanation for the trooper, because he let it slide. Somehow.

“Well, that sounds painful—” Another clone started as the door in front of them opened and the unit exited the turbolift again.

“Really, that was your cover story?” Tech mocked him after the door had closed behind the troopers, tilting his head. Echo couldn’t see his face, but he knew Tech was giving him a look.

The lift ascended further up the tower.

“I panicked, alight?”

“You come up with one next time.” He added, there was bite in his voice this time.

Hunter turned around. “Hey, would the two of you please stop arguing. We have other things to worry about.” Hunter pleaded.

The both of them shut up instantly. Hunter was right, this wasn’t the right time.

The turbolift came to a hold and the doors opened in front of them. The three of them stepped into the empty hallway.

They paused.

In front of them was the door that would lead them onto the main command bridge.

“This is a really bad idea, Hunter.” Tech pointed out.

Nobody said anything to that. They didn’t have to.

Echo agreed, but he also knew that if they were to leave on the Marauder they had to do this. They’ve came to far to turn back now. The Havoc Marauder was their home, and they weren’t gonna leave it behind.

The three of them headed for the main doors. They opened up with a hiss.

Echo could see at least two dozen men occupying the bridge, this was gonna be harder than they had hoped.

Most of the men seemed to be unarmed, they were probably deck officers. The clones were sitting in front of the many control panels and stations spread across the giant room. He could see two Imperial officers and a clone Captain arguing. It looked intense.

He shifted his focus back towards one of the main dashboards lined up in front of the giant transparisteel viewport. The space beyond it looked so peaceful, so vast. He could have stared out into deep space for hours, if there weren’t any more pressing matters at hand.

The three of them headed for the dashboard. They paused in front of it. Tech plugged in his datapad. Hunter and Echo acted as a shield, standing in front of Tech. They tried to make it look as casual as possible while Tech worked to slice into the controls.

Echo decided to focus on the group of three across the room. They were still arguing. The clone Captain had his helmet clipped to his belt. He looked defeated.

“The two prisoners we have captured, never arrived on C-deck, Sir. The guards couldn’t find them in any of the cells. They must have escaped.” The clone Captain tried to explain. He sounded nervous.

“Well, I guess for your sake, it is better if you find them. Clone Force 99 are tougher than they look, make sure you capture them,” one of the Imperial Officers ordered. “And Captain, I have a feeling that it’s more than just those two, the rest of their squad must be somewhere on this vessel. Find them and bring them back alive.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.” The Captain responded.

They knew that his squad was still alive, that he was alive, not just Omega and Wrecker. After all it had only been a matter of time, they had expected it. But it still felt like a punch to the gut all the same.

The air on the bridge grew heavier the moment the doors slid open. The Captain was just about to leave, when he stopped in his tracks, back straightening.

Echo glanced around the room and saw that everyone on deck had done the same. Everyone had turned to face the door, backs straight.

Echo felt someone nudging him in the side. It was most likely Hunter who also stood at attention, trying not to look suspicious. Tech had quickly unplugged his datapad from the dashboard the moment the doors had opened, straightening his back as well.

Echo did so too a second later. His back was hurting, he hadn’t stood at attention in a while. He presumed he might have hurt himself, back on the Marauder when they had jumped into hyperspace a couple days ago. Maybe it wasn’t just the light concussion after all.

Hunter, Tech and him were now standing in a straight line in front of the dashboard holding their breaths. Trying not to look suspicious.

Echo caught sight of the figure stepping through.

He froze.

“Senior Commander on deck!” One of the clone officers barked.

Echo didn’t recognize the armor design it was unlike anything he had ever seen in the Empire so far.

The Commander stood tall by the entrance, his left-hand hovering over his holster. He wore uniquely customized Phase II clone trooper armor. The armor didn’t retain the standard white plastoid base, but it was anthracite instead. The navy-blue and crimson markings all across his armor made him look intimidating. He stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of white plastoid and olive-green suits of the deck officers.

The Senior Commander moved with rigid, silent precision towards the Clone Captain.

The first thing Echo noticed was the Senior Commander’s helmet, the central fin was painted solid crimson, flanked by two parallel navy-blue strips that ran from the visor up over the dome; it reminded Echo of his old helmet design when he was still part of the 501st.

The helmets shape was the typical edition of clone Senior Commander’s, with a crimson visor slit. The crimson and navy-blue accents highlighted the helmet’s structure matching the rest of his armor perfectly.

His chest plate had a crimson Imperial crest on it, right above the heart. The second crimson imperial insignia was placed on the upper right shoulder plate. He wore them with pride, almost like a badge of unwavering loyalty to the Empire.

Blue markings went down the side of his chest plate, a symmetrical pattern of lines. A navy-blue dot highlighted the sharp edges of the two lines. It enforced the cold, uncaring and harsh presence that was radiating off the Commander.

The pauldron was also navy-blue and resided on the Senior Commander’s left shoulder, signifying his rank in the army. It made him look even more imposing; someone untouchable.

The kama was a similar shade of anthracite, and matched the rest of his armor design, with two bold navy-blue stripes running diagonally down the fabric. The holsters for the Commander’s DC-17S on his hips where held in place by red straps, crisscrossing in front of his hips.

Navy-blue and crimson markings highlighted the dark anthracite on his legs and boots as well. His shin guards were crimson contrasting the dark base color of the armor.

Echo swallowed hard.

The Senior Commander stepped forward, eyes darting across the room. Now that he stood closer to Echo, he could see a blue dot dead and center above the Commander’s visor. No. Not a dot, it looked more like a teardrop than a dot upon closer inspection.

The Commander raised his right hand signaling one of the officers, who went straight back to work. Everyone else stood at attention. Still, unmoving without making a sound. Trying not to draw attention to themselves.

Now that the Commander had raised his right arm, Echo could see aurebesh lettering that spelled out ‘For The Empire’ in mat black. It contrasted against the red base of the plastoid along the length of the bracer. Another visible batch of loyalty to the Empire.

The whole armor design made him look menacing. It was like a warning.

Echo quite liked the design regardless of how it made him feel; like he was drowning. Suffocating even, in guilt he couldn't place.

The armor design was unique and most definitely did its job. Because Echo could see that some of the clones were holding their breath; they were scared. Afraid even. Of him, whoever he was.

Shivers ran down Echo’s spine. Something about this trooper felt off, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

The Commander finally spoke. “I heard there were complications with the transfer of the fugitives, is that correct Captain Viper?” His voice was rough, and his tone was determined and cold.

“Sir, yes, Sir!” The clone Captain responded, confidently.

But Echo could hear it was only a façade, the Captain was most likely terrified. He knows he messed up, almost like he knew what was coming, like Viper’s seen it before.

“I had send my men to check on CC-5576-39 but he is not in his cell. They found the doctor unconscious, there were no guards stationed outside the cell, how come?” The Senior Commander continued, he didn’t sound pleased.

“I—I don’t know, Sir. I had dispatched some guards earlier. I was about to send a squad to check—” The clone Captain started trying to defend himself.

But the Commander's left hand reached for the holster on his left hip. He raised his pistol and executed the Captain a second later without flinching. The shot tore right through the Captains skull.

His body went limp instantly and he hit the ground with a loud thud.

Captain Viper’s helmet detached from his belt, as the body hit the ground. It rolled across the ground and came to a halt a couple meters to the left.

The Commander had perfect aim, made a quick end to it, no struggle. Nothing. One second the Captain was standing, the next he lay motionless on the ground.

Echo swallowed hard.

This man was not allowing any kind of mistakes, that was for sure.

“The Empire doesn’t take failure lightly,” the Commander said as he turned towards a different trooper. “Sergeant Sparks, take a squad and find Clone Force 99, immediately. Don’t disappoint me.” He ordered with determination.

His voice was ice cold, laced without any resemblance of emotion.

Echo was in shock, the Senior Commander hadn’t hesitated or flinched when he had pulled the trigger, almost like whoever was behind that mask wasn’t even human. Like the Commander hadn't even cared for what he'd done. Like it meant nothing to him.

“Get back to work men,” He ordered, before he turned to face Echo, Hunter, and Tech. All three of them stood at attention in front of the dashboard. They hadn’t moved since the Commander had entered.

“You two dispose of the body.” He gestured towards Echo and whoever was to the left of him. This wasn’t good. They couldn’t disobey the Senior Commander especially since they’ve seen what lengths he would go to assure the Empires success.

“Let’s go. He’ll be fine” He could hear a whisper next to him. Judging by the voice it was most likely Hunter, who had been assigned to the task as well. But Echo wasn’t certain.

They moved towards the body, which lay motionless on the ground. Echo grabbed Viper by the shoulders, and the other clone grabbed his legs. The Commander was watching them closely, his eyes scanning Echo and Hunter, almost like he knew something was different about them both.

They had to carry their fallen brother right past him.

As Echo walked past the Commander, the shivers intensified. There was certainly something off about this brother, but he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. How could he just execute a brother, without hesitation? Maybe the Senior Commander wasn’t even a brother to begin with?

But he sounded like one, kinda.

His voice was hoarse and clipped, almost like it hurt to speak to loud. But the tone it was slightly off, he didn’t sound like a reg, not completely. Like someone had torn out his vocal cords and reattached them all wrong.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. They had a different objective, he could worry about one of the Empire’s pawns later.

As they excited through the door into the hallway he could hear the Commanders voice again “Prepare my shuttle! I’m headed back for Coruscant at 0900 hours.” He demanded.

The door hissed closed behind them, shutting out all noise.

They weren’t exactly sure where to bring the body to, so they headed for the closest medbay a couple levels below and left Captain Viper with the doctors.

Echo and Hunter stood above the body for a second.

"Shev'la darasuum, vod." Hunter said putting his hand on Viper's shoulder, head bowed in quiet respect.

'Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.' Echo thought, before Hunter and him headed back out into the hallway.

If Echo remembers correctly, Viper had been part of the 444th. General Pong Krell’s Battalion. Rex had told Echo a little about Umbara, once Echo was rescued from Skako Minor.

But Rex didn’t get very far into the story before he had stopped, Echo could see the look in Rex’s eyes. So, he didn’t push, Rex would tell him eventually what had gone down, once he was ready to talk about it. All Echo knew was that Krell had been a traitor, and the campaign had been a horror show.

Echo felt bad for the clones under Krell’s command, from what Rex had told him, Krell only thought of the clones as tools, not living beings. That though disgusted him.

And now Captain Viper was dead, after having gone through all that. Executed by a brother; most likely. Echo was still not certain if the Senior Commander was a brother, he didn’t wanna believe it. Because who could to that to one of their own?

Hunter and him headed back for the turbolift as they descended down towards the level the hanger doors were on. Now they had to search for Wrecker, Omega, and Gregor.

Echo hoped Tech would be able to slice into the systems to deactivate the tractor beam that kept them grounded, without being discovered. The chances were slim.

Hunter and him turned the corner. Echo almost got knocked out by a giant fist, but he was able to duck under it just in time. He reached for his blaster a second later but paused as he saw who it was.

“Wrecker it’s us!” Hunter yelled as he pulled Echo back.

“Sorry, I thought you were another one of those patrols they sent after us. You can never be careful enough.” Wrecker defended.

Echo didn’t blame him. For once Wreckers logic did make sense.

“Where’s Tech?” Omega asked concerned as she scanned the two troopers in white shiny armor.

“We got separated.” Echo explained.

“You left him behind,” she accused. “We got to help him.”

“No, we had no other choice. He’ll be fine, Omega. It’s Tech he’ll figure something out.” Hunter tried to calm her.

She nodded once in understanding, but the look of concern didn’t disappear off her face, it only intensified.

Three troopers turned the corner a second later. Echo stunned two of them and Wrecker the third. Time was running out. They had to move.

Echo could hear groaning behind him, as he turned around he could see Gregor regaining consciousness. Gregor’s back was propped up against the wall, he rubbed his head with his right hand as he tried to blink the dizziness away.

“W—where am I?” He questioned looking at Omega confused.

“You’re save, Gregor. We’re getting you out of here.” She responded.

Gregor nodded in approval before turning his head towards Echo. He froze.

Right, Hunter and him were still wearing their helmets, they looked like any other imperial trooper.

Gregor reached for his pistol that wasn’t there. He was unarmed.

“Hey, calm down. They’re with us,” Omega tried to calm him.

Echo whispered, so that only Gregor could hear. “It’s me, Echo. Hunter’s the other one. Tech’s still up on the bridge, we'll catch you up on the details later.”

Gregor looked confused, but he nodded in acceptance.

His body physical relaxed as he slummed back against the wall as his gaze fixed back on Omega. “Sorry, kid. I’m still kind of out of it, I guess.” He defended, huffing a laugh.

“No problem,” Hunter replied. “But would you mind us asking a question?” Hunter started, he sounded worried.

“Shot.” Gregor replied with a smirk on his face. It didn’t last long.

“Do you know where Rex is? Did he get captured too?” Hunter continued, sounding concerned.

Gregor shifted his gaze and looked at the ground, deep in thought.

Then, “Yeah, I believe so. They loaded me on a shuttle that was headed towards this Venator. I could overhear some troopers talking about transporting Rex to an imperial facility. I think he's still on Lothal,” Gregor described. “They were taking him to one of the Empires officials for interrogation, I think. He might still be alive,” He paused.

But judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t so certain. Rex might not have made it and that thought hurt more than any physical pain ever could. The ache in Echo's back was dull in comparison to the gaping hole that started to form in his chest. He didn't wanna lose Rex too, he wasn't sure if he could take another loss.

After a long pause, Gregor spoke again. “Thanks for saving me,” his eyes darting around looking at the four of them. “For the second time.” He added, with a little amusement.

“Well, we haven’t saved you yet.” Hunter pointed out

He was right they couldn’t get too overconfident. Echo shifted his attention, he could hear blaster fire and feet shuffling over the ground.

The blaster fire intensified with ever second that passed, whoever it was, was headed straight for them.

A trooper was sprinting around the corner clenching onto a datapad. “Run!” He shouted.

The trooper was limping slightly, as he supported his left thigh with his empty hand. There was no doubt in Echo’s mind that it had to be Tech. Of course, they had been discovered, that should not have come as a surprise to him.

All of them got moving a second later.

Gregor was still pretty shaky on his feet, so Wrecker flung him over his shoulder again. To Echo’s surprise Gregor didn’t complain, he must be feeling awful, Echo concluded.

They sprinted towards the giant hangar doors as Tech caught up with them. They entered and thankfully the Havoc Marauder was still where it had landed earlier.

“We have approximately two more minutes, before they can reactivate the tractor beam to keep us grounded again.” Tech informed them.

Two minutes wasn’t much but they could make do with less, at least Echo hoped so.

What remained of the platoon of troopers that had surrounded the Marauder not too long ago had disappeared. They probably went back to whatever they had been doing before the Bad Batch arrived. Only a handful of troopers were guarding their ship now.

The group stunned them before the troopers could even react.

They ran up the ramp and into the Marauder. A blaster bolt flew right past Echo’s head. As he turned around he could see the troopers that had chased them. He returned fire. They were not far behind. It was about a squad worth of clones.

Echo was the last one to get on board. He closed the hatch behind him as Wrecker lowered Gregor onto a chair. Blaster bolts scorched the outside of the Marauder.

The hatch made an awful screaking sound. The explosion earlier had probably damaged the hinges. Echo just hoped it remained intact, or they would all suffocate in the vacuum of space, and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to that.

The engines started roaring as the Marauder lifted of the ground.

“I transferred the commands for opening the air lock to this datapad.” Tech explained as he pressed a button. The shields, separating the main hanger and the area underneath the air lock, went up immediately, as the giant hanger gate yawned open above them.

“Now or never!” Hunter urged.

Tech maneuvered the Marauder out of the hanger and into space. “We’re heading for the surface. From the intel I could gather on the bridge, Rex is being held in the capital.” Tech informed.

They had suspected he’d be on Lothal, but they hadn’t been sure about the exact location. This was at least a little reassuring, and it meant that the Captain might still be alive. And now they knew where to search. Echo wouldn't stop until Rex was back with them, no matter how long it took.

The Havoc Marauder was headed towards the surface of Lothal, but they were still in range of the venators.

But something felt wrong.

They Empire hadn’t sent any reinforcements to cut the Bad Batch off and the venators weren’t firing at their ship. Echo couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be a trap. Things had gone way to smoothly, which was never a good sign.

He glanced at Hunter, who had also taken off his helmet. He could see it in the Sergeant’s eyes, Hunter likely thought the same. After all his brother had enhanced senses.

Tech told them to relax for a bit, before they reach the capital, so Echo headed for one of the nav chairs. Thankfully the imperials had cleared the crew deck and taken their fallen brothers and the civvies’ bodies with them. The only thing that was left behind was a lone blaster on the ground.

Echo reached for the storage box, pulled his AJˆ6 cyborg construct back out and slid it over his ears.

He sat down and got thinking again. His thoughts wandering back to the interaction on the bridge, to the Senior Commander.

Echo couldn’t explain it, but something had felt almost familiar about him. He tried to think back. He tried to remember the armor design. It didn’t look like standard issue.

Yes, it was Phase II clone armor; Senior Commander’s rank but the anthracite color and the markings where so different from what he had seen over the years. He didn’t know of any other imperials than Crosshair and his squad of elite troopers, that had a different base color than the standard white.

Which couldn’t mean anything good.

The Commander had to be special, Echo thought. Different even. But who was he?

Echo couldn’t rap his mind around what it was that made him dwell on it. But it almost felt like he knew the clone behind the mask. Or at least had known him at some point in his life. Like a ghost of his past, that came back to haunt him.

So, I actually decided to create a character sketch of the Senior Commander that was introduced in this chapter.

This look me forever btw.

It was literally my first project on Procreate but I think I am finally happy with how it turned out.

Let me know what you think ;)

credtis: AnLuEli (myself)

Chapter Text

He strode down the halls, back straight, eyes forward. The troopers stopped cold when he past them, saluting. He was headed for the transport in the main hanger, that would take him to Coruscant, he hadn’t been there in months.

He didn’t remember taking the turbolift down, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Back on the bridge, those three troopers in shiny armor. They looked tense, tenser than they should have been. Something had been off about them. He didn’t trust it.

That’s why he had ordered two of them to take care of the Captain’s body in the first place. To see their reactions. To test them. Both troopers had shared a glance, than obeyed. Good. Still, something was nagging at him. As they had passed him he saw one of the two looking up at him through his dark visor. Not with fear or respect exactly, not like the others did. But it was something different.

Recognition?

It didn’t make sense. How was the shiny supposed to know who he was if he didn’t even know it himself? He didn’t really have a past. No that’s not entirely true. He did, same as everyone else. But he couldn’t remember most of it. Just bits and pieces. Flashes of a life he doesn’t remember ever being a part of.

He snapped back to reality as he closed in on the hanger, focusing back on the present. Not now, not here, he told himself.

He had already wasted enough time filing the karking reports after he left the main command bridge. That’s the annoying part of being an officer. The reports never stopped coming.

The Lambda-Class T-4a Shuttle sat in the left back corner of the hanger bay. It was already packed with imperial troopers.

“Great.” He muttered under his breath. Another long flight on a packed ship, exactly what he’d been looking forward to. You’d think once you become Senior Commander you’d get your own private escort.

No. Still stuck with the rest of the cannon fodder.

He got on and headed straight for the cockpit. He wasn’t about to spend the entire ride back in the troop bay with the infantry line troopers. Not if he could help it.

The pilot was already punching in the coordinates for the Coruscant. “Hey, Commander,” he announced cheerfully. “Just on time, gonna take us a while till we get there.” He paused, then added. “I’m Buster, by the way.”

The Senior Commander ignored the second part. Names were irrelevant.

“Great, you better get me there on time.” He warned.

“Will do, Sir.” Buster responded before turning back to the controls.

The landing gear retracked as the ship headed out through the main hanger gate above them. Through the transparisteel viewport he could spot the fugitives ship below, still where it had been grounded. As expected.

The main gate yawned closed behind him, as Buster initiated the jump sequence after he ran a systems check. “Commander,” he started. “I got everything under control. You can head back to the troop bay.”

But he didn’t respond. Not at first. He stayed where he stood, ignoring Buster all together. He’d leave once he felt like it. The Senior Commander looked out through the forward viewport at the endless stars stretching out in front of them.

The dashboard lit up with an incoming transmission.

“Sir, Clone Force 99 has escaped with CC-5576-39. Awaiting your orders.” The comms officer announced.

The Commander didn’t have to think long.

“They’re headed for the surface?”

“Yessir,” the officer responded. “Should we open fire?”

He paused, turning it over in his head. He could end it here and now save the Empire the trouble.

“No, let them.” He responded. “For now.”

“We’ll do, Sir.”

The channel cut. And the Commander smiled to himself under his bucket, all is going according to plan. Let clone Force 99 have their victories. They had no idea what was coming.

Buster initiated the jump after the channel cut.

Eventually the Commander turned and headed through the bulkhead door into the troop bay that was swarming with men. Most of them clones, others weren’t. Civilian recruits in their ugly new armor.

He hated the new design, it lacked the sharp and cold edge of the phase I and II clone regulation armor. The recruits armor was more rounded, they didn’t look intimidating, they looked like a joke.

Good, because he couldn’t take them seriously anyway.

He didn’t understand why the Empire even bothered with recruits, but apparently that’s how the Empire ran things now. He didn’t know it any other way. There was nothing before the explosion…That’s the first thing he remembered when he woke up in the Grand Republic Medical Facility on Coruscant.

Before the purge. They’ve changed the name by now. The Republic was no more.

He remembered the pain, like it was edged into every never of his body, still. The way he couldn’t feel his right side when he first woke. The taste of copper—the smell of burned skin and way to much antiseptic in the air—had been the worst though.

Like his body had gone up in flames.

It probably had, judging by the blisters and callused skin all along the right side of his body. He woke up, under sterile lights. Wrapped in dressings and bandages. With a mangled right hand. Just the thumb, pointer and middle finger left, the other two had already been gone when he woke. Seared clean off. Might have happened during the blast, or after. Hard to tell. He woke up like that, no memory of what came before.

Apparently Emperor Palpatine had overlooked the Commander’s treatment himself. Had ordered synthetic skin grafts that were now fused to the burned tissue, replacing parts of it. Along his right hip, thigh and part of that side, where the tissue had been severely damaged. The two missing fingers were replaced with prosthetics that were strapped to his hand like a permanent glove.

He could move them just fine, but they lagged a little when the temperate drooped. Cybernetic joints freezing up. They didn’t fell natural, not like his. Like a part of his body remembers how his organic fingers had felt, even if his mind forgot.

His right shoulder didn’t look any better, it had taken the worst of the heat. Melted skin, that had to be replaced with synthetic skin grafts. His right side looked like a patchwork of a man, the burns ran all the way up his neck and the right side of his face ending just underneath his hairline that had been pushed back by the burns.

The Commander lost his sight in that eye, woke up half blind, remembering nothing. Not even his name, not like he ever had one. The doctors caught him up on the necessary stuff—fuel tanks, the explosion—he’d gone down hard. That’s it.

He hadn’t asked specifics, that wasn’t his place. Not like he didn’t wanna know more about what happened, he did. Why he couldn’t remember his past life? Why the tanks had exploded in the first place? Why he was there when they did?

But asking questions, undermining authority. Those are the things they had conditioned out of him quickly. “CC-1467. You will comply.”

CC-1467 that’s his designation. That's who he is. Who he’s been for as long as he could remember.

His brain couldn’t come up with an explanation for any of the questions that he wasn’t supposed to voice out loud. So now he just sat there in the troop bay, helmet on, rolling his sore shoulder. Thinking.

One of the troopers offered him a ration bar, but he declined.

He wasn’t hungry, he never was these days.

His fingers, the prosthetic ones, kept looking up recently. He meant to let one of the technicians check them over, but he just couldn’t find the time. He was to karking busy. He had a lot on his hands, no matter how banged up he was. He was a Senior Commander after all and that meant he had more important things to deal with than two of this fingers, not responding correctly. He’d manage.

He had men to lead, reports to file, orders to give. That’s how it worked, for as long as he could remember. Which only stretches back about eleven months, something around that timeframe.

Before that, before the explosion that almost took his life? Nothing. Nothing solid to go off of. Well, there were some things that came to him in dreams. Moments. Flickers of a life he didn’t remember, names he couldn’t place, faces that looked all too familiar. Planets that he’d never seen but somehow knew exactly how the looked or smelled like.

It was his brain telling him that there was something before the explosion, before the Empire. But that didn’t matter now, none of it did. He was here now.

“Leave the past in the past.” One of the doctors had told him back then.

The Republic had fallen, and he was reporting directly to the Emperor himself, he couldn’t dwell on things like that. Things that threatened to break his focus. He couldn’t afford to.

He wasn’t anyone really, just another one of the regs. A clone, wearing the same face as millions of others. Yeah, they might not have burns all over the right side of their body or carry the same rank. But they’re still his brothers. Still one and the same.

Created for the purpose of fighting a war, a war he couldn’t remember.

Stars. Why couldn’t he remember?

A voice cut through his thoughts. “Sir, you have a transmission from the Emperor, he’s been awaiting you.”

The Commander nodded once, then got up and headed for the other bulkhead door.

It was nothing fancy, just a modified storage locker with a small holo table crammed in the corner. But it was a private space. The room was dimly lit, shadows casting over the walls and storage racks. The blue light that indicated an incoming call flashed rapidly on the console. He took a deep breath before answering the transmission.

He got down on one knee. His right side—where his skin fused with the cybernetics—screamed at him in protest, but he ignored it. Like always.

He didn’t look up when he spoke, he knew who it was. “Emperor,” the Senior Commander began. “I have overseen the blockade over Lothal. My men had taken CC-5576-39 and CT-7567 hostage as well as the surviving members of Clone Force 99—”

“I heard. I was informed that CC-5576-39 and Clone force 99 got away,” The Emperor paused. “Is that correct CC-1467?” Palpatine asked, voiced sharp and ice cold.

“Yessir,” CC-1467 responded, voice steady. “Captain Viper let them escape, he was punished accordingly. I have the situation under control. We’re tracking their ship as we speak.”

“Good. Good. You’ve done well Commander,” the Emperor replied. “Now…I have a mission for you. A couple of rogue Force-sensitives have been reported to be seen near the old Jedi Enclave on Dantoonie, in the Expansion Region. You are to seek them out and neutralize these insurgence.”

A smile crossed Palpatine’s face before he added. “Alone.”

CC-1467 didn’t look up when answering. “It will be done, my lord.” He responded before rising, head still bowed.

“Good. I expect you won’t disappoint me, Commander.” The Emperor replied, before his hologram dissolved.

The Senior Commander let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The Emperor hadn’t asked details. He trusted CC-1467 to have it under control, even if things didn’t go as planned.

This wasn’t the first time CC-1467 had been send on a mission like this one—he’d fought Jedi before—held his own fairly well. But he always had back up. Not this time.

He knew this was some kind punishment, even if the Emperor didn’t say it. The Commander knew better, he had screwed up and these were the consequences.

He exited the storage locker, head held high with false confidence. The other troopers couldn’t see him faulter, because that meant weakness and he couldn’t let them see it. The Senior Commander had a reputation to keep.

He was their superior, one of the highest-ranking clones in the imperial army, they respected him, even feared him. They couldn’t know about the storm inside his own mind. He wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he headed for the cockpit again where Buster still sat in the pilot’s chair, staring out into space. Hands on the controls. The pilot turned around with a grin on his face. His helmet on the floor next to him.

“Isn’t it beautiful? The glow of the hyperspace lanes flashing by?” He asked.

The Commander shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not why I am here”

Buster sat straighter at that. “Alright, bring it on, Sir.”

“I gotta head for Dantoonie. Got a mission. Classified. Reroute us there.” He ordered, his tone left no room for arguments.

“Alright, will do, Sir. I’m setting course now.” The pilot said, as his fingers danced over the dashboard. “Any idea how long it will take?” Buster asked.

The Commander rolled his eyes. Arms crossed in front of his chest. “That is none of your business. Just drop me off, I already called in for a different evac transport. No need to wait up.” He said irritated.

Buster was still young, still had too much personality. “Alright, just asking.” The pilot said, turning back to the controls preparing the next micro jump for the Raioballo Sector.

The Commander headed back to the troop bay and took a seat in the far back again. Helmeted head in his hands as he sat in silence. This time he was left alone, no brother bothering him. Good.

It had been a couple days since the Emperor's transmission, and they were minutes away from dropping out of hyperspace above Dantoonie.

He was thankful they took one of the modified lambada-Class shuttles. It was faster than the standard model. He couldn’t stand another minute without taking off his bucket.

He wasn’t supposed to take it off, only to hydrate or eat. Which he barely did anyway. Not like he was missing out on anything.

He felt like he was suffocating, not just because he hadn’t breathed air that wasn’t filtered by his helmets ventilation system in days. Though he was running thin on that too. But because hated tight spaces, crowed ships. Something about them made him claustrophobic.

And he’s spent enough time on this one. He didn’t know what awaited him on the surface. But he’d probably prefer it over this. At least on Dantoonie he could breathe in fresh air.

As long as he didn’t come across any horned Kath hounds, it would feel like a vacation. He would rather take on one of the Force-sensitives than that creature. Because sentient beings were predictable, he liked that. Non-sentients were a whole different story.

He checked his gear one last time, before entering the short-range fighter that was attached to the lower-level maintenance hatch.

He gave his men a somewhat appreciative nod before he got in and steered his fighter towards the surface. He’d learned to steer some fighters a while back, he guessed. Though he didn’t remember. It was more like muscle memory. He didn’t question it. It was a useful skill.

He took his helmet off at last and wiped the sweat off his brow with his good arm, the left one. He hadn’t realized he was sweating so much. His dark curls were stuck to his forehead.

He probably looked like a mess of scars and burned tissue, with a crazy helmet-hair. His sides had grown out a little, and the top of his hair was slightly longer than he normally wore it.

He hadn’t shaved the sides or cut the top half in over three weeks. He couldn’t find the time. The stubble on his chin had also not been trimmed in a while. It was unkept, but he had other priorities. He wore his bucket most of the time anyway, so no one could tell.

His appearance was the least of his concerns right now, he had other priorities.

He was gonna have to live with this at least till his extraction team arrived, assuming he’d survive the encounter with the Jedi insurgence, that is. Or the hounds if it came to that. It was always a gamble.

His fighter touched down on the surface. The canopy opened and let in fresh unfiltered air. He could smell the dry grasslands. It wasn’t much to look at though. Just wasteland as far as the eye could see.

The Commander got up and jumped off his fighter, boots hitting the ground, helmet under one arm. He checked his gear, slammed a new power pack into his left pistol. Ready to move out.

He stared up at the giant Blba tree in front of him, it looked almost majestic. But he wasn’t here to marvel at the flora and fauna. He had a mission. The sooner he got it done, the sooner he could return to Coruscant.

So, he got moving. Left hand hovering over his holstered pistol, just in case. The coordinates to the old Jedi Enclave were displayed on his hand-held holo projector. He had landed clicks away from his destination, to ensure the insurgence didn’t see him coming.

It wasn’t his first time on the hunt. He knew by now what worked, and what didn’t.

CC-1467 walked for what felt like hours. When the sun dipped low over the horizon he came across the first settlement. Mostly Dantari by the looks of it. Some of the locals invited him to stay the night under the pergola in their courtyard. Handed him a blanket, and a warm cup of tea. not knowing who he was. Out here the news about the Empire hadn’t reached the people. Good, made this easier. Probably thought he was someone from the local militia.

But it was strange. Normally locals weren’t this inviting. But the war hadn’t reached this part of the galaxy, they had nothing to fear. The following morning, he woke up at the break of dawn. He thanked the family. Returned the blanket and empty mug and got moving again.

He asked the locals for directions. The Empire’s records of the Enclave had been off by clicks. If he’d known he would have landed closer.

By mid-day he arrived at the old Enclave. The ruins had been overgrown over the millennia, it had been abandoned for. But the Emperor was sure at least one survivor of the purge was hiding here.

His comm pinged once. The full mission log had just come in.

Text rolled across the screen off his datapad. Jedi Knight named Falon Grey had been hiding in the villages surrounding the Enclave. It was CC-1467’s job to neutralize him. One target. Easy enough.

The Commander scanned for any organic signatures around, but all that came back was static and heat signatures matching local wildlife in the area. His left hand hovered over his holster as he headed towards one of the nearby villages. It sat at the foot of the hill.

This settlement looked to be more advanced than the last. The buildings were made out of bricks and wood, shingles covering the rooftops.

He searched for hours. Asking around in local cantinas and around food markets. Nothing. He dug out the last of his credits and bought himself some food and a dark brown poncho. He sat down on a stone fountain, helmet resting next to him.

The poncho hid some of the armor. Making it less obvious that he didn’t fit in. But he wasn’t hiding either. Let them stare. It didn’t faze him. CC-1467 continued looking out over the square, watching the locals go about their day. Cataloging it in his mind.

Searching for any suspicious activity.

Eventually he got moving again, clipping his helmet to his utility belt. He walked across the square towards one of the side alleys. He passed a group of children playing with a round object. It rolled towards him and stopped at his feet. He stared at it. Then crouched down at picked it up as a young Togrutan girl ran up to him.

He looked between her and the object in his gloved hands. The child held out her hands and spoke in her native tung. He didn’t understand it, but reluctantly he returned the round object to her.

She smiled up at him, before accepting it. Then she sprinted again and returned to their game. He didn’t know what the point of it was. He stood there, watching the group of kids kicking the ball around. It must be a ball, he thought.

Yeah, now he remembered. He used to play with is brother’s too. Back on Tipoca when he was younger, still a cadet. A memory flashed before his eyes.

A group of young boys sprinting along the sterile white walls of Tipoca. Passing the ball between them. There was laughter. He was laughing, this younger version of himself he couldn’t remember. They looked happy, untroubled.

The memory dissolved and he was back in the square, watching small forms running around. Laughing. A smile tugged at his lip before he could stop it.

Then he snapped back. What was he doing? He had a mission.

So, he got walking again. But he caught himself turning his head back towards the children.

The young Togrutan girl stopped and waved at him. He returned the gesture, just a flick of the wrist. CC-1467 took a deep breath and forced himself forward. He caught his reflecting in a window. Hair still a mess. The stubble on his chin had grown out even more by now.

Kriff, he should probably put his helmet back on. But he thought about the filtered air again, and how the heat would well up under the dome. Yeah, no. He’ll pass. The Commander much rather look like some war veteran turned hermit.

He asked around a bit more. But no one seemed to have seen the man matching the description. Fallon Grey was a ghost. And ghost knew how to hide, to disappear.

But CC-1467 wasn’t leaving before finishing the objective.

He was about to call it for the night. The stars were already out, and the temperature had dropped significantly. Until one trader pointed him towards a back alley.

“Yeah, I know’em,” the farmer said. “Comes by every other day, always getting the same stuff. Weird guy, never talks much.”

The Commander nodded in appreciation and followed the lead. He stalked down the tight alley, eyes scanning. He had put his helmet on at last. Preparing himself for a confrontation.

Both DC-17S now in his hands, fingers on the trigger.

The back-alley lead to another small square. But this one was almost empty. Might just be the time of day. The sun had dipped behind the horizon.

But then he noticed. Some of the windows were boarded up, other houses looked almost abandoned. This was nothing like the square he had been in earlier.

The one where the children played. Where the parents had shared stories over tea.

This looked like a whole different part of the settlement.

In front of him stood a big apartment complex, just as run down as the rest of the space. One window on the third floor was illuminated by candlelight. CC-1467 scanned the square, still empty. When he looked back up, the room was still illuminated.

Might be nothing. Or it was exactly what he was looking for.

Nothing should have been suspicious about it. But what gauged at him was the fact that it was the only room that wasn’t dark in the entire square. Which was suspicious.

The Commander picked up his pace and headed for the front door. It was ajar, so he shoved it open with his good shoulder widening the gap. Both DC-17S still in his hands. He walked silently up the stairs. Boots making no sound on the old rotten steps.

When he arrived on the third floor, he moved slowly. Deliberately. Not leaving anything up to chance. His HUD picked up no heat signatures but his own. Odd. CC-1467 walked down the narrow hallway. Light’s flickering in and out above him.

He reached the door at the end of the hall. He scanned again. Nothing. He holstered his right pistol and reached for the small control pad. The door hissed open. Behind it was an empty room, the light was off. The Commander tried the switch. Nothing. Power was out. Explained the candlelight in the adjacent room. He kept walking, taking in the space. The bed wasn’t made. It looked like no one had slept in it for months. Probably even longer than that. Every surface was coded in a thick layer dust.

Even through his helmet filters, he could smell the foul stench.

He checked the neighboring rooms, making sure they were empty. He didn’t like surprises.

Then he turned towards the last door, the one where the candle had illuminated the tight space. He took a breath. Checked the charge on his pistol. Full. And pressed the button on the control pad.

But the door didn’t open. Not like the others. It was locked. Kriff.

The Commander holstered both his pistols and pried the control pad open, revealing the wiring. He wasn’t a slicer by any means, but he knew some useful tricks.

Why? He had no clue, just another mystery surrounding the enigma that was CC-1467. He didn’t question it. Maybe he had been a slicer before. Before the explosion, that almost took his life.

He focused back on the wiring. Not now. His existential crisis could wait.

The moment the door hissed open his fingers closed around the two pistols again. He took a breath, then entered the room just to find that the flame had been extinguished. Which meant someone else had been here.

The candle sat within a lantern. The flame would have been protected from the wind that rushed in through the open window. That's how he could tell that someone must have manually put out the flame.

The window. It had been closed, hadn’t it?

He was sure of it. He scanned the space. The refresher was empty, med supplies were spread across the floor like someone left in a hurry. The room had the same layout as the others he had searched, but this one looked lived in.

Less dust. A bag of food at on the dresser. Just some native vegetables.

He headed for the window and looked out at the empty square. The stars were out now. He scanned the building as he leaned out the window. Yeah, this was the correct room. The one that had been illuminated only minutes earlier.

The Commander was about to turn around when something caught his eye through the HUD. He could swear it had picked up a heat signature for a second. He lowered his scope and scanned the roofs.

And there it was. Undeniable. Someone was there.

He climbed out the window and planted his feet on the narrow ledge. He reached for the pipe that lead up to the roof hauling himself up.

His right shoulder screamed under the strain. The synth skin stretching uncomfortably. Once he made it to the top he sprawled back first on the roof two stories up. He should probably get moving. But he just lay there, feeling every ache.

CC-1467 took a deep breath before pushing himself upright. He got out his left DC-17S again, right hand empty just in case. The fingers on his right hand twitched. They always did when the adrenalin spiked. Phantom pain blossomed where the two prosthetic fingers were strapped to his hand. He shook it. Focus. The Senior Commander told himself.

He walked across the shingles, crouching low every so often. Taking cover behind chimneys. Eyes fixed on where he had picked up the heat signature on the neighboring roof. Once he got to the edge of the building he picked up speed and jumped from one building to the next. He landed in a role on the other roof.

The gap was narrow enough. Thankfully. Jumping buildings with a full pack, was no joke. His gear probably weight half his own bodyweight.

He continued on, scanning the space with his HUD. Nothing.

Then a shot stuck the chimney right next to his head. He crouched low again, and unholstered his right pistol as well. He calculated the trajectory and found a clocked figure standing on a terrace across the square.

They fired again, just barely missing his head.

He didn’t fire back.

Didn’t want to waste any shots. If this was Fallon Grey, than it be useless anyway. They were too far away to get a clean hit. And even if the shot was lined up perfectly, the Jedi might just use the Force to redirect the shot.

So instead, CC-1467 sprinted. He leaped from roof to roof, most of the buildings were no more than half a meter apart.

The figure in the distance had moved now too. The chase had begun.

The Commander ran, leaping over pipes and ducking under a clothing line on one of the rooftop gardens. Eventually the cloaked figure disappeared through an open hatch, heading downwards. The Commander followed.

He was closing in, picking up speed. He sprinted down the stairs taking three at a time.

When he stormed through the front door of that same building, he scanned the alley. He saw just the dark cloak as they headed around a corner. He didn’t wait and sprinted after them.

Eventually the figure slowed, turning to face the Commander. That’s when CC-1467 got a good look at the one he was chasing.

The man’s hood was draped over his face casting long shadows over his features. A human, judging by his silhouette. Or at least some kind if humanoid. But from what CC-1467 could tell, he had light-brown hair and an overgrown beard. Dark eyes, that caught in the light of the streetlamp above. His fair skin tone was overcast with shadows.

The Commander watched the man. Why had he stopped so suddenly? He wasn’t cornered. The man’s fingers flexed around the trigger of his blaster, though his arm hung lose at his side.

CC-1467 raised both his DC-17S just in case. He needed confirmation that this was in fact the Jedi insurgent, and not just some random low-life. That it was in fact this Fallon Grey, the man he was after. The Senior Commander wasn’t about to shoot the wrong person or waste his time.

He angled the barrel at the hooded figure. “Identify yourself.” He heard himself say. Too calm.

CC-1467 looked eyes with the hooded figure briefly. And then, the man bolted again. But not before he raised his blaster and fired off a shot that tore through the fabric of CC-1467’s poncho.

He tore the cloth over his head, threw it on the ground and headed after the other man. Kriff this, he didn’t like the poncho anyway.

The chase went on for a little longer, they turned so many corners that the Commander had no clue where he was anymore. They passed another square, with a big stone statue at the center. CC-1467 hid behind it as he exchanged shots with the other man.

After what felt like forever, the hooded figure came to a stop again in another back alley. The square was somewhere behind them. And CC-1467 realized why the other man had stopped running; a dead end. Odd. The other man wasn’t stupid, the Commander could tell. This had been deliberate. Just one exit. Though CC-1467 wasn’t the one cornered.

He raised both pistols again and pointed one at the other man’s chest and the other at his head. Neither of them said anything for a while. In the distance a night creature chirped.

The silence became suffocating.

Then slowly the hooded figure lowered their blaster and holstered it. He proceeded to raise his arms surrendering. That’s what it was supposed to look like. But CC-1467 didn’t just chase a man for this long just for him to surrender now. No, this wasn’t that. And The Commander wasn’t about to rise to the bait. He could spot the tell-tale of a distraction.

But what was the other man waiting on? Or better who?

Then the man spoke, voice low. “I came here to disappear,” the man started. “Didn’t your Empire already take enough lives?”

The Commander didn’t reply. He turned the question over in his head. Yeah, but that wasn’t the point. He steadied his grip on both pistols and focused back on the figure.

That’s when the other man took off his hood and CC-1467 could see his face more clearly. It matched the holo of the Jedi Knight he was after.

Fallon Gey. It was him.

His finger twitched on the trigger, but he didn’t pull it. Because some part of him told him to hold off.

“You’re a clone, huh?” The man stated.

The Senior Commander didn’t reply. It wasn’t really a question.

But it was obvious, the other man wasn’t interested, just stalling. His gaze snapped to the DC-17S. Than the man proceeded to smiled to himself. “So, you’re with the Empire I presume,” he continued. “Means you already know who I am.”

The Commander didn’t move. “Then you know why I came.”

“Yes,” Falon Grey said. “But I do wonder why you came alone.”

Neither spoke. Then Grey added. “I thought the Empire had unlimited resources but all they could spare to hunt me own was one man.”

CC-1467 didn’t rise to the bait. “You’re stalling, why?” He asked instead.

“Ah, I see. You’re impatient—”

“—No, I’m just not falling for your tricks,” he replied. “I know you’re not alone. That you got some ally ready to jump me.”

“That’s who you’re waiting on, right?” The Commander added.

Grey didn’t reply.

 “So, why don’t you just go ahead and shoot me then,” the Jedi asked. “That’s why you came in the first place, isn’t it?”

The Senior Commander’s finger closed firm around the trigger, but he didn’t pull it. His fingers locked up. What the kriff? That never happened. He sucked in a breath. But he didn’t shoot.

He didn’t know this Jedi, did he? So why the kriff was he hesitating?

“I can feel the conflict within you,” Grey said. “You carry more demons than I. Interesting.”

“You know nothing about me.” The Commander barked back.

“No, but I do.” Grey took a step forward.

CC-1467 could feel a presence pushing against his thoughts. Digging in his mind, kriffing Jedi and their Force tricks.

“Your mind is a mess-“ The jedi started.

“—Get out of my head!”

Grey laughed. “Yeah, just as I thought…”

The Commander was losing his patience, taking a step forward too. Closing the distance some more, both DC-17S still raised. He was done with this.

“I can help you, you know,” Grey started. “Help you reclaim what they took.”

CC-1467 bared his teeth under his helmet. Trying to shield his thoughts.

“I don’t need your help,” he snarled back. “Just here to finish the job, not for therapy sessions.”

“Then go ahead,” Fallon raised his arms, almost like he was welcoming it. “I’m all yours.”

CC-1467 was about to pull the trigger when Fallon Grey moved. He used the Force to summon a piece of rebar into his hands. The Senior Commander pulled the trigger at that but only clipped the man’s shoulder.

Grey flinched but advanced on him regardless using the rebar like a sword. CC-1467 holstered his pistols and got out his vibroblade. Ducking under a swing. They danced through the narrow alley, looked in close quarter combat. Grey struck the Commander across the chest, though his armor absorbed the blow. Just a scratch in the paint. A second later he retaliated and struck the vibroblade across Grey’s face, once the other man's guard was down for a second.

Blood welled instantly. But the Jedi welcomed it. Kriff, who was this guy?

They kept going until the Commander’s vibroblade was knocked out of his hand and skidded across the floor. He caught the piece of rebar and twisted it, while kicking Gray’s feet from under him.

The Jedi stumbled for half a second just enough for the Commander to use the momentum and pin Grey against the facade of the building. The piece of rebar pressed to the other man’s neck. CC-1467 grit his teeth, looking eyes through his visor with the Jedi.

At that a voice rang through his mind. Not his, not Grey’s. “You’re insane, you know that?” “Wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t, General.” Came the reply, with a snarky undertone. It sounded like him, same cadence. Like CC-1467. But different.

Something hit him square in the side, and he tumbled, losing grip on the piece of rebar. He snapped back and realized he was on the ground. Behind him lay a crate, its contents spilled.

His head was spinning, as he realized his helmet lay next to him. His left hand went to the back of his head, it came back wet. He was bleeding. Grey stood a couple meters away. Hand raised as more crates started levitating around him.

Kriffing jetii.

CC-1467 looked around. Trying to find anything useful. His eyes landed on the piece of rebar he had drooped. He looked back up as another crate landed centimeters from his face. A warning. Next one wouldn’t miss.

He took a deep breath. Then pushed himself up and lunged for the piece of rebar.

“That won’t safe you.” Grey snarled, laughing.

Yeah, no kriffing kidding. But it was better than nothing.

He reached for the piece of rebar, when another crate collided with the wall behind him, pinning his left leg. Pain blossomed in his shin. He shoved it down, gritting his teeth.

Grey thought he had him cornered. That the jedi had the upper hand. Good that’s what CC-1467 was counting on. Arrogance was something a Jedi wasn't supposed to show, nor feed off of. But the Commander could tell that Fallon Grey hadn't been a Jedi in a long time.

His left hand reached for the rebar, but it was just out of reach. Kriff. He turned his head. Looking eyes with Grey. The Commander thought about unholstering his pistols, but they’d be no use against a jedi at this range. He had learned that the hard way.

Jedi can just redirect the blaster blots. Best case into the ground, wall, sky or an object. Worse case right back at him. No thanks, he’ll pass on that.

The jetii lifted both his hands and body angled towards a pipe and tore a piece from the wall using the Force. It landed in his hand, fingers closing around the metal. Grey spun it around, like it was a kriffing lightsaber.

“You can’t win this,” Grey said grinning. “You’re merely clone.”

The jedi smiled to himself again. Then Grey raised his other hand, ripping metal rod straight from a vegetable cart. Some of its contents spilled across the floor as the cart tilted to the side. Fallon Grey twirled both of them in his hands. Mockingly.

This was it, the Commander thought. He was on the ground. His leg was pinned, and the only weapons he had, his pistols were useless to him.

No.

CC-1467 reached out again, for the rebar. C’mon, please. But his fingers only closed around air. He grit his teeth and pushed himself forward with all he had, left hand reaching out, right hand bracing. His left leg screamed, still pinned under the crate.

The Commander felt his knee pop under the strain, but he couldn’t focus on that. That’s when Grey laughed before leaping up in the air using the Force to gain momentum.

CC-1467 reached, desperate.

His left hand finally closed around the piece of rebar, and he angled his body towards the jetii bracing for impact. Rebar in hand pointed skyward just as Fallon Grey landed in front of the Senior Commander. CC-1467 closed his eyes.

Kriff, he’d been too late.

He expected pain. But it didn’t come.

Slowly he opened his eyes, and Grey stood in front of him. The metal rod and pipe cluttered to the ground as the Jedi fell to his knees. Grey’s eyes went wide as he stared at the piece of rebar lodged in his chest.

The Jedi rasped a breath, hands still on the rebar. Blood welled from his mouth and the chest wound. Then he shook his head in disbelief—eyes going wide—staring at the piece of rebar lodged in his chest.

“I underestimated you, clone…” Fallon Gray said, before his body went slack and he hit the ground. Eyes pointed skyward before rolling back.

Just then did the Senior Commander dare to breath. Kriff, he’d done it. Somehow. His right hand trembled before he collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. Adrenalin fading quickly. He looked past Grey at the beautiful night sky. Taking it all in.

After a moment he turned his head towards the crate that still pinned his leg in place. He grit his teeth and reached for the pipe Grey had drooped. His fingers closed around it, and he shifted ever so slightly to slide it underneath the crate.

He pushed down on the pipe with all the strength he could muster up and used the pipe as leverage. But unfortunately, the cate didn’t buckle. The Commander hit the ground again, face first. Muscles screaming. He was spent.

You can’t give up now, he told himself.

So, CC-1467 tried again. This time using his entire upper body. And slowly the crate lifted. Just a couple centimeters, but it was enough. He pulled his left leg towards his torso. When he let go of the pipe, the crate hit the duracrete floor with a dull thud.

The Senior Commander rolled onto his back, breathing hard.

Kriff, it hurt. But that pain meant he was still breathing, so he’d take it. He lay there for what felt like hours, just breathing in the night air. Staring at the stars above.

Eventually he pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall behind him. He pulled his left leg close. The greave was dented, and his knee plate was misaligned. He tried moving his foot. It responded but hurt like hell. Good, at least he could still feel it. That was a good sign, he could deal with the pain.

CC-1467 pulled himself towards Grey’s body where now sat next to the fallen Jedi. The man’s eyes were open staring at nothing. The Commander leaned down and closed Grey’s eyelids gently. He sat there for a couple moments, not moving.

Paying tribute like he always did. Because CC-1467 might be cold and efficient. But wasn’t cruel, nor heartless.

He then pushed himself upright favoring his left leg as he leaned heavily against the wall. He was exhausted, bleeding from his cheek and the back of the head too. Bruises blossoming across his body most likely. He contemplated carrying Fallon Grey out of the city, burying his body like he done so many times before.

But his left leg reminded him of the impossible task as he shifted his weight.

Yeah, not this time.

He pushed himself of the wall, gritting his teeth as his weight distributed unevenly. He limped towards where his helmet lay discarded on the ground. He leaned down and picked it up, before turning back towards the scene.

He looked back on Fallon Grey’s still form, before turning around and limping down the alley they had come from. Just as he was about to turn the corner he heard feet hitting the ground behind him.

His left hand shot towards his pistol as he turned around. His right hand still held his helmet.

Crouched down next to Fallon Grey was a Tholothian woman. Her hands hovered over his body unsure if to touch him. She looked up, glaring at the Senior Commander. There was fury and hatred in her eyes. But pain too, so much of it.

But she didn’t reach for the blaster at her side. Instead, her hands cupped the Jedi’s face, and she leaned down, her forehead touching his. A silent gesture.

“I’m sorry. I was too late…” She whispered.

CC-1467 stood frozen. Unsure what to do. So, he just stared, his right hand closing around his helmet. Knuckles turning white. His pistol hung in his other hand forgotten.

The woman wasn’t an active threat. She was in mourning.

She looked back up, watery eyes meeting his. “Why?” She asked, a tear slipping down her face.

“—I…” The Commander had nothing to say to that, because there wasn’t anything to say.

Because I was ordered to neutralize him. Because he’s a jetii. An aruetii.

But instead, he stayed silent.

“He’d done nothing wrong.” The Tholothian woman added, before leaning her head on Grey’s torso. Her tendrils sliding in front of her face as he shoulders shook.

CC-1467 wanted to say something. Anything. But the words stuck in his throat.

So, he turned again. Leaving her in the alley with Grey’s body. He felt something wet slip down his check, he wiped it away with his sleeve. What the kriff? He didn’t cry. He never cried, and definitely not for aruetii.

He shut his eyes, willing the wetness away.

What is going on with me lately?

Ever since the interaction on the main cruiser’s command bridge in the Lothal sector, he had been acting all strange. Sentimental even. Just hours ago, he had watched the children play. Not just curiosity, but…envy? He had watched them running around, chasing each other. Laughing.

And a part of him…a part of him had wanted that for himself.

To be happy the same way those children were.

Another tear slid down his cheek. But this time he didn’t wipe it away, he let his sit there as he continued to limp down the dark alleys.

One of the streetlights blinked on above him as he passed, illuminating the otherwise dark space. Casting his shadow along the wall. It was distorted and wrong.

After dragging his battered body for way to long he finally passed the apartment complex again. The room from earlier, was still dark. The candlelight snuffed out permanently. He continued on only pausing briefly to catch his breath.

His left leg burned as he dragged it forward, but he shoved through the pain.

He looked up at the stars. And realized what a beautiful night it really was. The sky was clear, and a night creature was chirping their lullaby from nearby.

The tight alley finally opened up into the giant square. The one with the fountain he had sat on earlier that day, watching the locals go about their day. Where he had handed the young Togrutan girl her blue ball back. Where he had stood and watch the children play like their lives weren’t burdened with expectations yet.

They were free. Happy. And together.

He slumped against the wall of the stone fountain. Armored back pressed against the stone, legs stretch out in front of him. He sat there in silence. The square was otherwise empty, just him. He didn’t want this moment to end. So, he sat there head leaning against the fountain, eyes directed skywards.

Eventually, he reluctantly reached for the comm on his wrist. His hand hovering over the button, unsure.

He wasn’t sure what made him hesitate.

The Commander looked back up at the stars, breathing in slowly. Feeling the cold air against his face, the blood drying on his cheek.

He sighed audibly and pressed his comm. “CC-1467, requesting evac,” he started. “Transmitting coordinates now.”

There was static, then. “Copy that, Sir,” came the reply. “I presume the mission was successful?”

That was one word for it.

He opened his mouth to answer. But nothing came out. The image of the Tholothian woman leaning over Fallon Grey’s body had burned into his retinas. He didn’t feel regret exactly, he’s done what was ask of him. Like always.

But this time had been different, he had hesitated more than once. Grey was a jetii, they were traitors, right? They had committed treason against the Republic. The whole reason for the purge.

But the Republic was no more. Just the Empire standing in its place. Stronger. Better. But why did he feel so terrible about it. He hadn’t felt like this after he shot Captain Viper—his own brother—just days ago. So, what had changed?

“Sir?” Asked the comms officer again.

“Yes,” CC-1467 looked at his injured leg when he spoke. “It’s done.”

Not ‘it was successful.’ just ‘It’s done.’ Because it didn’t feel like success.

“Good, I will forward your report straight to the Emperor’s office,” the man said. “Do you require any medical attention?”

He was still staring at his leg when he replied “Possibly.”

“Copy that, evac is on its way. I’ve dispatched a medical team as well.” Then the line cut.

Static crackled before it cut out completely. And CC-1467 was left to himself, sitting in the open square, back pressed against the fountain, in one of the settlements on Dantoonie of all places.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, not here. But his eyes cracked opened. He lifted his left hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving sun. It was bright out. Too bright. Probably mid-day already.

He blinked. The square was filled with locals again. Adults sitting in the cafés again. Sipping their tea and eating baked goods. The street vendors had already set up their stalls. And the children were playing again. Like nothing had happened. To them it was just another day.

One girl chased a lone loth-cat. Those creatures were virtually everywhere.

Used to only be local to Lothal, but since they were the most common stowaways. They had populated half of the galaxy it seemed.

Lothal…he still couldn’t get the interaction on command bridge out of his mind. The way one of the shinies at looked at him. Like he saw through the tinted visor. Saw through him.

Why had the shiny felt so familiar? The Senior Commander just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

He shifted but flinched as pain blossomed in his left shin. He grit his teeth.

Yeah, right. He forgot about that.

But it hurt less than a couple hours ago, so he counted it as a win.

His attention was draw to a round object headed straight for his face. His soldier instincts kicked in and his arms shot up catching it.

Just then he took a look at what it was. He turned it over in his hands and realized it was the same blue ball from last rotation. He looked back up and there she stood again. The young Togruta. Her orange and white striped Lekku swaying in the breeze. Montrals still so small, still growing in.

She smiled at him, all teeth. Her bright blue eyes shining.

Then an older human boy came up from behind and picked her up. Practically swooping her off the ground. The boy spun her around. The girl giggled and squealed in delight.

And he was grinning like he had the time of his life, blond hair plastered to his face falling into his eyes. But he didn’t seem to care.

And CC-1467 sat there watching the pair. His lip twitched upward into a smile. And this time it did reach his eyes. It was lopsided from where the synthetic skin grafts on the right side of his face tugged wrong. But it was a smile, nonetheless.

A younger human boy with black curls stood a couple meters away, surrounded by his friends. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with restless energy. He waved at the Commander to pass him the ball. CC-1467 stared down at the blue round object in his hands. He turned it over and looked up again.

He scooted a little away from the fountain, ignoring the pain in his leg. Then putting his entire back into it, he chucked the ball across the square, and the other human boy caught it. He gave a thumbs up before returning to his game grinning like a di’kut.

And CC-1467, he continued to smile despite himself.

The older human boy and the Togruta had joined the others again. He carried her on his back, her hands were outstretched pretending to be flying, most likely. The blonde-haired boy made sounds that resembled engines contributing to their little roleplay.

Laughter could be heard. Parents in the cafes turned their heads towards their children, smiling. Than their eyes fell on him. The odd-one-out. The imperial soldier who had been asleep against the fountain just minutes ago. He was surprised no one woke him.

They didn’t seem to care who he was. Or where he came from. They just returned to their tea and baked goods, picking up their conversations again like this was the most normal thing in the galaxy.

And CC-1467 caught himself thinking about it, just for a second. Domestic life. No orders. No expectations. No pressure. The simple life.

Engines whined in the distance, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the present.

He looked up and saw a Lambda-Class T-4a Shuttle descending outside of the settlement. Touching down on the nearby gras plains near the old Jedi Enclave.

That was his sign. The Commander pushed himself upright, favoring his left leg as he limped towards the shuttle. He gripped onto his helmet tightly, as he turned one last time taking it all in.

Back on the shuttle he sat down on the floor, armored back pressed against the hull. A clone medic crouched in front of him sliding off the Senior Commander’s left boot. Not waiting for permission. At least that hadn’t changed.

The medic proceeded to strip of the left greave and thigh plate.

Afterwards he peeled away the black fatigues to reveal an ugly bruise. “The Tibia might be nicked,” the clone medic muttered to himself. “Kneecap's probably misaligned..."

Without a warning the clone medic snapped CC-1467's knee back in place. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek—enough to taste copper—trying not to make a sound.

“Nothing a bit of time and bacta can’t fix.” The medic added afterwards.

The medic looked up at that. “You got lucky, sir. Should be an easy fix.”

Yeah, luck was the right word for it.

It had been close, too close for his liking. But he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.

And now after this detour, he was finally on his way to Coruscant again. He had told Cody he’d only be gone for a couple weeks. It’s been three months. His ori’vod probably thought he was dead at this point.

He was bringing a welcoming gift too. Months of mission logs, K.I.A. and M.I.A. listings to update the casualty reports. And more.

The Commander smiled underneath his helmet. No one could see it, better that way. Yeah, Cody probably will hate him for this.

But still, he was looking forward to finally head back to the Coruscant Guard Headquarters.

His datapad chirped with a notification. A text from Fox. ‘Your behind schedule again.’ ‘Got to talk to you. It’s urgent.’

It always is…

Chapter Text

 “I don’t like it.” Hunter murmured.

He had a bad feeling about this. His senses were telling him this was a trap; his gut was telling him. He didn’t have to use his abilities to come to that conclusion. Something was off, they all felt it. Fortunately, they had been able to rescue Gregor. But it had been a close call.

Hunter sat in front of the nav computer running scans of Lothal's surface. Trying to find any trace of the Captain. Rex hadn’t answered, which wasn’t a good sign, even worse was that Gregor had confirmed their fear.

The Commando had suspected that the imperials might have brought Rex to the capital for ‘interrogation’. Hunter just hoped they weren’t already too late. He wasn't worried that Rex might crack and tell the imperials what thez want to her. No. He knows Rex won't and he doesn't want to think about what they'll do to the Captain when they don't get their answers.

Just now he realized he was doing it again—spinning his blade between his fingers—the nervous tick he had adapted over the years. Hunter took a deep breath and slid the vibroblade back into his vambrace.

He turner around in the nav chair watching his crew. Gregor was passed out in one of the bunks, leg dangling over the edge. The Commando must be exhausted, Hunter couldn’t blame him. Omega was sitting up in the gunner’s nest—Lula in hand—looking out through the transparisteel window.

The way she was fidgeting with the Tooka doll told Hunter that she must be nervous too. In this moment he realized just how young she really is. Omega’s just a kid after all, and Hunter had promised to protect her no matter what, for as long as he lived.

If it came down to it, Hunter would lay down his life to protect the kid. They all would.

“Hey…” came a gravely voice from behind him.

Hunter didn’t have to turn to know who it is. “Hey yourself,” he answered. “What’s up?”

Echo paused, sitting down on the chair opposite him. Elbows braced on his knees, head in his hands. “I—” he started. “I’m worried for Rex. That’s all.”

That was a lie, Hunter could tell. “No, it’s not.”

Echo huffed a laugh. “Yeah, maybe your right. It’s just…”

Hunter nudged Echo’s elbow. “Hey, you can talk to me,” Hunter began. “I can see it in your face vod, somethings’ on your mind.”

“Kriff,” Echo began. “I just can’t place it.”

Hunter scooted forward in his chair, looking at Echo. Giving his brother time to gather his thoughts. No reason to rush him.

Echo took a deep breath. “Do you remember that Senior Commander, the one from the command bridge. The one who…who killed Captain Viper?” Echo’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“It’s…argh, I can’t explain it but…” Echo continued. “…it’s almost like, like I knew him—...I feel like I should know him. But. I. Don’t.”

“Hey...”

Echo looked up at that, his eyes were watery, like he was holding something back. Their gaze met before Echo pulled away and tried to blink the wetness away.

“Sorry...”

“Hey,” Hunter put a hand on Echo’s shoulder. “Don’t be.”

 “Echo…hey,” he took a deep breath. “I know you. You wouldn’t be acting like this if it was nothing. Maybe once we’ve rescued Rex, we can look into it.”

His big brother looked up again, his organic hand unclenched slowly. “Thanks…” Echo’s voice was small, shaky.

Hunter squeezed Echo’s shoulder once before getting up. He took another glance back up at Omega in the gunner’s nest. She hadn’t move. He hadn’t expected her to.

“Entering the atmosphere now.” Tech informed them over the ship’s internal comms.

Hunter joined Wrecker and Tech in the cockpit, looking outward through the forward transparisteel viewport. Echo entered a moment later. Hunter caught his brother wiping his eyes with the back of his organic hand. Hunter didn’t call him out, he wouldn’t.

The bulkhead door hissed open again, this time Gregor entered, stretching out his arms. Eyes still half-lidded. Voice gravely with sleep. “What I miss?” He asked.

Before anyone could answer, Omega brushed past Hunter and sat down on Wrecker’s lap so that she could see over the dashboard. Her eyes locked on the fields below as the Marauder finally broke through the clouds flying over the farmland.

Tech adjusted their trajectory and activated the long-range scanners searching for imperial activity on the surface, and sure enough something came up on their scanners. Above the planet’s capital.

“Found something,” Tech announced.

Tech got up and headed for the center council. He plugged his data pad into the ship’s computer system, fingers flying over the screen. Echo sat down in the pilot’s chair and took over the controls.

“That’s…” Gregor started but trailed off.

The comment made Hunter glance back up. He froze, eyes fixed on a massive structure below.

The Marauder was headed straight for a giant half-finished dome.

“What the kriff is that?” Gregor asked, flabbergasted.

“That must be the Imperial Planetary Occupation Facility,” Tech started, eyes glued to the screen of his datapad. Skimming through the streams of data. “Apparently it’s still under construction, through they’ve recently started transferring some of the Empire’s HQ’s from neighboring sectors into this facility.”

Omega's eyes went wide as she observed the mushroom-shaped vessel that loomed menacingly over Lothal City.

“My guess, if they were going to transfer the Captain towards a secure facility, this be the place.” Tech added.

Hunter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Kriff, this was going to be harder than anticipated. He should have probably expected that it wasn’t going to be as easy. Getting Gregor out of the Venator had been pure luck, he’s still surprised that their plan had worked so flawlessly. Too flawlessly.

Which usually meant it had been a trap. But for what?

The venators hadn’t opened fire, hadn’t tried to ground the Marauder again. The Empire hadn’t sent any fighters to tail them. And that. That worried Hunter. Because it never was that easy. Not without a price.

“I don’t like this.” Echo commented. He was leaning against the bulkhead, brow furrowed in thought. Probably already running a dozen scenarios through his head.

“Yeah, me neither.” Gregors added, voice cracking mid-sentence. “But we owe it to Rex to try.”

They all nodded in agreement. Rex would do the same for them.

“Wait,” Wrecker began, turning around in the co-pilot's chair. Omega still on his lap. Wrecker’s eyes went wide with realization. “We’re headed there?”

He didn’t sound amused.

“That’s straight up suicide!” He added punching the dashboard in frustration.

Tech gave him a look.

Omega jumped down from Wrecker’s lap and headed over towards Hunter. The kid looked up at him, biting her bottom lip nervously. “Are we going to get Rex out?”

Hunter didn’t respond immediately. When he did, he lowered himself down, so he was at her eye level. “We’ll try, kiddo.”

Omega sat in the gunner’s nest again—Lula in hand—looking out through the back viewport. The clouds had parted a bit, thinning out. Even from down here she could still make out the blockade of the venators above the atmosphere.

She never had been on a Venator-class Star destroyer before. This had been her first time. She used to marvel them whenever they’d descend through the thick clouds above Tipoca City.

She used to sit by the window for hours watching the hangar personnel up- or offload supplies or troops. Wishing she could leave with them. Back on Tipoca as Nala Se’s assistant she had gotten bored easily, with nothing to do.

The Chief Medical Scientist had always kept her separate from her brothers. Alone. At least Clone Force 99 had each other back then, she had…no one. Not really.

Sure, there had been this one older boy she hung out with a couple times. But she never got to learn his name.

They weren’t supposed to, but they snuck out anyway. The two of them would head for the catwalk in hanger I-9 and just sit there, starring out over the churning ocean. Watching the thunder crackle across the sky, illuminating the otherwise dark space.

Laugh. Play with the small ball the boy kept talking "borrowing" after training. He'd make up crazy stories that the he swore were true, just to get her to laugh. Up there on the catwalk—they'd forget about their duties—just be kids for once. Even if only for a little while.

She never knew what happened to him. One day he just...stopped showing up. Probably got caught by the Kaminiies. Maybe even punished. She never heard from him again. Omega just hopes that he’s alright.

She had gone looking for this brother, without any luck. After all, it’s hard to find someone if he wears the same face as a millions of others.

She hadn’t thought about him in years. The thought had come uninvited. Omega pressed Lula closer to her chest, eyes looking up through the window. She wiped away a tear, pressing her eyes shut.

Maybe the boy had grown up into a soldier? Was working for the Empire? Maybe he was still out there…somewhere. Or, maybe he never...No! Omega stopped herself before continuing that thought.

She didn’t miss Tipoca, not really. Sure, everything had been much simpler back then—for one they weren’t constantly being shoot at—but at least here, with her crew, she wasn’t alone. She was loved. Her brother’s would do anything to protect her, and she’d do the same.

But still…

The image of the venators raining down fire on Tipoca City was burned into her retinas. It had only been a couple months, and she realized how much she had changed since then. Since she had just been Nala See’s assistant. Since she would chase after the mysterious boy until he would stop in the middle of the hallway and collapse on the ground, laughing.

But most importantly how much the galaxy had changed. The Empire had emerged from the Republic’s ashes and destroyed everything she’d ever knew. Now all she had left were her brothers. Her crew, that had to be enough.

Omega turned her head away from the sky. She looked around the troop bay where everyone was suiting up. Tech and Echo still wore their borrowed armor, while Hunter had decided already stripped off the regulation gear and was already in his own amor. The familiar grey, orange and teal markings were comforting.

A stark contrast to the white plastoid Tech and Echo were still wearing.

Tech was rolling his eyes again, clearly so done with the argument between Echo and Hunter.

“Don’t you think you should put the standard issue gear back on?” Echo continued.

Hunter didn’t even bother to answer. Clearly trying to end the back and forth, he probably had a plan and was waiting on sharing it with the group. Like always.

judging from the furrowed brow and the frown on his face, Echo was particularly grumpy today. Omega couldn’t blame him. This whole situation with Rex was probably making Echo anxious, which was new. Most of the time Echo was more reserved, nit showing much emotion. But not when it was about the Captain. About Rex.

Echo didn’t talk much about his time with the 501^st only to say that he didn’t want to talk about it. But she knows him and Rex had been close. The last one still alive from his squad in Torrent Company.

Wrecker was in the cockpit, taking over the controls for now. He hadn’t said much since their conversation earlier, same as Gregor. The Commando had stayed up front as well.

Omega came to the conclusion that everyone must on edge, same as her.

She sat down on the ledge next to the ladder, looking down at her brothers. Tech had his datapad in hand again, fingers flying over the screen. Nothing new.

Hunter and Echo must have resolved the issue and were going about their own business. Omega caught the glint from Hunter’s vibroblade as he twirled it between his fingers again.

She looked down at her own hands then. Fingers fidgeting with her tunic.

Now during this quiet moment, a thought surfaced unwanted. The Pykes. Kriff, what were they going to do about them? Time’s running out, and they don't even know where to start. They could just try to ignore the Pykes, take their chances, but Omega knew that that probably wouldn’t end well.

It most certainly won't.

Because you don't want to mess with a syndicate like the Pykes. Not again. Fortunately for them they had left their first encounter with the Pykes unscraped. The second time around had been rougher, Tech bore a permanent reminder of that encounter on his left cheek now. A scar that might fade but never fully heal, reminding them that they only got away because the Pykes had allowed it. And she knew, without a doubt, that next time. Next time the Pykes wouldn’t be as forgiving.

“Omega?” Someone called out. It pulled her from her thoughts.

She looked back up from her hands, which stilled in her lap. Hunter was headed towards her. Her brother slid his vibroblade back into his left vambrace.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, “You’re staying on the ship with Gregor.”

She crossed her arms in mock offense. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” Hunter came closer, still looking up at her. “Because it’s safer. If you encounter any trouble. Take the Marauder and get out of there. You hear me?”

She didn’t reply.

Hunter sighed, stepping closer. “Hey, kiddo.”

She finally meet Hunter’s eyes. He lay a hand on her wrist. “We’ll be alright.” Hunter assured, squeezing her wrist once.

Omega nodded, swallowing hard. She hated staying behind. Getting benched. But she also knew it was for the best. She’d just get in their way again.

“You done?” Echo interrupted. He was clearly still in a mood.

Hunter sighed audibly but didn’t argue. Just gave Omega a quick smile and turned towards their grumpy teammate. But before Hunter could open his mouth the bulkhead door hissed open again and Tech stepped through.

“I assume we’re splitting up?” Tech said, it wasn’t really a question. More like asking for confirmation.

“Yeah.” Hunter replied, grabbing his helmet and turning it over in his hands.

Omega climbed down the ladder, and sat down on one of the chairs, looking up at her older brothers. They’ll be alright, hopefully, she thought. They can handle themselves.

“We’ll touch down in five.” Wrecker announced through the open bulkhead door, cutting through the awkward silence.

“Copy that.” Tech replied.

Echo brushed past Tech and sat down in the pilot’s chair taking over for Wrecker. Echo wasn’t going either, so at least Omega wouldn’t be alone. Gregor was staying too if she had overheard correctly.

Wrecker grabbed his helmet and put it on, so it sat on his head. He walked confidently into the troop bay. “Who’s ready to blow things up?!” He announced excitedly.

Omega could see Echo rolling his eyes dramatically as he turned around in the chair to glare at Wrecker. “Stealth, Wrecker,” Echo reminded him. “It's a rescue mission. We're trying to get Rex out of there in one piece, remember?”

“Argh, I never get to blow things up,” Wrecker looked defeated. “This is no fun.”

Hunter clapped Wrecker on the back. “Maybe next time, big guy.”

“You always say that!”

Omega got up and headed over to Wrecker. “It's alright,” she started. “Maybe when you get back, we can have more of the Mantell Mix? To make up for it.”

“It’s tradition.” She added with a big smile on her face.

That's when Wrecker scooped her up and flung Omega over his shoulder. She couldn't stop herself from giggling.

Hunter gave her a lopsided smile. It was small but it meant everything to her.

“Let's do this,” Omega announced. “Rex, we're coming!”

He slowly blinked awake. His head was throbbing.

Rex instinctively rubbed the back of his head as he pushed himself up on his left forearm. Where am I? That’s when it came back to him. Ah, yeah. Right. They got captured. It was dark, only the red glow of the emergency light in the top corner was illuminating the space.

Rex scanned the cell. He was alone. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign.

They must be keeping him and Gregor separate. Unless…no. Rex isn’t going there. Not now.

He sat up fully. Rex took in his surroundings. From what he could tell the room was empty. Just him. The throbbing in his skull wouldn’t fade, probably from whichever drug they had administered to knock him out cold.

Rex was unable to tell for how long he’d been here. Wherever here was. Lothal most likely, but it was hard to tell, his thoughts were still sluggish. Wherever he was, he just hoped Hunter and his crew be able to find him in time.

Footsteps sounded in the distance. Someone was approaching. The door hissed open a moment later and the ray shield disengaged. One of them—a Sergeant by the looks of him—stepped inside the room. He looked Rex up and down, than hauled the Captain to his feet.

 “Move!” He ordered, his tone left no room for arguments.

Rex couldn’t find the energy to resist. His legs were weak and his back hurt from laying on the duracrete floor for whoever knew how long. That’s when Rex registered that he was still in his armor. Odd. He spun his head around, eyes scanning the cell.

No luck. He couldn’t spot his helmet. Kriff. He’s had it since the start of the war, he bit his bottom lip hard. Focus, that’s not important right now, he told himself.

Rex observed the guards surrounding him. It was one against four, not the best odds. He was unarmed which would only complicate things. He could try to take them out, but what good would that do him? He didn’t want to risk it. He had to wait for the perfect opportunity to make his escape.

One of the troopers came up behind him and pinned Rex’s hands against his back to cuff them. The magnetic cuffs closed around his wrists, too tight. But Rex didn’t let it show on his face.

The troopers lead him through the facility. It looked to still be under construction. There were tarps draped across the floors and walls. Civvies we’re working all around them. They didn’t even look up as the imperials strove past them, they were probably used to it already.

Eventually the troopers stopped in front of a large door. Their squad leader was speaking into his comlink. He proceeded to punch a passcode into the control pad beside the door. Rex memorized the code. Could come in handy.

A moment later the door opened, revealing a rather large office.

It was a pretty spacious room. There was a big floor to ceiling window behind a desk which stood in the center facing the door. The window overlooked the entire south side of Lothal City. The capital if Rex wasn’t mistaken. The desk chair was turned around, facing the window, so Rex couldn’t see who was occupying it at the time.

The troopers came to a hold in front of the desk. “Sir,” The Sergeant started. “We’ve brought the prisoner.”

He didn’t get a response. Instead, the two guards behind Rex nodded to each other before heading towards the door they had just entered through. Standing guard. The other two troopers remained on either side of Rex, blasters holstered but hands hovering above the trigger.

Rex evaluated the chances of escape. The odds where certainly better than before. He wondered if the transparisteel window was reinforced or if he could smash through it. Maybe he could apprehend one of the guards' blasters and shoot the window, hope it shatters.

But by the looks of it they were higher up that Rex had initially anticipated. So, for that plan to work there had to be a platform underneath the window for him to land on. If there wasn’t, it be suicide. He couldn’t allow himself to think irrationally, this was neither the right time nor place to act recklessly.

He’ll wait. Eventually, an opportunity will present itself.

Just when he had finished that train of thought the chair turned around, slowly. A human was occupying it. The man sat upright, elbows braced on his desk, fingers laced together. Smiling. Must be one of the higher ups, he thought. Rex caught sight of the rank insignia on the man’s olive-green uniform. He swallowed hard.

A Vice Admiral, kriffing perfect.

“Thank you, troopers,” he waved the two remaining guards towards the door. “Return to your posts.”

The two troopers did so without hesitation. Both headed for the two back corners of the room, hands now resting on their holsters. Alert.

“Thank you for joining me on such a short notice.” The Admiral started, but his words were anything but genuine. A smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s not like I had a choice.” Rex spat back.

The other man shrug his shoulders, fingers stapling. The man’s demeanor changed. The smile turned into a grin.

“I am Vice Admiral Edmond Rampart of the Galactic Empire, so you better treat me with respect, soldier,” he snarled. Rampart got up from his chair, standing behind his desk now, looking out through the giant window. “Nevertheless, I have an offer to make to you.”

Rampart turned to face Rex again, stepping forward.

“I had your number scanned. 7-5-6-7, Captain Rex,” he spoke, tone underlined with disgust. “You were a hero once. You and your kind brought peace to the galaxy…”

Rampart let the words hang. The silence was only filled by the constant noise of construction around them. Rex tensed up, but there was nothing he could do. His hands were still bound behind his back.

Eventually the Admiral took a deep breath, starring at the Captain. “Why would you lower yourself to fight with traitors? Where is your loyalty?”

This riled Rex up. He spoke with determination. “My loyalty was to the Republic, not your Empire.” He clarified, taking a step forward.

The guards shifted, hands inching closer towards their respective weapons. Ready to intervene.

“I serve the order you put in place, Captain. I believe you want to do the right thing,” it almost sounded genuine this time. But that was just a front, Rex wasn’t fooled. “Surrender all your military intel and locations of any other deserters and I will offer you not only immunity, but reinstatement at an imperial training academy.”

Rex gave a curt laugh; the Admiral really believed that was what Rex had wanted to hear. He could care less about a new military rank in yet another army.

“I’ll pass.”

He was never gonna betray his friends and allays, even if it meant his death. He would rather die than be a traitor, that was for sure.

“That is...very unfortunate. I had great plans for you. But your lack of cooperation leaves me no choice.” Admiral Rampart pressed a button on his holopad.

The hologram of another officer appeared. “Bring in the IT-O interrogation droid.” Rampart ordered. The grin reappeared back on his face, lip twitching upwards. Rampart was enjoying this.

“Yessir.” The imperial officer replied before the hologram dissolved.

Rex had to keep his composure despite fear creeping up his throat. Kriff, this was going to suck. Rex made sure to keep his face neutral, the same expression he had worn into countless battles, even though he was screaming internally.

Vice Admiral Rampart sat back down, leaning back in his chair. Grin only widening, patiently waiting on the droid.

The door hissed open behind Rex. He braced himself for what was to come. But something was off. He could hear one pair of footsteps. Boots walking across durasteel. Slow measured strides. This wasn’t the droid; it was someone else.

Whoever it was, this couldn’t end well. Rex thought about making his escape. Taking his chances with the drop. Because whatever Rampart was planning, must be worse.

To his surprise he could hear a familiar voice behind him. Not some imperial officer. No. A voice that was all too familiar to him. A clone.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” The trooper spoke.

Well, most clones sounded the same. But it was the cadence, the tone, but also the pacing and the way he pronounced every word that made it clear to Rex who had just entered.

No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

Rex turned his head to the side and caught a glimpse of the white and grey phase II regulation armor.

“Yes,” Rampart said. “Thank you for coming, CC-3636.”

Kriffing hells, it is Wolffe.

Rex wouldn’t say him and Wolffe had been particularly close over the course of the war—not like him and Cody back—but he’s been on a couple of assignments with Commander Wolffe. They’ve led a couple of campaigns together, whenever the 501^st and 104^th were both assigned to the same system.

A small imperceptible smile formed on Rex’s face, just for a second. Then he masked it again. He looked at Wolffe and noticed there was something off about his armor. It looked different from the last time he had seen it in battle, months ago.

All the Wolfpack’s markings had been erased. The grey markings where the only thing left of the original design and his helmet was only partially painted. He must have repainted it, Rex thought. It looked ordinary. Too ordinary, for Rex’s likening.

They’ve striped Wolffe ofd everything that had made him General Plo Koon’s Commander. Only lleft an empty shell in its place. Rex’s stomach churned. He’d seen it too many times already. Clones being stripped off their personality and turned into obedient tools. Not people.

Over the past couple months, he’d always wondered what had happened to his fellow officers. If Cody was alright. If he was still somewhere out there. If he was even still—

No. No time for thoughts like that.

The Marshall Commander and him had been close during the war. Both their Jedi Generals had served in many battles together, which just strengthened their bond with his brother. Rex really hoped Cody was alright and safe, but what were the odds?

Rex turned his head to face the Vice Admiral again. Boiling inside with anger.

“I presume you know this clone,” Rampart continued, speaking to Wolffe. Rex was still wearing his signature white and blue armor. Kama and everything. The 501^st‘s markings stark against the once white plastoid. His holsters with his two DC-17S as well as his helmet with the Jaig eyes painted on the dome, where the only things missing.

“I believe the two of you have served together during the war?” Rampart added. It wasn’t a question, not really.

“Yessir,” Wolffe replied. “Captain Rex and I served alongside our former Jedi Generals in countless battles. Our paths did cross from time to time.” Wolffe said with a stone-cold voice.

He sounded and acted differently than how Rex remembered. Hollow. Wolffe had never been one to show much emotion. He wasn’t the sentimental type. But this…it still felt wrong. The man standing next to Rex isn’t the Wolffe he remembers. Like the last slither of personality had been stripped away.

The Commander took off his helmet then. Turning to face Rex fully. Now that Wolffe was facing him, Rex could see the scar across the right side of Wolffe’s face. Crossing over his right prosthetic eye.

Now there was no doubt in Rex’s mind that it was truly him.

Yet again, it got Rex thinking about his other brothers and if they were still alive and serving under the Empire. If they had deflected. If they were deserters like Gregor. Him and Clone Force 99 had been able to rescue Gregor and a couple other of deserters, but he kept wondering about the rest. The ones that hadn’t been as fortunate as them.

Rex focused back on the conversation. He wasn’t sure how long he had zoned out, but Wolffe gave Vice Admiral Rampart a nod before he spoke again. “I know Rex and he’ll not break easily; I assure you that. He is the most loyal soldier I know; he won’t betray his allies.”

Wolffe turned around and headed out the door. He hadn’t even spoken to Rex once, which was strange. Not even a nod. Nothing. This whole interaction had felt off.

“So, Captain, I presume you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Rampart asked as the door behind Rex opened again.

He could hear something hovering towards him, it made a mechanical hissing noise and buzzed as it came closer.

Rex squared his shoulders, trying not to flinch as the cuffs cut deeper into his wrists. “No, Wolffe's right. You won’t get anything out of me, I assure you that,” he paused, giving the statement time to land. “I’d rather die than betray them.”

The guards who had been standing in the corners of the room for the entire conversation moved in closer. They grabbed Rex tightly and secured him in place. Rex didn’t even bother to shake them off. It be no use anyway.

“Very well,” The Vice Admiral said, giving a sign to the droid with the flick of his wrist. The interrogation droid Rampart had requested came into view. It’s not the first time Rex had seen one of these, but he had never before been in the position of its target. He started to panic internally.

He had an irrational fear of needles. Kix was the only one who had known about it, he had discovered it all those years ago back on Saleucami when Rex had gotten shot. They only had limited supplies and Kix made do with what they had.

The Republic army mostly used bacta patches and stims anyway. So, thankfully he didn’t see needles quite that often.

But in this moment, Rex was tense. He didn’t know what was going happen and he hated being in the dark. It only intensified his irrational fear as he shifted nervously.

Rex had probably failed to hide his discomfort because Admiral Rampart spoke again. “I gave you a choice,” a grin flashed across his face as he spoke. “Remember Captain, every choice you make has its consequences.”

The interrogation droid hovered closer towards Rex, extending a retractable injection needle, as it leveled with Rex’s neck. Rex couldn’t show fear. So, he looked eyes with Rampart, watching the droid from the corner of his eye. He braced himself.

There was a long pause. But nothing happened.

That’s when he could feel something fly past him. The sudden gust of wind took him off guard. He flinched as the interrogation droid crumbled to the ground; a knife was sticking out of its sensor. The processor was sparking.

What the kriff?

He could hear blaster bolts as the two troopers at either side of him collapsed, unconscious. Stunned most likely. Same as the other two soldiers who had been standing guard next to the door.

Admiral Rampart sat back down on his chair reaching for something in front of him.

“Oh no, you won’t!” He could hear a voice behind him.

A second later, Hunter brushed past him. His pistols trained at the Admiral, who retracted his hands away from the control pad on his table. Rampart was holding his hands in the air, surrendering.

Someone came up behind Rex and started unlocking the cuffs. Rex could see a trooper in white plastoid behind him. The second his hands were free he reached for the trooper’s blaster, Rex fingers closed around the trigger.

“Halt,” the trooper yelled. Hands shouting up to unlatch his helmet. “Just me.” He added.

It was Tech.

What in all nine Corelllian hells was Tech doing in phase II standard issue regulation armor?

Rex lowered his blaster. “Kriff,” he began. “I almost shot you point blank.”

“That be…undesirable.” Tech replied. “I much rather like to get out of this place. I’ve already mapped the fastest route back to the Havoc Marauder.”

Hunter turned his head slightly looking at Rex as he spoke. “Good to have your back, Captain.”

Rex nodded once and trained his pistol—the one he took off Tech—at Vice Admiral Rampart as well.

“We have to go. According to my calculations we have approximately two minutes before this corridor will be swarming with imperial troops.” Tech examined looking down at the datapad in his hands.

“Today is your lucky day, I guess,” Hunter said as he stunned the Vice Admiral who slumped back unconscious into his chair. “Rex, are you good to go?”

“Yeah,” he lowered his pistol, eyes still fixed on the Admiral. “We’re done here.”

Rampart was no use to them dead, and they didn’t have enough time to take him with them, so they just left him there. Rex wasn’t someone who held grudges, wasn’t his stile anyway.

The three of them sprinted out of the office and down the corridor. They came across Wrecker who was keeping a watch out for any troops. Rex gave him a nod and Wrecker returned it, before the four of them continued to sprinting towards the main hanger.

Tech was still limping, favoring his left leg. He was lacking behind slightly, so Rex slowed covering his six. That's what got Rex thinking again. Back during their call over holo, Hunter had said they were about three days out. Which means it must have been at least a couple rotations since him and Gregor were captured.

They cam to a stop in front of the door that would lead into one of the small side hangars. Tech plugged his datapad into the control pad, and shortly after the hangar doors hissed open. Revealing the Havoc Marauder. The engines were already warming up, ramp lowering.

As Rex crossed the hangar’s threshold he got blinded. Trying to squint against the harsh light. It was probably around mid-day. The sun was shining. It was too bright for Rex’s liking; he guessed the windows in Rampart's office must have been tinted. He had been in a dark cell for quite some time, and his eyes still had to adjust to the brightness at first.

He felt someone nudging him in the right direction. Rex was thankful because he could barely make out anything in the harsh light. The four of them continued to sprint up the ramp and into the Marauder's cockpit.

“Echo,” Omega turned towards him. “Now!”

When all four of them had gotten on, the ramp closed behind them. It made an awful creaking sound. Someone should probably fix that, Rex thought. A moment later the ship lifted of the ground.

The hangar doors hissed open again and a squadron of imperial troops stepped through. They opened fire. Blaster bolts hit the Marauder's haul scorching the plating.

“Everyone alright,” Echo asked. “ Did you find him?” His brother was too focused on the ship’s controls and hadn’t spared a glance to see who exactly had entered.

Omega was looking at Rex. A smile had formed on her face the second she had spotted him. Now it only widened. Rex returned it.

“Yes, we’re alright,” Hunter began. “Wrecker got shot, but he'll survive.”

At that Rex turned towards Wrecker and noticed the scorch marks on Wreckers right shoulder. Fortunately, it looked like the armor had protected his skin from the blast.

“Rex is with us.” Hunter added.

Rex could see his vod’ika physically relaxing. Echo switched the ship’s controls over to Gregor who had taken a seat as Echo’s co-pilot.

“Are you alright, Rex?” Echo asked sounding genuine. He spun his chair around to face Rex.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He gave Hunter a small smile and clapped a hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder.

“We’re getting ready to jump as soon as we leave the atmosphere. So, everyone buckle up.” Echo informed them.

Omega and Tech had sat down in the back seats of the cockpit. Hunter, Wrecker and Rex remained where they stood.

"Gregor," Echo began. The Commando looked up, and switched the controls back over to Echo. A moment later the system chimed with a warning. “Looks like we’ve got some imperial fighter’s tailing us.”

“I’m on it.” Wrecker announced as he headed for the gunner’s nest.

A couple moments later they could hear the rear cannons going off. “Better strap in, it could get bumpy!” Wrecker laughed loudly, clearly enjoying himself.

Hunter and Rex headed through the bulkhead door as well. It hissed closed behind them. They headed for the row of seats on either side of the ship's outer walls. They weren’t the most comfortable, but they'd get the job done. Rex strapped in, relieved to see that Gregor was unharmed and save. He had worried about what had happened to his comrade after they got separated.

“Everyone hold tight!” Echo announce through the ship’s internal comms.

A moment later Rex stomach churned as the Marauder did multiple barrel rolls. Kriff, Rex had forgotten how much he hated flying until now. But it was a relief to know that Echo was sitting behind the control yoke and not Skywalker. Because Rex knew exactly how that would end.

“How come every time we fly, we crash?” Ahsoka had asked.

“It’s not my fault. It’s the ship!” Skywalker had defended.

Rex was shaken out of that memory, when the Marauder suddenly dipped downwards. Ah, kriff. Here we go. Rex couldn’t see through the closed bulkhead door, but he was pretty certain that the Marauder was in freefall.

“Echo,” the Captain began. “You better know what you’re doing.” Rex said over the comlink Hunter had handed him earlier.

Echo must have pulled up again, because the troop bay leveled again. Rex hadn't just escaped the imperial facility to crash right after.

After some time and way too many risks maneuvers for Rex's liking, Wrecker cheered from up in the gunner's nest. “Take that imperial scum!” He yelled before shutting down the targeting system.

Echo’s voice sounded over the ship's internal comms again. “Everyone hold tight. We’re exiting the atmosphere, I’m about to initiate the jump,” he warned. “Ya’ll better be strapped in.”

Rex wasn’t sure why Echo was so insistent on them buckling up, but his brother’s tone had left no room for arguments. There had to be a good reason.

“Wrecker you’re good up there?”

“Never better,” he replied. “Buckled up too.”

Hunter then turned to Rex who gave him a curt nod. The Sergeant got out his comlink and spoke. “We’re all buckled up back here. Whenever you’re ready.”

There was definitely something going on that Rex didn’t know about. That was for sure.

“Copy that, Havoc 1.” Echo replied.

Not long after he could feel the engines rattling as the ship jolted. The Marauder jumped into hyperspace a moment later. This must have been the bumpiest hyperspace entry Rex had ever experience. And he’d been Skywalker’s Captain for three years. Meaning he’s experienced some pretty terrible ones in the past. But this one might just be the worst.

“What’s with that?” Rex finally asked.

Hunter sighed. “The Marauder got damaged badly on Serenno, we believe there must be something wrong with the hyperdrive,” he began. “But we haven’t had any time to fix it yet.” Hunter clenched his yaw.

They should really start prioritizing better. A busted hyperdrive’s no joke, Rex thought.

“The Marauder had problems before Serenno too, but that mission just intensified the issue,” Hunter paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I assume the Empire also sabotaged the engine while we were grounded on the Venator. Hadn’t had time to check yet.“

Of course they hadn’t.

The bulkhead door hissed open again. Rex could see the relief on everyone's faces.

“Yeah, we ran into a couple complications. Nothing to worry about.” Wrecker added turning around in his seat.

“That's not how I would put it—” Tech started.

“Well, nobody asked for your opinion, Tech!” Wrecker yelled.

“Enough!” Hunter snapped.

Rex could tell that the Sergeant was quite aggravated. Hunter probably had to deal with their bickering for quite some time.

Both fell quiet at that.

“It’s a long story,” Omega spoke through the now open bulkhead door. She was still strapped in like the rest of them. “I can fill you in if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Rex could see the stars stretching through the forward viewport as the ship glid through hyperspace.

Not long after Hunter unbuckled. He headed for the cockpit gesturing for Rex and Wrecker to follow suit. Rex stopped next to Gregor, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I thought I lost you when we got ambushed,” Rex smiled. “I am glad you’re okay.”

Gregor turned towards him. “Yeah,” his voice cracked. “I feel the same way, vod.”

It felt good being surrounded by his brothers and sister. But that got him thinking about Wolffe again. Now that he knew his brother was still alive and with the Empire, Rex made up his mind. He wouldn’t give up on Wolffe. One day if chance would have it, he’d help Wolffe desert too. He owed him that much.

“So,” Echo started “What’s the plan now?” He asked turning his chair towards the rest of the crew, after putting the Marauder on autopilot.

Rex didn’t know either, but he knew they needed to free more brothers. He just wasn’t sure how.

“I’m not sure, Echo.” Hunter replied looking down at his helmet. His fingers brushing over the paint, deep in thought.

Rex swallowed hard. Kriff, the Empire still had his bucket. After all it was just a piece of plastoid, but not to him. He’s had for almost four standard republic years now. It was his phase 1 helmet which he had modified with phase 2 pieces. Rex had welded the two models together himself.

He'd gotten way to attached to it over the years. And now it was gone forever…

Omega must have noticed that Rex was eyeing the helmet in Hunters hands, because she got up and disappeared through the bulkhead door. She emerged a second later with a different helmet in her own hands.

No, it wasn’t just any helmet.

He had only seen in from the corner of his eye but now that he looked at it more closely, he could make out all too familiar markings. The tally marks on both sides of the dome and the welding marks along the mouthpiece and filters.

And most importantly the two Jaig eyes centered on the dome.

It was his helmet.

“H—how?” He stuttered as he accepted it from Omega, gloved fingers brushing over the blue paint.

“Well, when we went looking for you, I found it in one of the offices. Someone must have taken it and kept it save.” She replied proudly.

Hunter snapped his head towards her, looking concerned. “When? I told you specifically to stay on the Marauder.”

She looked at the ground, her hands fidgeting. “Well, we—” She started but Gregor jumped in.

“What Omega was about to say, we were concerned…because…you were taking so long. So, we tracked your location. We came across the helmet…and when Echo commed us. We instantly turned around and headed back for the ship.” Gregor defended.

“Is that correct?" Hunter asked, he didn’t sound convinced.

“Yes...” Omega replied. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

But fortunately, Hunter didn’t press any further. Instead, he crouched in front of Omega.

“It’s just that…” Hunter began. “I worry about you. I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.” He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at that and flung her arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she managed to say.

Hunter pulled her in tighter. “It’s alright, kiddo.” He looked relieved.

Echo cleared his throat. Not really the sentimental type, that part hadn’t changed one bit. “That’s great and everything but—” He paused, he looked like he was searching for the right words.

“What’s on your mind?” Rex chimed in.

“Argh, it’s probably nothing…it’s just been on my mind the entire time. Ever since we talked about it.” Echo turned towards Hunter, who nodded once. Understanding what Echo must be referring to. “That thing about the Senior Commander?” Hunter asked.

Echo swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he began. “Thought now that we got some time we might look into it.”

Hunter looked at Tech, then back at Echo. “Yeah, why not.”

Echo sighed audibly. “I can’t explain it, but there’s something off about him. I just can’t wrap my mind around what it is.” He paused again. Hunter walked over and put a hand on Echo’s shoulder.

Rex didn’t know who his brother was referring to, but it looked like Hunter and Tech understood. Whoever it was about, it made Echo uncomfortable, and Rex didn’t like it.

“It’s almost feels like…like I know him. Or better, like I knew him before the purge…” Echo took a deep breath, turning towards Rex now. “There was something oddly familiar about him.”

Echo met Rex’s gaze then, and Rex saw something flash behind those hazel eyes. Guilt, pain but also recognition. Though Echo didn’t seem to be able to place it.

After a couple moments of silence Hunter spoke. “Well, it isn’t unlikely that you knew him. He’s a clone after all, maybe you fought with him before –“

But Echo cut him off, not satisfied with Hunters approach. “No! That’s not what I mean…” he began with a troubled look on his face. “It’s more like I knew him. Like…like really knew him, ya know? Not just passed him in the halls, but…” He trailed off.

No one spoke but they understood what Echo meant. Whoever Echo was referring to, it was possible that they had worked with Rex as well. It got him thinking.

He froze. “Cody?” Rex said to himself. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

He looked at Echo in anticipation. “No, I don’t think it was him, Rex.”

Rex swallowed hard, he had hoped they knew where his vod might be. If Cody was even still… It had been a mistake to get his hopes up in the first place.

“Tech,” Echo continued. “You said you recovered some files from the command bridge, right?”

“Affirmative—”

“Good,” Echo cut him off. “Find anything you can on that Senior Commander. I’d like to know who we’re dealing with. Because I have a bad feeling that this might not have been the last that time that our paths will cross.”

Tech nodded. “I can try but I wouldn’t know where to begin my search. There must be hundreds of Commanders in the imperial army,” he got out his datapad, scrolling the data. “I needed something a little more specific.”

“Well, there’s something,” Hunter chimed in scratching his chin. “I remember overhearing the Commander telling the deck officers to prepare his shuttle. He was headed for…Coruscant, if I remember correctly. You could start there.” He suggested.

Echo nodded in agreement. “You can check flight logs. It should have probably already been logged in the system when you pulled the data.”

“Echo,” Tech looked up from his datapad as he spoke. “I could use some assistance with decrypting the data.”

“On it.”

Hunter turned to face them all, crossing his arms. “Alright, it’s settled then,” he said. “We’ll inform you whenif there's any new developments or if Cid contacts us. We’ve ignored her for way to long.”

Tech and Echo nodded as they left the cockpit.

“Hunter?” Rex asked.

“Yeah?”

“I think I might have lost track of time” Rex began. “How long has it been since my transmission?”

“Around five rotations. There were some…complications,” Hunter responded, looking disappointed in himself. “Sorry, we couldn’t rescue you any sooner…”

“Hey, don’t do that. I am grateful you came, “ Rex replied. “After all you risked your life for us, I owe you one.”

It wasn’t the Clone Force 99’s fault, and five rotations weren’t that long either. Rex had expected it had been far longer than that. He’d also must have spent about half of it unconscious.

Gregor and himself had been caught about a day after they send the transmission to Hunter’s squad. Echo had warned them that it might take a while. Hyperspace travel was fast, but it still takes time to get from one system to the next. And Serenno wasn’t exactly in the neighboring sector either.

“Where are we headed for anyway?” Rex asked a moment later.

Omega was the one to respond this time. “I believe Echo set course for Ord Mantell. We’ll be visiting an ally there,” she said. “Cid’s really nice. She helped us out a lot. We’ll be stuck in hyperspace for around eight days though.”

Rex could see Wrecker nodding in agreement. Hunter was frowning, he probably didn’t feel the same sentiment as the other two. Rex didn’t know who this allay was, so he didn’t question it any further. They must know what they're doing. Hopefully, that is.

He just hoped there wouldn't come across any more complications on the way to Ord Mantell. After all, it wasn’t a system Rex was familiar with.

They spent the next couple days in hyperspace.

It had been mostly quiet. Rex like that, gave him time to think. Him and Gregor caught up on some well needed rest too. The Commando also joined in on a couple rounds of Sabacc while Rex just watch or discussed strategies with Hunter.

Tech and Echo still hadn’t found out much on the Senior Commander. He was like a ghost. The only thing they could find was his designation: CC-1467. Rex couldn’t make any sense of it. He’d never heard that number before. There were millions of clones out there. This could be anyone.

Echo believes he might know this Senior Commander, and that got Rex thinking. Of course, it’s plausible that the clone used to have a different designation—before he worked his way up to Senior Commander—but they couldn’t be sure.

Rex headed for the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot's seat.

Ever since seeing Wolffe again he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him and all the brothers that were forced into submission by the chips the Kaminiies had planted inside of them. All their lives they’d been living with a ticking time bomb in their heads, and they hadn’t even know. Most probably still didn’t.

If not for Fives’ warnings…Rex would have probably followed through with the order himself. He almost had. He still remembers the confused and frightened look on Ahsoka’s face when he had leveled his pistols at her. Rex just whished he could have saved more brothers.

Sure, Rex had been able to save Nemec, Samson, Fireball and Greer. They were probably still back on Teth trying to built the Clone Underground out of nothing.

Gregor and him had been getting supplies from Lothal when they got captured. Rex should probably send a transmission to the others. They probably think him and Gregor are already dead, since they haven’t heard from them in five rotations.

He’d talk to Gregor about it.

His brother was currently passed out on one of the bunks. Probably snoring loudly. Meanwhile, Rex wandered deeper in thought. Recalling all the vode he’s lost during the war. Denal, Hardcase, Waxer, Dogma, Tup, Fives, Kix, Ridge and lastly Jesse.

The ones he felt responsible for. The brothers he had failed, most of all. Especially Fives. If he had only believed his brother when he had spoken the truth all those months ago. Maybe all of this could have been prevented…

Rex didn’t remember when he had dozed off, but he suddenly got shaken out of sleep. He almost smashed into the dashboard, but he caught himself just in time.

What the kriff had happened?

He looked around the cockpit, confused. By the looks of it he wasn’t the only one.

“Hunter? What is going on?” Omega asked. She had been asleep as well. She was standing in the door holding onto the Tooka doll. Eyes half lidded and voice gravely from sleep.

“I’m not sure,” Hunter replied, spinning around in the pilot's seat to face her.

He was rubbing his forehead. He had probably just hit his head on the dashboard in front of him. “We were in Hyperspace just a second ago. We weren’t supposed to get to Ord Mantell for at least another twenty-nine hours.”

That was strange. Rex suddenly remembered the strange noises that had originated from the engines and hyperdrive as they had jumped. Rex had reminded them multiple times that they should look into that. But they hadn’t, kriffing perfect.

Tech entered the room, datapad already in hand. “I presume that the hyperdrives has had a minor malfunction. We were aware of the problem, but we decided to ignore it regardless,” Tech explained. “Now, we must face the consequences of our ignorance.”

He sounded more annoyed than concerned. That was a first.

“We should have fixed it sooner,” Echo added as he stormed in through the bulkhead door. “We shouldn’t have left it up to chance…” He headed towards the main control panel and inserted his scomp link.

All of them stared at Echo in anticipation.

“Damage report.” Hunter ordered.

“So,” Echo began. “Do you want the bad news, or the really bad news?” He asked after a moment or two.

That didn’t sound reassuring at all.

Echo didn’t get an answer, didn’t need to. Rex assumed the others must be as equal afraid of the explanation. The six of them were now standing in a semi-circle around Echo waiting for the damage report.

“I’ll start with the bad news then,” he took a deep breath. “Tech’s correct. Unfortunately, the hyperdrive is busted. We have to touch down somewhere in order to fix it.”

“But our abrupt exit out of hyperspace did not only damage the hyperdrive but it also drained most of our fuel.” Echo paused. “Meaning if we don’t refuel and get the hyperdrive fixed, we’ll be drifting in dead space soon.”

Rex swallowed hard. It was somehow worse than he had imagined. “What’s the nearest inhabited system with a large enough spaceport?” He asked nervously. Rex knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“That’s the really bad news,” Echo continued. “Fortunately, we stranded near the core. But, the closest system would be…” Echo swallowed hard. “…Coruscant.”

Kriff.

“We barely have enough fuel to reach it as it is,” Hunter said looking at each of them in turn. “I wish I wouldn’t have to say this, but I presume we have no other choice. Our alternative would be drifting through dead space as our oxygen slowly depletes and we suffocate.”

The alternative sounded even worse. They didn’t really have a choice. But Rex knew they’d come to regret it. Because before the Empire, Coruscant had been the heart of the Republic.

Rex presumes that this most likely hadn’t changed since the Republic fell and the Empire rose to power. They were headed straight for the belly of the beast. It was about the worst place they could head too. They were fugitives and enemies of the Empire; there was no way this was gonna go well for them.

But what other choice did they have?

Hunter sighed before crossing his arms. “Alright, I’m setting course for Coruscant. Let’s hope luck is on our side today.”

Unfortunately, they’ll need more than just luck. Because Rex was sure that this was not going to go well. He was already preparing himself for the worst-case scenario.