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jgvfhl · 2 years

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Two Wrongs Make A Right: Part 2

Alllllrighty well this is the second part of a blurb I posted in like... what January? February? Where Domino Squad aggressively befriends the Bad Batch, bc I think it's nice. Here is the link to Part 1!

Words: ~8890

Summary: Domino Squad is put to the test yet again, but this time the stakes are considerably higher.

Warnings: If you don't like thinking about that scene where Ventress chokes Colt, then you might want to skip a small portion of a scene. Obviously, I hate it too, so I fix it before anything horrendous happens, but just thought I'd mention it.

Echo sat back on his heels and started packing up his tools. This pesky holotable was finally functional with the new software and security updates, and he was finally done for the day. As he stood and made for the door, the lights went out. Before a coherent thought could form in reaction, the emergency red lights came on and in the distance, he heard Kamino's attack siren.

Well, fierfek.

He opened the door and looked carefully, his neck prickling as adrenaline started pumping through him. Maintenance or not, he was a trained soldier. The hall was a flurry of activity--an odd sight for this part of Tipoca City. Clones and Kaminoans rushed by, orders flying fast through the air. Something about the main hangars under attack, and getting all the junior cadets to the barracks.

Echo's stomach dropped. Fives and Droidbait had been assigned to the main hangars today. Dropping his toolbox, he took off towards the hangars, against the flow of people down the hall.

As he rounded a corner, he side-stepped someone in his path purely on reflex. He was about to keep running when the person grabbed his arm.

"Echo!"

After taking two seconds to register their face, he grabbed their arm in return. "Hevy," he said. "How'd you get here so fast? You were in the range--"

"The trainer there got wind of the assault before the lights cut," his batchmate explained, pulling Echo along. "I split off to find you when we evacuated."

Echo pulled back. "Fives and 'Bait are in the hangars today," he argued. "Right where the main attack started."

Hevy nodded, his face set grimly. "Yeah, and the five-oh-first and Commander Havoc are with them. We have to go."

“The five-oh-first are here?” he couldn’t help but ask as he let his batchmate drag him back down the halls, aiming for a shortcut they’d learned from Ninety-Nine. “Did they come for the attack?”

Hevy shrugged. “Dunno. I didn’t hear much aside from Commander Havoc mentioning Captain Rex and General Skywalker.” He pulled them up short at an intersection. “Sithspit, which way is it, again? To the barracks.”

Echo looked both ways. He hadn’t used this shortcut by himself yet either, only with Ninety-Nine as a guide. The red-lit walls were all identical. “I… don’t remember.”

“Okay, well.” Hevy looked both ways again. “Here’s hoping we’re not supposed to die yet.” He grabbed Echo’s arm again and went left.

-scene break-

Droidbait had never imagined his first battle would happen on Kamino, with him completely unarmed and unarmored. He was absolutely terrified. The only things keeping him from freezing up were the steady stream of orders from Commander Havoc, and the quieter remarks from Fives beside him, grounding him. Thus far, they had been helping Ninety-Nine distribute new weapons as the older clone ran trips back and forth to nearby armories. Fives had been adamant that he shouldn’t get closer than that.

At least he and Fives had training for this, he argued. Droidbait knew he was just scared.

Another massive strike shook the hangar as yet another mechanical beak from one of the … squid droids (?) pierced the ceiling. Another squadron of droids dropped out of it, red eyes blinking to life as they opened fire.

“We don’t have enough firepower,” Droidbait told Fives, casting an eye around the hangar.

“Then we’ll go out blasting if nothing else,” Fives replied, handing off the last rifle in his arms to a trooper running by.

Over his shoulder, Droidbait caught sight of a pair of droids detached from their squadron and creeping up the side. He grabbed his batchmate’s shoulders and yanked them both flat to the floor behind some crates. Two red blaster bolts slammed into the crates in front of them.

Before they had a chance to process the brush with death, they heard someone shout for transport. Ninety-Nine was back, appearing seemingly out of nowhere in the chaos, and limping towards the call’s origin.

“Ninety-Nine!” Fives yelled. “Don’t!”

Droidbait let out an “oof” as Fives scrambled to his feet to go after their friend, his knee landing in Droidbait’s side as he stood. He grabbed Ninety-Nine and dragged him back to their cover, planting him next to Droidbait.

“Fives–”

“Not happening,” Fives snapped. “You want to help, you can still hand out weapons, but transport is not your place right now.” Turning to Droidbait, he added, “Watch my six, yeah?”

“What?” He shouldn’t have been surprised when Fives took off running through the haze of blaster fire. But it was still horrifying. “Fives!” he cried, raising his head as high over the crates as he dared to watch him.

The cry for transport had come from Commander Havoc, who was crouched over a fallen trooper, alone. Fives ran to them, skidding to his knees to grab the trooper on the ground. Droidbait saw the commander do a double take at Fives’ uniform, but Fives was on a mission–for once Droidbait was grateful for Fives’ laser-like focus on the task at hand.

He missed the next few seconds because Ninety-Nine grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down just as more blaster fire whizzed overhead. “Thanks,” he breathed, and Ninety-Nine nodded. In a second, he was peeking out again, searching the ever-changing battlefield for his batchmate.

“‘Bait!” His name drew his eyes to Fives in a flash. “The commander!”

Commander Havoc was down–but not unmoving.

Oh, Maker help him, he had to go out there.

Sending a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that his name wouldn’t be his undoing, Droidbait took a breath and darted out from around the crates towards Fives. The old lessons from being a cadet scrolled through his mind. Keep your head down, keep your feet moving, keep your eyes sharp. A trooper crashed to the ground as he passed, nearly jolting him out of his focus.

When he reached his brother, Commander Havoc was trying to sit back up. Droidbait shoved him down roughly as more red bolts shot by. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered.

“We’re pinned down here,” Fives growled. Then his eyes landed on the pistol hanging from the commander’s belt. Without more hesitation, he grabbed it and turned it on the advancing droids.

“Fives–” Droidbait hissed. He knew Fives, Cutup, and Crosshair had been making more time to spend at the range, but now was not the time to test those new skills!

“Get the commander out!” his brother told him, shooting down two of the droids. It wasn’t with the trained elegance or efficiency seen in the higher ranking troopers, but the bolts did the job.

“Don’t–” Commander Havoc’s rebuttal was cut off by a grunt of pain when Droidbait grabbed him under the arms and started dragging him towards the back of the hangar.

“Sorry, sir, we’re not really known for following orders,” he said. “And we don’t leave men behind when they can be saved.”

-scene break-

Going left had been the wrong choice. Hevy realized that now, of course, after he had gotten himself and Echo thoroughly turned around on their journey back to the barracks. They’d managed to find their way back to roughly where they had been before, but as they rounded a corner, this time confidently in the correct direction, the unmistakable sound of clanking footsteps reached their ears.

“Oh come on–” Echo hissed as they turned back to plaster themselves flat against the wall.

Across the hall and a little ahead of them, a squad of troopers jogged into place, led by Commander Colt, taking cover around corners until the droids came into view.

“They’re covering, we can go for it,” Echo said, nudging Hevy’s back.

Hevy’s reply was cut off by the sound of blasters firing. For a moment, it was only metal hitting the ground. He risked a glance around the corner, and saw about half the droids on the ground, and only a couple troopers down. But the tables turned quickly. In only a few seconds, Commander Colt was the only man left standing. Something cold settled in his stomach as he looked over the dead clones.

The remaining droids fell quickly under the commander’s precise fire. For a second, there was quiet, until more metallic footsteps sounded, and a second squad of droids appeared where the first had fallen. He looked at the commander, who hadn’t moved or seemed to notice them as onlookers.

“The commander’s alone,” Hevy said. “We can help–”

“He’s a commander–”

“Grab the blasters from the men down, at least we can cover for him for a retreat.”

“Hevy!”

He ignored his batchmate’s protests. He saw the commander step out for a last stand, and dashed for the nearest blaster on the ground. It was nothing compared to the Z-6 he missed so much, but it would do. As he dropped to one knee and lifted the blaster, he was vaguely aware of Echo muttering a stream of quiet curses as he ran to another blaster and did the same. The first line of droids went down easily, but the second and beyond were difficult. While Domino had completed basic training, they were still, well, shiny. Or as shiny as one can be without new armor. This was the first live fire Hevy or Echo had ever seen, and while Commander Colt stood firm ahead of them, sometimes literally dodging bolts, he couldn’t deny the chill of fear accompanying the adrenaline pumping through his system right now.

What Hevy wouldn’t give for a thermal detonator about now…

As if someone had answered his prayer, his eye caught motion at the droids’ feet, recognizing the blinking red light instantly.

“Grenade!” he yelled, just as he had been taught. Echo and Commander Colt did as they had been taught, with Echo diving back around the corner from which he and Hevy had come, and the commander doing likewise across the hall. Hevy scrambled after him.

The explosion sent a wave of heat and shrapnel down the hall past their cover, lighting up the dimly lit corridor for a brief moment. It smelled sharp and tangy–not quite like blood, but not dissimilar. But as soon as it was over, the commander was back out, picking off the last of the droids with practiced ease.

Hevy had set one foot around the corner when the commander’s hand flew to his throat. He watched in horror as the commander’s boots lifted off the floor, his blaster falling from his hand as he clawed at the invisible thing tightening around his neck. And the sounds–

A slim figure emerged from the direction the droids had come, one hand held aloft towards Commander Colt, holding him in the air. Ventress. Hevy had never seen her before, but he was pretty sure he could tell the difference between the cyborg and the witch, and she was the witch. Her pale skin reflected the red emergency lighting, lines of ink on her face standing out even darker in the red glow. There was a chill thrumming in the air around her unlike anything he had ever felt, and it made his skin crawl.

Hevy wanted to run. The humanity in him was screaming and yelling for him to grab Echo and run as fast as he could away from her, but his feet just wouldn’t move. He couldn’t look away, even when the commander’s struggles grew weaker and his noises grew fainter, he just couldn’t take his eyes off them.

And then a curious thing happened. Something dropped out of the ceiling just behind Ventress’s back, but before it even hit the floor, it erupted into a shower of electrical power. Little bolts of electricity arched to Ventress, her body jolting at the sudden assault, breaking her focus just enough to free the commander.

The instant Commander Colt started falling–maybe half a second before then, even–someone charged out from an unseen corridor behind Ventress and shoved her roughly into the wall before grabbing the commander just as his boots touched the floor.

“Go, Tech, go!”

“Wrecker?” Hevy called, finally registering that the person was about seven feet tall and heavily armored.

A ceiling panel fell to the floor, and Tech dropped out head first and rolled to his feet, then sprinted after Wrecker. “Hevy, Echo, let’s go!” he called. He and Wrecker didn’t even slow down, and Hevy caught Echo’s eye across the hall.

A ragged scream from Ventress was all the convincing they needed, and they took off after the other two.

-scene break-

“We’re running low on ammo,” Cutup remarked quietly so the motion didn’t jostle his scope too much.

“Yep,” Crosshair agreed. After a beat, he fired twice, and two droids on the bridge fell. “Then again, this isn’t exactly an ideal perch,” he added.

“We could go grab some ammo for you,” one of the 501st troopers next to them offered. They’d been assigned sniper positions by Commander Havoc, but after Cutup and Crosshair found them on their way to the hangar, they’d taken over. After a few shots, whatever protests they had been trying to conjure vanished. Cutup hadn’t even learned their names yet.

“Correction,” his buddy added. “You could go grab some ammo.” This second trooper, the one with a Republic cog on his bucket, had taken a hit to the shoulder while getting into position.

Luckily, they didn’t have to make the decision. A beat later, Ninety-Nine came running up to them, a pack slung over one shoulder. “I brought some ammo for you boys,” he announced, kneeling beside Crosshair and setting the pack down.

“Thanks, Ninety-Nine,” Cutup replied, moving to his hands and knees to get to him.

“Is there a better position than this?” Crosshair asked, reloading his rifle without a glance. “Higher?”

“Yeah, I think I know a place,” Ninety-Nine nodded, handing ammo packs over to them.

Whatever the older clone had been about to add was interrupted by the uninjured trooper pointing in the direction Ninety-Nine had come and barking, “Incoming!”

“Use the thermos,” his injured companion said, pointing at Ninety-Nine’s pack.

Cutup reached over Crosshair’s back to grab one. The detonation button clicked when he primed it, and he waited just enough to see the silhouettes of battle droids through the smoke from the bridge below, then he tossed the device at their feet. They all crumpled in the following explosion.

“Nice shot, Cutup,” Ninety-Nine smiled. “Here, follow me, I’ll show you the spot I’m thinking of.”

The four of them got to their feet to follow him, then Crosshair grabbed Ninety-Nine’s shoulder and pulled him back. “There’s more of them,” he warned, looking towards the cloud of smoke left from the detonator.

Everyone with a weapon raised it, poised to shoot.

But the shadows coming through the smoke were much too short to be droids.

“Cadets?” Cutup asked, lowering his rifle.

“What the hell are you boys doing here?” the uninjured trooper demanded.

“We got separated,” the first cadet explained, looking more than a little shaken.

“Where were you headed?” Cutup asked.

“The barracks, that’s where our trainer said to go.”

Cutup looked to Ninety-Nine. “We know a shortcut, don’t we?”

The older clone nodded. “Sure do. Come on.”

As they started to leave, hugging the wall away from the droids’ blaster fire, the two 501st troopers hung back. “We have to rejoin our platoon,” the uninjured one explained, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “And probably get him to our medic, if we can,” he added.

Cutup nodded. “Safe travels, then.” As the two groups turned to go their separate ways, he bumped Crosshair’s arm. “Have you heard anything from the others yet?”

The sniper shook his head. “I was just about to comm them.” He raised his vambrace and pressed a couple buttons, then waited. After a few seconds, Tech’s voice came through. It sounded like he was running.

“Tech here,” he said. “Status: running for our lives from an angry witch.”

“You found Ventress?” Crosshair asked.

“Hevy and Echo found her first,” his brother replied, and Cutup’s heart stuttered a beat.

“Are they okay?” he blurted.

“Oh, they’re fine–” Tech said, pausing to breathe. “Running with us. And Commander Colt, but he’s not running.”

“I’ll ask what that means later, I think,” Crosshair said. “We’re heading to the junior cadet barracks. See if you can meet us there. I’ll comm Hunter and tell him the same.”

“Got it. We’ll do our best to get there.” The comm clicked off, and without pause Crosshair dialed up Hunter next.

“What’s it looking like, Cross?”

“Tech and Wrecker found Hevy and Echo, and Commander Colt, apparently, but they’re also running for their lives from Ventress.”

“They what?”

Cutup relaxed slightly when he heard his own batchmate’s voice. “Hi, Fives.”

“Hey, Cut. Could you elaborate on the part where they’re being chased by a very scary evil witch lady?” Fives replied.

“Sorry, Tech didn’t give many details. Is Droidbait there?”

“Yep, we’re all fine,” came Droidbait’s answer. “Where are you headed?”

“We’re escorting a squad of cadets back to the juniors’ barracks,” Crosshair explained. “Tech says they’ll try to meet us there.”

“Better hurry,” Hunter said. “I heard the clankers were almost to the barracks.”

“Will do,” Crosshair answered, looking to Ninety-Nine, who nodded back.

-scene break-

The barracks were under the same red emergency lighting as the rest of Kamino, and after the firefight he and Droidbait had already survived, Fives was really starting to hate the eerie look it gave the place. He, Hunter, and Droidbait arrived–following Crosshair’s locator from Hunter’s comm–to find the whole group gathered at one end of the barracks. Cutup was sitting on one of the benches under the sleeping pods, chatting with some of the cadets, probably trying to cheer them up, if he knew Cutup.

He was a little surprised to find Ninety-Nine there, but relief soon took over, because at least he wouldn’t be on the front lines here. As soon as the three of them came into the little alcove, Cutup got up and grabbed Fives and Droidbait in a hug.

For the moment, Fives just let himself enjoy it. He watched Hunter find Crosshair and pull their foreheads together. When Cutup finally released them both, his smile was infectious.

“How’s this for a first field day, huh?” he said as cheerfully as he could.

“Sure is something,” Fives agreed, looking around at the cadets. “Where’d these guys come from?”

“We got separated from our training block, sir,” one of them said quietly. Most of them were huddled together in twos and threes, which was understandable for what they’d been through.

He sat down on the bench, and Cutup and Droidbait soon joined him. “Don’t worry about sirs, kid,” he said. “We’re just maintenance crew.”

“What are we supposed to do?” another cadet asked, his longer-than-regulation curls bouncing with the emotion of his outburst. “We’re not trained!”

“What do you mean, you’re not trained?” Cutup frowned. “You’re what–five standard? Six?” The cadets nodded at him. “So you’ve started your firearms training. You’ve held a blaster, at least. You know how they work, aye?”

“Yeah, but…” the same cadet started. He trailed off.

“But what?” Fives said. “We’re all one and same, right? Same face, same blood.”

“We’re soldiers,” Droidbait told them. “Meant to be.”

“We’ll give any clankers who mess with us a run for their credits,” he finished. “We’ll make ‘em think twice about coming to our planet and trying to destroy our home, yeah?”

The cadets had perked up noticeably, some even with small smiles on their young faces. There wasn’t much time to savor the moment, however, because a clatter of footsteps came from the door, and everyone jumped to their feet. Crosshair and Cutup leveled their rifles at the noise while Fives, Cutup, and Droidbait helped Ninety-Nine herd the cadets away from the open corridors on either side of the sleeping pod towers.

But they recognized Tech’s voice when he called, “Hold your fire! It’s just us.” He sounded winded, and it took a lot to get clones like that.

Tech, Wrecker, Hevy, and Echo appeared at the other end of the barracks and made their way over, looking like they’d just run around all of Tipoca City twice–and perhaps that wasn’t far off. But they were all here. Just like Cutup had done for him and Droidbait, Fives came forward and let Echo practically fall against him, exhausted. Hevy did the same, and Cutup and Droidbait wrapped their arms around as much of them as they could reach.

“Glad you’re okay, you two,” Fives said.

Echo made some nonverbal response, too tired for words. Hevy sighed. “Yeah. It got close.”

When they stepped apart (although Echo was still leaning heavily on Fives), Wrecker had set down Commander Colt on the floor, propped up against the lockers across from the cadets.

“What happened to him?” Fives asked.

“Ventress,” Hevy answered.

“I am awake, so you know,” the commander rasped, startling a few of the cadets.

“Welcome back, sir!” Wrecker said, and it was clear he was smiling under his helmet.

“Isn’t this ironic,” Echo muttered so only Fives could hear it. “He failed us for leaving Droidbait behind, and now we helped save him from being left behind.”

Fives hummed a short note of amusement. It was something, to be sure.

“I hate to be the downer,” Tech said, “but there are droids coming this way. We won’t be safe here for much longer.”

Commander Colt lifted his helmet off and tugged at the collar of his black undersuit. He cast an eye over the cadets across from him. “Then we’ll all be fighting our way out,” he said. “Age or training be damned.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Commander,” a new voice said from the direction of the door. Fives turned, pulling Echo around with him. He had to work to keep his mouth from dropping open.

Captain Rex and Commander Cody walked over and came to stand beside Ninety-Nine and Hunter in the corridor next to the lockers. Captain Rex and Marshall Commander Cody. Holy Force.

Commander Colt smiled, a little strained. “Cody, Rex, what are you two bucketheads doing all the way back here?”

“Clearing the place out,” Captain Rex answered, and Commander Cody nodded. “The clankers are moving this way, and I was going to gather some of my men to put up a fight and stop them here, but if I don’t have to pull them from where they are, it’d be better.”

“So,” Commander Cody said, setting the hand not holding his blaster on his belt, “I’m assuming you four have ample training, yes?” He looked at the Bad Batch expectantly.

Fives tried to ignore the small twinge of annoyance. It made sense, he reasoned. The Bad Batch already had armor, he reminded himself. Plain, dark grey armor, but… they actually looked like they had training. Domino’s blue maintenance uniforms didn’t instill the same confidence in their skillsets.

Hunter, as usual, became the spokesman. “Yessir, we’ve been trained as a specialist squad because of our uh, unique abilities.” He pointed around at his batchmates as he listed them off. “Tech’s our analyst, Wrecker is our demo and weapons expert, Crosshair’s our sniper, and I’m Hunter. A tracker, mostly.”

Cutup snorted quietly. “And a wrangler for the other three.” Hunter couldn’t hide his smile quick enough.

“Sounds impressive. Let’s see how you do.” Commander Colt replaced his helmet and started to stand up. Wrecker grabbed his arm and almost pulled him off the ground while trying to help him up.

“Careful, Wrecker,” Hunter warned.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” the commander said, giving Wrecker a real once-over. Probably rethinking what Hunter had meant by unique abilities. “And how much training do you boys have?” he asked, and Fives found his visor trained on Domino Squad. They were all still clustered roughly together.

Fives caught Cutup’s eye and they shared a brief grin, maybe a bit too obvious, but come on. Commander Colt had been the officer who had landed them here. He’d failed them on their final test, they’d ended up in maintenance, and now here he was, needing their help.

Hevy stood up as tall as he could, a similar smirk struggling to stay hidden on his face. “Commander, we’re fully trained troopers.”

“What?” Fives turned to glance at Captain Rex, who had spoken, but he turned back to the commander to watch his reaction when the whole truth hit.

Cutup nodded. “Aye, we were all set to graduate, but…”

“I’m sure you remember us, sir,” Fives offered. “We’re Domino Squad.”

“We broke rule one,” Droidbait added.

“No man left behind,” Echo finished, still leaning on Fives’ shoulder.

Commander Colt was motionless for a moment, and Fives could feel the captain and the marshall commander’s gazes on them as well. “Domino, huh?” he repeated at length. “Go figure.”

“Is that all they failed on?” Commander Cody asked. “Because we don’t exactly have time on our side, and I’d like to know what I’m dealing with from the start.”

“Yeah,” Commander Colt nodded. “Technically speaking, their skills were up to par. Just the teamwork that was lacking.”

“We’ve gotten better, sir!” Droidbait said quickly.

The commander turned his head to look at him. “You better have. Lives depend on it this time.”

-scene break-

A few moments later, Hevy was jogging down the red-lit corridor with Wrecker, Cutup, Commander Cody, and Captain Rex towards the nearest armory to stock up before the droids arrived. It was a short distance away, but it was only reachable through the halls, so once the clankers showed up, it would be almost impossible to go back. Ninety-Nine probably knew some shortcuts, and Tech apparently had the Tipoca City vent system memorized, so it might be easier than it looked.

“Alright, load up!” the captain ordered when he opened the door.

Oh, so many weapons, so little time. Fortunately, Hevy was rather particular. He made an immediate dash for the nearest rotary canon he saw and hefted it with a grin. “Thing of beauty,” he said to himself, looking around for a shoulder strap to use with it. Normally, he wouldn’t bother, but he needed to carry more than this back to the others. Finding one, he clipped it in place and slung the blaster across his back, somehow feeling lighter with the familiar weight in place.

Across the room, Wrecker was holding a blanket open for Cutup to load with DC-17 blasters for the cadets, and Commander Cody and Captain Rex were grabbing thermals and ammo packs to load into backpacks they’d found in the room.

“Hey, Cut’,” he called. “Do you want more rifles?”

His brother looked up, placing a final blaster into Wrecker’s blanket. “Uh–yeah, one more for safety’s sake, why not?” Pointing to the rack of blaster rifles next to the rotary canons, he said, “One o’ those will do.”

Hevy grabbed one, giving it a once-over to make sure nothing was obviously wrong. “What else can I grab? I’m pretty light still.”

“Here.” Captain Rex dumped a couple of pairs of pistols into a backpack, along with a few droid poppers. “Take that, if you can.”

Hevy grabbed the straps and managed to sling the pack across his front in a reasonably stable position.

“I think we’re set,” the commander said. He and Captain Rex shouldered their backpacks already and moved to the door. “Let’s move, men.”

As they filed out the door, Wrecker’s eyes landed on a case set on the wall and lit up. “Ooh!” He pulled the box open, revealing three vibroblades tucked away inside. Grabbing two of them, he explained, “Hunter likes these.”

And then they were on the move again. Despite the fact that Hevy had just run through half of Tipoca City at a full sprint, he found himself brimming with a restless energy as he thought about the droids getting closer and closer. He was a soldier, dammit, and he’d been cooped up doing maintenance for far too long. He wanted to shoot something.

-scene break-

It was distressingly quiet in the barracks while they waited for the droids to arrive. Echo crouched beside Tech, Cutup stationed somewhere above them in one of the sleeping pods with the cadets. The marshall commander was on the other side of Tech, his comm light blinking green with an open channel between Captain Rex and the other commander. Whoever heard clanking first would alert the group.

Finally, Commander Colt’s voice came through from Commander Cody’s wrist. “Tin-heads incoming.”

“Copy.” The commander crept forward until he could poke his head around the side of the support column. The sound of metallic marching reached their ears. “Alright, boys,” he said in a low voice, turning back to look at them. “Ready for your first firefight?”

“Yessir,” Echo and Tech chorused. Echo didn’t think it had been strictly necessary to point out his and Hevy’s brief stand-off with the droids before Ventress had appeared.

“Tech, are your things set?” the commander asked.

Tech nodded, glancing at a mini holoscreen projected from his vambrace. “Ready on your word, sir.”

The commander turned back to once again peer out from behind their cover, watching and waiting. The clanking grew steadily louder, and Echo thought he heard one of the droids order the rooms searched. A few seconds later, the metallic footsteps were in the room with them.

“Anyone see any clones?” a modulated voice asked aloud.

Echo grinned and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They’d been taught the average B1 battle droid wasn’t exactly programmed for intelligence, but he hadn’t quite expected that.

“Spread out and check,” the same voice (well, maybe it was a different droid, but they all had the same voice.)

About two seconds later, Commander Cody pointed to Tech. “Hit it.”

Tech pressed a button on the holoscreen display. Immediately, a huge crackling sound came from the far end of the barracks as the concealed pile of super-strength droid poppers detonated. There were a few anguished cries from the clankers before the only clanking came from their bodies hitting the ground.

Commander Cody sprang up from behind cover, leveling his blaster at the intruders. “Hey, clankers! Over here!” he called before opening fire.

Echo followed Tech out behind him, raining lasers on the startled droids. Unfortunately, while Tech and Echo were fully trained, the commander had experience on his side. Even with his precise aim, the droids weren’t falling fast enough.

“Fall back!” the commander ordered, and they did, retreating to the next support column.

Echo dared a glance up at the sleeping pods, finding the ones he knew concealed Cutup and the cadets. Still a bit farther to go…

“Echo, grenade!”

Mainly on reflex, he grabbed a grenade from the pack they’d placed here before, hit the primer button, and chucked it at the advancing droids. It went off perfectly, felling four. But more droids had come into the room to replace those already scrapped. Their efforts were making a small dent in their numbers, but they had a ways to go.

“One more!” the commander ordered, but a second detonator was already in Echo’s hands. He started for half a second, surprised at himself, but the commander nodded, and he tossed it out. “Let’s fall back.”

The second blast took out another three or four droids. He hefted the pack of thermos onto his back and darting after Tech as they retreated to the next column. Commander Cody and Tech were barely doing enough to keep the droids in place, even after Echo added his own efforts. But they had to stay put.

Movement off to his left caught his eye, and just in time too.

“They flanked us, sir!” he called, turning his blaster on the few droids coming from the other side of the barracks.

“Finally,” the commander replied. “Cutup, now!”

Several sleeping pods shot out of the wall, each occupied by an armed cadet, with Cutup on the highest perch, training his rifle down on the main body of droids. “Open fire, boys!” he called.

-scene break-

Compared to the combat he'd witnessed in the main hangar with Fives earlier, Droidbait decided he much preferred fighting when he had a blaster and several other people around, also with blasters. He still wished he had some armor, though. Fives, honestly, might have been having a little too much fun, if his nearly unwavering grin was anything to go by. He and Droidbait were following Captain Rex's orders as the droids poured in from the hallway after Fives had volunteered to draw them in (wasn't that supposed to be his job?).

“Keep ‘em busy, boys, that’s it,” the captain said, raising his voice above the blaster fire.

They were set up next to one of the support columns and behind a blockade made of the crates each cadet was issued to keep belongings other than armor and weapons. They weren’t completely laser-proof, but they were doing enough at the moment. Captain Rex was the only one standing, close enough to the column so he could use it for cover. Droidbait and Fives were on their knees beside him. He could tell Fives was literally having the time of his life: he’d seen his batchmate’s face when the captain and Commander Cody had appeared.

“Are the other two in position yet?” Droidbait said so just Fives could hear. He knew Hunter and Crosshair would signal the captain when they were ready, but he didn’t like how many droids were marching through the barracks door.

As if the captain had heard him, he said, “They’re set.” He paused shooting just long enough to open a comm channel, and Fives took the momentary lull to toss a thermal detonator into the clump of droids to buy time. “Have at ‘em, you two!” Captain Rex ordered into his comm.

A second later, one of the sleeping pods sprang out from the set closest to the door through which the droids had entered, now a few feet behind them. Crosshair took another second to line up his rifle, then droids started dropping like flies with every bolt. Hunter appeared soon after, also behind the group of droids. He slammed his hand into the door controls, blocking any droids from joining in from the hall, then drew a vibroblade and ran head-long towards the backs of the droids.

“Help ‘em out, boys,” the captain said, aiming his pistols once more.

“Yessir!” Fives said with a smile, and Droidbait found he was smiling along as he raised his blaster as well.

-scene break-

Cutup and the cadets worked together to hold the main force of droids in place. While they were busy, Commander Cody charged past Echo and Tech towards the droids that had broken off of the main force. Two he shot down as he ran, then he dropped to his knees and slid a few feet into the midst of the other three clankers.

“What the–!” one of them exclaimed before its next words were cut off by the marshall commander springing to his feet and slamming its face into the lockers.

He lashed out at the second with a magnificent side kick that momentarily stunned the droid as it careened into the other wall of lockers with a crunch. The third droid was practically rattling from nerves, but it still raised its blaster, only to be met with a point-blank shot between the eyes. The first droid–the one originally slammed into the lockers–received similar treatment, as did the second.

“Wow.” Echo glanced at Tech, expecting more words, but the normally verbose trooper didn’t have any more.

“What’s left?” Commander Cody asked, returning to them.

“None, sir!” Cutup called down. “These lads made their decanting vats proud today.”

The cadets cheered briefly, beaming down at the commander. He nodded at them.

A final sleeping pod slid open, and Ninety-Nine stuck his head out to survey the damage. He smiled at them. “Well done, boys.”

Tech lifted his helmet’s visor and turned to Echo. “This was fun,” he said.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. Now that the room was quiet again, they could all hear sounds of battle from the hallway, as well as Wrecker’s delighted laughter. “Sounds like they feel the same.”

-scene break-

Wrecker was almost disappointed there weren’t more droids to take down. When he, Hevy, and Commander Colt had first heard them approaching, he hadn’t bothered to contain the buzzing anticipation in his body. Finally, a chance to scrap some real droids!

Commander Colt had raised his blaster. “Steady on, you two.”

People were always saying that to him. Hevy’s tiny eye-roll and smirk had told him he probably got the same. But they stayed put. He already knew Hevy had his own baggage in not following orders, and Wrecker was fairly used to waiting for Hunter or Tech to point him in the best direction.

Several minutes of fighting later, the droids were right where they wanted them. Through taunting and carefully restrained destruction (something Wrecker didn’t believe actually worked until it did), the two dozen or so left were stuck between the two barracks, framed between the two doors on either side of the hall.

“There are only three of them!” one of the droids in front said. “How hard can it be!”

Wrecker laughed. Come on, he counted for at least three guys. His eye picked out Commander Cody and Captain Rex poking their heads out of the far doors to each barracks room, giving the signal they had cleared their rooms.

Commander Colt nodded, then they all ducked back behind the makeshift cover they’d built across the hall. It was largely a pile of empty supply crates from the armory, plus some of the mattresses from the barracks. They were surprisingly good for shoring up a blockade.

“Alright, the barracks are clear,” he said. “There’s only a few left, what do you boys say to giving them all we’ve got?”

“Sir yes sir!” Hevy grinned, reloading his rotary canon.

“Pulverize ‘em!” Wrecker added, clenching his fist.

“Thought so,” the commander said. “Three, two, one… go!”

As a unit, they stood and hurled themselves at the intruders. The commander stopped about half-way to the enemy, but he and Hevy just kept running. He saw Hevy bludgeon one droid with his Z-6 before cranking it up and mowing down the ones closing in on him. Good for him.

Wrecker preferred using himself as a bludgeon, so he did. Liberally.

He used his blaster to smack the first two droids he came across, then grabbed on of them by the arm as it fell, and used its limp metal body to bash the next few, occasionally pausing to shoot at the ones getting too close for comfort. Now this was having fun!

By the time there was only one droid left, the other clones had gathered in the doorways to watch.

“I’ll never surrender, Republic dogs!” the droid croaked, sounding scared even for a machine. Go figure, they actually had some sense of self-preservation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too worried,” Hevy said, aiming his Z-6 at the droid.

“We don’t take prisoners,” Wrecker finished with a smile. He lashed out and grabbed the droid by the head, lifting it off its feet.

It squawked and raised its blaster.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, knocking it out of its hands. He held the babbling droid out to Hevy. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks,” Hevy said, and shot it.

-scene break-

“That was awesome!”

“How did you learn to do that?”

“Hunter, Hunter, Hunter, Hunter, will you pleeeeease teach me how to do that with the vibroblades–”

“Wait, wait, what’s this I’m hearing about Fives volunteering to taunt the clankers–”

“--and then Commander Cody just kicked one of them into submission–”

Colt rolled his eyes listening to the slurry of excited conversation between Domino and Clone Force Ninety-Nine. He’d heard it all before, he’d said some of it himself. But it was nice to hear. He left the two squads to their own devices for the moment, exiting Clone Force Ninety-Nine’s quarters–miraculously untouched by the invasion–to meet the other two officers a little ways down the hall.

He approached them in the middle of what sounded like a very typical argument for Rex and Cody.

“Hey, I saw them first,” Rex frowned.

“Yeah, but you’re still a captain,” Cody shot back, an infuriating smile on his face. He must have picked that one up from General Kenobi, because Colt didn’t remember him using it as a cadet. “So I get first dibs.”

“Oh, come on, Cody!”

They broke off when they noticed him.

“Hey, Colt.”

“Hey, Cody.”

Rex very suddenly shoved Cody to the side and blurted, “Sir, can I have Domino?”

“No!” his unofficial older brother yelled, grabbing his arm and attempting to grapple him. “I wanted Echo, you little bastard!”

“How do you two get anything done on joint missions?” Colt asked, taking his helmet off and pinching between his eyes.

“Gentlemen, is there an issue?”

All three of them straightened to attention when they recognized General Ti’s voice. How that woman could sneak up on anyone being over six feet tall, Colt still did not understand.

"Uh–no, sir–ma'am," Rex said while saluting.

"We were just… talking about a squad of maintenance clones Colt found," Cody added.

General Ti raised a brow and glanced at him. "And this squad… it wouldn't happen to be Domino Squad, would it?"

Colt restrained a smile as Cody and Rex's eyes narrowed and they exchanged a curious look. Finally, Cody admitted, "Yes… it is."

"They were discussing which of them would recruit Domino," he told the general. "Which I believe we should discuss, ma’am. They showed some real improvement today.”

She smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up. “Wonderful! I would be more than happy to discuss where to place them, Commander.”

“What about the other four, ma’am?” Cody asked. “Ninety-Nine’s boys?”

“Pretty sure they’re all his,” Rex said quietly, maybe with a hint of something jealous.

The general nodded. “Clone Force Ninety-Nine is a specialty squad, yes.”

Cody nodded, shifting on his feet slightly. “So they’re… not for the offering?”

“Cody!” Rex bristled, only managing at the last second to rein in his voice so he didn’t sound completely like a whiny little brother.

“What?”

Colt looked at General Ti and raised an eyebrow at her. See what I deal with? She smiled again, and stepped forward. Rex and Cody immediately dropped their argument.

“I’m afraid Clone Force Ninety-Nine has not been cleared for the field yet,” she said. “Nala Se still has some reservations about them. But,” she turned to Colt, “perhaps an account of the accomplishments of both squads today would help change her mind.”

He nodded. “Considering some of those boys managed to save me from Ventress, I’ll be happy to inform the good doctor.”

The general’s expression crunched in concern briefly, before returning to careful neutrality. “That does sound like a story worth hearing,” she said finally. “I will make the necessary arrangements as long as you both notify your generals.”

Cody and Rex nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Colt smiled. They probably wouldn’t like the solution they found, but he had a feeling he would.

-scene break-

It had been about two days since the Battle of Kamino, and for the most part, any able-bodied clone in the city had been involved in clean-up and repair efforts. Domino Squad had been in the thick of it–though they had been spared the forrays to retrieve the dead. Still, Hevy couldn’t erase the memories of the Kamino Guards carrying body after body after body down the halls. It made his skin crawl.

They hadn’t had much time to spend with the Bad Batch either. Tipoca City was a big place, and with one of the incubation chambers nearly destroyed, there was a lot of work to do. Domino was usually too exhausted to plan a visit, and the other four must have been busy somewhere else, because they didn’t stop by.

But it had felt so good to actually fight. Hevy could tell he wasn’t the only one among them coasting on that high. He’d honestly thought he’d never get a chance to wield a Z-6 again, but he had, and it had been glorious.

The morning of the third day since the battle, Domino awoke to their own internal chronometers as they always did. Echo was the first in the ‘fresher, followed by Droidbait, as usual. Fives and Cutup always took a bit longer to get up, and Hevy liked to get in some stretches before actually starting his day.

Echo emerged from the ‘fresher, dressed and fully awake, and plopped down on his bunk below Droidbait’s. “Morning.”

“Mmph,” said the lump in Cutup’s bunk.

“Morning already?” mumbled the lump in Fives’, below.

Echo rolled his eyes and got up so he could plop down a bit heavier onto Fives, who made an “oof” sound as the air was pushed out of his lungs. “Yep,” Echo said. “The planet has once again spun all the way around, Fives.”

“Ugh. Make it don’t do that. Don’t wanna dig through stuff to find stuff again.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Cutup seconded from above. At least he’d rolled over.

Hevy walked over and grabbed a corner of Cutup’s blanket. “C’mon, guys. Time to at least pretend to be conscious.” He tugged at the blanket, and Cutup whined and tugged back.

Echo stood up, grabbed Fives’ pillow, and yanked it out from under his head. “Get up, idiot.”

“Hey–”

Their brother’s protest was cut off by Echo bringing the pillow down onto Fives’ head with a thwump.

“Hey!”

Droidbait came out from the ‘fresher and took in the situation. “Oh, are we beating on Cut and Fives again? Why’d you start without me?”

“No!” Fives quickly extracted himself from the blanket he always managed to cocoon around himself during the night and got to his feet, snatching his pillow back. “Rude,” he grumbled, tossing it on his bunk.

Cutup sat up as well, rubbing his face and scowling. “Right bastards you are, the lot.”

All of their attention was drawn to the door to their barracks room when the unmistakable sound of Wrecker calling their squad name reached them. In seconds, they were all on their feet by their bunks when he came running in and skidded to a halt in front of them. The sounds of footsteps behind him were soon followed by the appearance of Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair, all four of them in their unique black and red fatigues rather than armor.

“Hey, guys!” Wrecker beamed.

“You guys are up early,” Echo remarked, and Hevy knew he wasn’t the only one noticing Hunter and Tech looked a little out of it still.

Hunter shrugged, opened his mouth to speak, but yawned instead. Tech filled in. “Commander Colt got us up early. He said to come get you as soon as we could.”

“All of us?” Fives asked.

Hunter nodded. “Yep. We’ll wait until you get some clothes on, though,” he added, looking to Fives, Cutup, and Hevy, who had yet to change out of the underwear they’d slept in.

“Maybe,” Crosshair added. Unable to resist it, probably.

Domino Squad was ready fast enough to make any CO proud, and less than ten minutes later, the two squads were on their way to the Bad Batch’s quarters. They had to take a different route than before, because of all the damage still under repair. Hevy and Wrecker got lost in some conversation about the massive squid-looking droids the Separatists had used in the assault, because they both agreed they were pretty cool, even if they were terrifying.

Eventually, he heard Echo behind him ask, “Uh… isn’t your room that way?”

Hevy paused, looked around, and saw his batchmate was correct. They should have taken the last right if they were going to their room.

“Not anymore,” Tech said. “We have a new room.”

The group started moving again, and Hevy looked up at Wrecker. “A new room huh? Did you guys outgrow the last one?”

Wrecker grinned. “Yeah, I guess.”

The answer was strange, but not strange enough to warrant more questions. He could already hear Echo and Fives pestering Hunter and Tech about it anyway. He wanted to talk about the giant squid machines more.

A few minutes of walking later, they arrived at a closed door marked with a number ninety-nine. Hunter stepped forward and turned to face them all.

“Alright, Domino, eyes closed.”

“What?” Echo and Fives asked together.

“Why?” Cutup added.

“Because!” Wrecker answered.

Hevy looked around at his batchmates, then shrugged. “Okay.” He closed his eyes.

He heard the door whoosh open, then felt Wrecker’s big hand on his shoulder, gently urging him to walk forward. There was a little jostling, and he heard Fives and Cutup grumbling under their breaths about it, but eventually, they were signaled to stop.

“Open up,” Hunter said.

Hevy wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, if he was being honest. But there were two things present he certainly was not expecting. His eyes were first drawn to Commander Colt standing not that far away, looking as commander-y as ever with his hands behind his back. Then he heard Droidbait gasp–a good gasp, and as he turned his head to find him, his eye caught something else.

Something shiny.

He stared. There was a storage case in front of him–the kind troopers got to hold their gear, and on top of the case, gleaming and polished and sharp, was a graduation medal.

His head snapped up to look at the commander.

“These–they’re for us?” Echo asked, voicing what they were all hoping was true.

The commander nodded. “You earned them.” He paused to take his helmet off, revealing a small smile. “Congratulations, Domino Squad.” He moved forward, setting his helmet carefully on Hevy’s case. “Usually, you trainers would give these out,” he began, picking up Hevy’s medal. “But I hope you boys don’t mind me doing it as your future trainer.”

“What?” Droidbait squeaked.

The commander’s smile grew a little as he affixed the medal to the front of Hevy’s uniform, then moved on to Cutup. “I had to fight off Captain Rex and Commander Cody for this opportunity. They were more than willing to nab all of you–including you four,” he said, nodding at the Bad Batch. He finished with Cutup’s medal and moved to Echo. “But, after General Ti took my side, they didn’t have much of a chance.”

Hevy’s mind was reeling. He looked down at the medal, then looked up and found Wrecker, who was beaming fit to split his face, and he couldn’t help but smile back. The reality of this moment probably wouldn’t sink in for a while, but right now he would bask in the glow of amazement.

“Besides,” Commander Colt said, now working on Fives’ medal, “you five need more training if you’re going to keep up with Clone Force Ninety-Nine on any missions you might go on.”

“Missions?” Cutup repeated, utterly incredulous.

“If you do well enough.”

Wait– “Sir, you said keeping up with them,” Hevy said, looking between the commander putting on Droidbait’s medal and the small, sly smiles on Hunter and Crosshair’s faces. “Are we–are we gonna train with them?”

Finished with the medals, the commander walked back to retrieve his helmet, then went to stand across from them. “You five have been transferred to Clone Force Ninety-Nine, yes. Go ahead and open your trunks.”

Cutup pounced on his, and Fives and Echo weren’t far behind. Hevy and Droidbait were a bit slower. Hevy still could barely believe this was happening. He slid the lid off the crate and looked inside.

“Oh, hells yes!” Cutup smiled, grabbing a dark grey helmet and holding it up to examine it. It resembled Crosshair’s in most aspects, with modifications favoring a marksman.

Hevy reached in and pulled out a bundle of red and black cloth, unfolding it enough to recognize it as the top half of new fatigues–of his new fatigues.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you your training won’t be easy,” Commander Colt said. “There’s a reason I help train the ARCs, after all. But Ninety-Nine told me on no uncertain terms that you five can do this.”

“We can, sir,” Hevy said. “We won’t take this for granted.” The other four nodded vigorously in confirmation.

The commander gave another small smile and nodded. “Good. Well,” he said, gesturing to the right half of the room, “pick your bunks and get settled in. Your training starts as soon as we’re done putting the city back together.”

Domino gave a mixed chorus of “Yes sirs” and “Thank you, sirs” before the commander put his helmet back on and strode out of the room.

For a beat, there was silence. Then Fives pumped his fist in the air and cheered. “Yes! Thank the kriffing Maker, holy Force.”

His outburst broke the seal, and the Bad Batch swarmed them. Wrecker lunged forward and swept him off the floor in an almost crushing embrace, his loud cheering almost painful in this proximity, but Hevy couldn’t care less. He just cheered along, hugging Cutup and Echo once Wrecker released him.

“We’re kriffing troopers, guys!” Fives crowed.

The end... or maybe it's a beginning? Idk feel free to speculate. @23-bears @darth-void idk who to tag in these things @hazelahhh @theultimatesandwich @soclonely

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liliacamethyst · 10 months

Text

Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head.

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly.

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.”

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.”

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."

"Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.”

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.”

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

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