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deejadabbles · 9 months

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Echo and Comms (Echo x Reader) Chapter Three

Summary: Who could know that a simple night out with your friend would lead to this? A life of danger and the man of your dreams. Echo x Communications Officer Reader (gender neutral). Friends to lovers/star-crossed lovers. A.N: First off I would like say I'm so sorry (!!!) this took so long to get out to anyone interested in this series! If I'm being blunt, I've been feeling rather discouraged over my Echo content. But, I still adore this man and have so many ideas on where to take this series, so, thank you to everyone who shows interest in this story! I appreciate the reblogs and comments so much! Secondly, the emotions of this chapter got away from me and before I knew it I was 3k words deep, so I'm warning you now that this is a heavy chapter, but I promise the sweet reunion and happy times are coming! I promise Word count: 3,814 Songs for listening: What Hurts the Most and Experience . Warnings: mentions and explorations of grief/loss, mentions of drinking as a coping mechanism, very heavy topics in general.

Part One /// Part Two /// Part Three /// [Part Four coming soon]

There was nothing to mourn.

That’s the reality that hit you hardest.

The clones gave everything to the republic, to the people, to the war, and they got nothing in return. You had always known that, of course. The debate of clone rights and personhood was always a raring topic since the start of the war, not that the question of their rights should be a debate at all. You had always known they were dealt a shitty hand in life, but it was never more apparent than now.

Now that there was nothing of your sweet, brave Echo to mourn.

There was no funeral, no last rites, no medals or flags given in his honor, not even a damn word of thanks for his sacrifice. His brothers would grieve for him, of course, perhaps the Jedi who had led him too, Echo had always spoken fondly of Skywalker, after all, but his brothers had no means to mourn. Not really. And no other family could offer you their shoulder, no mother or father, no one but soldiers who weren’t allowed to wear their sorrows on their sleeves.

There was nothing of Echo’s to mourn, nothing but the messages and pictures he had sent you.

They were the only proof of his existence, of his memory. That he wasn’t another number, that he was sweet and charming and smart, that he was awkward and rule-following and so damn caring. He had worried so much about his brothers, about them being remembered, and now, these communications were the only remembrance of him, of your Echo.

Eventually, you had to force yourself to stop looking them over for hours every night. Stop yourself from hoping that you would get one last comm from him. One last picture of his dorky smile, of him and Fives causing havoc. One last call to tell you he missed you, to tell you he loved you.

Echo had loved you.

And you, oh, how you had loved him too. You had fallen for him fast and hard, and now this pain was the unyielding ground at the end of that fall.

Work was your only solace. Work was an escape, a place where your mind couldn’t wander, couldn’t focus on the grief, couldn’t muse over your loss, your work was too important for that.

Mavis was your anchor, she gave you space and distractions in a good balance. Space to be alone so you weren’t just cramming your feelings in a box all day, and distractions when she knew you needed something that wasn’t work or grief.

You weren’t proud of the way you were careless with your drinks at the bar on those nights, but somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care most of the time.

Days turned into weeks. The war stretched on, and death tolls rolled in every day, just numbers, faceless, dehumanized numbers. Just like your Echo.

Weeks turned into months. Work continued, a decryption there, a few lives saved here, small victories, victories that helped your pain. Each one was for your Echo now.

You had always taken pride in your work, pride in doing your part to ease this war, to win battles, but now this was just an extra layer of it, pride that you could help the brothers he had held so dear. It helped, and those around you started to notice.

Eventually, it got easier to smile throughout the day, and you started to feel less guilty over that ease. Though, you still couldn’t crack jokes quite like you used to. At some point, your trips to the bar became less about drowning your sorrow and more about spending time with friends. Though, you still recoiled every time someone tried to flirt with you.

You hoped that things could get better.

The trouble was that no one told you that hope was a dangerous thing.

A sigh pushed itself past your teeth as you leaned back, rubbing your eyes to wash away the imprint of data streams behind your lids. Just a few more hours and you could go to that nice dinner Mavis had invited you to. It was a decent day, and you felt like eating.

The break from your work must have caught attention because someone cleared their throat beside you. Moving only one hand, you cracked an eye open toward the noise. It was Taan, a young and brilliant decrypter who had been placed under your care until he learned the ropes enough to work on his own. He was holding his data pad with a question burning in his eyes.

“Yeah, kid?” you asked, fighting a yawn.

“Do you have a minute to look something over?”

Silently, you sat upright again and waved him forward, letting your other hand drop.

He paused for just a moment, thought, then must have decided it was now or never, “Do you remember last week, when we decrypted that resource update?”

“You mean the one from the techno union, advertising their fancy new battle tactic algorithm?”

“Yeah, that one! See, I was taking another look at it, and…something doesn’t fit. It bothered me the first time we looked at it, but we were too busy relaying the new information to command for me to think about at the time, but now I looked it over again and…” Fingers tapped on the underside of the data pad as he bit his lip, then he shoved it towards you, “here just look for yourself, look at the developer signatures.”

You did as asked, eyes going to the bottom of the page where the techno union had listed the people involved with creating the algorithm. If you weren’t so used to decoding the various numeric-heavy code names those tech creeps used, it would have looked like gibberish. Wat Tambor’s was the only code name you had memorized and without your key, you weren’t sure who the others were….expect.

Your chair gave a creak as you jolted forward, a little shocked.

“See it?” Taan was trying to contain his excitement at your reaction, obviously glad he wasn’t going crazy.

He wasn’t. There, right in the middle of the long list of contributors, was a strange name, not coded like the rest. ‘T1b3r’ It only had two numbers, unlike the others, meaning it had to be using a different cipher. Among the dozen confusing names, it was easy to miss.

Your mind was working overtime and you didn’t answer the kid quite yet as you pulled your chair back to your workstation, fingers dancing away at your desk unit. That didn’t stop Taan from rambling in your silence.

“I ran it through our other keys but it still didn’t make any sense, then I thought, maybe this guy’s using a whole new code we haven’t cracked yet? But in that case, why? Like why sign your contribution and make it harder to recognize your name and-”

“That’s because it’s not encoded at all,” you offered, “or at least, not a complicated code.”

“Huh?”

“You play Alderaan Gambit at all, kid?”

Taan hummed, “You mean that weird, over-complicated version of holochess? No, not really.”

Since your quick search on the net confirmed your suspicions, you leaned back in your chair again, “Well, one of the elements of the game is capturing each other’s pieces and holding them behind your ‘enemy line’ so to speak. The pieces aren’t just removed from play, they stay on the board and there are all kinds of strategies players can use to win the game with them. You know what those captured pieces are called?”

He shook his head.

“Tibers.”

Taan’s eyes went wide, “T1b3r!” he snatched his datapad back from your hands, “So… you don’t think that…?”

You hesitated, pulling your lip between your teeth, “That one of our own is being used behind enemy lines? Yeah…maybe.”

A fist slammed against your desk, nearly hitting your keyboard, and a growl pushed its way through your teeth. It was late, much later than you usually stayed, and well past your shift. You had told Taan to go home hours ago, insisting that you could wait for the response alone.

After your litter discovery, you sent it up the chain of command and leveraged your reputation to get the report marked as a priority. You knew there was a chance that, even if they did look it over today, that they may not see what the two of you saw.

The response to your report was clear: there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant further investigation.

If you weren’t running on so little sleep and half blind from staring at the screen of your desk unit for 12 hours, you might have been able to see their point. It was, admittedly, a weak connection. There were countless languages and cultures in the galaxy, so even if the code name was meant to spell out ‘Tiber’ there was little reason to think it was in reference to a strategy game and not just a birth-given name.

But still, something just didn’t sit right with you. Something was off, you could feel it in your gut, and after years of trusting your gut to stay alive, you weren’t in the habit of ignoring it.

You rubbed the corners of your tired eyes, hoping to alleviate the pressure growing there. The supervisors weren’t any help to you now, but you weren’t ready to let this go just yet. You just had to think- think of who you could go to for another opinion!

After a moment, your head jerked back up, eyes still stinging as they met your holoscreen again. A quick search in the GAR records would give you your answer, they kept close track of what battalion was where at any given moment. It was serendipitous, or maybe it was fate telling you that you were right to push this further, either way, you practically lept from your chair when you saw that the 501st were currently on Coruscant.

Even if you could let this go until tomorrow (which you couldn’t), you had to go to them tonight, they were shipping out for Ringo Vinda in the morning to aid General’s Tiplee and Tiplar.

You were already clocking out with the Corrie guards on duty before you realized you weren’t even sure who to contact or how. A part of you felt like you knew the men of the 501st, especially Torrent company.

The number of times Echo had talked about them, all the pictures he sent, the videos he recorded of their antics, they felt like old friends. Echo had wanted you to meet them all, mentioned all the time of plans for you to join his brothers on shore leave the next time they came home. A chance you two never got.

There was a sudden shake of your head as if that could brush the spiraling thoughts away. You had to focus, this wasn’t about your lost chances.

You thought about asking Mavis for Fives’ comm code, but that felt a little trange. So, instead, you checked the time and, when you realized drinking hours were just starting, you headed for your speeder bike.

You hadn’t been back to 79’s since the night you met Echo. When you two were together, it was simply because there were other bars you and your friends preferred more and now that he was gone, no one even dared mention the name of the place.

It wasn’t nearly as hard to walk in as you thought it would be. Though, that was mostly due to the fact that you were avoiding looking at any of the patrons in armor for too long. That wouldn’t last forever, of course, the whole reason you were here was to talk to someone who had the same face as him.

There wasn’t much wandering needed before you spotted a group in blue, downing shots and making a general ruckus at the bar. You recognized the large tattoo on one of them and actually smiled to yourself. A picture came to the surface of your mind, one with three of Echo’s brothers standing in a smoke-filled kitchen. The corner of Echo’s laughing face had been beside the caption: ‘They were betting on who the better cook was. They all lost’.

Again you had to tamp down the feelings welling up inside and once you had, you marched to the bar. You tapped on the armored shoulder, just before he grabbed another shot.

When he looked over his shoulder at you, you said, “Are you Jesse?”

He arched an eyebrow, then turned to face you fully, eyes scanning up and down, “Hey, you aren’t a clone.”

“Observant one, aren’t you?”

That made him smirk, “Just not used to seeing natborns in those uniforms- but yeah, I’m Jesse, what’s your name, hot lips?”

You opened your mouth, but it wasn’t your voice that called your name, instead, a hand gripped your shoulder and you turned to see Fives with concern written on his face. The moment you saw him, something that wasn’t there when you looked at Jesse gripped your heart, but like the other emotions, you swallowed it.

“Fives, is your captain here? I need to speak with Rex.”

His eyes narrowed, “Rex? Why?”

You hesitated, and the moment you did, Fives handed his drink off to someone else and guided you away from the heart of the ruckus (leaving Jesse ignored and a little bewildered).

“I just need to talk to him. Something was brought to my attention at work today and I think he might be able to help me.”

Again, Fives just stared at you, but when you only answered him with a hard stare, he sighed. “Rex is having a drink with Commander Bly,” he jabbed his thumb towards a two-seat table near the corner. Before you could shove past him, however, his grip on your arm tightened a bit. “Hey- just hold on a sec, will you? Can I at least ask how you’re doing?”

You didn’t miss the way he tried to duck into your vision, to lock his gaze with the eyes that were avoiding him. It wasn’t his fault, the emotion welling up inside, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Fives was just too wrapped up in everything that reminded you of him.

But, he still deserved an answer.

“I’m…better. Things aren’t perfect, but,” with a calming breath, you looked up as close to his eyes as possible, focusing on all the little details of his face that distinguished him from Echo. “But they’re better.”

You knew he was staring at you still, maybe searching your face, maybe looking for signs of a lie or cover-up. After a moment, though, he sighed and straightened up. “Alright. Hey, before you leave, tell me, I’ll walk you home, okay?”

A smile flickered across your lips, Fives really was sweet, despite his playboy bravado. After giving his arm a gentle squeeze, you moved past him toward where Rex and his friend sat. As if by fate, the other man, Bly, got up before you closed in, heading for the bar for another round.

Rex’s gaze flicked up from his empty glass when he caught your movement in the corner of his eye.

“Captain Rex?”

“Yes, may I help you?” he asked, looking you over.

You held your hand out, and when you gave your name, his eyes widened. So, he did know of you. That made sense, Echo once said that he ‘bragged’ about you every chance he got, even to his captain. Before Rex could say anything, however, you got to business, “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Captain, but I need your help with something, do you have a moment?”

Rex didn’t hesitate, after casting a eyes to the bar and sharing a look with someone, presumably his friend, he waved for you to take a seat.

“Did you receive the report on the Techno Union’s new battle algorithm?” you asked once settled in the seat. He nodded, and so, you explained your situation, your theory, and what brought you to it, and how the higher-ups didn’t think it important enough to investigate.

When you finished, Rex continued to stare at you for a moment, then, “Alright, so why have you come to me?”

“Because I-” you paused, mind faltering. You had a reason, of course you did, but how to put it? Your eyes dropped to the table for a moment, you thought, then darted your gaze back up to his with a sign, “Maybe I just want to know if I’m wasting my time. Captain, do you think a trooper would send a message like that? Or am I drawing conclusions where there aren’t any?”

For a moment, all Rex did was stare back at you, maybe mulling over his answer, maybe considering you, personally. Maybe both. “I mean, it’s possible. Anything is, I suppose. It would have to be a clone with advanced training, like a commando, or an ARC, and of course, to even know the reference to a tiber piece, they’d have to be familiar with Alderaan Gambit in the first-”

Rex cut himself off, mouth clapping shut and eyes going wide again.

That’s when it hit you too.

“Echo,” you breathed, mind connecting this line and that rapidly. “Why didn’t I think of it before?” Something warm flickered in your chest, something small but blooming as you thought over the possibility of your beloved.

Hope. It was a spark of hope.

Your rambling continued as the blanks filled themselves in, “Echo used to talk about how he played Alderaan Gambit with- with you, Rex! How you used to come up with battle strategies together while playing. If he was captured, maybe they realized his strategic skills, and now-!”

The spark was fanning itself by this point.

“Now he’s trapped, somehow forced to help their own battle strategies. But he’s too smart to let them get away with it.”

“Stop.”

“And not to mention his ARC training would include advanced splicing, which he’d need to hack into their reports to alter them. He would have all the skills to send us a message. And he would-”

“Stop!”

The sharp firmness of Rex’s tone caught you off guard, words fumbling in your mouth as your mind came to a screeching halt. When your eyes snapped up to his, a hard expression that had taken over his features. It softened a little, but his gaze said it all and you felt oddly chastised under it.

Echo is gone. Echo is dead.

That spark in your chest dimmed.

Then, Rex sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t do that to yourself, little one. Believe me.” He paused for a moment, perhaps thinking, maybe collecting himself. “You can’t… hold on to the dead. It will tear you up inside more than anything. More than the loss, more than the grief, even the memories. Holding on will hurt you most in the end.”

The hand tightened a little, almost affectionate, almost… paternal. His eyes were soft and full of years of hard-earned experience. Years of his own grief, of his own loss.

“Echo wouldn’t want that for you. He would want you to let him go, so you can heal.” Rex let his hand fall, gaze fixed on his drink again and you found that you were swallowing a sour taste in your throat. “We all have to move on. It’s the only way we can survive.”

The lining of sorrow in his words was the water that doused the remainder of that spark. Hope melted away like snow on skin and it stung just the same.

Again you found yourself choking on something in your throat; the bitterness of rising tears.

The way Rex kept his eyes unfocused on his hands said all that needed to be said, so you stood rather abruptly. “I’m sorry for taking up your time, Captain. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

You thought he might have tilted his head back up to you as you turned to leave, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Besides that, he didn’t say or do anything as you walked away. There was a ringing in your ears as you went, and suddenly, wading through the crowd of patrons made your skin feel like it was on fire.

Everything was too loud now, the music pressing in on your ears, the lights burning your eyes. You felt dizzy as something else stung your eyes, that sour taste thickening in your throat as you burst through the doors. The stale city air did little to calm you, and you found yourself staggering to the side, trying to find any sort of privacy as your chest clawed itself with pain.

You had just ducked behind a row of speeder bikes when the tears broke free, a sob ripping your throat apart from the effort of holding it in. The sound bounced off the side of the building and echoed down the alley, just as the tears soaked into the permacrete without a care.

The grief that had gotten better rolled over you like a tidal wave. Once again it pulled you under as if you hadn’t made any progress at all.

How could you be so stupid? How could you think that he was alive, that he had defied all odds and sent you some secret message? This wasn’t some romance novel, love and hope couldn’t change reality. Death didn’t just reverse because you begged it to. Stupid stupid stupid-

Once again your mind stalled as arms, warm and gentle, closed around you. Someone guided you to sit, calling your name so softly you almost couldn’t hear it over your own ragging thoughts. A hand tucked you close to an armored chest as they started a slow rocking motion with your bodies.

Stunned, you looked up past the armor and through the tears to find the kindest brown eyes you had seen since your last call with Echo.

“It’s alright, vod’ika,” he whispered, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Fives tucked your head under his chin, still rocking you as he rubbed your back and repeated his assurances.

The waves came again with a vengeance and this time, you let it happen. You curled into his embrace and wept, tears and sobs coming without restraint. It didn’t matter how long you two sat there like that, Fives held you the entire time. It didn’t matter that he was shipping out in the morning, he spent his night comforting you through every moment of the reopening wounds.

Hope was a dangerous thing. It hadn’t been a spark inside you, it had been a fire.

And you know what they say about fire.

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#if any one notices the different style of the header for this chapter just know it was intentional #I'm trying to be poetic or something lol #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo x you #echo x you #echo reader insert #series: echo and comms #deeja writes

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