#like what if domino squad had to be part of the kamino guard

[knightprincess]

Always (Crosshair X Jedi Reader) Part 25

Words 1.2k  Warning: None 

"Will Crosshair come back?" asked Omega. Her curious mind once again getting the better of her, as he looked towards (Y/N), Hunter and Echo. Although she was relieved to hear Crosshair hadn't turned against them, she still worried for what he could do if he did. After all he had proven in the past he was capable of predicting their every move. He was dangerous foe when the times called for it. At the same time, Omega couldn't shake what Wrecker had revealed, the warning from the race track. Cid couldn't be trusted, why?

"He will" voiced (Y/N), having faith he wouldn't abandon her now. "He's protecting all of you at the moment" revealed the Jedi Knight, softness in her voice, as it slowly began to dawn on Echo why the Empire hadn't been searching for them since Tipoca City had been destroyed by a reign of fire. "He told Rampart all of you had perished on Kamino. To Rampart, Cross was the only one to survive" added (Y/N), as if her words were a closely guarded secret. Hunter nodded, as if her words had confirmed what he already suspected. Crosshair hadn't given up, but was doing what they weren't. He wasn't just protecting them from the Empire but trying to build a better future for those left behind. 

"What else is he doing there?" asked Echo, his voice surprisingly steady. Although even he knew deep down Crosshair would eventually turn against the Empire. Even more so when he realized, all her desired was being kept away by the very people he was forced to serve. At the same time the Arc Trooper, recalled Rex's offer about helping to fight for the Republic, despite said republic fast becoming a distant memory to most. "That's what the warning was about. Besides Crosshair, Cid and a few others know we survived" added the last remaining member of the Domino Squad, thinking like Fives and quickly realizing the warning could very well be about Cid eventually betraying them. 

"The effects of the inhibitor chips are wearing off slowly. More and more clones are questioning Order 66 and the Empire in general. Crosshair is helping those who want to defect get away. The latest one was Commander Cody" admitted (Y/N), knowing as Crosshair did, if it was revealed the rest of Clone Force 99 had survived, then an eye of suspicion would quickly fall on the sniper. Everything he'd done would be called in to question. "If he can spare the time he sends information on future imperial plans as well" added the Princess, knowing despite the danger, Crosshair would still insist on doing this, if only so he could make up for what he considered to be wrong doing when his inhibitor chip triggered and forced him to turn on his brothers and Jedi. 

"That could lead to a civil war!" almost yelled Hunter upon realizing where current events could take them. Naturally his thoughts took him to Omega's future, if another war was to break out, what would happen to her? Would she be able to handle it? After all she was still learning her way around the galaxy and her place with the vast collection of star systems. The second his racing mind calmed slightly, he soon realized a civil war would likely happen with or without Crosshair's interference. Already the Empire were seeking to replace clones, the new TK Troopers being trained. Already clones were seeing the Empire wasn't something they wanted to be apart of. It was only a matter of time before someone with in the higher ranks of the Empire, deemed all clones as an enemy that must be terminated, much like the Emperor had done the Jedi. 

"Hunter, look around you. Its already building to that. The question is whether we stand by and watch or do our part to protect those we love" announced Echo, already making his mind up. If the choice was given, he would once again stand and fight, protect those who couldn't defend themselves. Just like before. "The republic isn't gone, as long as there are those still willing to fight for it" commented the Arc Trooper, speaking as if he was a wise Jedi rather than a former trooper turned mercenary. 

"Well said" spoke (Y/N), she too having already made up her mind. Choosing to fight for the Clones as they had once fought for the republic. Despite the imperials lack of care for the clones and obliviousness when it come to the eventual consequences for their actions. Another war was very much brewing, at this rate it would be the actions of Rampart that caused the next war, that would caused the remaining clones to see through the lies of the Empire and defect for their own good. 

"What's your side mission? Can I come too?" asked Omega, as if to change the subject or sensing the obvious discomfort between the trio. At the same time Tech and Wrecker reappeared, almost like the mention of the side mission had gained their attention. Tech from curiosity much like Omega, where as Wrecker with the silent question, if he could blow something up. 

"There's several side missions" admitted (Y/N), ironically both of them having something to do with her past. One was to find the truth, where as the other was to protect. "To my knowledge two Padawan's survived the purge. Caleb Dume, whom is current roaming around the Outer rim, and Cal Kestis is hiding on Bracca. For now both have avoided being detected" spoke the Jedi Knight, acting as if she were an older siblings, determined to protect what remained of her scattered family. "The other is to discover the truth on what happened to Anakin, if possible find him. Hopefully without going back to the Temple" quietly added (Y/N), although she wanted to find out the truth regarding her best friend, she had doubts about returning the site where most Jedi had been massacred. She knew the force would over power her, the emotions would be too much for even master Yoda to handle, let alone anyone else. 

"We were on Bracca not to long ago. I do not recall a Padawan being there" worded Tech, as he began to recall their short time on the mid rim planet serving as a grave yard for the past. They'd had their inhibitor chips removed there, after the fiasco with Wrecker. Bracca was also the place where they'd been reunited with Crosshair for the first time since leaving him behind on Kamino the first time. As well as the impromptu meeting with Cad Bane of all beings. 

"Cad Bane was there" loudly exclaimed Wrecker. The legendary bounty hunter brought questions to mind. Was (Y/N) sure the Padawan she spoke of, was still on Bracca. After all the imperials had been present there and could have easily detected the former Jedi. "Are you sure the kid is still there?" asked the human wrecking ball. Quickly noticing how Hunter and Echo looked at him. 

"He's still there Wrecker. Apart of the scrapper guild. For the time being he like many, cut himself off from the force. Rex keeps an eye on him from time to time, as does Gregor" replied (Y/N) figuring Cal would stay there until he was left with no other choice but to leave. As she was sure Caleb would continue his new life as a young mercenary until the time was right. 

"When do we leave General" asked Echo, referring to (Y/N) by the title he'd always known her by. To which he received a gentle smirk in response, as she gestured towards her awaiting ship. The mission to discover the truth regarding Anakin and likely pick up Crosshair was about to begin. 

Master List

#tbb #the bad batch #crosshair x reader #part 25 #crosshair x jedi reader #reader interactive #jedi reader #x jedi reader #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #arc trooper echo

[writingforfun0714]

Sorry this took so long but here’s Chapter 2 to Older Sister. If you haven’t read Chapter 1, I highly recommend it before starting this.

*Takes place between ep10-11 but goes through ep11*

**I know ep11+12 are parts (Ryloth arc) but I decided to separate into 2 chapters to match the episodes**

Older Sister—Chapter 2

Hunter sighs as he watches Omega and her new friend, Maisy, hurry back to the Dejarik board and begin to talk with each other.

“Hunter,” the sarge hears his name and turns to see the rest of the squad looking at him. In all honesty, he really just told that to the girls to give him more time to think. He couldn’t very well reject the little girl, but at least he’s able to stall for time.

“Hunter, you know very well that we are not equipped to care for another child, let alone one so young-“ Tech argues realistically. Hunter nods.

“I know-I know, but I couldn’t just say no, I have to think-“ Hunter agrees.

“Why can’t we take her? Omega’s right, she needs help,” Wrecker asks, agreeing with her.

“Wrecker, Maisy’s a Jedi. Having a Jedi with us is basically like putting a target on our backs for the Empire-“ Echo tells the larger clone.

“She’s a Jedi? Are you sure? She doesn’t have those laser swords they all carry-“ Wrecker argues and Echo and Hunter nod.

“I’m sure. Her robes are Jedi robes,” Echo says and I nod.

“Remember Commander Dume? He wore robes like Maisy’s,” Hunter asks Wrecker, who clearly wants to argue, but doesn’t when he sees Hunter’s look.

“Yeah…I guess you two have a point. But Omega’s right—we have to help her-“ Wrecker insists. Hunter looks at the explosives expert with a questioning look.

“Why? Why are you so dead set on helping this girl we don’t even know?” Hunter asks.

“Really? We only knew Omega for what—a couple interactions? It was you that wanted to go back for her on Kamino,” Wrecker argues, causing Hunter to pause. Even if he won’t admit it, Wrecker has a point. Maybe…maybe that’s why Crosshair-

“Besides, look how happy Omega is,” Wrecker points out, snapping the sarge out of his thoughts. The boys all look and watch as Omega interacts with the young girl.

“Omega needs a female to hang around with,” Wrecker adds.

“I suppose you do have a point Wrecker,” Hunter admits, “but that doesn’t change the fact that Maisy is much younger than Omega. Omega’s in training and can handle herself-“

“Technically all Jedi start their training once accepted into the Temple,” Tech says, earning a look from Hunter.

“But having another mouth to feed will put even more of a strain on our tight budget with credits,” Tech adds as they continue watching Omega and Maisy.

Hunter sighs and glances to Echo.

“Well? What should I do?” Hunter asks. Echo blinks at the sarge.

“What? Why are you asking me?” Echo asks, clearly caught off guard.

“We didn’t normally work with Jedi. We usually just had to report to Cody,” Hunter tells Echo, “You’re the only one out of all of us that really has experience with the Jedi,” Hunter explains as memories of General Skywalker, General Bilaba and her padawan flash in his mind. To be honest, Hunter was more focused on the mission on Anaxes to really get to know Anakin and he and the Batch really only worked with General Bilaba one other time before Order 66 happened on Kaller.

“So? What are the Jedi really like?” Hunter asks. Echo pauses and thinks about it.

Most of Echo’s memories of General Skywalker and his padawan, Commander Tano, were of them arguing like siblings, goofing around together or being on missions together. General Kenobi liked to pretend he was the responsible one, but Echo remembers how ridiculous some of his and Commander Cody’s plans seemed as well. A brief memory of Master Shaak Ti also passes by in his mind. She had helped him and Fives when they were cadets in training with Domino Squad. Echo looks at the the two girls, who are talking with Cid.

“The Jedi are good, caring people. They put others before themselves,” Echo says.

“It would be good for Omega to have another female around. But her age is a bit of a problem. She’s what 3-4?” Echo asks.

“4 years, 6 months and 27 days to be exact,” Tech adds and Echo nods.

“She’d need more care than a girl like Omega,” Echo says, “and I’ve never worked with a Youngling before.”

“Perhaps we should contact local authorities and inform them of a child needing a home-“ Tech suggests.

“No Tech, if we make our presence known, they could contact the Empire,” Hunter says and the pilot/scientist nods.

“I don’t see any other option short of abandonment,” Tech says and the boys become uncomfortable at the word. There’s no way any of them would leave a small child that needed them.

“So…I guess it’s decided then,” Hunter says, looking between everyone, making sure it’s alright with them and the boys nod.

Hunter silently approaches the girls and catches Omega’s attention without interrupting the two of them. Omega looks at Hunter questioningly, knowing he was talking with the others about accepting Maisy. He gives her a small nod, causing Omega to brighten and get excited.

“What?” Maisy asks her.

“Nothing..nothing, I’m just so excited to have you with us. You know I mostly grew up around boys so it’ll be nice to have a girl with us,” Omega tells Maisy.

“You mean the other clones?” Maisy asks and Omega nods. Hunter smiles as the girls talk before rejoining the rest of his squad.

After Hunter and the others finish talking, Wrecker decided to be the first one to introduce himself to their newest addition. He easily and seamlessly joins the conversation the 2 girls are having and starts talking loudly, meaning he’s excited. Echo and Tech both look at Hunter before Echo decides to join the others, leaving Tech alone with the sarge. Hunter sighs to himself quietly, earning a glance from the scientist/pilot of the squad.

“I know it’ll be an adjustment,” Tech suddenly tells Hunter, who looks at him, “and it certainly won’t be easy.”

“You’re telling me,” Hunter replies.

“But…it’s worth it. She’s worth it,” Tech says, looking at the little girl. Wrecker is telling Maisy about the time on Pantora, with Echo and Omega chiming in adding details here and there. Hunter nods. He knows that it’d be wrong…cruel, to leave a child in need. Though he wouldn’t admit it, children are a soft spot for him.

“We should probably join them-“ Tech suggests and that’s when Hunter catches Maisy’s eye. He nods at Tech before walking towards the rest of his squad.

They spot Hunter and Tech and Omega pauses the story, though it was almost over anyways with her telling Maisy she was saved by Hunter on a speeder.

“Hunter,” Omega greets, smiling and Hunter softens, returning the gesture with a nod before turning to Maisy.

As a Jedi, Maisy knows that it’s her job to do what is best for the group. That was what Master Secura had told her class when she stopped by for a lesson. But the little girl can’t help the tears that start forming.

“Maisy? What’s wrong?” Omega asks, clearly concerned.

“I don’t wanna be a burden sir, I can stay by myself-“ Maisy tells Hunter, her voice wavering as her lip trembles. She had expected the sergeant to say that he wasn’t serious, or that he had changed his mind…or that the others disagreed. Maisy wasn’t stupid and she had a feeling Hunter had only told her those things because Omega was insistent.

“What? I—..You’re not a burden,” Hunter tells the girl as Omega gently rubs the little girl’s shoulders affectionately. She sniffs hard and swipes her wrist under her nose.

“Hunter’s right-we want you with us. I’ve never had a sister before and I’d be a pretty bad one if I let you go off on your own,” Omega says.

“Sister?” Maisy asks, “I..would be your family?” She asks and Omega smiles and nods.

“If you want,” she tells the Youngling.

“So..would you all be..my brothers?” Maisy asks the clone soldiers. They blink and share a look and before Hunter can answer, Wrecker takes a step forward.

“You betchya!” Wrecker says, making Maisy smile, but it falters slightly when she glances at Hunter. He smiles and nods.

“Wrecker’s right. We’re…family,” Hunter assures Maisy.

“So..what’dya say kid?” Hunter asks and Maisy nods.

“Thank you,” she says and hugs the sergeant. He smiles and hugs the little girl back before she lets go and proceeds to hug each and every one of the Batchers, saving Omega for last, giving the girl a tight hug, making Omega laugh.

Time Lapse..about 2-2.5 weeks…

*set in Episode 11 Devil’s Deal*

A couple weeks have gone by and the Batch have begrudgingly accepted their first job from Cid since taking in Maisy. Hunter, obviously worried about when the time came to start doing jobs again, has made it clear to Cid that the girls come first, no matter the job.

They’re to deliver a shipment of blasters to Ryloth. To someone named Gobi Glie. As Wrecker, Tech and Echo load up the Havoc Marauder, Hunter pulls Omega and Maisy aside.

“Listen up you two,” Hunter says and the two girls stand at the ready, excited.

“There’s gonna be rules that have to be followed without question,“ Hunter states. Omega and Maisy nod.

“First off you both stay on the ship. This is a simple delivery job so there’s no reason for either of you to leave the ship,” Hunter says.

“Yes sir,” the girls reply simultaneously.

“Second, Omega, because you’re older, you have more responsibility. Maisy, Omega’s in charge and you do as she says. She knows what to do if something goes wrong,” Hunter tells the girls. Maisy glances up and Omega smiles and nods so Maisy looks back at Hunter and nods.

“I understand,” she tells the sergeant.

“Ok,” Hunter nods and motions for the girls to get on the ship. He helps Wrecker and Echo with the last of the crates as Tech fires up the ship.

There’s a small, desolate moon above Ryloth that is the designated meeting/drop off place.

“Approaching at 1-6-2,” Tech announces. Maisy’s with Omega, buckled in the row of seats just behind the cockpit. They feel the ship slow and move down and feel the ship land and the doors open. Hunter walks out with Wrecker carrying the crates and Tech and Echo following them. Omega motions for Maisy to follow her as she takes a seat on the top step of the ramp that opens up. Maisy follows and sits next to the blonde girl and they watch as Hunter approaches 3 Twi’leks. One of them is a young female, probably about a year or so older than Omega.

“Are you Gobi? Cid sent us,” Hunter asks the blue Twi’lek.

“Along with 3 dozen blasters and a case of thermal detonators,” Tech adds.

“Let’s see them,” the one called Gobi says. Wrecker brings the crates forward and Tech and Echo open the lids.

Meanwhile, the younger female Twi’lek with bright green skin gasps in awe at the sight of the Marauder before approaching. Hunter watches the young Twi’lek walk towards his ship, but says nothing, trusting Omega to handle it.

The young Twi’lek approaches. Maisy instinctively scoots closer to Omega and clings to the older girl. Omega gives the Youngling a reassuring nod before looking at the Twi’lek girl who appears to be her age.

“What type of ship is this?” The young Twi’lek girl asks.

“A modified Omicron-class attack shuttle,” Omega replies.

“Can I have a look inside?” She asks. Omega shifts to look behind her, at the rest of the Batch, at Hunter specifically.

“Hunter!” Omega calls out. The sarge looks back.

“Can she come aboard?!” Omega asks. Hunter just nods before turning his attention back to the client, Gobi.

“Ok, you can come up. But no funny business,” Omega warns, pointing a finger.

“Funny business?” The Twi’lek girl asks, clearly confused.

“Uh-huh. I’ll be watching you,” Omega says and she stands. Maisy jumps up and hurries inside.

“Uh-ok then, show me around,” The Twi’lek girl chuckles as Omega follows the Youngling inside. The girls head to the cockpit.

“What’s your name?” Maisy asks the Twi’lek girl.

“I’m Hera Syndulla, what’re your names?” The Twi’lek girl, Hera, introduces before asking back, looking between the 2 girls.

“I’m Maisy,” the younger girl says and looks up at Omega.

“And I’m Omega,” she says.

“We’re sisters,” Maisy tells Hera.

“You are?” She asks Omega and the young clone nods with a smile.

“Do you have siblings?” Maisy asks. Hera nods sadly but doesn’t say anything. Before Maisy can pry, Omega puts a hand on Maisy’s shoulder, silencing her. They get to the cockpit and Hera takes the pilot seat with Maisy in the co-pilot seat.

“This is the sensor array, and that’s the deflector shield, over there’s the nav computer and there’s the hyperdrive,” Omega lists, pointing at all the controls on the dash. Maisy spins around in her chair.

“You sure know a lot about this, do you fly?” Hera asks Omega.

“No. Tech won’t let me train until I can recite all the ship’s specifications from memory,” Omega explains.

“Specs are only half of it. Flying is…it’s about a feeling,” Hera says.

“What do you mean?” Omega asks.

“When I close my eyes and picture myself up there, I feel it. The instruments help guide you, but you plot your course…you’re free,” Hera explains dreamily.

“So you’re a pilot?” Omega asks.

“No—not yet. But one day,” Hera says hopeful of her dream.

“C’mon, I’ll show you my favorite part of the ship,” Omega says, motioning for Hera to follow and Maisy smiles, knowing exactly what Omega’s talking about, also following.

They approach the short ladder that leads up to the gunners position.

“Up there, that’s where we sleep,” Omega explains as Maisy climbs up the ladder and sits, leaning up against the side wall. The lights strung up everywhere are one and Maisy even made a few crude, childlike drawings of Maisy and Omega and even one of all of the Batch.

“You guys get to live on a star ship? That’s my dream,” Hera says with a smile.

“Well technically it’s our gunner’s mount, but when we’re not being chased or shot at, it’s our room,” Omega explains.

“Who’s chasing you?” Hera asks, her eyes moving back and forth cautiously.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Hera asks. Maisy and Omega frown with confusion.

“We thought you were in trouble. Isn’t that why we’re here?” Omega asks Hera.

“If you’re in trouble, you should take this,” Maisy says, reaching in a small drawer in the gunner’s seat. It’s a data chip that contains contact info for the Batch.

“Here,” Maisy says, holding the chip out to Hera.

“Maisy-“ Omega warns.

“What? You helped me when I needed it. Besides this is just in case,” Maisy says. Omega nods and Hera takes the chip from the younger girl.

“Thank you, I won’t tell anyone I have this and I’ll only use it in an emergency,” Hera assures Omega, tucking the chip into one of her pockets.

Meanwhile, Hunter and the rest of the Batch finish the transaction.

“It’s a start. Tell Cid to contact me when she has more to sell,” Gobi tells Hunter, handing the sarge a briefcase, presumably the payment.

“Building an arsenal attracts attention. You better know what you’re getting into,” Hunter warns the blue male Twi’lek.

“We don’t have a choice,” Gobi says, picking one of the crates up by one side. He glances back as Maisy, Omega and Hera approach the landing ramp steps.

“Hera, we’re leaving,” Gobi calls Hera back.

“Thanks for the tour,” Hera tells the girls.

“Any time,” Omega says and motions for Maisy to follow. They escort Hera off the Marauder and join the Batch as Gobi loads up their ship with their newly acquired weapons.

“Good luck,” Omega says and both her and Maisy wave at Hera. She waves back at the girls before running to catch up.

“Make a new friend?” Hunter asks the girls.

“She’s kind of strange,” Omega says.

“I like her!” Maisy exclaims.

“I like her too,” Omega agrees before looking back up at the soldiers.

“Did you know flying is about a feeling?” Omega asks before her and Maisy hurry back to the ship.

“What feeling?” Tech asks before the boys walk back onto the Marauder.

Tech fires up the ship and Echo plots the course back to Ord Mantell as Wrecker buckles Maisy into her seat. Omega does her own as Wrecker joins the others in the cockpit.

“Do you think we’ll see Hera again?” Maisy asks Omega. Omega smiles down at the young girl and nods.

“I’m sure of it,” Omega assures her and Maisy smiles and nods. Omega thinks back to the chip Maisy gave Hera. It has direct contact info for the Batch and Omega knows Hunter wouldn’t exactly be pleased to learn that they gave that information out so willingly. She debates on telling the sergeant but after going over every conversation with Hera, Omega has determined that Hera was truthful in that she would only use that info if it was an emergency. Of course Maisy is unaware and Omega sighs quietly.

“Maisy…you know…we can’t just give out our contact information. We’re supposed to lay low,” Omega explains. Maisy nods.

“I know..but Hera’s nice. And she said she’d only use it in an emergency,” Maisy says. Omega nods.

“I know…but not everyone is friendly,” Omega says, remembering how exactly she met Fennec Shand, the bounty hunter…and how, at first, she had seemed like a friend, wanting to help her.

“But-“

“No buts Maisy,” Omega argues gently and Maisy pouts but nods.

“Ok…I won’t do it again,” Maisy says and Omega frowns.

“Just…check with me before, ok?” Omega asks and Maisy nods, remembering Hunter’s words.

“Ok,” the Youngling agrees. They feel the ship take flight as Omega ponders her options.

End

Chapter 3

#star wars #star wars bad batch #bad batch #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw tbb #star wars tbb #bad batch oc fanfic #bad batch oc #bad batch jedi fanfic #bad batch jedi oc #bad batch jedi youngling #bad batch omega #bad batch older sister omega #sorry its kinda short #the batch don’t have a lot of screen time in ep11 #disney #pleeeeeease #unwhitewash the bad batch #and the clones #bad batch older sister fanfic #older sister fanfic #chapter 2

[alien-soop]

Imagine being a cadet and ur really excited to find out what planet ur getting deployed on, like this is what you’ve wanted for such a long time. Then they tell u that ur gonna be part of the Kamino guard and u will never be leaving glorified Seattle. Like RIP dude that must really hurt

#tcw #star wars #like what if domino squad had to be part of the kamino guard #rip heavy and fives #those poor boys #they only get to paint their armor grey #and probably don’t get to have a tattoo or funky hairstyle

[jgvfhl]

Help I can't stop--

--writing little fics that all involve saving Fives and sometimes other people and then just having Domino hugs at the end. so. yeah. This one has Tup in it! And an Ao3 link~

no warnings ^_^ about 6400 words, very fluffy by the end

Tup liked the busier nights at work, which he hadn’t quite expected. Bartending was a lot more pressure than working behind the scenes--washing dishes or prepping food before the night started--but Tup honestly liked it. Maybe it was his military training rising to the constant stream of orders and people and voices, or maybe he just liked the other bartenders better than the kitchen staff. Whatever it was, tonight was looking to be one of the busiest that week, and Tup only found happy anticipation to meet it.

Maybe a part of it was bartending meant he didn’t have Fives constantly over his shoulder, watching his every move to make sure he didn’t blow their cover or something. After over eight months here, eight months of considerable safety, he still hadn’t relaxed. The only reason Tup was “allowed” behind the bar in front of the customers was the cantina’s owner, Mira. She was the only reason either of them were alive after literally washing up on her doorstep during flood season, so she held some sway. She’d given them beds, meals, she’d never once threatened to turn them in for desertion--all for the requirement they help the aging weequay with her business, the Mirage cantina and inn. They would be fools to refuse, and if that meant Tup was up front, he went up front.

He still worried, naturally. Not so much about the GAR finding them anymore, not so much about the Jedi coming after him, not so much about how each day would end, those fears had largely subsided. Mostly, he worried about his brothers. Fives had explained the chips to him, as much as he knew. It had been a chilling revelation, and it still gnawed at both of their minds, despite having theirs removed. It was constant knowledge that each of his brothers had a ticking time bomb stowed in the back of their brain, just waiting to turn them all against the very people they were built to serve. Fives had sent an encrypted comm to the first person he thought might know how to help: Kix. Hopefully the medic would be prudent with the little knowledge Fives had sent, and hopefully he would know to keep it a damn secret until something concrete could be done about it.

Despite this--despite all of this--Tup had to leave it be. This little riverside town in the far outer rim rarely got news of the war unless battles approached, and just about no mention of Corusanti or Republic politics at all. He had no way to know what was happening. He had no way to affect what was happening. He had to leave it be. Tonight was busy enough without adding the small chaos of his own inner thoughts.

Fives had yet to accept this. Fives… Tup had been serving with Fives for almost a year now. He’d been through plenty of battles with him, hell, he’d survived Umbara with Fives. Fives had a way of… condensing his personality on the field, a way of putting the softer and more vulnerable parts of himself carefully away into some safebox behind walls to protect it from whatever he saw or did in the heat of war. But, afterwards, the old jokes and friendly punches came back in full force, usually helping everyone relax after the battle.

Fives hadn’t taken that safebox out yet.

In fact, Tup wasn’t sure Fives had escaped Ringo Vinda yet. He still saw the same guarded expressions, the same sharp, scrutinizing stare from the field. Maybe it was Tup’s “youth” showing. Shininess. But it had been over eight months since they’d escaped Kamino, and well over six since they’d faced any real danger. Fives couldn’t keep those walls up forever, could he?

Tup couldn’t really remember the last time he’d heard him laugh.

“You got everything you need over there?”

Tup pulled his mind back to his job. “Yeah, thanks, Dan,” he turned to his co-worker over his shoulder. Danula was Mira’s granddaughter, and definitely Tup’s favorite to work with out of the other bartenders. They got along famously--the first nattie friend he’d ever had.

“Looked a little lost in thought,” she replied. “Can’t have that on a busy night, you know?”

“Yeah, ‘course not,” Tup nodded, already moving to refill a pair of glasses. Service with a smile. Wasn’t that one of General Fisto’s mottos? He could have sworn he’d heard it from one of Commander Monnk’s men. Maybe in the same conversation about eating raw seafood like it was okay (which it wasn’t, it was disgusting). At least on a drier planet, he didn’t have that to bother him.

Tup caught sight of one of the regulars making his way through the crowded cantina. He glanced over his shoulder again at Dan, who was now at the other side of the circular bar. She’d be happy to see him.

“Hey, Carreth, good to see you,” Tup greeted the weequay who had arrived.

“Minnow--” Tup’s cover name, part of the precautions of desertion-- “a busy night, I see,” he smiled, craning his neck to catch a glance at Dan behind Tup. Mira and everyone who worked at the cantina knew about Carreth’s crush on Dan. Mira was fine with it, Dan’s parents were fine with it. Dan… had literally only figured it out last week. She was warming quickly to it, though. Carreth was nice, and frankly, too far gone to do anything stupid.

“Yeah, Mirage is a popular place this week,” Tup answered. “I’ll grab Dan for you.”

“Ah--I should tell you,” Carreth said, raising a hand and leaning in. “I noticed a group of your ah… family in town. They might make an appearance.”

Brothers. Tup paused, putting down the bottle of rum he’d pulled for Carreth. “How many? Can you tell me the color of their armor?”

“Kind of… black and red?” Carreth answered, tapping a finger on his chin between two horns. “Only five of them.”

Black and red? Odd. But he just nodded, casting an eye towards the doors. “Thanks for the heads up.” He filled a glass of Carreth’s preferred Corellian rum and left the bottle, then turned to get Dan.

He nearly bowled her over instead, only catching himself with half a second to spare. “Whoa! Hey, sorry--”

“Clones--at the door,” she said at the same time.

He looked. Well. He’d be hard-pressed to miss the guy who looked more Alpha-class than CT, which was more than a little worrying. But he didn’t recognize the armor at all. It didn’t even look regulation. Who were these guys?

“Okay, okay, yeah,” he said, seeing the new arrivals had put Dan on edge almost more than they had him. “Carreth just told me, he’s over there.”

“He did--wait, when--oh.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle push towards her admirer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” Force, he was happy Fives had the night off. He would have dragged Tup out of the bar and upstairs to their room before Carreth had finished the warning.

Tup stood his ground, now switched places with Dan on the bar. He kept an eye on the squad of five, watching carefully as they found a table on the edge of the room, then even more carefully as two of them made their way up to the bar in the center of the room.

Dan--Maker bless her--nearly gave up Carreth’s winning smiles to take their orders, but Tup wanted to find out exactly what they were doing here. He waved his hand at her, urging her back to her station.

The two men did stop and stare when he faced them over the bar. “What can I do for you?”

He used their pause to get a better look at them. The one on the left had long dark curls held out of his face by a red bandana with a small skull visible on one side of it. Speaking of skulls, it must have been their squad symbol, because half a skull was tattooed in black over the left side of his face, and the design was replicated in white on the helmet under his arm. The other, Tup had to do a double take, only because he’d never seen a clone with… studs? Ports? Metal… things implanted into his head, clearly visible because of his close haircut. Another quick glance caught the glint of cybernetic metal for a right hand. This guy had seen some things.

“Hi,” the first clone said, a little hesitant.

“This is a surprise,” the other said, a bit more confident. “Pleasant one, I guess.”

Tup shrugged. “As long as you’re not gonna get me in trouble, there won’t be any unpleasant ones.”

The second clone smiled and nodded. “I think some drinks and credits are all that need to change hands here.”

Tup liked this guy. Or at least respected him. “I can do that.”

The tattooed clone rattled off the orders in a way that said these were regular drink requests from the squad.

As he busied himself pulling out five glasses for them, the second clone asked, “Is that a tattoo there?”

Tup looked up to see his head tilted curiously, left hand pointing under his own right eye. “Uh… yeah.” He’d used to keep the teardrop tattoo covered, either a bandage or makeup when Dan could help him, but he’d been leaving it bare lately. Abruptly, Tup was aware that his looks hadn’t changed that much since Ringo Vinda. His hair was still long enough to keep in a bun, and the only difference was the shaved right side of his head where the chip had been removed. He hadn’t wanted to shave his whole head to start over, and he kind of liked the new look. But he still looked a lot like… well. Himself.

“I served with a brother with a mark like that, just looks familiar,” the clone said.

Small talk, clone style. Tup could do this. “Yeah, what was he like? Or is like.”

The other shrugged. “Kinda quiet, pretty nice kid. Didn’t know him for that long before…” He rubbed his head. “Well. Before a few incidents.” Tup could only imagine. “Never found out what happened to him, though. Guess he ran off before I got out.”

His squadmate turned a raised brow on him. “This the one your batcher dragged off about the…” He glanced at Tup. “The thing?”

Tup tried not to stare too pointedly as he finished off the third drink and moved on to the last two--the more complicated orders of the group. That sounded an awful lot like Fives talking about the chips.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Tup.”

He was rather proud of himself for not losing focus and completely ruining the cocktail by adding about three times the vodka needed by freezing up while pouring. But also who the ever-loving kriff were these guys? He started running through what the bandana-ed clone had just said. Unfortunately, he was stopped mid-review by the other one interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, that reminds me. Can I ask something?”

Tup carefully finished the drink at hand and nodded, now kind of wishing he’d let Dan handle this. “Sure.”

“You haven’t seen any other clones since you… left, have you?”

“No, don’t think so.” Technically not a lie. He and Fives hadn’t seen any others since deserting. But, he could no longer avoid the obvious question of his own. “Can I--um… what do I call you?”

“Echo.”

Well. Tup was pretty sure there would only be one Echo who knew his name and might even be looking for him. There was only, of course, the small hurdle of his supposed death about… a year and, what--five months ago? But that might be the “incidents” he had mentioned earlier, and of course, it would explain his mention of the batchmate Tup had disappeared with.

Fives.

“Give me a minute,” he said, and hurried over to Dan across the way.

She must have been hyper-aware of the little conversation, because she had turned around before he made it to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I promise,” he said. “I just need you to fill in for a few minutes, there’s something I need to take care of, then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“What?”

“Just--” He floundered a moment, debating how much to tell her. “I know one of them. He’s Blue’s best friend--like best best friend--they haven’t seen each other in a year, longer than that.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Please, they need to talk to each other, I just need to bring him upstairs, okay? Nothing’s wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, her already lined skin gaining more furrows. But, eventually, she nodded, shooing him away with her hands. “Fine, but I’m not finishing this shift on my own.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised again, moving to the little door in the circular bar. He weaved his way around customers to Echo. “Hi, I’ll start over,” he began, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’m Tup, Fives is upstairs, I’m taking you to him, okay? Cool.”

Without waiting for an answer (because it had to be yes), he grabbed Echo’s wrist and began tugging him through the throngs of people and around tables towards the “Employees Only” door that led upstairs. Echo didn’t protest. In fact, he didn’t even say much except to add to Tup’s many “excuse mes” and “thank yous” as they pushed through people to get to the stairs.

But once the door had swung back shut again, he pulled Tup up.

“What?”

Echo breathed a quiet laugh. “Hello to you too, Tup. Take a breath.”

Tup released his wrist and let him climb the stairs at his own pace. In doing so, he finally noticed Echo’s boots didn’t look quite right, and it took him several seconds to realize this was because there were no feet attached. The more he looked, he recognized cybernetics from at least the knees down on both legs. “Oh, sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for dragging Echo away or for not realizing what had changed.

“It’s okay.” He put a hand on Tup’s shoulder as they climbed. “How are you both? You and Fives.”

“I’m pretty good,” he answered, silently agonizing over the slower pace Echo had set. “Fives is uh…” He paused, trying to find words that wouldn’t alarm Echo too much. “He’s… been better?”

Echo raised a brow at him, hesitating a step before continuing at a slightly faster pace. “What do you mean?”

Tup sighed. “He’s… I dunno. It’s like he’s…” Words failed him again, and now they had reached the landing on the second floor. The room he and Fives shared was only five doors down. “It’s like he’s hollow, but he’s too full of too much at the same time. It’s why I didn’t want to wait for him to see you.”

Echo nodded, gesturing for Tup to lead on. “I understand. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to wait even if he was okay.”

A knot of anticipation was slowly tightening in Tup’s chest as they approached the door and Tup knocked. He knew Fives was here, and it was technically Tup’s room too, but Fives didn’t like surprises. Anymore, at least. This had to work. If there was anyone in the galaxy who could get Fives out of this person hell he’d put himself in, it was Echo, right? That was how it worked: Echo and Fives, Fives and Echo, the Domino twins, always. Tup wasn’t sure what he’d do if this didn’t work.

______

The first thing that struck Echo about the room was the clear division of lived-in disorder and absent organisation. The room itself was clearly meant for customers and had simply been repurposed to allow Fives and Tup to live there semi-permanently. There were two beds, a connected ‘fresher near the door, a table with two lamps between the beds--all the trappings of a typical (if low-end) motel. But the bed farthest from the door remained impeccably made up in military fashion, there were no personal belongings out that weren’t currently in use, not even a stray sock. It was a CO’s dream, sure, but…

He looked at the other bed--Tup’s bed. It was made, but not impeccably so. There were stray clothes in one corner, a datapad thrown on the covers, little knickknacks on the table beside it. It looked lived in. Tup had claimed this space, a while ago, from the looks of it. Echo remembered the state Fives’ bunk had been in sometimes, the utter chaos happening below his own bunk. What had happened?

“Fives?” Tup stopped where the room widened out to their sleeping area, and Echo stopped behind him.

His batchmate was sitting cross-legged on his bed with a mouse droid in front of him in carefully disassembled pieces, next to a soldering kit and a datapad. He looked a bit like Tech at the moment, except for the distinct lack of goggles and the tank top and shorts.

But it was definitely Fives. Same little tattoo on his temple, same stupid goatee on his chin.

“What’s wrong?” Fives asked, not looking up from the mouse droid’s guts. Echo frowned a little. Tup hadn’t been exaggerating. He sounded… flat.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tup answered. “There’s someone you should see, is all.”

That made Fives look up, and his reaction was instantaneous. He shoved the soldering iron into its holder with one hand while the other found a blaster pistol that had been hidden behind his body on the bed and raised it at Echo. “Who the hell is that?” he growled in a voice Echo had only ever associated with battle. The voice alone was enough to set him on edge, like Fives had just given a warning of enemy incoming and hadn’t just pointed his blaster at him.

“It’s Echo!” Tup shot back, stepping more fully in front of him--between him and the blaster. “Fives, it’s Echo. Maker’s sake, put the blaster down.”

“Echo’s dead, and people lie,” Fives replied in the same stern voice as he rose from the bed to stand at its foot. “Get away from him.” The pistol never wavered, true to ARC standards.

Echo knew he was unrecognizable. When he’d arrived at the RMB on Anaxes after being rescued from Skako Minor, it had been painfully obvious just how much he didn’t look like himself from the way that Jesse and Kix and Hardcase and the others had reacted. Now, with a different haircut, and metal limbs, and no handprint of any kind on his armor, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that Fives didn’t believe it was him. But it still hurt like something vital had just crumpled inside his chest.

“Fives!” There was a note of desperation in Tup’s voice now. How long had they been living like this? Echo remembered the urgency with which Tup had dragged him up here, not even bothering to find out what they were doing here, or if they were a threat to their safety. A while, then.

“Get. Away.”

“No! This is ridiculous!”

“You can scan my wrist if you want,” Echo cut in, holding up his remaining arm. “ID tattoo.” The subdermal pattern of invisible ink would pull up his public military record on any device, displaying his designation and current and previous stations.

This made Fives pause, actually thinking about it.

“Please, Fives?” Tup asked.

After a tense moment, Fives exhaled sharply through his nose, which meant he had relented. He pointed towards a dresser with his free hand. “Fine, grab the scanner.”

Tup took a step forward, then paused to ask, “You’re not gonna shoot him, right?”

A muscle in Fives’ jaw flexed. “I’m not gonna shoot him.”

Tup still moved cautiously, keeping a close eye on Fives as he left his position between Echo and the blaster aimed at him. For his part, Echo slowly moved to take off his vambrace and glove on his left hand, then pulling up the sleeve of his blacks a few inches. Tup stood in front of the dresser between them, fiddling with the handheld scanner.

“Do you wanna do this?” he said to Fives, sounding… tired. Poor kid.

Fives shook his head. “You do it.” It was the gentlest his voice had sounded since they’d walked in. It gave Echo some hope. If Fives could still care this much about keeping Tup safe, the rest of him was still in there. It was just a little buried.

Tup walked over and he held out his wrist for him. The scanner sort of… tickled a bit, after being part of a computer for several months with the Techno Union. It seemed whatever they did to him had made him a bit more sensitive to the electromagnetic spectrum. The stripes of the ID tattoo lit up blue briefly as the device picked them up, and there was a soft beep when it finished.

“Sorry about this,” Tup murmured while the device was processing.

“Don’t, it’s not your fault,” Echo replied with a small smile.

He returned to Fives, holding out the device as a hologram display appeared from it:

ARC-1409

Formerly 501 Legion, Torrent Co

MIA: [unavailable]

POW retrieved from [unavailable] by Gen. Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567, CF99

Reassigned to CF99

It was different than the one Echo had seen, because the GAR devices and droids could pull up his full record, dates included, but it had the important stuff. Echo skimmed the short document, then watched Fives read it through. He saw his batchmate’s eyes hover on the picture in the upper left corner, taken about a month after his rescue. He looked much better now than in that picture. Fives read it through twice, and after the second time through, he reached out and took the device from Tup. The arm holding the pistol lowered its aim from Echo’s head to his feet.

“I have a shift to finish,” Tup said, stepping away once the scanner was out of his hands. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

Fives didn’t respond, just watched Tup turn and leave.

And that left the two of them alone.

For a moment or two, they didn’t move. Fives seemed lost in thought after reading the document, and Echo didn’t want to startle him. Eventually, he clicked the device off and set it down on top of the dresser, the arm with the blaster now hanging loose at his side.

“How did you find us?” he asked quietly, still facing the dresser. His voice was still unreadable to the inexperienced ear, but Echo could hear a difference. He was still wary. But he wasn’t actively threatening him, and that was a distinct improvement.

“Accident,” Echo replied truthfully. “We needed to stop for fuel after a mission, and the boys wanted a drink, so…” He figured the rest of the story was self-explanatory. When Fives didn’t follow with another question, he added, “Do you believe it’s me now?”

Fives’ empty hand slowly curled into a fist on top of the dresser, then slowly relaxed. “I think so,” he answered.

“Can I ask you to put the blaster down?”

His batchmate looked down at the weapon, like he’d only just noticed it. After another moment of thought, he set it down beside the scanner, then finally looked up at Echo. “What happened to you?”

He shrugged. He was used to people staring at him by now, with all his machinery, and even more used to that question. “An explosion and a few mad scientists.” He took a step towards Fives, encouraged when he made no move for the blaster in response. “The Seppies handed me over to the Techno Union after they pulled me out of The Citadel.” He gestured to his legs and head with his prosthetic hand. “They did all this.”

“Why?”

Echo took another step towards him, scrutinizing his face for the tells and signs he had grown up learning. Even ARC training couldn’t hide it all from him, so despite the emotionless front Fives had put up--and had had on since Echo had walked in, he could tell a few things. Most glaringly, he was exhausted. Beyond exhausted, in some aspects. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well, if at all, for days at a time, if the shadows under his eyes were anything to go by.

“To get the strategic algorithm,” he answered, keeping his voice soft and even, giving no signs he could see how bad Fives looked. “The one I made with Rex. I guess they were using it on Anaxes about two and a half months after you and Tup left. Rex recognized it, and that’s how they found me.” Fives nodded. He looked numb behind the exhaustion. He rubbed his face roughly, and Echo took another couple steps forward. “No one’s coming after you, Fives.”

He watched his shoulders tense, hands still over his face.

“I mean it. The stuff you sent to Kix about the chips--you did the right thing. We’ve figured a lot of it out, we know Tup wasn’t in control of himself on Ringo Vinda. We know someone set this whole thing up. No one is coming after you, I promise.”

Slowly, Fives’ hands lowered from his face, and Echo’s heart leapt. Finally, he could see something in his eyes. They were no longer forcefully void of emotion, guarded by walls built during ARC training. It would have made Echo smile, if what he saw hadn’t been such overwhelming loneliness. It made sense now that Tup had described a kind of hollowness. If he’d seen something like it before Citadel, he would have wasted no time dragging his brother into a hug and not letting go until he felt the stress ease from his muscles. But then was not now. Fives was hurting, yes. But Echo had to be patient.

He stayed put as Fives moved again, this time over to the foot of the bed to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bedframe. Drained. “Is Tup mad at me?”

Echo did smile then, a small smile, and a little sad. “Oh, Fives,” he sighed.

Fives, always loyal to his brothers first, and the Republic second. Fives, who had always hated being left alone for any amount of time, no matter how brief. Fives, who had always spent extra time with the shinies after their first battles to make sure they took care of themselves. Fives, who had sensed the chips ran deeper than first thought, and risked his life gathering what he could to save his brothers. Fives, who had suddenly found himself without anyone, except Tup, and had done everything in his power to keep his little brother safe, no matter what it would do to him.

“No, I don’t think he’s mad at you,” he finally said, walking the few steps over until he was standing to Fives’ left. “A little frustrated you did this to yourself, maybe. But not angry.” He gestured to the floor next to his brother. “Can I sit?”

Fives nodded, barely a dip of the chin. “I just wanted to keep him safe,” he said in a very small voice.

“You did,” Echo told him as he sat down next to him, but facing towards him. “You did a great job. No one even thought to look here, no one had any idea where you two had gone.” He set down his glove and his vambrace that he’d been carrying since taking them off. Then he started taking off the rest of the armor on his arm, setting it all in a pile off to his far side.

Fives watched him, curious, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he wanted to know, “What did you find out about the chips?”

Echo frowned as he unclipped the sides of his chest plate and pulled the whole thing over his head. He wanted Fives to relax, to let go of the stress he’d been carrying. Talking about what they’d discovered, and what they had yet to figure out, would just get him thinking again. “Do I have to tell you now?” When Fives’ only response was dropping his gaze to the floor between his feet with a minuscule shrug, Echo elaborated. “Fives, as your batchmate, let me say this: you are dead tired. You look like you’ve been running on fumes--mentally and emotionally, if not physically--for about two weeks. Kix would scrape the medic symbol off his shoulder bell if he let you go anywhere in this state. I would rather wait until tomorrow, so I can make sure you get a good night’s rest and some breakfast, and then I will tell you and Tup everything. Okay?”

Fives knew he was right. Echo knew that he knew he was right. He drew his knees up to his chest and rubbed his face again. “Okay,” he sighed, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Echo smiled again. “You know you missed my nagging,” he said, holding out his hand.

To his utter delight, the corners of Fives’ mouth pulled up ever so slightly. He put out his hand, hesitated a little, but finally let it land in Echo’s. “Yeah, I did,” he agreed, linking their thumbs and holding tight. He let his head fall back against the mattress behind him, avoiding his brother’s gaze, but Echo’s trained eye saw the muscles in his neck constrict, saw the small stutter in his breathing, and he already knew.

“Looks like rain, huh?” he said quietly, squeezing his brother’s hand. It was an old code from Domino’s cadet days. They had all been so damn stubborn, none of them had wanted to admit when they needed a good cry. So, they had used Kamino’s weather as a cover. Fives and Echo had kept it up, even when it no longer made sense on a ship in the middle of hyperspace, for example.

Fives shut his eyes tightly and nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

“C’mere.”

He uncurled from where he sat against the bed and let Echo gather him up in his arms, holding him against his unarmored chest--because he had been pretty sure it would end up like this. Fives pressed his face into his left shoulder immediately, wrapping both arms around his torso and digging his fingers into his blacks. Echo rested his chin on his brother’s hair and put his hand on the back of his neck, holding him there while he unraveled.

How long had it been since he had seen his last batchmate? Something approaching two years at this point. Echo hugged tighter upon remembering that, and upon remembering what it had been like trying to put his life back together after the Techno Union without him. He was determined to keep Fives from going through anything like it now, even if this reunion was far from what he might have imagined.

After some time Echo didn’t bother to track, he felt Fives settle in his arms and heard his breathing descend to a more normal pace. He pressed a kiss to his head and ruffled his hair. As much as he hated hearing Fives cry, this was light years better than the calculating and emotionless man who’d had a blaster pointed at him a few minutes ago. It hurt, yes, but it was human. If it made Echo’s heart twinge a little, it was worth it to know this was normal.

“Feel better?” he murmured. Fives nodded silently, loosening his death-grip on his brother’s blacks. “Can we get off the floor now? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

The noise Fives made was somewhere between a sob and a cough as he sat up from where he’d been slumped against Echo’s chest. But he was smiling, weakly, so it must have been a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

Echo helped him wipe away a few stray tears. “You’re a kriffing mess, brother,” he smirked. “Maybe you can get some sleep until Tup’s shift ends, hm?”

“You’re staying, yeah?”

“Of course I’m staying,” he assured him, a little affronted he would think otherwise. Fives nodded, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. Echo leaned in and felt a shaky breath of relief leave his lips.

“I really need a drink.”

Echo sat up with a smile. “You and me both, but I think sleep will be better for you.”

______

It was a little after midnight by the time Tup had finished his shift and he was climbing the stairs to his room again, this time with three beers in his hands, because he felt bad about whisking Echo off without filling his order. Echo’s new squad was still downstairs. He’d explained what had happened to them, and they had all been surprisingly accepting of it. Echo must have told them about Fives.

He hesitated in front of his door, one hand on the handle. He couldn’t hear anything from inside, which… was probably good, right? They’d had over two hours to themselves. Either they’d settled things, or they’d stunned each other. Well. He pushed the door open, knocking on it lightly as he did so.

“Hey, guys, I’m back.” He walked softly until he was in the main part of the room, then he smiled.

Echo and Fives were laid out on Fives’ bed, the latter tucked safely under his batchmate’s arm. It was the first time Tup had actually seen Fives asleep in weeks. Usually, he was still up when Tup went to bed, and awake before Tup got up. It was also the first time in months Fives had willingly put himself in contact with another person. He noticed Echo’s full kit was piled at the foot of the bed, along… along with his legs, yes. He was still getting used to that.

Echo was blinking sleepily when Tup walked in. “Hey, Tup,” he smiled. “Those for us?”

Tup held up the three bottles. “Yeah. I… felt kinda bad you didn’t get your drink earlier.”

Echo nodded. “Oh, it’s alright. But, I will certainly take that drink now, as soon as I get this lump off my arm.” He waved the hand attached to the arm Fives had pinned down.

Tup walked over and sat down on the end of the bed where Echo’s feet weren’t. “I’m glad he’s asleep.”

“Yeah, me too,” his older brother agreed, rubbing Fives’ shoulder. “But, I said I’d wake him up when you came back.” He patted Fives’ shoulder a bit more aggressively. “Come on, brother.”

It took a while, but it worked eventually. Fives grumbled quietly, at first shoving his face deeper into the pillows before Echo dragged his arm out from under him, then he hauled himself upright. Echo similarly pushed himself up, leaning against his brother.

“Hey, Fives,” Tup said, still a little uncertain.

Fives rubbed his eyes, then blinked groggily at him. Echo ruffled his hair roughly to help him wake up, and a tiny smile appeared on his face. A real one, too, not one of the tight, professional smiles Tup had seen him use in the past. “Hey, Tup.”

A huge smile lit up Tup’s face. Echo had done it. “That’s more like it,” he said triumphantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Fives said, looking a bit sheepish, which was awesome, because Tup hadn’t seen many emotions out of him other than a range of unhappy in way too long. “Sorry about… everything.”

Tup’s smile softened a bit. “Thank you. It’s okay--I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nodded back. “Yeah, well… we’re getting there.” His eyes landed on the drinks in Tup’s hand. Tup had picked out one he knew was a favorite. “Those aren’t being saved for any special occasion, are they?” he asked, gesturing to them.

Tup smirked and held them up. “Just this one,” he answered, and handed them out.

He was about to get up to get a bottle opener, then watched as Echo’s cybernetic hand plucked off the cap like it was nothing. Fives blinked at his batchmate’s open bottle, then held out his to open as well. Echo rolled his eyes, but obliged. Fives smiled again, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig.

Echo held out his hand to Tup, whose bottle remained unopened. “It’s the most hand-like thing this thing can do, please,” he urged, so Tup held out his bottle and let him open it.

Then Fives scooched back to sit against the headboard and gestured Tup over as well. “C’mere,” he said, “I’ve been a dick to you, I should start making it up.”

Tup gave another huge grin and got up to get on the other side of the bed. “Good to have you back,” he said, maybe a little smug, as he kicked off his shoes and carefully climbed in so he didn’t spill his drink.

“Glad to be here,” Fives said, putting an arm around Tup’s neck and tapping their foreheads together lightly. “Good on you for bringing in the heavy artillery,” he added, gesturing with his bottle to Echo on his other side.

Tup could only give a nonverbal sound in reply as he took a drink. Then he sighed contentedly and relaxed against Fives’ side. He hadn’t quite realized how much stress he had been carrying because of Fives, and it was all leaving him in a rush, like he’d just taken off his kit after a twelve-hour march. He felt light, and happy, and safe. And hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before they could really go home, and he could see the rest of his brothers. The thought made him smile as he listened absently to Fives and Echo chat about nothing in particular. Yeah. This was good.

#looks long huh #my writing #my fanfic #tcw fanfic #i write things sometimes #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper tup #fix it fic #domino twins #*cries in loving domino squad* #this au brought to you by: #EVERYONE IS FINE #userblossom

[meridiansdominoes]

So a few weeks ago @thatfunkyopossum introduced me to his Coruscant Guard OC and I absolutely fell in love with him. His name is Grease. Grease is my favorite. I adore him, HENCE I am adding an additional scene into Dominoes that includes him. He might show up a few times in later chapters too, and I’ll make sure to at least give him brief introductions when he does so that anyone who misses this won’t be confused, but this is his original introduction. ANYWAY, here, this’ll be added to chapter uhhhhh 33! The beginning is the same, but it runs right into the extra scene so here ya go! 

_______________________________________________________

The mess hall is subdued when they arrive. The chatter is quiet, serious. News travels faster than a forest fire in clone barracks. Hevy grabs his tray and sits down next to Flak, whose face is twisted in distaste. 

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he mutters, and then jerks when Byte sets his tray down across from them, sliding into the seat. 

“Is it always like that?” Hevy dares to ask. 

“Not usually. There are better places to take captured criminals, it’s a rare occasion when we have to hold someone here although the brig is sizable—”

“No, not that. Those kinds of… comments, I meant,” Hevy corrects with a wince. Byte snaps his mouth shut. 

“Oh,” he says. “That. Yes. It’s true, anyway. He’ll be charged for property damage. Sometimes Thire tries to press manslaughter, but it doesn’t stand legally, so…”

“What!” Hevy hisses, banging his hands on the table and surging to his feet. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Hevy, sit down!” Flak demands, grabbing his arm to pull him. Hevy takes a breath. The eyes of every clone in the mess hall are on him, so he lowers himself back to his seat. Byte is looking at him strangely. 

“Don’t tell me that’s not something you’ve ever encountered,” he says, and Hevy has to take another deep breath to suppress his immediate urge to smash something. 

“It—I… on the battlefield, that doesn’t matter,” he manages to get out. “It’s the front lines, it’s war. There aren’t any charges to be pressed.”

“Hm. Lucky. Sounds so much easier,” Byte says wistfully. Hevy grits his teeth.

“We’re going to fix this,” he says determinedly. Byte raises an eyebrow. He opens his mouth to comment when suddenly he catches sight of something over Hevy’s shoulder and raises a hand.

“Hey, Grease!”

A clone in standard Guard armor jumps at the sound of his name, helmet turning to find Byte. He flinches when he notices the irregular splash of 501st blue and immediately tries to head towards a different table, hands clenched tightly around his tray. Byte leaps to his feet. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that vaguely reminds Hevy of Cutup and Fives.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he mutters, and goes after him like a shot. Hevy shares a bewildered look with Flak. 

“Alright then. Guess that conversation is over,” Flak says slowly, watching as Byte manages to cut the other Guard off. The new clone tries to duck away again, but his movements are hampered by the tray in his hands. He can’t stave Byte off properly. Byte is unfazed by his protests and practically frog-marches his abductee towards their table. A cheerful chirp accompanies their approach. Hevy glances down and blinks when he sees a tiny mouse droid zipping happily at their heels. 

“Sit,” Byte orders the other Guard in a light tone. The newbie hesitates for a long moment.

“We don’t bite, I promise,” Flak tells him. The Guard’s shoulders slump. He sighs audibly and drops into the seat next to Byte in resignation. 

“I can sense your glare, don’t give me that,” Byte tells him with a grin. “Wanna introduce yourself, kid?”

The Guard heaves another sigh. “Designation CT-3489—”

Byte elbows him in the ribs.

“M’Grease,” the Guard amends, disgruntled. Hevy offers him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Grease. You a shiny?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Byte’s expression flicker suddenly. 

“He’s… not a shiny. Not exactly,” Byte says under his breath before continuing. “Grease is a good kid. Real talented with droids. A bit shy, but if you ever need someone to fix up a speeder, he’s your man.”

“The droid is yours, then?” Hevy asks him. Grease glances down, presumably at the droid by his feet. It’s under the table, so Hevy can’t see it. 

“Yes ma’am,” Grease answers. 

“Ma’am?” Flak nearly chokes. “Uh—”

“Eh, that’s what he calls everyone,” Byte says with a wave of his hand. “Force of habit. He’s not the only one.”

“You sure he’s not a shiny?” Hevy says jokingly. Byte chuckles. 

“No, he’s just like that. Right, Grease?”

Grease takes off his helmet just in time for Hevy to catch the exasperated but vaguely fond eye roll that Grease shoots at Byte. Hevy only barely manages to stop himself from making a noise of surprise. Grease looks… oddly young. There’s a mole on his right cheek, and his face is just a little rounder than Hevy is used to seeing on brothers. He must have gotten the good genes. No wonder Byte calls him ‘kid’.

“Grease, huh? How’d you pick the name?” Hevy asks him. 

Grease shrugs. “I like working with machines.” The mousedroid chirps in agreement from out of sight. Flak perks up suddenly. 

“Oh yeah, Byte mentioned that. You like speeders too, right?”

Grease’s gaze settles on him, narrowing in on the oxygen box on Flak’s chest—an armor design unique to pilots. His eyebrows shoot up in realization.

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, ducking his head a little. Flak’s grin widens. 

“Yeah? Maybe some time you’ll have to come look at the bird I’ve been flying. She banks a little too far to the left sometimes, and I’m tired of running recalibrations. It’s gotta be something internal, maybe something with the stabilizers, but I’m not entirely sure. I could use a hand when you aren’t busy!”

Grease nods at him mutely, coloring just a little as Byte chuckles.

“There, see? They’re not that bad,” he urges. Grease shoots him a scowl that is far more endearing than it is threatening. He opts not to respond to Byte’s comment and starts to dig into his food instead with a quiet enthusiasm that Hevy hasn’t seen since…

Huh. Strange. 

Hevy hasn’t seen any clone inhale a meal like that since Kamino, when his limbs had ached from unpredictable growth spurts and his stomach had always seemed to be empty no matter how much he ate. Hevy looks at Grease’s face again and feels his blood suddenly run cold.

“Grease… how old are you?”

Byte winces. Grease pauses in-between bites just long enough to tilt his head in Hevy’s direction.

“Eight and a half, ma’am,” he manages. Hevy inhales sharply. Flak hisses out a curse.

Grease is young. Too young. He shouldn’t be out in the field yet. At that age he isn’t even finished growing completely. Byte’s casual address of ‘kid’ is literal. 

“Are you kidding me?” Flak gasps. “How the kriff—”

Hevy jerks his head over to stare at Byte, seeking an explanation. Byte sighs. 

“Coruscant is… safe. Supposedly. Since we’re not on the front lines and all. They started sending them younger a few months ago. We needed the manpower,” he says softly. Grease nods in agreement. 

“But an entire squad was just killed,” Hevy says in horror. “That doesn’t sound very safe to me!” He tips himself back in his seat, reeling in disbelief. The movement makes his legs sprawl out, and his foot taps the mouse droid, knocking it back a few inches. It chitters at him in annoyance.

“Sorry,” Hevy tells it hurriedly. “I just… that’s so young. Forget shiny, that’s… he should still be a kriffing cadet.”

“I’m good at my job,” Grease interjects stubbornly. Hevy clenches his jaw. There’s nothing that can be done to fix this, not right now. Not yet. 

“I don’t doubt that,” he replies honestly, and some of the tension in Grease’s shoulders eases away. 

“Do you work as a mechanic, then?” Flak asks. Grease shakes his head.

“No, ma’am. I work in the Senate.”

“He’s part of Senator Chuchi’s personal detail. Most of the younger ones get low-risk jobs like that,” Byte says. When Grease scowls at him, Byte holds his hands up non-threateningly. “Whoa, don’t give me that look! I said low risk, not low importance!”  

 Flak hums. 

“That would explain the ‘ma’am’,” he says in amusement. Hevy drums his fingers on the table thoughtfully. 

“Senator Chuchi. I’ve heard good things about her, I think. Do you think she could help us with something important, Grease? Is she sympathetic towards us clones?”

Grease frowns at him. 

“Sorry, ma’am. Not my place to say.” The declaration isn’t harsh, but it’s firm. Hevy sighs inwardly.

“That’s alright. You’re just doing your job, kid, I get it. Thanks anyway, though.”

For a moment, Grease looks surprised. Hevy sees a hesitant flash of pride cross his face before the young Guard shrugs nonchalantly and hunches in on himself again. Byte reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Alright, that’s enough forcing you to be social for now,” he announces fondly. Grease wrinkles his nose at him, but there’s also a subtle hint of gratitude in his eyes that Hevy manages to glimpse as Grease gets back to his food. 

This is just one more thing that needs to be changed. Grease is eight and a half. That’s too young, no matter where you’re stationed. There are too many problems within the Guard, all out of the clone’s control. Hevy shifts anxiously in his seat and quietly hopes that he’ll be able to help with at least one of them before this is all over. 

#dominoes #GREASE IS MY FAVORITE #fanfic

[norcumii]

I'm gonna be predictable and put in a really basic prompt: more Domino!Bad Batch. I don't have an exact prompt other than this, just a bunch of possibilities to choose from? Finding Fives, meeting up with Rex after getting Echo, Rex actually being told Domino is ALIVE??? There's so many ideas.

...this hit 1.6k, I think I can (SHOULD) declare this done. >_>

THANK YOU, THIS WAS AWESOME! For this set of prompts, based upon this plunnie. Armor designs are based on @mercysewerpyro’s gorgeous speculations!

******

“I hate being back here.” Droidbait glared around the hallways, his body language obvious to Hevy. He didn’t respond beyond a click of acknowledgement over the comms, because they all did. Kamino might be home to a lot of brothers, but it just held a lot of hurt and memories for him.

It ached, every time he thought about how they hadn’t been here, hadn’t been able to save their brothers when the Seppies attacked. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing the underside of his left bracer, where 99’s number rested on the inside against his wrist. Cutup saw the gesture, and leaned in to bump shoulders. Hevy rocked with the motion, nudging back with an elbow, and tried not to sigh.

They were specialists, a commando squad that went everywhere and did everything. The past was past, and back then....

He hated to admit it, but their presence might well have done nothing but add to the body count.

Yeah, he hated being back here too. At least this was just another routine checkup, and then they could go.

It still felt so weird, walking through Kamino’s halls in their armor. It was ARC style, bulkier than standard with better protection, pauldrons and kamas, all in their dark gray with subdued – but extensive – dark blue markings. It was better for stealth than the typical white, but it made them stand out like highlighted targets in the endless stark white of Tipoca City. It meant the local brothers – young, you could tell from the body language and the tight way they clutched at their weapons and watched them too overtly – were staring at the squad in a mix of awe and concern.

“There seem to be an awful lot of armed brothers here?” Cutup asked, way too casual.

“Someone’s nervous about something,” Hevy muttered back.

A loud scuffle and a yell behind them had the squad whirling around, hands on blasters but not drawing yet. There was some kind of escort squad there, longneck in the lead – at least, they had been. Some brother in reds had shoved the Kaminoan down, was wrestling weapons from the guard squad in a way that was damned impressive. Sure, garri-troopers were...not the top of the line soldiers, but this guy was good. ARC quality, probably, to get three down that fast without a single shot fired. The restraint was one of the reasons Hevy and the others didn’t draw – the other was something...familiar? Some weird sensation crawling up Hevy’s neck.

The rambunctious brother was arguing with a medical droid, then the Kaminoan slammed an alert button. The hallway lights went red, the brother grabbed the droid and ran, and Cutup cried out.

Droidbait managed words, which was more than Hevy could do upon seeing the fleeing brother’s goatee and temple tattoo.

“Fives! That’s Fives!”

-----

By the time they figured out what was going on, Fives was already en route to Coruscant. Droidbait didn’t bother asking permission; he just sauntered into their ship with a droid in tow, and poor AZI-3 was claimed as part of the team.

On the plus side, he and Reesh seemed to be okay with each other, and by the time they arrived at Coruscant, it was obvious they were keeping him. The intel he carried, though – that was...concerning.

Fives was crazy, but not the kind of crazy that would make up some kind of wild conspiracy theory.

They had a plan, they had a helpful med-droid, and all they had to do was stop being at least one step behind the action.

-----

Fives woke up. He hadn’t expected that. He distinctly remembered getting shot, and it hurt, and then it was just darkness grasping up and pulling him down.

But here he was, waking up. He opened his eyes, and that worked too. The ceiling looked like any other in a transport ship, which meant he could be anywhere. Limbs felt all accounted for, and he was far clearer headed than he’d been when–

When things went bad.

Noise to the side drew his attention: three troopers were there, in dark armor that probably indicated some kind of specialists. Well, they probably had answers.

“I’m dead?” he asked, not sure how death was actually supposed to work.

“No!” a cheerful, familiar voice declared, and AZI-3 floated into view far too close to his face. “You are still alive and now back to almost normal levels of functioning!”

“AZI! You’re–” He bit back a relieved sigh, because he was terrified the poor tinny was going to be recycled. “You’re ok?” He sat up, wincing at that feel of deep pain in his chest, a low ache that meant bacta had been applied and done its work, but it was recent and his body sure as hell remembered what had just happened to it.

“Okay, and part of the squad!” The little droid did a happy twirl, showing off a new paint job that was in the same subdued blue as the troopers.

Fives looked over at the one standing in front of the other two, jaig eyes on his dark bucket and a ‘1’ on  both vambraces. “Congratulations. The squad?”

The leader nodded. “Experimental unit Clone Force 99. The Bad Batch.”

Oh-kay. “That’s a rousing endorsement.” He didn’t mean to be disparaging, but he was still getting over being dead.

The brother on the right shrugged – his bucket had an impressive set of fangs detailed on it, as if some large creature were trying to swallow it from behind. “S’what we get for bein’ weird,” he said, funny lilt to his voice and apparently not caring about Fives’ tone at all.

The third trooper sighed, giving the second one a look. “Unconventional, the word you’re looking for is unconventional!”

Trooper Two’s bucket waggled mockingly at Trooper Three, as if the brother there were making rude faces. Fives couldn’t hear anything, but he was willing to wager a few credits he didn’t have that there was something being taunted over a private channel.

The leader ignored the byplay. “Fives....” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m sorry, I just have to ask: you do realize that you might as well be dead to the Republic? The GAR?”

He’d been trying pretty hard to ignore that. Fives allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and just breathe. “I was raving, wasn’t I.” His voice was quiet, and he’d meant it as a question, though it didn’t come out that way. “At General Skywalker and Captain Rex. I didn’t give them anything coherent, did I.”

The silence went on too long. “I’m sorry,” the leader said.

Fives opened his eyes, and he thought he saw sympathy in the brothers’ body language. “What happened?”

AZI puffed up, the droid ready to infodump in the way that he did, but the third trooper raised a hand in a polite, minimalist gesture to stop – and miracle of the Force, AZI did.

“AZI made up a cocktail to slow down your body’s functions, to let us fake your death” the leader said, crossing his arms. “We’d hoped to snipe you before things went to shit, but – that didn’t go so well. The Guard–” His hands balled into fists, and while it was nice to see this guy had emotions. “No one can figure out why the fuck they weren’t shooting to stun, which is basic fucking protocol, but – they got you. We tagged you at about the same time, swapped bodies en route to the morgue, and now we’re about mid-rim.”

Fives’ hand went up to his chest, to where that ache still lingered. “How close was it?”

“Very.” AZI sounded subdued, which both was, and really really wasn’t an improvement. “Someone drugged you before we did, and the chemical combination was bad. But we worked through that and now you’re back!”

He couldn’t stop himself, frustration boiling over till he slammed a fist against the examination table he was on. “Nala Se,” he growled, because he could at least keep from shouting. “It must’ve been on the transport to Coruscant!”

The Bad Batch was patient enough to let him calm down, then the leader took a step forward. “You’re certain there’s a conspiracy. That the Chancellor is....”

“Bad news,” he growled, brain shying away from that unfortunate memory.

He nodded. “Then I’ve got an offer for you. Fives is dead. We’ll need time; none of us are great slicers but we make do – and we could use a new member to the squad.”

“And you’ll help me stop this?”

“Yes.”

Fives held out his hand. “Then you’ve got a deal.”

The leader grasped his wrist and they shook. “I gotta say.” His voice sounded...off; too thick and almost shaking. “I’m glad. Welcome back to the Bad Batch, Fives.”

“Back?”

The two troopers removed their buckets. The smartass had a neatly trimmed, minimalist beard and mustache, and a wry grin. He was crying, like his brother. That one was cleanshaven, with closecut hair and some kind of snaky tattoo coiling up from the neck of his blacks.

Then the leader took back his hand, and pulled his helmet. He had some impressive old burn scars along the face, but that didn’t obscure the matching designs that wrapped around his neck and up onto his cheeks.

Fives stared at those familiar Z-6 blaster cannons, and on some level through the shock he realized he was crying too. “Hevy?” he finally managed, looking over and registering that it was Cutup and Droidbait, then looking back because this could not be happening. “I thought you said I wasn’t dead.”

He was swamped in a sudden group hug, and through the laughter and tears he could hear his brother. “You’re not,” Hevy promised. “You’re not, and we’re not, and we’ll explain everything, but most of all we are going to solve this. Together.”

~end

#mercysewerpyro #star wars #domino squad #clone prompts #domino bad batch #sass and murder show #plunnie for adoption #ALL THE FEELS #long post is long

[oceanera12]

Fives has the Force (AU edition)

“Ooooh... meteor shower.”  - Hevy (Rookies)

Part 2: Rookies

The Rishi Outpost is… boring. Which is good for Fives. This is something everyone agrees on. Away from Jedi, away from the battles, away from other clones. Fives is hidden away, safe and sound. As such, no one complains, despite how boring and dull the routine becomes.

It also gives Fives time to read through and practice the notes General Shaak Ti left him.

Domino takes turns helping Fives with the exercises. Most of them involve just sitting on the ground and clearing his mind. But even if clones are trained to sit and wait (ambushes, scouting, etc.) just sitting on the ground, eyes closed, and focusing on breathing is so boring.

Of all the Dominos, Droidbait is the one most willing to sit and do nothing. Actually, he grows to enjoy the “meditation” things.

After a week on Rishi, Fives wakes up in a cold sweat, holding in screams and tears. He wakes up Echo in a panic and the next hour is Fives shakily explaining he saw Droidbait get shot, Cutup get eaten by a Rishi eel, and then the Rishi station blow up in a massive fireball with a bunch of droids and Hevy inside.

Echo’s pretty sure it was a nightmare at first. Obviously not fun to watch and concerning. Then Fives has it again a few nights later. And then again. And then he snaps out of one of his “meditation sessions” with it. And now Echo is researching Jedi abilities again and finds something called “Force visions” and he’s just “WELP. This might be a problem.”

Course they can’t tell their commanding officer about it because “clone’s don’t have the Force.”

Also, they don’t know exactly what’s going to happen or how to really prevent it. Or if they even can prevent it. But Force curse it all, they’re going to try and at least be prepared to fight or something!

So Domino is now doing a lot of target practice during their freetime, looking at battle tactics and strategies of invasions of the base, and familiarizing themselves with all weapons and ammunition on the base.

Cutup and Echo team up on researching the Rishi eel’s and also other giant animals looking for ways to kill them. 

Hevy and Fives practice hand to hand almost constantly, getting tips from Sergeant O’Niner who has never seen shinies throw themselves into this much training on a station outpost.

Droidbait throws himself into medical procedures and practices. Some of them he learned on Kamino, but most of them new. 

And unbeknown to all, Fives is trying to lift things with his head. Or at least nudge them. Tripping a droid or edging a grenade closer to it’s target seemed like a good idea. At first, he practiced alone, in his barracks, using a training ball clones used for hand-eye coordination practice. But when he started making progress, he tried tripping anyone who walked by him in the commander center. Sometimes, it worked. But mostly, it didn’t.

It was a month, maybe two later.

Meteor showers happen often on Rishi. About once a week. So Fives doesn’t know exactly why he was on edge. It didn’t help when the sentry didn’t respond to the Sergeant. Droidbait and Nub are ordered to find him.

Out of pure instinct, Fives grabs two blasters and tosses them to Droidbait and Nubs. Nubs looks confused but takes the blaster anyway. Droidbait is immediately on guard.

“DROIDS!”

Twelve Commando Droids vs seven clones (and pretty much zero battle experience on the latter’s account)

Nub goes down almost instantly. Droidbait was able to back up and get towards the command center before getting shot through his arm. He was grabbed by Sergeant O’Niner who threw him back into the room and to cover.

The rest of Domino is able to take out four of the Commando droids before the Sergeant goes down. With that, it’s just Domino. Cutup manages to close the main doors and hardwire it shut. Hevy and Echo carry Droidbait behind the control panel to better cover while Fives readies the emergency supplies the squad had hidden around the base (aka, the backpack of droid poppers and thermal detonators in the ventilation shaft, along with a Z-6 and sniper rifle)

Echo starts working on cutting the all clear signal just as the droids break through doors. Two Commando’s go down instantly from Hevy’s Z-6. The other six began to press in. One manages to get through but is heavily damaged and taken down quickly by Cutup and Droidbait, both covering Echo. The next follow suit. Two more are taken out by droid poppers and some well placed shots.

Three droids remain and Hevy’s gun overheats. Cutup and Fives take the fight to the droids, hand to hand. Droidbait takes a few pot shots here and there. Echo hurries to turn the all clear signal off. 

Everything happens at once.

Droid #1 grabs Fives and throws him clear across the room with a very hard punch. Then the droid pins Cutup to the ground, his arm is snapped in two and then given a few broken ribs for good measure, before the droid reaches for his gun. Droid #2 yanks Echo away from the control panel and throws him across the room. Echo hits his head and falls unconscious. Then Droid #2 finds Droidbait, lifts him by the neck and begins to slowly choke him to death. Droid #3 shoots Hevy through his arm twice, then through the torso, sending the clone to his knees, then to the ground. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Fives finds himself looking at a scene of certain death. He screams, “NO!” and reaches out his hands in desperation, like he can stop it. A shockwave spreads from Fives and it throws all the droids back (think Ezra in Rebels when Zeb is almost killed by Kallus).

Cutup manages to grab his gun in the confusion and shoot his would be killer. Droidbait ignores the pain in his injured arm, grabbing the commando’s head and ripping it from the body with full force (while screaming in pain). Fives is too shocked to recover from what just happened to help Hevy but Echo wakes up just in time to shoot the stupid thing.

No more droids left.

Echo heads to the medbay, leaving Fives to position the three injured Dominos and get Cutup to stay down. The two treat their brothers to the best of their knowledge (Droidbaits the best medic, but he isn’t exactly able to help other than give some friendly advice or things he’d read). 

None of the Domino’s mentions Five’s Force push. Echo doesn’t even ask before he shoots the video surveillance module, effectively destroying all video evidence of the attack.

The radio was destroyed in the fire-fight and the “all-clear signal” button had also been destroyed, leaving it hard-wired at the moment.

Echo and Fives grab a blaster for each injured man, then take the Z-6, sniper rifle, and a few other goodies for themselves. Then they face the door and wait for whatever comes next.

With the radio down, no one receives the call from the inspection team.

When Commander Cody and Captain Rex find a dead deck officer, a few downed Commando droids, and a cut hole in the blast doors, they’re ready for anything. So it’s a bit of surprise to see five shinies (three of them lying on the hard ground, injured but alive, and two of them holding blasters ready).

General’s Skywalker and Kenobi is alerted immediately through the inspection ship’s radio and Rishi is secured in a matter of minutes.

Domino is taken aboard the Resolution, all five being placed in the medbay, despite some protests. Some bacta and rest for a few days fixes the crew right up, ready, and willing, to return to Rishi base. 

Except for one problem:

Rex had asked Echo and Fives to explain what had happened on Rishi. Echo had done most of the talking (as Fives was a terrible liar) and even without the Force visions or powers, the tale had impressed the Captain. 

He had told General Skywalker, who had also been impressed.

Which is how Domino squad finds they are now assigned to the 501st Legion.

Under a famous Jedi General

Around a lot more clones (which translates to eyes and ears)

And in more dangerous situations (in which Fives may or may not do something stupid, whether on accident or on purpose)

...

...

...

None of them can sleep that night.

((Random note that I noticed rewatching Rookies recently: Did anyone else notice when Nub and Droidbait went to look for the deck officer THEY DIDN’T TAKE A BLASTER? Seriously, they just walk down the stairs, come face to face with the Commando droids and yell “DROIDS!” as loud as they can and then they both get shot and die. I mean, I get nothing is supposed to happen on Rishi and they’re all relaxed but TAKE YOUR KRIFFING BLASTER, DANG IT. THEN YOU MIGHT HAVE LIVED LONGER.))

Part 3: https://oceanera12.tumblr.com/post/615352813810302976/fives-has-the-force-au-edition

#star wars the clone wars #domino squad #echo #fives #hevy #cutup #droidbait #rishi moon outpost #rip #nub and o'niner #sorry #couldn't have witnessess #captain rex #commander cody #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #501st legion #brothers in arms #clones #this is fun #don't know where it's going #but excited to see #protect fives #at all cost #but these dominos are surviving rishi at least #i can't help it #fives has the force #au #part 2 #part 3 coming soon

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) i'm a soldier (wounded so i must give up the fight) STAR WARS

(belated) Whumptober no.31 - Today's Special: Torture

Comfortember no.10 - Crying

Echo is afraid to sleep. Everytime he closes his eyes, he’s back there - he’s pinned down on that table, with Wat Tambor’s cold eyes staring down at him as his droid cuts into him, peeling back his burnt skin so that they could study his healing capabilities. He’s forced to watch, all over again, as the droids saw into his skin and remove his damaged limbs. He can’t scream, he can’t move, but he can feel every painful moment as his legs are pulled away at the thighs and his arm at the elbow. He feels the metal being anchored to his bones, drilling into his neck and spine and hips by cold unfeeling droids.

When his eyes are closed, he remembers the feeling of becoming less than human one piece at a time. He remembers his humanity being stripped away until his captors realize that they could have another use for him beyond that of an experiment. Echo remembers the terror he had felt as a computer was drilled into his head. He remembers the cyropod looming over him as he’s wheeled forward on the gurney, the pain of each cord being plugged into his brain, before everything that made him Echo was gone, swept away by a sea of numbers and statistics.

Those memories come back every time he lets himself drift off, to the point that Echo can’t get a proper amount of rest to let his body heal unless he’s been sedated. He’s come to depend on it to sleep, and he knows that his new team is worrying about this. They all need it, occasionally; Hunter’s senses get overwhelming, Tech’s mind works too fast for even him to keep up with, Wrecker get overstimulated and can’t bring himself down from the high, sometimes Crosshair’s aggression turns inwards and it’s the only way to keep him from getting hurt. They all have something that needs to be sedated sometimes, Echo’s just one more messed up trooper among a batch of messed up troopers.

But he’s the only one who can’t sleep without it. He craves the emptiness of the sedative, he needs it. It makes him forget, for a time, that he had been left behind to die, even if no one had known that he had survived his desperate run to get to the shuttle. It lets him forget the agony he lives with every day, the ache from limbs that no longer existed and the drag of too-heavy prosthetics that they can’t replace without the proper parts. It chases away the knowledge that he’s alone.

Echo’s not a reg, not anymore, and not after what the Techno Union did to him. He doesn’t fit in among the 501st as it is now, as much as he wishes he could be. He’s not a mutie either. He wasn’t decanted with his differences like the rest of Clone Force 99, they were an after-product of a different sort of experimentation than what made the others the way they are.

Echo’s an outsider even among outsiders, and it makes him homesick. To him, home had never been a place - it had been people. It had been the 501st, and before them it had been Domino Squad. Home had been following behind Hevy and Fives. Back on Kamino, the two of them had constantly led them into trouble, though it wasn’t to say that Echo didn’t start his own brand - he tended to get nervous and he’d let his mouth get away with him, but Echo was just as capable of talking his way out of trouble as he was talking into it - but Hevy and Fives both had an easy sort of charisma to them that Echo would never have. Home had been snarky Cutup and that annoying accent he picked up from watching some silly holodrama some of the trainers liked. It had been clumsy and painfully shy Droidbait who hated the name he had been given with a passion but wanted it to mean more beyond always being the first shot during training.

But they’re all dead now; Droidbait, Cutup, and Hevy had died on Rishi, before they could see the Galaxy. The 501st has gone through so many changes and so many losses that the brothers he knew is a mere handful compared to what it had been.

Fives - Fives had died while Echo wasn’t there to watch his back. Echo had known Fives was dead almost immediately, he had figured it out when he’d realized that Fives wasn’t there when he woke up after being pulled from the cyropod; he never would have let Rex run off on a half-cocked rescue mission without him. Rex had been hesitant, but he had ended up telling him what had happened.

He had known that Fives was dead, but he never could have been prepared for how.

Fives had lost touch with reality after too many losses and too much combat stress, and had tried to kill the Chancellor. That was the official story, but not one Echo had believed, and neither had Kix, who had told him Fives’ wild conspiracy about a chip in their heads.

Fives had been killed by a brother, he had been shot by the Coruscant Guards and died in Rex’s arms. Fives is dead. He had died when Echo hadn’t been there. He had died thinking that Echo was waiting for him on the other side. Echo hadn’t known he was the last Domino until it was far too late.

His last image of Fives will always be that last glimpse he got of his brother before the shuttle blew up, when he had heard Fives shouting for him to look out, right before heat had licked his spine and the force of the explosion had swept him clean off his feet and thrown him, and all his nightmares had begun. That would always be his last memory of his brother. It wouldn’t be his smile or his laugh, it wouldn’t be his skill in battle or his sharp mind that would be the thing that stayed with him forever. No, it would be his fear. It would be Fives screaming for him to look out and the ringing sound of his own name. It’s the backdrop of his nightmares, mixing with his own screams as he’s taken apart piece by piece, as portions of his brain are scooped out of his skull to make room for a tactical computer.

Fives would have been horrified by what he’s become. He’s half-droid now, not even human anymore, and for a man who had always been one face in a sea of thousands, his forced individuality makes him feel sick. Echo’s horrified by what’s become of him. He looks in the mirror now and doesn’t know who he’s seeing. He doesn’t look like himself, he doesn’t look like a clone, and he hates it.

He hates himself.

“Echo.”

The cyborg is jolted from his thoughts, flinching as he tightens his hold on the hypo in his hands, turning to see that Hunter had stepped into the room that had been assigned to him on the Havoc Marauder when he had joined Clone Force 99. The frown on the sergeant’s face pulls at his tattoo, and he watches Echo with dark eyes. His long hair had been pulled off his face, and he’s wearing his soft sleep clothes, so he must have been getting ready to turn in when he’d decided to come see Echo. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he leans against the door frame.

“Hunter.” Echo greets quietly, averting his eyes to stare at his shaking hands instead.

“You know that’s not actually helping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and it makes Echo stiffen.

“It helps me sleep.”

“It’s not helping you heal.” Hunter says simply, and Echo grits his teeth. “All you’re doing is putting off dealing with the problem.”

Stung by the truth but not willing to admit it, Echo glares over his shoulder to see that Hunter had moved closer while they had been talking. “I need it.”

Hunter raises an eyebrow, slowly choreographing his movement as he lifts his hand to place it on his shoulder. The heat of another person’s touch chases away the phantom chill of the cyropod, and Echo finds himself relaxing despite himself, eyes prickling with unshed tears. “You don’t , Echo.” Hunter tells him truthfully, squeezing his bony shoulder, but not enough to actually hurt. “You’re dependent on it, but you don’t need it.” Echo unconsciously leans into the kind touch, feeling as if he could shake apart. “You can’t lose yourself to this.” Hunter says gently, and Echo lets him pry the hypo out of his numb hands. “We’re here for you, brother.”

Echo falls apart with a sob that tears at his throat and makes the implants drilled into his chest and skull ache. If not for the man next to him, he'd have collapsed when his knees gave out on him. Hunter gathers him to his chest in a hug, and Echo tucks his head to the sergeant’s broad shoulder, hiding his tears and forcing himself to breath.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s Fives hugging him as he cries and rubbing his back, he can pretend it's Fives he smells.

#star wars #fanfiction #whumptober 2020 #comfortember 2020 #cole writes #arc trooper echo #hunter (star wars) #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw fanfic