Chapter Text
* * * THE AZI UNIT * * *
Omega took a deep breath and clutched the Tooka doll closer to her chest. She rolled onto her back to get a better view out the window of the gunner’s nest.
I wonder where he is right now, she thought.
It had been three days since the destruction of Kamino and she couldn’t stop the scenes from replaying in her mind. Crosshair chose to stay on that platform.
"You’re my brother too…"
In the deepest regions of her heart, she wished that the sniper had followed her up the ramp of the Marauder. Maybe he’d be sitting in the cabin sneering, but at least he would be safe.
The Empire obliterated Kamino. Why would they take Crosshair back? What was he thinking?
Omega rolled onto her side. She just couldn’t get comfortable. Every time she closed her eyes she saw water; raging water filling up a room, and she was trapped inside. She opened her eyes and looked down at Lula. I’ll keep you safe, Lula.
Rolling onto her other side, she turned her attention to the ship. She could hear Wrecker’s soft snores coming from the rack below her room, the familiar hum of the air ventilation system, and a few random hisses from Tech’s soldering tools. With a sigh she gave up on sleep and carefully made her way down the ladder from her room. Tech looked up at her with a nod of understanding and tilted his head over to the chair where Hunter had finally drifted off to sleep.
“This is the first time he’s slept in days,” Tech whispered.
Omega smiled over Hunter and moved closer to Tech. “What are you working on? I thought we got your chips out,” she said peering at the old chip scanner in his hands.
“We may encounter other clones who need their chips removed,” he mumbled as he applied a bit of pressure to a small piece of metal and studied it intensely. Hunter shifted slightly in his chair and Tech glanced up to check on him. “Omega,” Tech whispered, “would you please hand me the extra soldering wire? I left it in the toolbox by the door.” As she retrieved the wire, she took a quick peek into the cockpit to check on Echo. He seemed to be focused on reading his datapad, so she hurried back to Tech.
“Would you like to help?” Tech whispered, and she nodded vigorously. Omega leaned forward as Tech explained the modifications he was making to the scanning device. “The properties of these specific metals can help identify the precise location of a clone’s inhibitor chip faster and more accurately, making for an easier extraction. I’ve also been reading through some of my old surgical texts on file, and I think that with the proper equipment, these chips can further be removed with less invasive surgery.”
“Do you think we will find many more clones to remove their chips?”
“I don’t know,” Tech mused, “but I have a feeling that’s something Rex is working on.”
Tech flipped the device to examine his recent weld as Echo stepped into the cabin. “Omega? You couldn’t sleep?”
“No,” she sighed, “but Tech is letting me help with this project.”
“Well, here’s another project,” Echo stated as he handed over his datapad to Tech. He sat down in the chair across from Tech and glanced up at Hunter’s sleeping form. “Omega? Do you know if AZI might have had his memory wiped?”
Tech looked up from the datapad. “You think a previous data wipe is what’s interfering with his system reboot?”
“Yeah. This article mentions that the older AZI models can only handle so many data wipes before it interferes with the function of their CPUs. Otherwise, there should be no problem rebooting AZI.”
Tech began scrolling through Echo’s datapad. “Hmf,” he grunted. “How many data wipes would you need to do in order to damage the CPU?”
“It doesn’t say,” Echo leaned back in his chair, “but I would guess a lot. This is the only explanation that seems to make any sense.” He paused, “Omega, do you know how old AZI is?”
“Not really, but he was with Nala Se for as long as I remember.”
“Was there ever a time where AZI seemed different, or off…or maybe had his memory wiped?”
“I…I don’t think so,” Omega said, biting at a fingernail. She thought back on her experiences with AZI, only to feel the familiar flip in her stomach when she remembered the destruction of Kamino.
Tech lifted his eyes from the datapad to look from Omega to Echo. “The article seems informative, but overall, this doesn’t make sense. Why would Nala Se’s AZI unit have its memory wiped to the point of potential damage?” Tech rubbed his bottom lip with his forefinger.
The silence was eerie as Tech and Echo locked eyes and froze. Echo became rigid, then parted his lips ever so slightly. “Do you think…?”
“Oh,” Tech exhaled slowly, raising his eyebrows.
“What?” said Omega as she shifted her weight uncomfortably.
Echo turned his gaze to Omega and raised his left hand to her shoulder. “Omega, you mentioned that you saw the others - Tech, and Hunter, and- They were all enhanced in Nala Se’s lab?” Omega nodded.
Tech shifted his gaze between Echo and Omega, his mind racing. “Imagine everything AZI might have witnessed in that lab.” He trailed off to a whisper, “How many experiments, tests, operations?”
Echo removed his hand from Omega’s shoulder. “Kaminoan secrets. Kaminoans keep a lot of secrets,” he said bitterly. Omega blinked at Echo, her mind returning to three days earlier in the underwater tube shuttle where Echo had said that exact phrase.
Tech slowly reached up to his goggles, running his fingers over the glass. “Well, not all of their secrets were,” he paused, took a breath, then swallowed, “secret.”
Echo’s eyes widened in the ensuing silence. “Maybe we should discuss this tomorrow, or some other time?” Tech removed his hands from his goggles and nodded.
Echo extended his hand to retrieve the datapad from Tech and took a deep breath. He stood up rather uncomfortably and turned his gaze to a corner wall panel that held the darkened AZI unit. “Tech, I’m running a final diagnostic on the forward systems - it should be done in a few hours. If I shut my eyes for a bit, will you wake me up when it’s done?”
“Of course, Echo. Get some rest.”
Omega watched as Echo gingerly climbed into the bunk above Wrecker. Tech leaned back in his seat and nervously tapped his heel on the floor. His thoughts were fifty systems away before Omega finally broke their silence. “Tech? Did the Kaminoans ever-” but she cut herself off, quickly realizing that she didn’t want to ask Tech the unthinkable question. She already knew the answer in her heart. The Kamininoans had done unspeakable things to her brothers. She too had been hooked up to their machines, and prodded, and subjected to various experiments, but she was never permanently damaged. However, these memories still haunted her dreams, and as much as she wanted to tell Hunter about them, something deep inside held it all back. She had accepted his promise that she would never have to go back to Kamino; that was, until she decided to go there herself.
Omega glanced up at Tech’s goggles. How could Nala Se be so protective of her, yet so cruel with her brothers? Omega’s chest burned with the thought. For all of the support she received from Nala Se - the interest in her education, and the general comfort of Nala Se’s watchful eye - Omega knew that a different Nala Se existed on the other side of the lab’s glass panels. Omega berated herself for her naivety, for her willful indifference. She had allowed Nala Se to shield her from whatever horrors happened in the next room, or down the hall, or late at night as she tried to sleep. Omega knew that she had heard actual screaming, it was not just a nightmare. She chose to push the reality out of her memory, all for the sake of maintaining her little slice of security.
But, Nala Se would never really hurt anyone, right? She was a protector, a medic, and a scientist who created life.
Omega looked up to see Tech staring at her intently. Her brow furled as she realized that Tech knew what she was going to ask; but, did he know that Omega had ignored and denied everything she saw and heard out of fear? Did he know that when she heard screaming, it very well might have been him or any other member of Clone Force 99?
“Omega,” he whispered gently, “come here.”
Tears filled her eyes and she quickly looked away from him. “I think I…already know…”
“Shh, tsk, tsk.” He was on his feet, coming to kneel in front of her. “Shh…” he said again as he gently wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his cheek on the top of her head and stiffly rocked back and forth. Omega wanted to giggle through her tears at his awkwardness, but she found herself holding onto Tech and moving to bury her face in his neck.
“It’s ok,” he whispered. A wave of fatigue seemed to hit her, and she realized that she was resting her weight on him. “It’s ok,” he whispered again. He managed to get to his feet and lift Omega back into his arms. “I’ve got you.”
The strain of her jumbled emotions and lack of sleep over the past week crushed Omega’s mind. She tightened her grip on Tech and closed her eyes. Sleep was fast overtaking her as Tech carried her back to the chair and sat down. By the time she had adjusted to a more comfortable position and released her grip, Tech knew that she was almost fully out. He leaned back in the chair, mentally reviewing the myriad of thoughts racing through his head.
The Marauder was quiet, and it gave Tech some time to think. He leaned further back in the chair and shifted slightly to get comfortable. He had never held a sleeping child before, and he marveled at just how much his life had changed in the past year. This was nice, though. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes glancing between Omega and Hunter in the chair next to them. Tech’s mind darted from topic to topic: the ship’s diagnostics, the AZI unit, the chip scanner, the destruction of Kamino, Omega’s wellbeing, where their next meal and supplies might come from, Crosshair’s choice to stay with the Empire, and his own haunted memories of Kamino. He listened to the sound of Omega’s steady breathing and waited for Hunter to wake up.
About an hour later, Tech was staring blankly at the AZI unit in the corner when he felt something gently squeeze his arm. “Tech?” whispered Hunter, concern on his face as he looked down at Omega. “What happened? Is she ok?”
“Yes, it’s fine.” Hunter studied Tech’s face for a moment then sighed.
Tech shifted slightly. “Echo is running a diagnostic - should be done in a few hours. He wants someone to wake him when it’s done.”
“Yeah, ok. Tech, have you gotten any sleep?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Tech, shut your eyes and sleep. I’ll take watch.” Hunter refreshed the monitor and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s 0400, why didn’t you wake me up?” He glanced over at Tech and half smiled at his already sleeping brother.
* * * * * *
Omega woke the next morning to the sound of Wrecker and Hunter in the cockpit. She slowly opened her eyes and lazily watched the console next to her rise and fall in time with some light snoring. She closed her eyes and smiled. Tech was the last person she expected to hold her overnight; yet curled against his chest, she had slept without a single nightmare. Someone had draped a blanket over her shoulders and she pulled it closer to her face.
“How is that even possible?” Wrecker exclaimed from the cockpit.
“What now?” Hunter grumbled behind Wrecker.
“Echo’s diagnostic. There was no damage to the forward systems of the ship. Forward deflectors are fine, hull integrity is fine.”
Hunter leaned over the console. “So, the Marauder sat on a landing pad while Kamino was blown to-”
Wrecker punched Hunter in the shoulder and finished the sentence “And came out with no damage! HAAA! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”
Hunter exhaled slowly, “That’s a relief.”
“Yeah!” quipped Wrecker. “That will save on repairs - I was figuring we’d have to send Omega back to the gaming tables in Cid’s parlor, haha!”
“Nice…” mumbled Hunter.
* * * * * *
The morning was relatively quiet as everyone found themselves busy with some task or repair. Omega had taken to cleaning AZI. The Kaminoan sea water had stiffened his joints, and the smoke and debris of Tipoca City had clogged every crevice on the droid. She looked into AZI’s darkened eyes then turned to Echo at the console behind her. “Do you really think a data wipe is what’s interfering with his reboot?”
Echo gave her a quick glance, “Multiple data wipes.” He continued to tap at the computer console pulling up files on whatever he was researching. “It’s kind of like scrubbing a wall so much that you take the paint off.”
Omega looked back at AZI’s eyes. “So, you don’t think we can save him?”
“No, we just need to restore the paint. AZI is still in there, we’ll get to him.”
Hunter turned around from the opposite console. “I think we all need a bit of restoring.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched for a moment. “Tech?” he called to the cockpit.
“Yes?”
“I’m sending you some coordinates. Let’s go get some fresh air.” He leaned forward and typed a few items into the console.
“Got it,” Tech replied.
Within a half hour they were walking down the Marauder’s ramp into a lush world of rolling hills, fields, and trees. A wide misty waterfall roared in the background and beautifully colored birds circled in the distance. The entire group seemed to take a collective sigh as warm sunlight lit their faces.
“Wow,” said Wrecker. “How did you know about this place?”
* * * HUNTER * * *
The afternoon of sunlight was the first real bit of decompression for the group after leaving Kamino. Hunter sat on the ship’s ramp, forcefully willing his shoulder muscles to relax, to unclench his jaw, and to breathe deep enough to expand his sore ribs. His injuries from Daro were taking longer to heal than he had expected. He watched Omega and Wrecker exploring in the distance as he listened to Tech and Echo discussing the AZI unit. The theory of multiple data wipes was intriguing, but it sat on the periphery of his thoughts. Sure, the droid could have witnessed untold scenes in Nala Se’s lab, but the information was wiped right? Why are Tech and Echo so hung up on this? They probably should be glad that the data was gone, just as Hunter secretly harbored his relief that Nala Se’s lab was now quietly rusting at the bottom of the ocean. Eventually they would repair the AZI unit and get back to the normal concerns of their current reality.
Cid wasn’t expecting them back on Ord Mantell for a number of days. A bit of rest, processing, restocking, and repairs were in order, along with a call to Rex. He had been unavailable after retrieving Gregor from Cid’s, but Hunter knew they needed to talk. Rex absolutely needed to know what had happened on Kamino.
Why did the Empire need three Star Destroyers to bury Tipoca City? Where are the surviving Kaminoans? Where had the Regs been deployed? Hunter thought to himself. At the same time, Hunter needed to know what Rex was hiding. Where had he been, who is he working with, and why could Rex use his squad’s help - “a tremendous asset,” Rex had said. Would Rex’s mission, or what he viewed as the last shred of the Republic, ever be something Hunter could get involved with? Getting involved would be dangerous, but so is working for Cid. Why not have someone like Rex at your side if you need to do something dangerous? We used to call them “suicide missions,” he thought.
No more of that for us.
Hunter looked over at Echo, arguing with Tech about something on the datapad. One of the last Regs, Hunter thought. “We’re soldiers; what other path is there?” he heard Echo’s voice in his head. Then he looked into the distance at Omega and Wrecker. They were rolling down a hill like barrels, bouncing and laughing the whole way down. “You’re not a soldier,” he remembered saying to Omega not so long ago. Hunter took another deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Nature was always a healing agent for Hunter. Stepping way from artificial light and recycled air was the same as healing with a bacta patch. Inevitably though, his mind returned to Crosshair, and his chest tightened. For four days now, Hunter had fantasized about turning the ship around and returning to that platform on Kamino. What if the scouts don’t see Crosshair? What if the Empire realizes that Crosshair executed his whole squad in the training room? Would they even care, or would they point-blank execute Crosshair for treason in return? Hunter looked down at his hands, trying to focus for a moment. The thought of Crosshair, his actions, his choices, his…venom, infuriated Hunter to no end. Yet Hunter’s mind continually returned to the memory of Crosshair saving Omega and AZI from drowning. No one else could have made that shot, and Crosshair made it of his own free will. Hunter felt nauseated over the contradiction. How could one person elicit so much consternation in him? His best friend; his worst enemy; his brother. Hunter brought his hands to his head and balanced the weight on his knees. Why did this play out the way it did? “Crosshair has always been severe and unyielding,” he heard Tech’s voice reply in his head. “It is his nature. You cannot change that; he cannot change that.” Hunter mentally replayed the look on Wrecker’s face as he shook his head and walked away from Crosshair.
They had been in that underwater tunnel - their lifeline out of Tipoca City. The tunnel had been cold, dark, and ready to shatter under extreme pressure; just like Crosshair, he mused. But then, he heard Wrecker’s voice in his mind, “We would have taken ya’ back.” A slightly more palpable wave of nausea flitted through Hunter’s stomach, and he leaned back to lay on the steps of the Marauder. He closed his eyes and backtracked his memory into the training room with Omega. He had promised that she would never have to return to Kamino. “It’s ok. You did the same for me.” Her sweet smile and her innocent wide eyes had melted his bottled rage and frustrations over Crosshair.How long until that sweet smile is replaced by battle hardened weariness like the rest of us?
A low groan escaped his throat and he stretched his legs out further down the steps. The warm sunlight made him feel sleepy.
“Hunter? Come on, Hunter. You need to wake up.” He opened his eyes to see Tech’s concerned face and realized that the sun had almost set. He was also laying in the grass. “We didn’t think the ramp would be very comfortable,” Tech quipped, “so we moved you here.” He extended his hand to Hunter and helped him up.
The rest of the evening saw Echo and Tech huddled over the AZI unit, tinkering in the droid’s head. Omega continued to fetch tools for them while Wrecker flexed with Gonky. Hunter was tempted to bite - what could be so interesting in that droid’s head? But instead, he continued to monitor the ship from the pilot’s chair. After a while Omega came into the cockpit to sit with him. “What are they doing back there?” he asked.
Omega pulled her knees to her chest. “They think that AZI stored packets of data in his redundant systems.”
Hunter raised an eyebrow and studied Omega. “Packets of data?” he questioned.
“Yeah. AZI would have known that the Kaminoans planned to wipe his memory. They did such things in a specialized room,” she explained. “Tech thinks that AZI hid the information that he didn’t want wiped.”
Hunter gaped at her. She said that so matter-of-factly. He flipped a few switches on the control panel and marched back into the cabin, Omega close behind. “What do you think is on this droid?” he demanded. Tech and Echo sharply pulled their heads out of their work.
“We don’t really know yet,” answered Tech, “but the storage capacity is nearly full. His redundant systems were never intended to store extraneous data - which is another reason we are having difficulty reactivating him.”
Hunter paused for a moment. “What’s your plan? Remove the data?”
“Yes, we are transferring what we can to external drives.”
Echo gestured to AZI with his scomp arm. “We don’t know what this data is, really. It could be directions to 79’s for all we know,” Wrecker snorted a laugh in the background. Echo continued, “but the fact that it’s encrypted and hidden means it was probably stored there by AZI himself.”
Hunter brought his hand to his chin. “I assume you two are going to decipher the data. I want to be there when you open it. I also think we should use a bit of discretion here,” he said as his eyes drifted toward Omega.
“What do you mean, Hunter?” she asked.
When Hunter didn’t reply, Tech spoke up. “He means that we don’t know what we have here. First, the files are presumably private if AZI stored them this way; and second, they might contain subjects of a graphic or disturbing nature.”
“Oh,” she said, “like cloning experiments?”
“Exactly,” Tech replied.
Wrecker finally broke the silence. “Do you really want to see that? Maybe you should just leave it encrypted and ask AZI about it later.” Awkward glances were exchanged around the room. Wrecker had a point. He looked at each of them, purposefully making eye contact, then he shrugged. “I’ll take the next watch,” he announced and headed into the cockpit.
* * * ECHO * * *
A few hours had passed and Echo found himself trolling the holonet and the old Republic databases for information on his Reg brothers. He could feel a familiar creeping anxiety constricting his chest, and he realized that this was probably a bad way to spend his time; but, he had to know. How many brothers have been absorbed by the Empire, lost in their own heads and trapped by their inhibitor chips?
Lost in their own heads, he repeated to himself. A wave of panic overtook him as his mind flashed back to Skako Minor. “Ughhh,” he shuddered out loud.
“What?” asked Tech, continuing to study his datapad.
“Nothing,” Echo replied and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.
Tech glanced up at him, but figured it was best not to press such comments with Echo. Tech felt a well of concern towards Echo. The physical and mental trauma of his past was gargantuan, yet Tech had learned that expressing his concern needed to be tempered with caution and patience. Often his intentions were misinterpreted; the result causing Echo to shut himself off with stubborn resentment.
Quiet returned to the cabin. Hunter was organizing supplies in the hold and Omega had gone to bed. Echo swiveled in his chair towards Tech and studied him for a moment.
Tech was fully aware but chose to continue reading. If Echo wants to talk, he will, Tech thought.
Echo remained still, then finally averted his gaze. He was beginning to feel lost in a sea of jumbled memories. This is never good, he thought. His mind flashed back to their escape from Tipoca City - running, ducking, falling, fleeing, then arguing with Crosshair. Echo really thought they were all going to die down there at the bottom of the ocean.
Trapped.
His mind suddenly returned to his rescue from Skako Minor. The first faces he saw - the first real faces - were of Rex and Tech. Rex had come back for him, to free him from the Techno Union. His mind. Not his body. The aches, the prosthetics, the implants, the icy feel of information entering his neural pathways whenever he used his scomp arm; sometimes it was just all too much.
Trapped.
The monster of psychological turmoil was rearing its ugly head on Echo, once again. Memory and emotion boiled to the surface and he did everything he could to stomp it back down. He felt himself loosing. The continuous battle of existential factions - survivor’s guilt, and a vague desire to just let go and invite death to return him to his Domino brothers where he belonged. Also, an overwhelming sense of humility, that Rex, the Batchers, and a Jedi risked everything to rescue him. They could have died in that extraction, just as he died at the Citadel rescuing that jackass, Tarkin. This only fueled his guilt - why didn’t he have more will to live after such an effort? It’s not that he necessarily wanted to die; he was just…tired. So, so tired. Then, the crushing sense of obligation and duty - his brothers rescued him, shouldn’t he be doing everything in his power to rescue every Reg brother enslaved by an inhibitor chip?
Trapped.
Fives. Rex said that Fives knew about the inhibitor chips. I wasn’t there to help Fives and now Fives is dead. I failed my brother.
Echo noticed the room phasing in and out, and he realized he had stopped breathing under a crush of anxiety. His chest was locked in a vice. The irony - his mind had been freed, only to be enslaved by his own vine-like, constrictive thoughts. Echo forced himself to take a breath, to focus, and to fight the rapidly growing sense of nausea. A wave of dizziness and cold sweat overtook him. Another attack. Not again, not again, again…
“Tech?” he whispered. He didn’t need to say anything more. Tech was already on his feet, catching hold of Echo’s slumping figure and helping him to the toilet.
Omega had been staring at the ceiling of her room when she heard the commotion in the cabin. She climbed down from her perch and looked in on Echo and Tech, then quickly set about gathering some needed items. She drenched a cloth with cool water, dug out the anti-nausea meds from the medkit, and picked up Tech’s scanner. She waited patiently in the doorway of the small washroom, willing comfort on Echo’s heaving frame. She handed her items over to Tech,
“Thank you, Omega,” he said gratefully. She nodded and sat down against the wall across from the washroom, waiting anxiously for Echo’s spell to end.
Tech managed to remove Echo’s armor and pass it out the door piece by piece.
Eventually Wrecker came back into the cabin, “What’s going on?”
“Echo is sick.” A wince of sympathetic pain flashed across Wrecker’s face. and he leaned his head around the door. “Tech, tell me what you need.”
“Stay with him for a moment, I need to get something,” he replied and quickly stepped past him in the doorway.
“I’ll be fine,” Echo rasped as he groped against the wall.
“Like hell,” Wrecker replied. “Come on,” he said as he sat down just outside the doorway and pulled Echo to lean against his chest. Tech returned with a hypo, but Echo pushed it away with his scomp arm.
“No, I’ll be locked in there again,” he mumbled.
“I know,” said Tech. “This is not a sedative, it’s for the nausea.”
“I’ll be fine,” he murmured as he drifted into a semi-conscious state. Wrecker sat up a bit and held Echo from falling over. Tech sat back on his heels and scanned Echo’s vital signs.
Omega came and stood behind Tech. “Should I set up the medical cot for him?”
“No,” Tech replied, “I think he’ll be more comfortable in his own bunk, but let’s keep him still for a few moments.”
Wrecker looked over at Tech. “We’re falling apart, aren’t we?”
Tech studied Wrecker for a moment in thought just as Hunter entered the cabin. “What happened? Why didn’t someone come get me?” He knelt next to Wrecker and touched the back of his hand to Echo’s forehead.
Tech replied, “The nausea came on him rather quickly.”
Hunter sat down next to Wrecker. This wasn’t the first time Echo had had one of these episodes. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his eyes. “Failed leadership,” Hunter heard Crosshair’s voice in his head.
“So now what?” Wrecker broke the silence. Echo suddenly sat up and made a quick scramble to the toilet for another heave. “Yeah. That seems about right,” Wrecker quipped sarcastically. Omega let out a short gasp, and Hunter put a hand to his face and released a quiet grunt.
Tech looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “Would you like that hypo for nausea now, Echo?
Wrecker let out a hearty laugh and climbed into the washroom to be with Echo. “I got you, buddy.” Wrecker knelt down behind him and gently put his hands under Echo’s arms. Echo was losing the ability to hold himself up to the toilet.
“Thanks Fives,” he mumbled. “Might have had a little too much to drink...”
Wrecker spun his head around to Tech. “Is he delirious? Dreaming?” he whispered. Tech inched his way around Wrecker and squatted beside Echo, running a quick scan on his vitals. He then injected the anti-nausea medicine into Echo’s neck.
Echo’s head wavered above the toilet. “Tech?” he mumbled.
“I’m here,” Tech replied gently. “Do you want to lay down and get some rest?”
“Hmf,” he replied, his eyelids drooping. Wrecker pulled Echo upright and Tech gently wiped off his face with the damp towel, then Wrecker carefully lifted Echo and carried him to his bunk.
Echo shivered as Wrecker set him down. “They want to know about the Jedi on Corascant. I locked that information. It hurts so much…but I won’t tell,” Echo murmured. “It’s so cold in here.”
Wrecker reached for an extra blanket to cover Echo.
Tech raised an eyebrow and firmly gripped Echo’s left hand. “Echo, listen to me. That place is gone; Wrecker blew it up. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Hunter came to stand beside Tech. He put his hand on Echo’s forehead again. “You are safe now, on the Marauder. The cabin is warm. We are all here. You are not alone,” he coaxed gently. Echo’s breath hitched slightly, but he closed his eyes, covering the vacant expression that had glossed over his face.
Omega looked on at the care her brothers proved for Echo. Something fluttered in her chest whenever she acknowledged that they have nightmares too. Her heroes were human, and her heart ached with the realization of just how much they all needed each other.
Omega remembered her first night on the Marauder after escaping Kamino. She was too excited to sleep, so she was awake to hear Echo struggling in his bunk, unconsciously mumbling, “CT1409, CT1409, CT1409,” over and over. He was confirming his very existence to anyone that would listen, and also to himself - so he would not forget. Hunter later explained to Omega that Echo occasionally experienced flashbacks of his captivity on Skako Minor. She remembered how nervous Hunter had been to explain such things, especially on her first day with the Bad Batch, but she understood more than he knew. Echo had flashbacks, just like hers when she remembered being locked in a tangle of Kaminoan medical machines. It was always cold in there. It was both terrifying and boring, and it was exceptionally claustrophobic. She had pushed the memory back into the recesses of her mind, smiled at Hunter, then continued to explore the ship.
Omega walked over to Echo’s bunk and stood with her brothers. She put her hand on Echo’s chest and further understood his plight. While she was generally given breaks and respite from the Kaminoan machines and tests, Echo was never given rest. All day, every day, locked in a frozen tube - trapped with whatever devious intelligence was plugged into his head, manipulating all of the switches.
* * * THE VENATOR * * *
No one got much sleep that night. They took turns hovering near Echo. Omega had dozed off for a bit in the co-pilot’s chair, then got up to stretch her legs and check on her brothers. She looked around for a few minutes, quietly observing, then she fumbled about to collect a few things. She came to stand next to Tech, who was engrossed in the computer monitor. She leaned over him and gently set down a cannister of water and a pack of pain meds on his console.
“Omega, ad’ika,” he mumbled and looked up at her. “How did you know that I have a headache?”
“You’ve been rubbing the side of your head for a while now.”
“Ah.” He unwrapped the pain meds, swallowed the dosage, then took a long swig of the water. He paused for a moment to study her. Intuitive, he thought, so much like Hunter. “Thank you,” he said and gently patted the side of her arm.
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking up at the monitor.
“Well, do you know what this is?” he said carefully.
“Something that’s giving you a headache?” she replied just as carefully.
“Hmf,” he chuckled. Omega hadn’t heard Tech laugh in a long time. It made the tension in her shoulders relax a bit. “This is the information that we copied from the Venator on Bracca. Tell me what you see, Omega.” She took a few moments to look over the monitor.
“Manifest, ship logs…What’s that file, Tech?” she pointed to the monitor. “That looks like the kind of encryption Nala Se used when exchanging messages with Coruscant.”
Tech nodded and smiled. He reached to his side to pull up a chair and he gently patted the seat. She grinned and jumped into the chair.
“Let’s take a closer look at this,” Tech said as he manipulated the monitor to highlight the file. “Tell me what you see now, Omega.”
“Well,” she paused, “these numbers are a dating reference from about five years ago. There’s no info on who this was sent to, but we do have the ship’s manifest, right?”
Tech nodded and tapped the console to pull up the manifest. “This is the manifest that matches your dates,” he said.
Omega scanned the list of names. “Is that all of the names? Where are the-” she paused then looked over at Tech. “Would a Venator ever run without a general, or commander, or captain?”
“Excellent observation. Now, here is the manifest from a month earlier.” Tech typed a few commands into the console and pulled up a separate list that included a number of clone trooper call numbers and their commanding officers.
Omega shifted in her seat. “What happened to them?”
Tech leaned forward and called up the ships log entries, and Omega began to read, “A hyperdrive malfunction? …return to port for repairs… This dates from a few days after the encrypted file was sent.”
“Yes,” Tech replied, “Now here is where things get interesting. The old Republic database records this ship as deactivated and decommissioned due to the hyperdrive failure. The clone forces and commanders were reassigned to another ship. Yet when I pulled up the ship’s navigation records,” Tech paused as he quickly typed at the console, “I found this.”
Omega pulled her chair closer to the monitor. She noted the date when the ship had returned to port, then she reached over to the console and began to scroll down through an endless list of planets and navigations. She clicked back to the manifest and studied it again for a few moments. “Who are these people? They took the Venator all over the galaxy.” She looked over at Tech and continued, “So they rode around, then scrapped the ship on Bracca?”
Tech reached out to the console and pulled up the navigation records. “Tell me what else you see here.”
Omega squinted at the list for a moment. “Their favorite place to go was a planet called Weyland. They kept going back to the same place.”
“Mm-hmm,” nodded Tech. Omega reached over the console and scrolled further down the list. “They kept going back to Weyland; looks like they did this for about a year.”
“What’s your next step Omega?”
“Well, where is Weyland? What’s it like there?”
“Hmmm,” Tech smiled as if he were savoring a fine wine. He pulled up his records of Weyland on the monitor.
Omega read the information, “Outer rim planet in the Ojoster Sector, rotational period of 23 standard hours, orbital period of 353 local days, terrestrial class; a lush semi-tropical planet.” She studied the picture of the planet. “Ok, so what are these other places?”
Tech reached over and pulled up a separate file he had started. “Some of these are trading ports, factories, mines…and some of these are obscure places with very little civilization. I’ve been digging through these planets for a few days now.”
“Tech, do you think we could get Hunter to take us to Weyland, or at least let us go visit?”
Tech swiveled his chair to look at Omega directly. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he replied in a vaguely haughty tone.
Omega took a breath, “Well, we would need more info, of course…” She scratched the back of her neck. “These missions with the Venator happened years ago. Do we know where it used to land?”
“I have the coordinates,” Tech replied, “but let’s take a moment to think here.” His large golden-brown eyes peered at Omega, “What does the strategist in you think?
Omega was a little taken aback and she squirmed under Tech’s piercing gaze. She sat back in the chair and tapped her fingers on her knees. She then looked up and returned Tech’s gaze. “So, a Republic Venator receives an encrypted message file, suddenly has a hyperdrive malfunction, then dumps its crew. The ship gets listed as decommissioned, takes on a new crew without Republic command, then travels to mines and trading posts, returning to the same planet in the Outer Rim. I would guess that someone was building up a secret stash or a base of some sort.”
Tech smiled. “Excellent work. So now, who do you think was building a secret base, potentially?”
Omega looked over at the image of the planet on the monitor, then back at Tech. “I would guess the Empire, but this was built 5 years earlier,” she frowned.
“Strategy Omega,” Tech seemed to whisper. “How long before Order 66 were the clones fitted with inhibitor chips?”
“Years?” Omega answered tentatively.
“Where did the message originate?”
“Coruscant.” She paused for another moment. “You think this was Palpatine?”
Tech nodded. “That’s my guess.”
Omega smiled, “Ok, yeah, maybe not the best place to go for a random visit.”
They sat in silence, then Omega asked, “So what is in that file message then?”
“I don’t know,” Tech replied, “but it’s protected with one of the toughest encryptions I’ve ever seen.”
“Is that what caused your headache?”
“Well, among other things.”
Tech studied Omega’s face for a moment. “Why don’t we try to get some rest and we can work on this encryption in the morning.”
“Sure!” she replied. Then she paused, “Tech, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“I want to ask you about something, but I don’t want to make you angry with me.”
“I promise I won’t get angry with you,” he said in his characteristic staccato, matter-of-fact voice.
Omega took a deep breath. “You already know how to open AZI’s files, don’t you? You just…you just don’t want to know what’s in there; or you already know and don’t want us to see?” Her eyes darted to the floor as she waited for his reply.
“Oh, Omega,” Tech sighed. he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. So intelligent, he thought. He slowly opened his eyes and observed her for a moment.
She watched him nervously, then blurted out, “I’m sorry, Tech.”
“No, no, no - I am not upset at all. You are right - I can open the data, I do know that there are…atrocities…in AZI’s memory, but I don’t know everything AZI stored, and I don’t know how…devastating…it might be to see. I think Wrecker had a point about leaving things well enough alone. Yet, I admit that I can’t stop thinking about it.” He paused to observe Omega’s reaction, then continued. “Echo doesn’t know this, but when I was younger, I got myself into some serious trouble hacking into Kaminoan files…on more than one occasion. Since then, I’ve learned to be far more…cautious with my curiosity.”
Omega looked into his eyes and waited for him to continue, but he did not. His face seemed pained with memory, then he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s check on Echo and get some sleep, alright?”
“Ok,” she replied.
“Tech? Can I sleep next to your bunk tonight?”
Tech did a bit of a double take, then he leaned forward to look into her wide, innocent eyes. “You do not wish to be alone?”
She shook her head. “I promise I’ll be quiet. I won’t bother you.”
Tech could almost feel his heart melting - a very unfamiliar sensation that he mentally added to his list of experiences to contemplate later. He gently reached out for her hand. “I’ll do one better,” he said. “You take my bunk and I’ll pull the chair over to sit between you and Echo. Just give me a moment to check on Hunter and Wrecker, and to confirm the watch.” Omega nodded and sighed with relief.
* * * WRECKER * * *
Wrecker glanced over at Hunter who was lightly snoring in the co-pilot’s chair. He flipped a few switches on the dashboard and stood up to stretch. The Marauder was quiet. "We’re falling apart, aren’t we?" he heard his own voice in his head. Wrecker made his way back to the cabin to check on Echo and found Omega in Tech’s bunk and Tech dozed off in a chair between the racks. Tech’s left arm rested on the edge of his bunk and Omega’s tiny hand was wrapped around his wrist. Wrecker leaned over to pick Tech’s datapad up off the floor, unsure if Tech had set it there or dropped it in his sleep.
Tech. Wrecker felt the familiar sense of freefall in his stomach whenever he saw Tech sleeping. His most vicious memory always returned - that awful night on Bracca when the inhibitor chip finally overcame Wrecker’s mind. He took a deep breath and sat down. Everything about that night haunted him. The sequence of events played itself over and over, every night, and even sometimes in his waking hours. The feel of Tech’s throat constricting in his left hand - it was effortless to do with his strength - just as it was effortless to lift Tech off the ground with one hand. The chip controlled his movements, as if it were piloting a ship, yet it was backed with its own sinister and elusive intelligence.
The chip used Wrecker’s eyes to watch Tech struggle through his last moments of awareness. The chip was fascinated with the choking, ragged gasps that vibrated through Wrecker’s left hand. Wrecker remembered watching Tech’s lips turning blue, but Wrecker was trapped in the back of his head screaming, “STOP!”
How long until the chip finally lost interest and slammed Tech into that back wall? An eternity? Then, the chip moved Wrecker’s body to collect his weapons and helmet, and to start in after the rest of his brothers.
Wrecker stood up and looked around the cabin, hoping to distract himself from these memories. “But Wrecker, I’m your friend,” he heard Omega’s terrified voice in his head. I almost shot her, he thought for the hundredth time. He looked over at Tech sleeping in the chair, and he heard Tech’s calm voice reassuring him the following day. “This wasn’t your fault; if anything, it’s my fault. I should have realized that your chip was activating when you had all those headaches.” Of course, Tech would put the blame on himself. I strangled him within a hair of his life, and he was still concerned with making me feel better.
The next horrid memory flashed into his mind: the sad and pleading look in Hunter’s eyes as the chip slammed Hunter’s head against the wall and crushed his throat. Wrecker shook his head in disgust. Why wasn’t I stronger than the chip? Hunter and Tech, and even Echo the Reg, maintained their will over the chip. And I’m supposed to be the strong one? he thought bitterly.
Wrecker reached into his bunk and pulled out his blanket, pausing for a moment to feel the soft fabric. But Crosshair couldn’t fight his chip either. Wrecker abruptly pushed that thought away. He turned back to Tech and gingerly placed the blanket over his legs and chest. Wrecker found his canteen next to his bunk and took a long drink of water. Crosshair. Crosshair had his chip removed and chose to stay with the Empire. Why? Wrecker thought back to their cadet days and remembered the lanky teenage version of Crosshair. He was always ready with a snide remark. He was always ready to pick a fight with some Regs and Wrecker always had his back when Crosshair went too far. Wrecker sighed. This time Crosshair went too far, even for Wrecker.
He wandered about the cabin, then returned to the bunks to look in on Echo again. The contours of Echo’s face were the same as every Reg Wrecker had ever seen. No more men would be created with that face. Kamino and the long-necks were gone.
His mind suddenly remembered his last night on Kamino - Imperial Star Destroyers firing on the city, the hallways going dark, the floor tipping to vertical as he and his family were flung into a cascading waterfall of debris. He remembered his terror of heights kicking into gear as he found himself hanging from a broken wall panel, frantically trying to assess whether everyone else managed to hang on.
Hanging on.
The torture resistance training of his cadet years held nothing in comparison to the fear of losing his family. Wrecker would have endured any Kaminoan training exercise if it meant that Omega and their brothers never had to look down at their feet and see a gaping, black abyss.
What the hell was all this for? The same question plagued him every time he was on the late watch. It’s too quiet, he thought. Quiet makes my thoughts go dark.
What he wouldn’t give to hear Tech ramble on about some plant or mechanical system, or Echo complaining about the lack of supplies or his thoughts about Cid and her operations. Or even the grating sound of Hunter’s vibroblade being manipulated for hours on end, or even Omega’s constant stream of questions.
I don’t like the quiet, he thought. Wrecker pulled another blanket off the shelf and carried it to Hunter.
* * * CONFUSING WORDS * * *
The next morning Echo seemed a little worse for wear. He apologized profusely for the commotion caused by his panic attack and sickness, but no one paid him much attention. Finally, Hunter put a hand on his shoulder and grounded him. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been sick with sensory overload and these guys held my head over the toilet? We’ve all been there. Hell, if I had a credit for every time someone on this ship got sick, we could buy our own Star Destroyer.”
Echo couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile.
The rest of the morning saw Hunter and Tech running an inventory list while Echo and Wrecker finished up some routine maintenance on the ship. Most of the repairs had been completed within the first few days after Kamino. Those days were the hardest to process. Crosshair’s voice was in all of their heads, “This changes nothing….I’ve made my decision.”
Omega sat in the gunner’s chair with a datapad, looking up further information on Weyland, but her thoughts continued to drift towards Crosshair. He saved her life. He didn’t have to, but he did. “Consider us even,” he had said in that raspy, snake-like voice of his. Omega’s thoughts returned to those first few days again - Wrecker had hardly said two words. Echo had spent hours looking at his datapad full of old pictures - his brothers from the Domino Squad and the day he and Fives were promoted to ARC Troopers. Tech had also been quiet, focusing his attention on the ship and its various systems; but, Hunter. He seemed to lose himself for those few days. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat much, and he locked himself in the shower a few times.
The first night he drank almost a whole bottle of something that had come from Cid’s bar, and he spent hours rambling with Tech and Wrecker about their time with Crosshair as cadets. Omega loved the stories, but Hunter’s voice and words became slurred and difficult to understand. At some point, Wrecker came and picked her up, “Ah, you don’t need to hear all this,” and he carried her into the cockpit, sat down, and promptly fell asleep. Eventually Hunter stopped talking and Omega made her way back to the cabin. She helped Tech and Echo tend to the unacknowledged bruised and fractured bones Hunter had suffered when he fell down the mountainside on Daro.
The extreme relief that Omega had felt at having Hunter back was strangely shattered by his bewildered look and glassy eyes. Some of the drink was left in Hunter’s bottle, and Echo upended it into his own mouth. Omega helped Tech with Hunter’s bandages, Echo changed Hunter out of his torn and bloodied blacks, and Tech fixed Hunter a special tea to help him relax.
Omega looked back down at her datapad and tried to recall Hunter’s drunken stories. He had used some words that she didn’t understand or recognize. She thought for a moment, then began to look up any galactic research sources that discussed Kamino and its cloning operations. Omega knew that Hunter had mentioned the rigorous training imposed by the Kaminoans, but Wrecker had carried her out when he started to reminisce on some of the specific challenges posed to the team. Clone Force 99, specialist commandos… Omega rubbed her finger against her bottom lip. Enhanced clones, genetics, Nala Se, super soldiers… She began typing a number of key words into her data pad, looking for any information that might have leaked out of Kamino or appeared in some scientific journal. She swallowed and hunched over the datapad. She knew this would take some time, as Kamino was never part of front-screen news anywhere. After a while, she turned to journals on military psychology and typed in a few keywords along with combat training. Hundreds of sources popped up, including a number on positive vs. negative reinforcement. These led to more obscure articles on mind control, dissociative coping mechanisms, and the effects of inducing pain to erase instinctual fear responses. Omega leaned back in the chair and tried to make sense of what she was reading. Somewhere in the back of her mind were things she had forgotten. Important things.