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The regs watch with distaste as the Batch passes them by in their path to the mess hall from the hangar, where the Marauder ’s engines cool.
Though Tech is focussing on his datapad, he still catches sight of Echo’s eyes flickering around uneasily, and can feel how he shifts beside him. Echo’s never had to deal with the stares or the whispers of the other clones before, at least not in the same sense as the rest of Clone Force 99- he’d always been one of them. Until the Citadel explosion that Captain Rex had presumed him dead in. He’s half machine now, and looks very different than the other regs.
But Echo is the only one who shows discomfort. The others have dealt with it year after year, and they know how to ignore it, how to keep their thoughts elsewhere. Hence why Tech’s attention is on his datapad.
The cyborg keeps his questions to himself for the time being, following along with the Batch- because he’s one of them now. He probably has the assumption that he shouldn’t be bothered about the situation as long as the others aren’t.
Tech’s impressed by how long Echo remains silent, not opening his mouth until they’ve sat down at one of the tables and began to eat. “So, uh...Are they always like this?”
“Yep.” Wrecker replies cheerfully, mouth full. “All the time.”
“You get used to it.” Hunter tells the former ARC trooper.
“Intimidating, isn’t it, reg?” Crosshair snidely questions. “You know, because getting stared at is different than doing the staring .”
Echo’s eyes widen at that, and he nearly spits out his food as his eyes narrow at the accusation.
“It would be nice if we could eat today.” Tech intervenes, trying to stop the fight before it begins.
“Tech’s right.” Hunter’s voice is stern. “Focus on your food, not each other. It’d be great if we could get out of here without causing a scene, for once.”
Crosshair opens his mouth.
Hunter cuts him off before he can speak. “Crosshair. Eat. Leave Echo alone. He’s one of us now.”
The sharpshooter sneers, casts his burning glare down at his tray as he shoves his fork into his mouth. “Whatever you say, Sergeant.”
Tech winces at his tone, pushes the uneasy thoughts aside.
“Listen up.” Hunter barks.
They’re in their barracks again. Crosshair’s cleaning his Firepuncher, Wrecker’s lifting the gonk droid, Tech’s working on a project at the main table, and Echo’s on the floor painting his blue and white armor to match their red and black. They all pause, glancing up at the sergeant where he stands just inside the door.
“Where we goin’ next, Sarge?” Wrecker asks.
“We’re being shipped out to Kashyyyk tomorrow.” Hunter tells them. “Lots of droids. We have to train with the Wookies and exchange military tactics with them before the invasion reaches the position of their base. Tech, do you have their language programmed into your armor?”
“I hope you already know the answer to that question.” He confirms.
“Good. Echo, you think your cybernetics can handle jungle terrain?”
Echo glances at Tech.
Tech nods.
“Wrecker, how’s our explosives stock looking?” Hunter continues.
“As full as she’ll get!” Wrecker grins.
“We might need all of them. Cross-”
“-Yes, I have enough shots to get us through it.” The sniper answers the unspoken question.
“Alright, good. Tech, Echo, don’t stay up too late. We’ll all need to be well rested by the time we get out there- the flight’s only a few hours.” Hunter concludes, dimming the lights enough so that he, Crosshair, and Wrecker will be able to sleep as Echo finishes repainting his armor and Tech finalizes readjustments of some of his armor’s systems.
Once the others have drifted off into sleep, it’s quiet. The sounds of Echo painting and Wrecker snoring are the only noises made. Even Tech is near silent as he works.
He finishes correcting his slightly-delayed comms, flies through repairing the heat signature detection in his helmet’s visor. He eventually ends up pulling off his goggles to transfer some of the files from his recorder over to his datapad. He absently watches Echo paint as he waits- it’s not like he needs to really see to watch him anyway.
Echo catches him watching. “You need something?”
“No.” He replies. “I am just waiting for some files to transfer onto my datapad.”
“Oh. Well, I’m almost done.” The former ARC trooper brightens a little.
Tech nods. “I can see that. The colors go well with that helmet.”
“I thought so too.” Echo says. “I just have a few more details to finish up. Is there anything I can help you with after?”
“I will need to stop by the hangar and refuel the Marauder, but that is all.”
“That’s a one man job, isn’t it?”
“It is, though you may accompany me if you wish.”
“No, it’s fine.”
They fall quiet again, the conversation dying as Tech’s datapad gives off a small beep to confirm the completion of the file transfer. He doesn’t bother putting his goggles back on as he disconnects the recorder from the datapad, knowing he’ll be retiring for the night shortly himself. He sets to organizing the new files instead.
It doesn’t take Echo long to finish painting- he finishes long before Tech’s even close to finishing organizing the datapad’s files. I should really sort these more often.
“If I want these to be in one piece tomorrow, where should I leave them?” Echo asks.
Tech almost smiles at the wording, but knows that the reg has a point- with Wrecker around, it’s more than likely that the paint will be half gone in the morning if the armor’s left in the middle of the floor. “You can put it on the table.” He says, gesturing to an empty space on it.
Echo handles his armor with care, gingerly setting each piece on the table one by one. Tech finds that the paint really does suit the helmet shape, and feels a satisfied pang at the white 99 proudly displayed on the front of it. The former ARC trooper’s taken almost no time in coming to think of himself as one of them.
“So,”Echo begins, settling himself in a seat across from him,“Is it actually normal for the other clones to act like that to the rest of you?”
“I’m afraid so. Apparently, in an army full of the same face, it is possible to be too different from the rest.” Tech tells him. “Though, it is not as much of a problem now as compared to when we were cadets. Adolescent clones are very unforgiving when it comes to bothering others.”
“Everyone I’ve known has only ever encouraged individuality. I never thought it could ever be the other way around.” He murmurs, slowly looking up to try and catch Tech’s gaze. “That’s not fair. I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing for you to apologize for, Echo. It is what it is, as it always has been. We have coping mechanisms. It does not bother any of us as much as it used to."
“It’s still wrong.”
“Yes. I suppose it is.”
“It’ll always be part of our lives.” Hunter speaks out of the blue, startling them. “But you’re one of us now, Echo, and it’s something that you’ll have to learn to deal with too. As for Crosshair, he means well. He’ll warm up to you soon enough, I promise.”
Tech grabs his goggles and leaves them to talk. He needs to refuel the ship anyway.
Kashyyyk is quite the interesting adventure.