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This has been happening ever since you were a kid. Pretty frequently, too. It’s easy to grow used to something the longer it goes on, as annoying as it is, especially something so unavoidable. Still, sometimes, and especially in such confined spaces, you feel a pang of guilt bubble up behind every-
Hiccup! The force of it drives your shoulders up before they fall heavily to a slouch as you sigh. You shut your eyes, hoping that the squad you’ve been accompanying for the past month isn’t currently typing up a request for a much quieter weapons expert. They’ve all been polite about it so far – to your face, at least – but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t catch the Sergeant, Hunter, quietly leave the room from time to time.
Thankfully, you’re much quieter than usual as the members of Clone Force 99 converse around you and the Havoc Marauder cruises through hyperspace. Another small hiccup rocks your shoulders as you review the schematics of the Separatist base on your datapad and draws the attention of the 99’s gentle giant, Wrecker.
He breaks away from a conversation with Echo rather abruptly to ask you, yet again, “Hey, want me to scare ya?”
It doesn’t help your hiccups, but it does put a smile on your face. “We both know that doesn’t work, man, but you can give it a shot,” your laugh is interrupted by another hiccup, a tired grin taking over your face with a sigh. Wrecker returns your lopsided smile and nods, turning to Echo to continue their conversation. Your gaze returns to the datapad in your hands. Just as you’re ready to get back to planning the next phase of your attack, Wrecker stops mid sentence, he jumps in front of where you sit with a loud boo! Eagerly awaiting your reaction. You look up from your datapad, not wanting to break the big guy’s heart, you put on your best scared face and pray your body doesn’t betray you. Of course, after a few seconds of clutching your chest in mock fear, you let out a loud, cartoonish hiccup and his shoulders sag in defeat. You let out a sad little laugh and a gentle, “Sorry, Wrecker.”
Wrecker only nods, before returning to his conversation with Echo in earnest this time, dejectedly plopping down in the seat beside his brother. Echo laughs, patting Wrecker’s shoulder, “You’ll get ‘em next time.”
You sink further into your seat and try to focus on your datapad, most of the time it's a distraction that really helps. It’s not long before Hunter emerges from the other end of the ship to go over plans for the next mission as Tech pulls the ship out of hyperspace and descends upon the planet below. Thankfully, your hiccups subside at some point during the briefing. Just in time, too; you’ll be teaming up with Hunter, who will provide cover for you to download Separatist weapon blueprints while Tech wipes them from the database. As soon as the ship touches down, the three of you make your way to the command center.
It’s almost too easy. Tech did predict there would be a shocking lack of battle droids at this base, you just didn’t think he really meant it so literally. Wrecker will surely be upset; his distraction won’t even be necessary. You turn a corner and easily take out two droids patrolling the hall before Echo comms in, already in position at and hacked into the security system.
“Hunter, you’ve got a clear path to the command center, this place is deserted,” the suspicion in Echo’s voice is evident and you don’t blame him. Still, you pick up the pace, if the Seppies are planning something it’d be best to make this quick. Echo opens the door of the command center just as you approach, revealing a handful of confused battle droids.
After a brief firefight, you and Tech make your way over to the main computer. He’s already plugging his datapad into their system, not looking up as he remarks, “There should be a tactical droid present, this is most likely a trap.”
“Well then we should hurry it up,” Hunter has his blaster at the ready, keeping watch while you scroll through the files Tech is rapidly decrypting from his datapad, “you find those blueprints yet?”
“Almo- hiccup” it’s like your body knows the worst possible time for them it almost feels personal sometimes, like the Force is punishing you. You’re quick to shake it off, too focused on the task at hand to even finish your sentence. Seconds later you find the files, quickly downloading them to a datastick, “Got them.”
Tech is already deleting the files from the database as you stash the datastick in your tool belt. Just as Tech untethered his datapad from the computer and drew his blaster, Hunter holds up a hand, silently signaling incoming. As if reading your mind, Echo comes through the comms, “Rollies headed towards you from the north hallway. About a dozen battle droids from the south.” You choke down a hiccup, trying to remain as silent as possible, and ready your weapon. Hunter shoots you a look before peering into the hallway, he makes a few gestures with his hand, of which you only understand half: cover, shoot, run. Hiccup.
Tech passes you two droid poppers and you both get into position, ready to attack the north hallway while Hunter takes the south. The rolling gets progressively louder before stopping a few feet from the door, waiting for unsuspecting thieves to run out. Instead they’re met with two perfectly aimed shots before Hunter bolts out, vibroblade in hand, drawing their haphazard fire towards the battle droids approaching from the south. You follow his lead, tossing a droid popper into the third droideka’s forcefield with practiced ease and drawing the remaining droid’s fire as its comrade falls at its side. Tech covers you as you wind up to toss the last droid popper, but, of course, just as it’s leaving your hand hiccup.
The droid popper veers to the left, rolling too fast, even if your aim was unaffected the velocity was not. You reach for your utility belt for another droid popper but Tech only handed you two. You shouldn’t have needed more than two. In a panic, you open fire on the massive droid knowing you’re not doing any damage, but keeping it’s focus on you rather than Tech. You glance behind you and there’s no sign of Hunter, on your left Tech is rolling another droid popper into the droideka’s forcefield.
Hiccup. It lets out one final shot before falling to the ground and for a second you forgot it’s focus was on you, not Tech, and you were the one that was supposed to be dodging its attack. The bolt grazes your arm, searing your plastoid armor. Hiccup.
“Well that coulda gone worse,” you laugh anxiously, turning to Tech with wide eyes.
His expression almost matches yours, “Indeed.”
You shrug before you both begin your dash down the south hallway to regroup with Hunter.
Back aboard the Marauder, Crosshair cleans his unused rifle while Wrecker complains that he didn’t get to use the new explosives you’d given him but it doesn’t seem like the sniper is paying too much attention to his brother's frustration. You review the blueprints with Tech and Echo, discussing the likelihood of the Separatists replicating the blueprints from scratch before the Republic can build and distribute the weapon. Highly improbable, according to Tech. You silently wonder where Hunter’s gone, it’s not that big a ship and your hiccups have subsided for now. Once again, as if hearing your thoughts, Echo gets up to look for the Sergeant.
Tech reads through a few other files he managed to download from the database while you stare blankly through the viewport, the swirl of hyperspace casting a blue glow over your furrowed brows.
“Thanks,” you finally pipe up, your eyes locked on the viewport, Tech glances up from his datapad, “I, uh, I’m not usually so helpless when I have them. Don’t really know what happened. But thanks.”
“It is human nature. Both singultus and the urge to save those close to you,” Tech’s gaze returns to his datapad as you hear footsteps enter the cockpit behind you, “your gratitude is unnecessary but appreciated.”
“Cool.” You smile, glancing to your left as Hunter takes the seat next to you.
“There are many causes of hiccups, I assume the main factor, in your case, is general anxiety.” Tech states plainly. You look over to him with a scoff, but his attention is now fully focused on the datapad.
“He’s right.” Hunter finally says and you redirect your shocked look from his brother to him.
“No- Anxiety? I’m not anxious,” Hunter shakes his head, and it almost looks like he’s smiling, “if that were true then Wrecker would be able to scare them away. It’d, like, cancel it out. I’m just a medical anomaly.” You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head.
To that remark and your incredulous look, Hunter actually laughs. You’re vaguely positive you hear a quiet chuckle from Tech, too, but you’re too busy looking deeply offended to know for sure. Hunter shakes his head, “Well, heightened senses never lie. Your heart rate is out of control when you get them.”
Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your gloves, before you say, quietly and in disbelief, “So you’ve been avoiding me because of my heart rate? Not the hiccups?”
“It’s both.” Tech interjects.
“Great.” You scoff.
Hunter kicks the back of Tech’s seat, “Like I said, heightened senses. Sometimes, before a mission, it’s too much so I go find someplace quiet. Nothing personal.” You nod, sights still locked on your hands. “But,” that draws your attention, “if you’re feeling anxious, just tell us. We all understand.”
“Precisely,” Tech turns to look at you, “human nature.”
Hunter nods, “And I don’t want to see any more of this,” he points towards the burnt plastoid of your rerebrace, “talk to us. Understood?”
You look at the scorch in your armor then to the clones in front of you, the furrow in your brow softening to a smile as you nod, “Copy that.”
It's been almost a week since that mission and you haven’t had the hiccups once.