Chapter Text
“When have we ever followed orders?”
Tech knows it’s the right thing to do, no hesitation as he fires his blaster and he hears Wrecker yell out as he falls, his brothers, his family speeding off to safety, no longer visible as Tech falls below the cloud cover.
He could calculate his velocity, and time it would take for him to reach the bottom, but instead he recalls his fonder memories – since he could remember each one perfectly, of course – with his brothers, with Omega.
As Tech plummets to the ground, he thinks about when Plan 99 was first conceived.
“I told you not to blow the engine room Wrecker.” Tech admonishes but Wrecker merely groans in response, focussed on supporting Hunter who had taken a minor fall in their last mission.
The mission that was now over, and had been successful. As always.
The others take their seats, Tech taking his rightful place in the pilots chair, guiding the ship off the planet, passing the Republic gunships as they hovered in now the base had been secured from the Separatists.
He receives the co-ordinates of a nearby base for their re-supply and short shore leave before they received their next set of orders. Punching the coordinates into the navi-computer, the Marauder jumps to hyperspace.
Its several hours later, the squad still in hyperspace, the mission de-brief having already occurred, Wrecker looking a little sheepish when Tech explained the risk he had put them all in, and the calculated likely failure rate. They were lucky to be alive.
When their idle conversation is interrupted by a holo, nobody is surprised. The nature of their squad meant that they often got diverted at short notice, and their original destination only guaranteed once their ship had actually docked.
Its Cody, and they all greet him warmly, but the expression on Codys face is anything but, requesting to speak with Hunter alone. Cautious, and a tiny bit confused, Hunter takes the projector to the racks, the door closing behind him.
“What do you suppose our next orders are?” Crosshair asks, head tilted back against the wall with his eyes closed, a toothpick being flicked between his fingers.
“As long as its not another swamp planet.” Wrecker moans. “I HATED the last one.”
“It is statistically unlikely that we will encounter those conditions so soon Wrecker. You see, of Separatist controlled planets, forty-six percent of them-“ Anything further Tech would had said was cut off by Hunter returning, his expression sombre.
“What is it Hunter?” Tech inquires.
“There was an attack on Kamino.” Wrecker gasps, but all of them wait for Hunter to continue. Hunter closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. “Ninety-Nine, he…didn’t make it.”
Crosshairs eyes snap open, studying Hunter carefully in case he was pranking them. Finding nothing but sorrow, Crosshairs eyes fall to the ground as the toothpick finds its way into his mouth, clacking loudly as it moves quickly against his teeth.
Wrecker buries his head in his hands, and his shoulders start to shake as he sobs into them. Hunter places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
“How did he die?” Tech asks, feeling unusual. In theory, he knew he should be upset – Ninety-Nine was always there for them, was like a father to them. But it did not seem real, not here in hyperspace, millions of kilometers away from their home, the world still turning, the war still raging when it felt like it should stop at the loss of their mentor, their guiding light when the regs bullied them, comforting them when they were down.
“Does it matter?” Crosshair replies snarkily, glaring at Tech.
“Ventress launched an attack on Kamino. Ninety-Nine died defending his home, and the cadets.”
“Admirable.” Tech comments, before adding, “I have some repairs to do before we reach the Republic base.”
Tech goes to stand, but Wrecker removing his hands from his tear-streaked face stops him, Wrecker looking angry at Tech, unusual for their kind brother, at least, when not directed at clankers. “Do you even care?”
“Hey now.” Hunter says softly to Wrecker, trying to defuse the tension as Tech is taken aback at his brothers outburst.
“I understand this is an upsetting moment, Wrecker. Just because I do not express it outwardly does not mean I am also not distressed by this news.” Tech snaps back, standing up and leaving his brothers, hoisting himself up into the vent above the main area of the ship, yanking off a panel on the wall. He begins to work, using the distraction to keep his mind clear, focussed.
Below, he can hear his brothers disperse to process this news in their own way. Crosshair had likely remained in the cockpit and Tech wonders how many splintered toothpicks he will find when he returns.
Hunters footsteps went to the back of the ship, the rear gun for some alone time.
Wrecker stomps his way to the racks and Tech hears the creak of the stressed hinges as Wrecker hoists himself onto his own, likely with Lula in his arms.
When silence settles back on the ship, Tech stops listening and lets his mind take over.
And fails miserably, and for once, only one thought occupies Techs mind.
It was a cycle or so later when Tech decides to broach the subject, their resupply complete, and only a few more hours left of shore leave until they were off on their next mission. Tech had wanted to remain on the ship, and have this conversation there, but the others had been keen to go to the cantina, and drink their sorrows away.
Tech had not been given the choice.
“We should discuss the event in which one of us may need to sacrifice themselves for the rest of the squad to survive.” Tech says it suddenly, having unable to get a word in edgewise between Crosshair and Wrecker trading barbs, and Hunter mediating between them.
All heads turn to look at him and he sees Hunters jaw clench and he slams his drink down on the table. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
Tech shouldn’t be surprised at this response; he had brought this up once, as a cadet, after reading yet another report of clone casualties. It was statistically unlikely that they would all live through the war, and their future was certainly not guaranteed. Similar to now, that idea had been shot down like a B1 droid in their way, Wrecker proudly boasting that they were too good and none of them were going to die, Crosshair becoming cocky, Hunter shutting down the conversation with a simple shake of his head. He might have believed them then, but he was older now. He knew this is something they may need, eventually.
“Hunter,” Tech says it as a warning not to interrupt him, matching Hunters glares with one of his own. Hunter concedes, bringing his drink to his lips and waving for Tech to continue. “I could quite easily spend the next few minutes stating exactly why we need this plan, with the statical analysis to prove it,” Wrecker rolls his eyes, but Tech continues on undeterred. “We all thought Ninety-Nine was invincible.” Tech lets the statement hang in the air, a sentiment he knew they all shared. What was Kamino without him? Less of a home for the clones, that was certain. “We all know now that is not the case. We must be prepared. Better to discuss it now, rather than in the heat of battle where the decision will not be considered carefully and could cost us more than we realise.”
Tech doesn’t receive any instant objections, so he stays silent, taking a measured sip of the drink he had been nursing since he’d arrived. The others had been imbibing much more than he had, but they all had control over their faculties, and sober enough for this conversation.
“Tech…is right.” Crosshair says, leaning forward slightly, knocking his almost finished drink away from him with the back of his hand.
“We could name it after him,” Wrecker says and everyone looks at him. “After Ninety-Nine.”
Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair all look to Hunter. He was their leader, and while they didn’t always agree with his decisions, they always respected them. Tech is unsure he could shoulder that responsibility, and make the decisions Hunter did considering they could mean the difference between life and death for his brothers.
“That might be nice.” Hunter says finally, conceding with a sigh, swiping his drink off the table and raising his glass. “Plan Ninety-Nine.”
“Plan Ninety-Nine.” The others echo, knocking their glasses against Hunters. They all take a swig and the conversation shifts, Wrecker pointing out two pretty beings at the bar. Wrecker was always good at diffusing difficult situations and Tech admits that Wrecker was far more emotionally intelligent than he was. But he was learning.
Tech leans back in his seat, plucking his drink off the table, giving a small smile as he raises it to his mouth, pleased with his success.
It felt like Tech had been falling for an entirety, but the part of his mind that never stopped running told him it had been mere seconds.
But that was all it took, and as Tech fell through the cloud cover, he sees a dense forest and from his research knew Eriadu was filled with dangerous creatures and perhaps death by impact would be a faster and more gracious death than to be mauled by animals.
Tech tries to reach out, angle himself so he could soften his fall but his velocity is too great and he collides with the tree tops.
Tech suddenly feels all of his nerve endings flare with pain until he hits his head on a thick branch, and suddenly he feels nothing at all as he is knocked unconscious.
“Why are we rescuing him again?”
Tech hears indistinct voices, his body once again screaming in pain as he counts no less than twenty broken bones, let alone the lacerations that must litter his body. He tries to open his eyes but the bright light and blurry vision forces them shut again, and he realises that his glasses must be broken. He still could feel them resting on his face, but the tinted glass was most certainly shattered.
“Dr. Hemlock wanted him alive. No idea why. He’s got other clones.”
Techs brain sluggishly processes the information, chiding itself for not being able to defend himself, or at least think clearly. He was in danger, but he was in no position to do anything about it.
The synapses in his mind sparks. “Omega!” Tech yells as he tries to lift himself up. The stun bolt comes so quick he doesn’t have time to do anything about it and is forced back into unconsciousness.
The next time Tech comes to, he blinks his eyes open slowly, his vision blurry, his broken glasses no longer on his face. He slowly tests his movement, from his feet all the way to his head, finding that while his injuries had been mended, he had not been afforded any bacta and each movement shot pain up his body. He would have to heal naturally and from the ache in his femur he knew that he would never be fully operational by military standards again.
With his limited movement, Tech manages to turn his head to the side, and he squints as he tries to make out the shape next to him. Its…familiar, but he can’t quite make out any defining features. He remembers the conversation he heard from the stormtroopers, and figures it was another clone beside him. They did all look the same, after all.
Tech hears voices, but the body next to him does not stir at the visitors, Tech only able to make out a blur as someone comes beside him, placing a brand new set of goggles on his face and he looks up at the person who gave them to him.
“You…are a clone.” Tech says, automatically going to adjust his goggles only to realise his hands were restrained. And his legs, now that he tries to lift them.
“Dr Emerie Karr. I thought you’d forgotten me, Tech.” Emerie seems pleased that Tech recognized her but the memory was vague, as if there had been an attempt to erase it from his memory. But Techs mind was too exceptional, and he forgot nothing.
“I never forget a face.” Tech says, realising there was no point moving and lying back against the bed – if it could be called that, since it was more of a cold duracrete slab. “You worked on Kamino, correct? In zoology. You were the one to inform me about the Aiwhas, since Republic records had scant information on Kaminos wildlife.”
“I’m surprised you remember.” Emerie says as she gently removes Techs restraints, and helps him up to standing. Tech is confused at how nicely she was treating him, considering he was in the very facility that did not exist in any records. He expected to be hooked up to a mind-flayer, if the stories the other clones told had any truth to them. Imperials did not treat their prisoners with kindness. “Nobody was supposed to know about me.”
“I distinctly remembered accessing the Kaminoan database and finding yours buried deep within its securest files.” Tech says as Emerie guides him towards the door.
“You came and found me. Snuck around the coding.”
“You were younger then.”
“As were you.” Emerie says, pausing as the door wooshes open, two stormtoopers standing on the other side, guarding it. “When you didn’t come back after the last time, I thought the Kaminoans wiped your memory.”
“I believed they attempted to.”
“You always had an exceptional mind.” Emerie says and the hazy memory Tech had becomes clear once again. Perhaps the Kaminoans had some success at clearing this memory from his mind.
Tech had his nose buried in a datapad, having just picked up a thread of code that was out of place, different, from the standard programming of Kamino and its labs.
“Come to the range with us.” Crosshair says, his rifle that was taller than he was slung over his shoulder, hoisted up so it didn’t drag on the ground. Hunter and Wrecker stood beside him, looking eagerly at their brother.
“No thank-you.” Tech says without looking up.
Crosshair shrugs, and the three of them depart, leaving Tech by himself. He spends hours in that code, unweaving it like expertly crafted shimmersilk scarf, buried as deep as the waters of Kamino. Only his brothers returning from their expedition, and Wrecker tossing his dirty sweat rag at Tech gets his attention.
“Oi!” Wrecker yells as the fabric makes contact, and Tech wrinkles his nose as he tugs it off his shoulder and throws it back at Wrecker, who catches it and grins.
“You do not practice adequate hygiene practices, Wrecker.”
“Seconded.” Crosshair says as he sits at his bunk, staring at the one crate that separated his meticulously tidy and Wreckers messy bunk. Tech doesn’t need to use Jedi mind tricks to know he was considering getting a second crate to create a higher barrier.
“We’re going to the mess. Are you ready to go?” Hunter ignores his brothers, diplomatically guiding them away from another argument. He was always their leader, even if the Kaminoans and their trainers hadn’t promoted him to it yet.
“I will not be joining you. I am too engrossed in this code. You see, it was hidden deep within the Kaminoans-“
“I’m hungry!” Wrecker yells, grabbing a ration bar off his bunk and shoving it in his mouth. “Lets go!”
“Tech, you need to eat.” Hunter says, eyeing off his brother.
“You’re not a droid.” Crosshair adds.
“The regs would disagree with you.” Tech counters and Crosshairs lip curls upwards in irritation at the mention of their bullies.
“Okay.” Hunter concedes, walking over to Tech and setting a ration bar in front of him. “You don’t have to come with us, but you have to eat. That’s an order, soldier.” Hunter says half-jokingly and Tech looks up at his brother. Tech nods once and with Hunter satisfied, they leave him be. Tech gets straight back into the data.
Later that night, after the squad had gone to bed, Tech was still awake, having almost cracked the code, and mention of another clone that was isolated from the rest of them, and Tech wonders if they’re enhanced, liked they were. He couldn’t let it go, and once he was sure all of his brothers were asleep, he grabs his datapad and sneaks out of the room, stealthily moving through the halls of Kamino to where this clone should be, was hidden. He almost gets caught, by one of the older clones, Cody. He’s sure Cody saw him, but he doesn’t call out and lets Tech go on his way. Tech liked Cody and wished more regs were like him. Tech knew the reality was far from his wish.
Tech debates with himself when he finds himself outside the room where this secret clone was, finger poised over the button that would let him into the room. Deciding he must learn why they were separate, Tech presses the button.
And comes face to face with a blaster as the door opens with a woosh.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” The other clone says, and Tech suddenly realises that this was a female clone, one that he had never seen before, or even knew about.
“You are a clone.” Tech states, analysing her. She must be around the same age as some of the older clones, like Alpha-17. Like Cody.
The pair of them stand there, eyes locked until the female clone tilts her head, and lowers her blaster, yanking Tech forward so the door closes behind him. “You’re Tech.” She states.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?” Techs curiosity gets the better of him. He needs to know.
“Epsilom, but I call myself Emerie.”
“What are you? How do you know who I am?”
“I’m a clone, like you. I help Nala Se with her experiments in genetically engineering clones. I helped her splice clone DNA. In a way, I helped create you and your squad. Your exceptional mind.” Emerie seems excited at having someone to talk to. Tech looks past her, fascinated by the lab she had, the experiments that bubbled at hissed away.
“Tell me more.”
Tech and Emerie had bonded quite quickly, Tech sneaking out often at night to spend time with her. She was able to keep up with Tech, and understood the scientific jargon that often went over his brothers heads. He promised to keep it a secret, and he did, until one day he was caught sneaking from her quarters and when pressed by the Kaminoans (with threats he dares not think about anymore), he broke down. He didn’t see Emerie again, her image become buried in his mind when the Kaminoans hooked him up to one of their machines. He lost a few days there.
Until now.
Tech considers his options. If he were in a better state, he could probably overpower both guards, and Emerie, and find Omega, if she had indeed been captured.
“I wouldn’t.” Emerie says, looking at Tech.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no escape.” The words are simple, but weighted. Emerie was a Kaminoan scientist. A clone Kaminoan scientist. She may wear a proper uniform and be afforded some luxuries, but she was no less a prisoner than Tech was right now. Tech nods and Emerie starts walking forward.
Tech looks back over his shoulder, just to quickly study the room he just left, in case he needed to come back here to rescue the others. He suddenly realises why that clone that was laying next to him was so familiar.
With his vision restored, Tech made no mistake that the clone was his brother. Crosshair.