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That day, the Marauder was parked on the ground in a Republic base as the Bad Batch awaited orders from Commander Cody, who was currently preoccupied in a battle according to the time log Tech had hacked. It was night in the base, the sun out of sight and the area dark, most clone soldiers in their barracks except those who were on duty of night watch, who patrolled calmly, warding off sleep with coffee and brisk strolls in the cool night air.
On board the Marauder, Wrecker was on the second night watch. He’d taken over from Tech not an hour ago, and was due to pass on to Hunter in two more hours. He was bored, relaxing in the pilot’s seat which was by far the most comfortable seat in the ship, feet resting on a nearby crate of grenades. He hummed quietly to himself stroking Lula as he stared around the cockpit, looking for something to amuse himself with.
He hated using his datapad, which was the route the rest of the Bad Batch bar Crosshair used when they were bored, because he disliked and struggled with reading, and the datapad was filled with words he had no interest in. There were holofilms, but after that one time Hunter had gotten so absorbed in a holofilm he didn’t notice that the hyperspace was having trouble until Crosshair woke up and realized, holofilms were banned.
No one else was awake, which actually was quite unusual. Tech stayed up to terrible hours, and normally was on a mission to get as little sleep as possible, Hunter’s senses kept him up some nights, Echo had reoccurring nightmares, and Crosshair – well, Wrecker didn’t know what kept Crosshair up, other than the fact he was a ridiculously light sleeper, because as far as Wrecker knew, Crosshair didn’t have nightmares.
But tonight, Hunter had locked away Tech’s datapad in the safe that apparently only he and Echo had access to, but Wrecker knew that Tech and Crosshair both could access the safe easily. He didn’t bother to try, he didn’t care about what was in there, which was mostly datachips and battle plans. Tech didn’t want to let Hunter know he could get into the safe, so he agreed and went to bed.
Hunter was having a relatively good night with his senses, the last few battles had involved relatively few grenades which always made his head hurt and made him grumpy for days. He’d been in a decent mood, but tired from the stress and work of the past few days and was sleeping incredibly soundly – it'd be hard to wake him for his shift.
And Crosshair and Echo? Wrecker was pretty sure he’d seen the two of them curled up in Crosshair’s bunk likely due to one of Echo’s nightmares when Tech had woken him to take his shift, and likely neither would get up for fear of waking the other unless Echo had another nightmare, which he generally didn’t while he was sharing a bed with someone.
So Wrecker would be bored alone. His eyes landed on the sabaac cards, but he looked away. Where was the fun with playing on his own? He picked up Lula, staring at the tooka and the way it stared at him, staring back at its lifeless eyes. A staring contest wouldn’t hurt...
---
Crosshair’s brain slowly began to wake up as his nose detected a strange smell, and he blearily opened his eyes, blinking as he saw Echo on the other side of the bed. He quickly remembered what had happened last night, Echo had another of his nightmares during Tech’s watch and Crosshair hadn’t complained, half-asleep as he was when Echo slipped into his bunk. He sighed, adjusting his position as much as he was able without jolting Echo, seeing as Echo was clinging to Crosshair’s right arm like the world was going to end if he let go.
He sighed. If it made Echo feel better and sleep properly, he’d allow it, as long as Tech took no holos, because if he did, Crosshair was going to burn his datapad. And make Tech watch.
His eyes blinked tiredly as his nose was reminded of the strange smell. It smelt – familiar, but not in a nice way. His tired brain wasn’t cooperating. It was something he normally was afraid of, but his brain wasn’t working and he couldn’t figure out what it was. His nose scrunched slightly as he tried to concentrate, noting how the smell was getting stronger. It was a wonder Hunter wasn’t awake.
The smell reminded him of charcoal, of grenades – fire! His eyes flew open and he sat up, smelling the air which he now identified as smoky. Echo moaned as Crosshair shook him violently. “Echo! Tech! Hunter! There’s a fire!” He yelled, sliding past Echo out of the bunk, nearly tripping on Echo’s prosthetic legs.
“Fire!” He yelled, throwing his boot which lay beside his bed at Hunter, as he grabbed his rifle, kicking Tech, who was still putting on his goggles. “Wrecker, where are you?” He yelled, hearing the cockpit open.
“Fire!” Wrecker’s shout woke the ship, and seconds later, Crosshair heard the ramp opening and a fire extinguisher spraying. Tech ducked past Crosshair, who was shaking Hunter, rushing past and cursing very loudly as he saw the flames. “Fire!” Wrecker’s shouts caught the attention of the night watch who instantly started to fetch the hoses, running towards the ship just as the fire reached a box of grenades.
There was a very loud bang, shaking the whole ship and blowing up half the brig, shooting molten shrapnel at both Tech and Wrecker, neither of whom were wearing armor and both of whom were hit. “Hunter! Get up!” Hunter moaned, but he stood slowly, and Crosshair darted back over to Echo, who was half-seated, attempting to put his prosthetics on but coughing violently due to the smoke. Tech had taught them all how to put on the prosthetics in case of emergency, and Crosshair hastily snapped them into place as Echo tried to wave the smoke away.
Hunter, now more awake, stepped out of the bunkroom just as another crate of grenades exploded, rocking the ship violently and causing a loud crash, and more explosions. The night watch rushed out the buildings with hoses just as with a loud creak, half of the Marauder broke off, weakened by the grenades.
There was a giant crash as the whole ship tipped sideways, the front half in one direction, the other half in the other direction. Wrecker fell into the cockpit, and so did Tech, who rolled to the control panel and stopped, and Hunter hit the hold’s wall very hard, getting a concussion as he slowly stood again. Echo and Crosshair were both thrown against the wall above Crosshair’s bunk, landing in a pile of limbs, prosthetic and otherwise, and a rifle.
Slowly, the Bad Batch picked themselves up, trying to figure out a way off the ship that was on its side. Crosshair and Echo stumbled into the cockpit just as Tech broke the cockpit window using a wrench, before Wrecker tossed a chair he ripped off the floor at it to widen the hole. Carefully, they jumped out, doing their best to avoid the broken glass as reg medics rushed over, the night watch already working on putting out the remains of the Marauder – that would take a very long time to fix.
Tech, Wrecker and Hunter were hurried off to the medbay to removed the shrapnel, while Echo and Crosshair were left, standing there staring at the wreckage. Crosshair breathed a sigh of relief, inhaling the sweet fresh air while Echo just stared at the ship. “You okay?” Crosshair asked Echo, glancing at him, but he saw nothing wrong with Echo, and looked away, relieved.
“Yeah.” Echo rubbed his head, but said nothing even as his head throbbed. “I’m fine.” Crosshair sighed, not noticing how Echo scowled when the pain in his head didn’t go away. It was likely he had a concussion, seeing the way he’d hit his head on the wall when the ship had broken. But he’d fought with worse, being an ARC, and he just sighed, following Crosshair who was walking daintly through the broken glass. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll find some room on the base and stay there for now, I guess.” Crosshair answered over his shoulder, striding barefoot across the courtyard – he must have been the only clone ever (Wrecker didn’t count) to be in his blacks, his hair a mess, barefoot and still able to walk across the courtyard with confidence and still have that fear-inspiring attitude and scowl that could scare off regs.
At least he still had his rifle. Most of their personal belongings were on the less damaged side of the ship, so at least important things like Tech’s datapad and their weapons weren’t harmed, though their spares, food supplies and most of their grenades were gone for good.
It was a good thing they weren’t paying for any of it. Echo rubbed his head harder, not noticing Crosshair glancing at him worriedly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Echo answered tiredly. “Tired.” He wasn’t lying, he was incredibly tired, but that wasn’t it.
Crosshair’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t push it. “We’ll have to comm Cody and tell him we’ll be grounded for a month.” He tried to distract Crosshair.
“Okay.” Crosshair looked away. “Let’s just find somewhere to sleep. That can wait till Tech can do it – and we lost our comms anyway.” Echo nodded and followed Crosshair.
---
As soon as they were let into a bunkroom, Crosshair threw himself straight into the closest bed, tossing the rifle onto another unoccupied bed. They’d been lucky enough to get a room with five bunks, and Echo paused, looking at Crosshair awkwardly where he was starfishing over his bunk. “Crosshair?” He asked hesitantly, and Crosshair looked up.
“Only if you tell me what’s wrong with you?” He answered.
Echo sighed. “Concussion. It’s fine and manageable.” Crosshair nodded, and rolled over, and Echo quickly scrambled under the sheet next to Crosshair. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Echo said quietly, staring at Crosshair.
“Just sleep already, reg.”