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Four hours.
That's how long you'd been running from the Empire and the claws of the Kaminoans, swiftly escaping the planet with the help of AZ-3.
After a tearful farewell, the droid had tightly sealed the escape pod's hatch as well as your fate, leaving you to hold off the Kaminoans from tracking you as you fled Tipoca City, the place you once called your home.
When you landed on Ord Mantell, the sudden impact of the crash had swept you off your feet, chucking you to the floor with a loud bang. The intense pain that abruptly shot through your arm as well as the burning sensation that spread in your right cheek quickly lead you to realise that you needed to get a hold on some medical supplies as soon as possible.
"Where is it, where is it - kriff!"
Despite years of being reprimanded by Commander Colt not to curse and avoid the usage of bad words, you couldn't help but ignore your late brother's teachings when you sat back up on your knees after crawling out from under the pod's control panel. There wasn't a medkit in sight. You huffed, gripping your throbbing head with your healthy arm.
"I must've hit my head," you whispered to yourself, squinting your eyes in pain. Slowly but surely some medical attention was starting to become really necessary, especially when you felt warm liquid dripping down your cheek.
You sat up. Perhaps you'd find some help in the inner city?
Ord Mantell was huge; bigger and much more crowded than Tipoca City you found yourself realising. Though, that view might've been influenced by the fact that, like most clone children, you'd never seen anything but Kamino throughout your entire life.
Time and time again had you sat among your brothers, listening intently to their adventurous tales fighting in the war and visiting various places throughout the galaxy. And although you felt bad for the loss and pain they went through day by day, you couldn't help but envy the wonderful worlds and systems they also had the chance to experience.
Unlike most clones, you hadn't been made to be a soldier but rather a subject to be tested on. Your entire purpose since you'd been born was to be a lab-rat, to endure tests and examinations in order to help the Kaminoans determine the breeding conditions of their next clones. You thought little of the Kaminoans, as most clones did. Their constant pricking of needles and blood letting made you feel sick and although you'd grown up on Kamino and were used to being dehumanised and seen as an object, a tool rather than a living being, you still hated the longnecks with a burning passion, silently enduring the torture they'd been putting you through.
Naturally that also meant that you were made to suffer from various side effects of the experiments, such as age acceleration - or in your case, deceleration.
Unlike the usual clone, you aged slower, almost at the pace of a nat-born. You couldn't see very well due to visual tests they'd made for a special clone unit when you were very young and your hair was trimmed unevenly from being shaved off time and time again.
Naturally with that also came the judgement. Many of your brothers considered you a freak, curiously eyeing you and some times even mocking you. But even though there were many bad apples, you were proud to say that most of them had gladly taken you under their wing, partially having even grown up around you, and you couldn't be prouder of their accomplishments.
When the Empire took over and Admiral Tarkin arrived on Kamino, you swiftly developed a strong disdain for the imperial official and his scornful treatment of the clones. He frightened you with his skeletal appearance and judgemental expressions, scoffing at you when he'd first crossed you following a kaminoan scientist down the corridors of the city.
This disdain solidified when, from behind a window, you observed Tarkin handing obscure plans to Prime Minister Lama Su, signaling a clandestine exchange that left you feeling uneasy. Pressing your face against the glass to glean any insight, you overheard a conversation that sent shivers down your spine.
"I can assure you, CE-0003 will make a wonderful asset to project Blackwing—a low cost for such a risky intrusion; the potential loss won't be of any importance," Prime Minister Lama Su coldly stated, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. The mere mention of your designation number, CE-0003, served as a chilling reminder of the dehumanization endured by clones, but Tarkin's emphasis on "low cost" and "loss" struck an ominous chord, setting off alarm bells within your conscience.
Feeling the weight of an impending threat, you knew that the time had come to make a fateful decision. Unwilling to succumb to a potential death sentence or exploitation in the Empire's mysterious project, you resolved to escape Tipoca City. In the brightly lit corridors, your internal struggle reached a tipping point as you confronted the severity of your situation.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "Kamino is in the past," you mumbled to yourself, avoiding looking straight at the faces that passed by. After all, who knew whether someone had been sent after you or not? The Kaminoans were a very ambitious species and although Ord Mantell was filled with dubious figures, you could not let your guard down just yet.
Your head was starting grow dizzier by the minute and your world was starting to spin. you quickly managed to get a grip on some metal structure to keep you steady - or at least as steady as possible - when a voice caught your attention nearby.
"Oh ... can assist you in any way?"
Only now did you realise that the metal you'd gotten a strong hold on was, in fact, plastoid armour. Immediately you pulled your hand away, apologising profusely, though halfway slurring your words. You weren't even able to make out the stranger's face as the world spun around you and before you knew it, you passed out, barely hearing the stranger calling out another name.
"Echo, come here!"
"A - a clone?"
Hunter and Echo's eyes were settled on Tech, whose own goggled pair were glued to his datapad, as usual. "Precisely," he responded matter-of-factly, "It appears that they apart of a specialised cloning program founded specifically for scientific and medical experimentation."
"You're meaning to tell me the longnecks tortured this child for some bioweapons and drugs?" Echo's voice was angry, his face twisted into a furious grimace as he turned away from your unconscious form whilst holding the bacta-soaked cloth he'd previously been dabbing the gaping burn on your cheek with. Tech huffed, eyeing his brother over the edge of his datapad. "Yes Echo, that is exactly what I'm telling you."
"Unbelievable," Echo scoffed, fist tightening around the cloth, "and to think we once fought alongside those monsters." With a deep sigh, Hunter pushed past his bickering brothers to look over your sleeping form. By now, they had made sure to patch up your broken arm and clean any leftover bruises, settling you down on one of the parlour’s benches. It didn't look necessarily comfortable but seeing as Cid had business to attend to, it was all they could come up with so far - Tech had even dug out Wrecker's civil poncho in the Marauder which you now were cozily wrapped in.
Hunter gingerly brushed the loose hair strands out of your face, watching you with softening eyes as he took over cleaning your bruising face. A small smile tugged on his lips at the sight of your peaceful expression. How would Omega react to you?
As if on cue, the loud chitter-chatter of Wrecker and their little sister erupted in the stairway of Cid's bar, turning the heads of the rest of the batch. Omega squealed excitedly when the giant clone set her down, running toward Hunter with a box of Mantell Mix in her hands.
"Hunter, look!" She chirped, holding out the sugary treat for the sergeant to see, "The nice lady added new toppings and - [name]?"
Her eyes fell upon you and suddenly, she forgot the world around her. Hunter raised a brow before exchanging a questioning look with Echo, who had quietly observed the interaction.
Was that your name? How did she know you?
Taking the box out of her hands and setting it on the table, the clone sergeant took Omega aside, kneeling to be at her eye level.
"Omega, do you know this child?"
With a worried expression at the sight of your wounds, she hesitated before nodding slowly. "Their name is [name]," her voice was hoarse as she kept an eye on you, "we both assisted the scientists in the medbay, back on Kamino ... they'd often do those weird tests on them, to the point they wouldn't show up for days afterwards." Hunter's blood boiled at the thought of the painful abuse you must've had to endure but he stayed composed. He had to focus on the task at hand after all.
"Are - are they okay?" Omega's eyes were wide as she glanced back at him. "They're alright so far," he slowly stood up, crossing his arms over his chest, "We took good care of their injuries. Tech and Echo found them earlier - they suspect they may have crashed nearby. Should that be the case, they can consider themselves lucky."
The light sound of a confused groan caught Hunter off-guard as he turned to look at you. "Well, look who's up."
You had squinted as your world had grown clearer with every passing second after you woke up, still trying to make out what was going on around you - until you had noticed the five figures standing in front of you. And then the panic set in.
Had the Kaminoans already sent out people after you?
"Please don't bring me back," you had sniffled, hot tears already rolling down your cheeks, "I don't want to go back!" It had only been when a familiar girl had approached you with raised hands that you slowly but surely had started to calm down.
"Omega?"
As it turns out, the men you had feared to be mercenaries were in fact the infamous Clone Force 99 that had gone rogue and deserted the Empire a few weeks before you escaped. Although you'd heard talk of them plenty of times from your brothers and the scientists, you had never met nor seen them in person as they were usually out on missions and only ever briefly stayed on Kamino.
When Omega had left with them, you were heartbroken to see your sister go - most of your time was spent alongside her, after all.
By now, Cid, the Trandoshan woman the bar belonged to, had returned and to the Batch's apparent surprise, quickly took a liking to you; that or she at least pitied you enough to slide in a hot meal and grant you some company as she sat down with you and grunted every now and then while looking over her datapad. Either way, you weren't going to question it and simply enjoyed having the chance to fill your stomach after what felt like forever.
"So, how's AZ?" Omega had managed to squeeze in between you and Cid, eyes fixed on you. "He's okay," you mumbled between bites, "He helped me out a lot when I ... well ..." You frowned as you remembered your escape, setting down the spoon.
Although you had fled with good reasons, you couldn't help but miss the place you had once called your home. Fortunately, Omega quickly caught on as she settled a hand on your shoulder with a warm smile.
"I know what it's like," her voice was firm and encouraging when she looked over her shoulder the other side of the bar, where the tall clone you'd earlier found out to be called Wrecker roared in frustration at one of the arcade games set up in the bar while the other, Tech, tried his best at explaining it to him. Echo, the one with the scomp arm, watched and shook his head with a sigh and the leader, Hunter, chuckled while playing with the vibroblade in his hand.
"Our brothers ... they know what they're doing. We keep each other safe," Omega then grabbed your hand tightly and grinned, "And as long as we're here, we'll keep you safe, too."