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“How many fingers am I holding up?”
Wrecker squints at Tech’s hand. “Well, if you’d keep your karking hands still, I could tell ya!”
Tech sighs. “I’ll have you know that my singular hand is perfectly stationary, and the answer was two.”
“Aww,” Wrecker whines, gripping his head between his hands. “What does that mean?”
“It means you have a concussion,” Tech says, pulling out his portable med scanner he keeps with him on the field. He scans Wrecker to confirm his diagnosis. “It also means that you will have to sit out the rest of this mission.”
“What? That’s not fair!”
“Fairness has nothing to do with it,” Tech argues, “The fact of the matter is that you are a danger to yourself and others in this condition.”
“You’re not the boss,” Wrecker responds childishly, “Hunter is.”
“And Hunter will doubtlessly agree with my assessment.”
“Says you!”
“Precisely.” Tech taps his comm link. “Sarge, Wrecker has sustained a head injury. It is inadvisable that he continue with the mission.”
Wrecker leans in before Tech can cut the transmission, “I’m fine!”
Tech pulls away, throwing Wrecker a glare for good measure. “He is not fine,” Tech reiterates.
“Does he need immediate medical attention?” Hunter asks.
“Negative.”
A sigh filters through the comm. “Alright. Get him somewhere secure to lay low. We’ll come for him once we finish the extraction.”
“Roger that.” Tech flashes Wrecker a wry grin that the giant can’t even see under his helmet. “I told you he would agree with me.”
“Shut up,” Wrecker grumbles before letting out another pained moan.
Tech glances the vicinity for threats. “This is as good a place as any to have you wait for us to return for you,” he decides.
”Don’t leave me here, Tech, c’mon,” Wrecker pleads. “I’ll be careful.”
”You heard Hunter’s orders. You are to wait here until we finish the extraction. I will abide by his decision, and so will you.”
“Hunter always sides with you,” Wrecker grumbles.
Tech rolls his eyes, but plays into the argument. “Not true, but he usually sides with reason, which is more commonly provided by myself.” The splicer gets to his feet, returning his med scanner to its pouch and adjusting his pack. “This is for the best. Please try not to do anything foolish until we get back.”
Wrecker growls some sort of incomprehensible reply, but Tech takes it to mean that he will comply with the order to stay put. Wrecker didn’t need immediate medical attention, but he did need to be careful. His injury could easily be worsened by unnecessary movement and stimulation. However, Tech sympathizes with the disappointment his brother must feel, so he adds, “It is a dull mission anyhow, you won’t be missing out.”
“I could’ve found something to blow up,” Wrecker sighs, leaning forward to put his head on his drawn up knees.
“Stealth, Wrecker,” Tech reminds him. “It is a stealth mission.”
Wrecker makes another displeased noise that is muffled into his hands. Tech hesitates a moment before gingerly patting Wrecker on the shoulder in what he hopes is a pacifying and comforting gesture. He isn’t sure if Wrecker takes it as such because the hulking clone doesn’t acknowledge him in any way. “We’ll be back soon, Wrecker. I’ve marked the location, but keep your comm available so that you can communicate should you need assistance.”
Much to Tech’s surprise, Wrecker does not bombard their comms with any sort of wheedling or whining or distress. In fact, he does not check-in once. It is troublesome, but Tech tries to focus on the data extraction, ignoring the gnawing feeling of wrongness. When he left his largest brother, Wrecker was stable and fine , as Wrecker so eloquently put it. Not fine enough to continue the mission, but fine enough to rest and wait without fear of sudden demise.
Regardless, Tech works with distracted speed, finally slipping the data stick into his utility belt pocket and nodding at Crosshair that they are finished.
The sniper is leaning lazily against the console, watching the door, but pushes himself up as Tech puts away his equipment. “Don’t you think it’s odd that Wrecker hasn’t commed once since you abandoned him?”
“I did not abandon him,” Tech says stiffly. “I know exactly where he is.”
“Wrecker is never this quiet,” Crosshair continues as if Tech had not spoken, “unless he’s unconscious…”
Tech swallows.
“...or up to something.”
Up to something .
This gives Tech pause. He had not considered that possibility, and he isn’t sure if it makes him feel better or worse about the situation. He picks up his comm. “Wrecker, come in. Are you still at your approved location?”
A pause ticks several seconds too long. “Yeah?”
Crosshair and Tech exchange glances, Crosshair’s expression hidden behind his helmet. Tech imagines it looks about as incredulous as he feels.
“And you haven’t left that location?”
“Why would I? I’m a danger to myself and others in this condition,” Wrecker retorts, echoing Tech’s own words. However, his evident annoyance is unable to conceal the lie in his tone.
“What did you do?” Crosshair asks now, lifting his own comm.
“Nothing!”
“Boys, if you’re done interrogating the wounded, let’s head out, ” Hunter cuts in.
The feeling of wrongness resumes its gnawing. But, Tech assures himself, at the very least, Wrecker is still alive.
Wrecker is sitting just as Tech left him.
“‘Bout time!” Wrecker whines, getting to his feet. He staggers a step or two unsteadily, putting a hand to his head and groaning.
“You were only left alone for twenty standard minutes,” Tech tells him.
“Felt like forever !”
Crosshair is scanning their surroundings. “And what did you do in the meantime?”
“I already told you I didn’t do anything!” Wrecker growls, giving Crosshair a shove.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Crosshair says, undeterred.
Hunter steps between them. “Alright, enough. Wrecker, if you say you didn’t do anything…we’re going to take your word for it.”
Tech doesn’t miss the lilt of doubt in Hunter’s appeasement, but it effectively shuts down the argument nonetheless.
It isn’t until the Marauder is taking off that they hear and see the explosion in the distance. Tech doesn’t even have to check the location to know it was the Separatist base.
Three heads swivel to Wrecker who stares back in surprise. “That was not me,” he says, “I promise!”
No one believes him.
END