Chapter Text
Four weeks, It has been four weeks since Omega and Crosshair escaped Mount Tantis.
Four weeks since they had escaped from the grasp of Doctor Hemlock.
Four weeks since they had unknowingly left tech there, all alone.
Four weeks since Doctor Royce Hemlock lost his leverage against Tech.
Four weeks since Tech started planning his escape from the dreadful lab.
Four weeks since Hemlock placed extra security and restrainment methods into place.
And only three days since Tech bypassed the security and managed to escape.
He wasn't alone in his endeavor, but the clones that assisted him were not in the escape plan.
And they knew that. They also knew that in helping Tech escape with the location of Mount Tantis, their sacrifice may help free thousands of their brothers from the hell they’d all been living in.
Three days.
Three days since Tech had stolen a small transportation shuttle, and much to his frustration, it had been three days since he discovered the comms system had been damaged by tyfighters in his escape.
It had been three days of complete freedom from the chains of the empire, yet he still felt like he was being choked.
Every second that went by that he was unable to contact his brothers, to tell them he was alive, that he was here and he was finally able to come home…the tightening around his chest worsened.
Tech laid underneath a panel in the cockpit, practically wrestling with red, green, and blue wires as he attempted to get the connection to stabilize. He may not be able to send voice communication, but at the very least he could use T-Code. A very similar system to Morse code, but with enough alterations that the empire, or any other unwanted company, would be unable to decode it if they picked up the transmission. It was something tech invented long before they defected from the empire, just in case they ever needed a way to communicate under the radar.
Tech soldered two wires together and slid himself out from underneath the console. His newly fit prosthetic hit the floor with a ‘tink’ as he stood. He paid no mind to it. After the fall, his left leg was injured beyond repair. At least, that is what he was told. Doctor Hemlock himself preformed the amputation, seeing to getting him a prosthetic not long after he had begun to recover. Only so Tech could preform optimal work in his lab, for the empire of course.
His recovery took time, longer than Tech liked to admit. Especially while he was a prisoner of the empire.
Logically, he knew that he should have died. That he was lucky to have survived the fall from that multitude of height. That it would take a long time to recover. But that did not stop him from pushing himself the second Hemlock had ordered physical therapy to adjust to his new robotic leg, or when he had just begun to regain his strength and been given the freedom to walk about his room. Pushing himself to his limits even outside of the scheduled times.
His time under Doctor Hemlock's care was excruciating, and he couldn't stand being as injured as he was. Hemlock practically stepped on him during his recovery. Treating him like a weak injured loth cat.
He clenched his fist, remembering the things Hemlock had said, had done to him while under his ‘care.’ The experiments on the other clones, holding Omega and Crosshair over his head like ragdolls to make him do his bidding.
Tech shook himself from his head, unclenching and relaxing his hands repeatedly until he was able to re-focus on the task at hand.
Tech scanned over the panel, turning a nob to what he hoped was the right frequency and hovering over a grey button. It had been some time since they had used this method of communication, he prayed his brothers remembered it as well as he had.
Tech closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, and out.
‘This has to work.’ He thought.
He began to tap.
‘Please, be listening…’
First, his first initial. Just how he designed it. T-Code was to always start with whoever's transmitting's first initial.
One, Two, Four, He indicated the letter T as he went.
Six, Eight, four. He began to spell.
—
“Echo!” Omega shouted, running up to the clone that had just arrived on Pabu and wrapping him in a swift hug.
“Hey, kid!” Echo smiled in response.
“Thanks for coming so soon, we know you’ve been real busy with Rex these days.” Hunter chimed in as he approached the two. “We’ve been having problems with the hyperdrive inside the marauder but can't seem to figure out what the issue is.” He frowned, arms raised to cross along his chest. “Tech used to handle most repairs like this…we,” he shifted on his feet. “We haven't had to do this on our own before.”
Echo had a feeling he wasn't just talking about the hyperdrive when he said that.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s no problem. Things have been a little slow the past few rotations, it wasn't hard to make time.” Echo gave them a sad smile at the mention of their late brother.
With a short exasperated sigh, Hunter thanked him, and the three headed across the landing to where the marauder was set.
—
A few hours passed of Echo running diagnostics and tearing panels off the walls inside and out to access the necessary internals. Omega helped whenever she could, passing tools and helping move things out of the way.
Currently, she was sitting in the hull of the ship watching the screen of maps, folders, and scan results for the hyperdrive. She scanned her eyes over the screen and her mind drifted, this was often where Tech was stationed, when not piloting that is. Omega frowned at the thought, she missed her brother so much…
“That should do it!” Echo entered the ship and typed a few things onto the computer in front of now him, and Omega. The previous diagnostics disappeared and one single new one began to load.
Recalibrating 10% … 14% …
“This…might take a while. But there’s plenty of work to be done outside, tools and pieces of the ship that need putting back together. Whatdya say?” Echo extended a hand, gesturing toward the warm sunlight beaming in through the door.
Omega briefly shook her frown away, and replaced it with a slightly mournful smile. “Yeah okay.”
She Wrecker, Echo, crosshair, and Hunter all worked together to piece back together their ship. They all learned how easy it really was to disassemble versus assemble their shuttle. No doubt a few of them became a lot more understanding of Tech’s previous frustrations when having to do repairs himself, he was fine with the actual repairing part, but the time it took to piece everything back together in just the right way…
Hunter was inside the ship, placing and securing one final panel to the wall beneath the computer's console. The calibration was complete but had needed a bit of physical adjustment as well.
He hadn't been thinking about anything in particular simply focusing on the task at hand, that was until something other than the sounds of conversation between his family outside began to ring in his ears.
Hunter's head shot up in a startle hitting the top of the metal above him. “Ow-” He said with a groan, backing out and repositioning himself with one hand on the top of his head now circling in a soothing motion. He slumped into one of the chairs and scanned the screen for the source of his now sudden pain, but found nothing above. He switched his focus to the lower panel with all the knobs switches and buttons.
-Beep Beep Beep-
“No…It- It can’t be, who could possibly..?” Hunter said, practically under his breath. But that didn't stop the ever-stealthy crosshair from hearing him.
“What ‘can’t be’ “ Cross questioned, revealing his sudden presence.
Hunter looked over his shoulder, hands now both placed on the console, mildly hunched over. The look on his face spoke volumes. Crosshair quickly stepped over and when he saw the crimson red light on the dashboard blinking…
One, Two, Four. “T”
Six, “1”
Eight, “22”
Four. “5”
“Hunter, these are coordinates...” His voice kept low and completely absent of his usual venom.
“Yeah...But how could it be…how could it be him?”
One,
Two
Four.
“T”
The message repeated.