Chapter Text
When they were growing up, it didn't take long for Wrecker to be much bigger than his brothers. So, he started shielding them. It became one of his unspoken duties.
Wrecker tanks hits and draws fire whilst his brothers complete their objectives. It feels right, quickly becoming second nature. Wrecker knows that's why the Kaminoans made him this way.
As useful as his knowledge in weaponry and explosives is, that usefulness pales in comparison to his brothers abilities. He can arm and disarm bombs as fast as he likes, Tech's mind, Crosshair's sharpshooting and Hunter's senses are what get missions done.
But Wrecker can keep them alive. That's what his enhanced abilities are really about.
At some point during their cadet years, Tech started a digitalized and numerically ordered list of their plans. It grew along side them, some plans so obscure they'd never get to use them, some just added as a joke.
They all have favourites, plans they've been waiting to call for years. Wrecker has favourites too, mostly ones that allow him to show off his expertise in demolitions. But the one plan Wrecker considers his plan, the one he'll have to execute one day, is the one he likes least.
Plan 99, the plan to lay your own life down for your brothers, for the mission.
Wrecker always knew the day would come, and when it does, he'll be ready to do what he needs to do. For his brothers.
He has a bad feeling about the mission from the start. Something feels off. Hunter feels it too. He seems on edge.
Everything goes normally, well even, for most of the mission. But Wrecker stays alert. And it's a good thing he does.
The room where everything goes wrong houses a generator of some kind. Huge and powerful, large pressurized tanks fuelling it. They cross half the room fine, taking out droids as they go. But then a siren starts blaring, and the large machine makes unnerving noises.
It's overheating, going to explode. Wrecker's the first to understand what's happening, yelling for his brothers to run, get out of there as fast as possible. It's unclear weather the reason for the danger is a trap set for them, or a genuine malfunction. They don't have the time to consider that.
The last few droids present panic at the alarm, leading to them being easier targets than usual. Even through his armor, Wrecker can tell the air is getting dangerously hot around them. They haven't got long. Thankfully, it isn't far to the exit.
They clear the room, Wrecker slowing down to make sure his brothers get out. But when he goes to shut the heavy blast doors on the generator, something's wrong. It won't stay closed. It shuts, but then it hisses back open sluggishly.
The rest of his squad don't seem to have noticed, still running on.
If those doors don't close, they're all dead. As fast as Wrecker and his vode can run, they'll never get far enough away from the explosion. With the door shut, there'd be a buffer between them. Wrecker internally curses the separatists for their bad safety measures, even if there's a high chance this was done on purpose. Wrecker tries the door once more, to the same result.
It suddenly hits him that there's no way they're all leaving here alive, that this is the day Wrecker's been aware would come. This time when the two sides of the door slide closed, Wrecker grabs hold of them, pressing them together. His arms burn with the strain, but Wrecker pays the feeling no minds. It's not like he'll live to experience the consequences.
A strange calm washes over Wrecker. He's spent so long thinking about this day, about dying for his brothers, that the feeling's almost familiar. It's strange, thinking that he woke up that morning, not knowing he wouldn't live to see another.
He had plans, things he thought he'd do. They'd picked up some interesting fruit the day before and Wrecker was looking forward to trying them. He'd also promised Tech he'd help do maintenance on the Marauder. He'll have to manage without Wrecker, though he's sure Tech will do fine on his own.
Wrecker rests his helmet against the door. He can't tell if he's imagining it, or if he really can feel the heat from the other side through the metal. He briefly wonders what will kill him first, the explosion, or the ceiling's imminent collapse. Either way, he's going out with a bang. How in line with his personality and interests that is almost makes Wrecker laugh.
It's a stupid thought, but for a moment, Wrecker considers what will happen with the stuffed toys he's collected over the years. They take up a decent amount of storage space on the Marauder, so it would make sense for his vode to get rid of them. Wrecker hopes they keep Lula. His brothers made her, so she's special. She also doesn't take a lot of space.
“Where are you Wrecker?” Hunter's voice over the comm channel startles Wrecker. He sounds almost irritated. It dawns on Wrecker that he completely forgot to announce what he's doing.
“Plan 99. Finish the mission without me.” There's a slight tremor to Wrecker's voice thanks to the strain of forcing the door shut. He's entirely composed otherwise.
“What?” Crosshair hisses.
“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” Hunter asks, throwing Wrecker somewhat. He didn't think Hunter would forget a plan, he never has before.
“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker says, trying to remind his ori'vod.
“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says.
“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”
Wrecker laughs. “Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.”
“Wrecker.” Hunter's tone is warning.
“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says, sighing softly to himself. A metallic creak resonates behind the door. He's not got much longer, but his brothers will be safe. “It's what I'm made for.”
For a moment, Wrecker hears the commotion of his brothers talking over each other, then, it's all drowned out as the generator finally gives out. The explosion is deafening, unbearable heat enveloping Wrecker as the door warps and breaks under the pressure. Pain grips Wrecker's body like a vice, the world around him still impossibly loud as the building caves in.
Then, everything goes black and Wrecker is plunged into nothingness, thoughts of his brothers safety quieting any fear that threatened to rise in his chest in that final moment.