Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Despite being known to like reading regulation manuals and sticking to the orders, Echo would like to correct the record and state that he is anything, but a stick in the mud. 

Being safe and abiding by important army regulations does not make him strict or rigid.  

The whole function of who the clones are stems from their existence as soldiers; soldiers who can obey orders and follow regulations to the letter for the the sake of the whole. It's not so much part of Echo's personality as it is his need to protect his brothers and ensure they survive. Which is why, for the sake of his fellow soldier's sanity and stomachs, the clone trooper found himself being the most un-regulation of regulation clone, squatting in the corner of the surveillance deck and hunched over an ammo box filled with a simmering brew. 

Domino squad had only recently touched down onto Rishi base, much to the chagrin of Fives, Hevy, and Cutup, who decided, in lieu of having anything better to do, to endlessly complain about the monotony of being placed in an outskirt base, on an outskirt planet, where there were no droids or action to be seen for several lightyears. 

Echo didn't really mind the base all that much. Sergeant O’Niner expected the same amount of discipline as any other officer and cared about his men. The young clone was just happy to finally be off Kamino and out of the watchful gaze of the Kaminoans, who seemed to have their assessing gaze on their squad from the very moment they were decanted. Was it because their squad had a set of twins, a rare, if unheard-of anomaly that they were worried would somehow affect the caliber of their squad? Echo didn't know, but he knew that Fives sometimes worried that the rest of their batch would always feel resentful towards the pair of them for putting a target on all their backs from day one. 

Rishi was nothing to really brag about, as Hevy liked to constantly remind them all, but Echo was just happy to have graduated and still be together with his brothers. Now that they wasn’t the pressure of passing the final test, the squad seemed more relaxed and at ease with each other, no longer at each other's throats about everything and anything, or endlessly complaining.

Well, most of the time. 

"You know I didn't think I would miss the mess grub on Kamino so much, but I am really tired of rations." gripes Hevy, who is hanging off his chair of the main command deck when he ought to be monitoring the outer atmosphere defenses. 

Echo keeps his mouth shut as he turns up the heat to their standard-issue burners and stirs his cubed ration in the gravy he managed to make out of the dregs of their last ration pack.

"For a base this important, I thought for sure there would be a standard kitchen for a KP staff. But no, we are stuck with A-D rations for the rest of the war." 

He hears more than sees his eldest batchmate take a dramatic bite from his ration bar. The Domino squad would never say it out loud, but Hevy could give Holonet soap opera stars a run for their credits.

"Well, sergeant did say this base was supposed to function on very little means with the most security.” rationalizes an appeasing Droidbait who is actually doing what he’s supposed to do and filing their hourly report. “Maybe too many droids and kitchen staff manning the kitchen presents too much of a security risk that we just can't afford to monitor."

Echo nods silently in agreement with his most agreeable brother as he to stirs the now stew-like mixture as it comes to a boil. 

"Okay then, genius,” Hevy snarks back. "If this base is so karking important, why not get more troopers here? The GAR can't spare another squad from the millions of us to man this very important, very critical base?" 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Droidbait huff in annoyance and turns his back to his eldest batchmate. He, like the rest of their batch, knows from too much experience that there is no winning an argument with Hevy. Echo rifles through his pack and finds his small canteen with the very valuable moonshine they were gifted from Fox squad before they left. He tips a small portion of it into his concoction. Echo gives it a small whiff and hums in contentment. That CT-1933 had a real talent for constructing stills. His boiling stew and its aroma permeate the now quiet observation deck. 

"What the hell are you doing over there, Echo?" Hevy asks as he approaches the youngest twin. His brother’s shadow looms over him, but Echo ignores him. No point going to all this effort if it ends up burnt.

"Are you cooking rations in an ammo box?!" Hevy asks flabbergasted. 

"Well, you keep complaining about the quality of food we have here. So we might as well try something different." Echo shoots back, and grumpily turns off the burner. 

"By cooking food in an ammo box?! That cannot be sanitary."

"Or regulation." pipes up Cutup, from his station at the window bay. "You sure you okay there, Echo?"

"I washed it, you di’kuts . How about trying it first before you all keep griping at me." he grouses back. 

His squad approaches hesitantly but with some curiosity as Echo spoons up a helping for them to try. Fives, ever his loyal twin, takes the helping. 

"I don’t know…" Fives says skeptically, but ever the dutiful brother scopes a spoonful and takes a tentative taste. 

His twin perks up in surprise and looks at Echo in admiration. 

"Echo, this ain't half bad! You managed to make even D rations taste good." 

"You're messing with us," Hevy accuses as he elbows his way forward. "Let me try." 

Fives gracious hands over the spoon to their eldest batcher with a flourish. The heavy gunner gives Echo's concoction a speculative sniff and his tongue barely peaks out from his mouth to taste the stew. Echo tries not to be too offended. Hevy had a right to be cautious. Fives could be a mischievous little shit sometimes. 

He smacks his lips much too loudly as if to get a better depth of flavor, and Droidbait rolls his eyes. Not like Hevy could be considered any kind of food connoisseur. 

"That is actually, really good." Hevy slowly concludes and scoops another spoonful and pops it in his mouth, and another, and another. 

"Hey!" Cutup barges in behind him and jockeys for the spoon. "Give Droidbait and me a chance to try it, you dolt."

 As Echo watches his brothers wrestle for the food he just made, Fives sidles next to him and pats his twin on the shoulder. 

"I think you have a real talent here, Echo." he say, his eyes full of pride. "Imagine what you could do with actual ingredients?" 

The younger twin tries to hid his blush under his brother’s proud gaze and shrugs nonchalantly, "It's really not that big of a deal, Fives. I just threw something together. Any one of us could have done it.”

"Wow, Echo!" exclaims Droidbait from his perch atop a very aggravated Hevy. "You have the makings of a real chef.” 

"Yeah," crows Cutup who is sitting on Hevy’s legs, noisily slurping up the rest of the bowl of stew. "Sarge should really put you in for KP duty. You still itching for ARC Trooper? Kitchen chef might be a better fit." 

Hevy manages to get his hand out from under Droidbait and smack Cutup on the side of the head and the wrestling for the bowl continues.   

"Well then, consider this the one and only time I make any of you anything."

 There is a cacophony of grones and protests, but Echo sniffs back in mock divisiveness. "I'll just have to save my cooking for myself and Sargeant O'Niner." 

"Oh, come on, Echo!" whines Cutup. “You know we were just giving you a hard time." 

"Yeah,"Fives chimes in. "It's what good brothers do." 

The younger twin rolls his eyes. 

"Right."

____________________

Echo doesn't really think much of his little concoction after that, but somehow, his talent for conjuring up tastable grub somehow gets around to the others on base, including the Sargeant. 

Echo thinks he has Fives to thank for that. 

Sergeant O’Niner is thoroughly impressed with his abilities and even manages to requisition some items other than dry rations for Echo to experiment with. They are all still non-perishable but are a welcome relief to just gulping down your rations that had no texture or real taste. After some thorough research and meticulous experimentation during his precious time in between shifts, Echo learns of the local flora and fauna on Rishi. He is as surprised as anyone else that there are things that constitute being edible on this desolate rock, but he learns enough to harvest some new ingredients while on duty as deck officer. 

When O’Niner somehow gets Supply and Requisitions to send a few spices along with their normal supply haul, it’s a game changer. The meals get better, morale increases, and Echo is even more content with his batch. Even Cutup pitches in to scrap together their own still to make CT-1933's concoction. It took some expensive bribes and promised favors to get Comms to get Cutup and Echo a direct line to CT-1933, or "Hootch", as he was now aptly dubbed by his new battalion. Thanks to his notes and advice, Cutup had a still that gave Echo's dishes a depth of flavor no clone on base had experienced. The sergeant even had to up there PT time just to make sure his now well-fed soldiers could still fit into their armor. 

"Worth it." Fives huffs out after their twelfth round of suicides up and down the docking bridge. 

Sure, there was still the occasional griping from Hevy, who was desperate to see frontline action, but the Domino squad finally felt content and at peace with one another and their mission. Echo could never claim that it had anything to do with his food, but seeing his batch contently laughing together over a bowl of his latest creation warmed his heart.

Chapter Text

Rishi Base was gone, and along with it, their platoon, their CO, their still, his recipes, and all of Domino squad save for Fives and himself. What had started as another monotonous day, had ended in tragic destruction. Echo wracks his brain for any memory of the time before the Separatist attack. 

What inane and irrelevant thing had they been griping at each other about in the barracks on the morning of what they couldn’t know, was their last time together? 

He remembers throwing Cut-Up’s noxious blacks at his head and snarking back at Hevy when the elder clone had said something to annoy him, which only led to Hevy and him butting heads for the rest of the day.  

What was it that Hevy had said?

Echo couldn’t think of it because, really, it hadn’t mattered. What matters is that he will never get to snark at his eldest batchmate ever again. 

He won’t ever get to lull an anxious Droidbait to sleep by reading the regulation manuals aloud as they snuggled together in a cot, the light of Echo’s datapad the only thing illuminating their barracks.

 He won’t get to have long talks with Cut-Up while the pair adjusted their still or cleaned their armor.  

All of this, and the emptiness of looking over Fives’ shoulder and not seeing the rest of his squad just there behind him hadn’t dawned on Echo until he sunk down onto the bottom bunk of a barrack aboard the Resolute. 

Droidbait. CutUp. Hevy. 

Dead and gone on a remote base, in the dark backwater of space. 

He hadn't realized his hands were trembling, clenched into tight fists until Fives dropped down from the upper bunk, crouched in front of his twin brother, and covered his trembling fists with his hands.  

"Echo," Fives whispers in the dark of the barracks. "Talk to me."

When his twin touches his forehead to his own, Echo lets out a stifled sob. He shuts his eyes and feels hot tears pour down his face as he silently cries for his batch mates. 

“It's all gone." he croaks out and deep sorrow fills Fives’ eyes. 

" They're all gone," Echo says again, and now he can hear his voice trembling. "Just like that, Fives. I know we were trained for this, I just thought. I thought we had more time. Can you believe that? I feel so stupid. The war was always going to find us, even on that desolate rock. Stupid. So stupid. Stupid!” 

Fives hushes him softly, raises both his hands to cradle his head, Echo clasps at Fives’ wrists, and holds on for dear life. Fives has always been the strong one, the rock he could crash into and never have to worry about breaking. He was all Echo had left. 

"They are not gone, Echo,” Fives reassures him in the dark and quiet of their empty barracks. "They are not gone." 

Echo just squeezes his eyes closed. 

"Just marching away," he answers, more like a prayer than a statement.

—

He doesn't remember how long he stays crouched together with Fives, mourning their loss, but the next time he wakes, the clone finds himself tucked tightly into his bunk, Five's extra set of blacks covering him in a makeshift blanket. His brother's top bunk is empty, so he gets himself dressed. He smells, and he hasn’t had an actual meal in hours.  

As he finishes pulling on his boots, the barrack door slides open to reveal Fives, much to his relief. He hadn’t liked the thought of wandering the venator all alone in search of his wayward brother. 

"Where did you go?" Echo asks pulling his helmet to his side. 

Fives shrugs, "Just went for a walk to scope out the place and dropped by the medbay."

Echo's eyes widen in shock. As far as he knew, Fives sustained minor injuries on Rishi, and even then, it always took him having to physically drag Fives to medical to get him to do his regular checkups. 

Fives, as always, senses his confusion and instead of a long-winded explanation, pulls out a pad of rolled-up flimsimat from his belt and holds it out to Echo. 

"I went to scrounge you up some flimsy so you can start your recipe book again," Fives says with a soft smile. “Kix, the Torrent Company medic, was real nice about it and was all too happy to hand over some flimsy if it meant hot food in the field. Said it would be, ‘good for morale’.” 

Echo fixes his twin with a grumpy stare, who just rolls his eyes in mostly mock exaggeration. 

"Don't you worry, that big smart head of yours," he assures. "Kix isn't going to let on about your special talents until you’re ready. The trooper’s lips are sealed. Doc and patient confidentiality, and all that." 

“He’s not a doctor,” Echo answers skeptically. “And I’m not a patient.” 

His twin just shrugs, “Eh, BaCAra, BAcara. The same principle applies.” 

Despite Fives’ odd logic, Echo feels himself sag in relief and takes the mat of flimsi, smoothing it out and thumbing through the blank pages.

"Thanks, Fives." he says softly with a smile, reaching out to envelop Fives in a much-needed embrace. 

It takes him a while to recall all the recipes he lost and extra diligence to get back some of the supplies he was used to having before Echo can try his hand at cooking again.

He doesn't have the luxury of being based in one place anymore, so Echo has to be much more creative about where and how he stores his small supply of ingredients, spices, and moonshine. 

Fives and Echo quickly discover that there’s more than one active still to be found on the Resolute . Each Company had proudly shown off their own brand of gut rot when asked. Fives still goes a little green when he even gets a whiff of the stuff Oddball and his pilots pass around.

Empty ammo cartridges still make excellent storage, and the large metal box they come in is even better for cooking on with the hot plate that Fives and he manages to build and outfit as a small camp stove. But after a few months with the 501st, Echo still hadn’t found the time or need to break out his supplies. Yet. 

They have hunkered down, making camp on Geonosis after a hard-won battle. Everyone is tired, sweaty, and sick of the rust-colored dust that has gotten into every crack and crevice of everything. And everyone is tired of eating a mouthful of sand with their rations. With the high winds just dying down, they finally got the clear from senior command to make a more permanent camp. 

Jesse and Fives are having a petty argument over the reliability of the former’s taut line hitch knot that is holding together their makeshift lodgings.

Hardcase, probably equally grouchy and bored out of his mind, decides to add oil to the fire and interjects with his own unhelpful commentary, and soon the whole platoon is squabbling with each other.

 Echo is much too hangry to deal with all this Bantha poodoo.

Amidst the literal and verbal jabs at each other, the lone trooper pulls out his small camp stove from his pack and settles a clean, empty ammo box down with much more force than necessary. He only manages to cook in peace for a few minutes before a long shadow darkens his workspace. 

Echo’s expecting to see Fives, Jesse, or Kix when he looks up.

He visibly flinches when he sees Commander Tano looking down at him with a wide-eyed and bright expression. Her head tilts to the side, and her montreals twitch in that subtle way  when something particularly interesting peaks her curiosity. 

"Hello!" she chirps at him happily when it's apparent that Echo is just going to continue to gape up at her. 

That finally snaps him out of it, and he stands to salute, but the Jedi Padawan quickly motions for him to remain seated. 

"Commander Tano! Sorry," he says quickly, fiddling with the switch of the hot plate.  "I was just..." 

Tano's small nose scrunches up to get a whiff of what’s coming from the simmering ammo box, and her widens in glee.

 "Are you cooking?!" She exclaims. Her voice carrying above to the bickering group behind him. "That's amazing. No one’s had a hot meal in days." 

He feels more than hears the rest of his platoon make a hasty entrance to peer over his shoulder to see what he's making. 

"Echo, you karking star." says Fives, who squeezes his shoulders in excitement. "I've been craving your dishes for forever." 

"Echo, have you been holding out on us the whole time?!!" cries Hardcase, and Echo flinches at its proximity. The trooper has settled right by his left ear and is hanging off his arm to get a sneak peek of Echo's concoction. 

"Yeah, what gives" grumbles Jesse who stands next to the commander,, his republic tattoo scrunching in that way he gets when he's particularly annoyed. "We've been together on countless campaigns, eating hard-tac and you've known how to cook this whole time!?” 

Echo rolls his eyes because he may be a lowly trooper and Jesse an on-track officer-in-training, but he knows the clone dishes snark out to all his brothers and expects some guff in return. 

"Couldn't figure out if you all were worth cooking for yet," Echo sasses back, and the platoon all take it in stride, Hardcase rubbing at Echo's newly cut hair and Jesse poking teasingly at his sides. 

"Well, aren't you a little clever vod'ika." Jesse replies as Ahsoka leans over Echo's concoction, sniffing it in interest. 

"Whatever it is," she concludes, giving Echo an adoring smile, "It smells delicious."

He can feel the tips of his ears turning red from the compliment, and he shyly smiles back, offering his spoon which the Jedi Padawan eagerly takes. The rest of his brother's take that opportunity to vocalize the indignity of being left out as Ahsoka visibly hums her approval once she's finished her tasting. 

"What ever happened to twin precedence?!?" Fives protest in dismay, jostling at Echo’s back to grab at the spoon. 

"She outranks you,” Echo shoots back, pulling the utensil away at just the right time. “ and she asked nicely." 

"The commander didn't even say anything." 

"Exactly." 

Fives grumbles petulantly as what looks like all of Torrent company gathers around Echo to watch him chop dried banta meat and plop them into the stew, along with his spices and rations. The smell slowly drifts through the camp, and soon Echo is batting away every conniving brother, attempting to grab a taste before it's ready. 

"As a commando who's been captured and tortured multiple times," grouses Sunshine, who is glowering behind an equally impatient Hawkeye. "I can honestly say this is worse."

Echo rolls his eyes, adds a dash of spices and chopped dried meat, lowers the heat, and places a makeshift lid on top of the large ammo box to let it simmer. More groans ripple through the group of troopers, all eagerly waiting in anticipation for the stew to finish. 

"Why don't you all carry on with what you were doing before?"Echo says grumpily, trying to shoo the crowding group of vod , literally breathing (and slobbering) down his neck. "I will call you when it's done." 

At that, Jesse firmly puts himself in front of the crowd of troopers to keep his position in the queue. 

"Not a chance, brother,” The trooper declares as he shoots an intimidating glare at a poor young shiny trying to flank his way between him and Fives. "There is no way I’m giving my portion of this food away after having to smell it for the last 15 minutes." 

There are grumbles of agreement, and if possible, the crowd tightens up even closer. Echo has no choice but to continue his cooking with a rapt audience as he stirs, tastes, and adds more spices to his liking. Some more interested troopers ask him to explain his recipe, and Echo happily lays out his methods step-by-step and even adds to it thanks to some input from Ahsoka and Oddball. 

Despite Fives’ protestations, he doesn't add chilis to the stew. 

If Echo is to be perfectly honest, all of this, the familiar routine of making the recipe and prepping the ingredients, is more for him than anything. It’s the best thing to calm his mind after the adrenaline-fueled stress of battle. As much as Echo disliked his batchmates poking fun at his proclivity to repeat orders and read regulation manuals, something was soothing to him to have a constant to rely on. Recipes were the same: a group of actions that rarely changed and were under his complete control in a time or place that rarely ever made sense or logic. The good food was just a very helpful biproduct of his hobby that he could share with his brothers. And he was happy to do it. 

The time finally comes for Echo to uncover the pot and serve portions of his stew to the eager group of troopers. Jesse and Fives visibly melt at the taste of warm food, a luxury they could not afford since the battle on Geonosis had started. 

"Echo," Kix says, his eyes alight with surprise and admirationn. "You made this stew with a handful of rations, water, and spices?" 

The younger clone blinks back at the medic and feels much to be in the spotlight as others equally lay on praise his cooking skills. 

"Yes?" he says quietly. 

"It's just something I picked up on while on Rishi." Echo adds, matter-of-fact, with a shrug. "Just a way of preservation for our squad, really. Sometimes, it was the only thing to get Fives and Hevy to shut up and stop bothering me." 

"Hey!" Comes Fives' distant and muffled protests around a spoonful of food. 

"Well, you definitely have a gift, vod ." Kix says to him thoughtfully as he watches the rest of the clones enjoying their stew around the heat lamps."This is the happiest I've seen our brothers in a long time." 

"Any one of us could do it, really." Echo says modestly, ducking his head shyly ."If they know which GAR equipment to use and a step-by-step recipe."

Echo doesn’t realize it at the time, but that throwaway comment and his stew on Geonosis is only the beginning. A beginning to notoriety. Sort of.