Chapter Text
It was the final stage of his defensive plan. He knew the rest of Clone Force 99 would come for her; he was counting on it, actually. The training facility, Hemlock’s own, personal vault. Of course, it was of tremendously less value than the specimens, but it was his secret weapon. The hallway was barren; he’d sent Scorch to guard the vault and other soldiers to fend off the Zillo Beast through air support. His last round of defense was his elite group of clone troopers, the Shadow Troopers.
He arose to the upper platform on the lift and hastily strode over to the control panel, opening the four tubes that surrounded him. Red smoke huffed through the air and puffed out of the tubes as they slid open, revealing troopers. Their helmets slide on one by one. Covering the unharmed face of a largely built clone, the un-tattooed face of a shorter clone with longer hair, the un-burnt face of a taller, skinnier clone, and the scarred face of a corpse, a corpse brought back from death. As the helmet locked into place, the troopers stepped out from the tubes, readying their various weaponry: dual vibroblade swords, a large Class-A sniper, and a standard-issue electric staff. The largely built clone didn’t bother with a weapon; he simply cracked his neck and stood tall, awaiting orders.
…
Wrecker was struggling to climb. His chest wound had barely stopped bleeding, the climb wasn’t soothing his anxiety either, but he had to get to his sister; she was in there, and he was going to get her out. Crosshair continued to tremble – it was all coming back to him – all the horrors of Tantiss – but he was getting in there to rescue his sister. Hunter was blinded by nothing; nothing was getting in his way, nothing was getting between him and his kid. The Zillo Beast had almost completely destroyed the docking bay, but it was stable enough support for the Batch to enter the grounds. Hunter led them through the wreckage – awaiting hand signals as they navigated the debris – when Hunter sensed the presence of another with them.
The electric current of another weapon and headset system nearby vibrated in Hunter’s nervous system. They weren’t alone. They weren’t with regular troopers either. He dove back, commanding his brothers to do the same as a blast came from atop a piece of wreckage. They hid behind the remnants of an aircraft, assessing the situation as the firing increased. Crosshair peaked above their cover and saw something he never wanted to see again. The Shadow Trooper squad. Hunter was attempting to make a plan, but all that ran through Crosshair’s mind was that squad. That squad he was meant to be a part of. Hemlock had perfected the conforming methods. Those troopers could’ve been him.
“Crosshair!” Hunter was shaking him, one hand over Crosshair’s trembling ones.
Plan 34 was their agreed course of action to take down this new set of troopers. They weren’t all new. The sniper was there. He watched them with cold, dead eyes as they set up their offensive. The brawny Shadow Trooper grabbed a chunk of shrapnel and held it up as a shield, charging into their line of offense. Crosshair sent shaky coverage from the side as Wrecker charged through the center of their line. Hunter hid off the left side, attempting to sneak up on the other troopers, but a shorter one with the dual vibroblade swords noticed his movements and charged for him. Hunter was knocked back, attempting to use what was left of his forearm bracers to block the blow, but at his side, Wrecker had been struck back by the large trooper, and the skinnier one with the electric staff had him pinned to the ground, shoving the electric force into Wrecker’s already gaping chest wound. Hunter could hear over the chaos Wrecker’s anguished cry, and the electric force irritated Hunter’s nervous system incredibly, weakening his strength as the vibroblades pressed into him further and further. They merely broke the armor when a chunk of debris was knocked down by the larger trooper, trapping Hunter beneath it.
Crosshair sent more shots across the room, drawing the Shadow Troopers away from Hunter so he could race across the burning docking bay. Crosshair lifted it enough to drag Hunter’s unconscious body out from the wreckage, but the larger trooper had knocked Crosshair back against the wall. Crosshair ached but noticed Hunter’s smaller blaster was not far from him. He stretched out to reach it when a foot crashed down into his wrist. The one with the dead stare, the corpse. Crosshair knew the fear was swarming his eyes, merely ready to beg for mercy at the foot of the soldier. The trooper extended his hand, and the shorter trooper tossed him one of his vibroblades. The Shadow trooper aligned his aim for Crosshair’s wrist, hovering the blade enough for Crosshair to feel the heat radiating off the blade.
“You should be careful with your shooting hand.” The muffled voice of the dead-eyed trooper sent a shiver down Crosshair’s spine, only to be sharply countered by the searing of his hand at the sheer force of the vibroblade hacking his wrist off in one clean swipe.
…
The Zillo Beast escaped… of course it did. Echo knew that was the issuing of his younger sister. He was, however, far from disappointed. Recalling the members of his old squadron, if anyone was the last Domino, it was her. If he didn’t make it out of this, Omega was the rest of his legacy. Emerie was now leading him through the Tantiss facility in an attempt to locate these children in the science docking bay. The hallways were chaotic, but Echo and Emerie had to move composedly in order to avoid attracting attention. As they hastily made their way through the hall as collected as possible, 3 medical bay tables moved by in the hall in front of them, each one with a different member of Clone Force 99, lying unconscious, with various portions of their bodies being covered with blood. Echo did his best not to react, but Emerie knew.
As Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair’s bodies made their way out of the hall, Emerie cautiously walked up to Echo and softly uttered, “That was the rest of your squad, wasn’t it?”
Echo sighed.
It was.
…
Omega had made her way apart from the chaos of the Zillo Beast with the rest of the children left in the vault. Omega’s goal was to reach her brothers and follow their course of action for escape. She had no idea where she would be meeting them, but she knew that she had to. She neared the science docking bay that was lined with soldiers and turned to make sure that Jax could keep Baryn quiet enough so that they could slowly creep along the side wall. Soldiers were soon called out of the bay to enter the action – at the fault of the Zillo Beast – clearing the path for Omega and the children to near the science shuttle left in the docking bay. To ensure their complete safety, she kept them hidden behind cargo containers, until two troopers spotted their movements. The two troopers had them on one side of the container and a third on the other, trapping them there.
“Hey, what are you kids doing?” One of the troopers barked before the third trooper raised his blaster to stun the other two troopers.
The kids were utterly confused. Omega specifically had the children behind her, attempting to protect them from this oddly rogue soldier. The trooper chuckled under his breath, removing his helmet to reveal himself as Echo. “Hey kid,”
Omega’s face lit up, and the other children shuffled out from behind her, “...and other kids.”
Emerie came out from the other side of the cargo container with her data pad in hand. Eva’s face lit up at the sight of her. “You’ve come to help us, Dr. Carr?”
Emerie smiled, a sense of relief briefly washing over her, “Yes, Eva.”
They shuffled the children away from the cargo container, quickly to the science shuttle. Emerie led the kids up to the loading bay and began to urge the children to get on the ramp. Many ships were leaving the bay to join air support; thus, it was the optimal time to escape without being noticed. Eva stopped on the ramp, however, when she turned to see that Omega would not be going with them.
Eva looked at Omega with her large, innocent eyes, pleading for her with a simple gaze. Omega shook her head. “My fight is here. I have to save my brothers.”
Emerie placed her hand on Eva’s shoulder and handed Omega her datapad. “This will help you get access to other places in the building.”
“Can you fly this ship?” Echo asked, making one last sure attempt to keep these children safe.
Emerie nodded, but Eva was still staring at Omega, as well as Jax, Sami, and Baryn just sleeping. They all rushed around her to give her a big hug. “Emerie is going to take you somewhere safe. We’ll meet you there.”
They all somberly smiled as Emerie began to shoo them into the transport. As soon as the transport left the atmosphere, Echo and Omega were off to find their brothers.
…
Hunter awoke strapped to a table with metal bracers around his leg and wrist and a guard around his shoulders. His head was stuck in some sort of machine, surrounding him with bright light, irritating his highly sensitive eyes. Examining his surroundings, Wrecker was unconscious, lying in a larger machine similar to the one Hunter had been stuck in. Then there was Crosshair, in the same machine, with a droid searing a piece of metal to where his hand used to be. He could feel the current radiating off the medical machinery in his nerves, making his hand twitch restlessly beneath the arm bracer. Hunter could only assume what had happened to his brother’s hand. It must have happened while Hunter lost consciousness. Lastly, there was Hemlock, standing next to his Shadow troopers with his arms smugly held behind his back, puffing out his chest with a slow smirk creeping onto his face. He stepped forward and with a low voice, uttered out, “Clones are so predictable.”
Hunter grunted in response, struggling to sit up and look at Hemlock properly. Hemlock began to chuckle at Hunter’s struggling, watching his chest beat the shoulder guards and his fist clenched. He could see the muscles in his neck clench as he tried to get out, the rage building up in a burning flame in his eyes, the anguished grunting that choked out of his throat.
“Your struggle is useless.” Hemlock turned around, slowly striding back towards his Shadow troopers, “If I had control over your Kaminoin facility, you wouldn’t be in this position.”
Confusion now began to radiate in Hunter’s blind rage, watching Hemlock examine the helmets of the Shadow Troopers. His senses also began to pick up Crosshair’s increasing heart rate, indicating to Hunter that his brother was waking up. Wrecker’s began to ring in Hunter’s ears as well. His brothers were still there.
“You would’ve been mine, and I wouldn’t need them.” Hemlock fussed with a nob on all four of the troopers' helmets.
Hunter’s eyes grew wide.
The largest of the shadow troopers removed the face shield of the helmet, revealing the face of his brother, Wrecker, yet he was scarless with a short dark buzzcut. Hunter was horrified. He looked over at Wrecker, still struggling to awaken. Another trooper, the taller one, removed his dark face shield to reveal the face of another brother – Crosshair – he had no tattoo, no burns on the side of his head, and no silver hair peaking from his skull. Hunter glanced at his other brother in the room, watching Crosshair’s eyes struggle to open as he fought the machine. The shortest, the one who pinned Hunter to the ground, removed his helmet to allow hair the same as his to fall out of it, with the face nearly the same as his own, without the tattoo marking over half of his mug. Fear. That was the sheer feeling rushing over Hunter. He attempted to look at his brothers once more, but the strain in his neck held him back on the table. The strain. The fear. It was all overwhelming to him. Looking back up once more at the only Shadow Trooper left, still with his helmet on. Hemlock stood by him – the smile on his face increasing in intensity – a chuckle almost escaping his lips.
“Aren’t you glad you got his goggles back?” Hemlock smiled, unfastening the helmet off the trooper.
The trooper raised his hand to his helmet and lifted it off his face. The steam that leaked from the mask and the red lights radiating off the control panels covered the trooper’s face, but a strong stare burned through the fog. His head lacked any hair, with his skin a deathly pale color. As the smoke cleared, scarring was heavily marked across his forehead and brow, almost circling his eyes. His eyes. They stared coldly. They were pale white. Pale, white, dead eyes. As dead as they were, they were familiar, eerily familiar. Hunter’s face gradually filled with more terror as Hemlock’s smile continued to hauntingly grimace. A chuckle lightly burst through his lips, a hearty, deep chuckle. The smoke was almost nearly gone. The trooper's scarring went across his eyes and forehead and slightly onto his nose and cheeks. Nose and cheek that were all too familiar. The red smoke slowly dispersed. Hunter was petrified.
It was Tech.
But Tech was dead.
He still was. He didn’t look like Tech anymore. He was blind, he was pale, he was dead.
Hemlock's chuckle had turned into a cackle, a cacophonous hackle that echoed as Hunter stared back at his former brother. As lost as Crosshair looked amongst imperials, Tech looked worse. He was Tech, but he was still dead.
“Marvelous, isn’t it? CT-9904, an unsuccessful combatant to my experiments, but CT-9902,” Hemlock laughed, “the perfect specimen.”
Tech’s mind, his brilliant mind. It was thought to have died with him, died with him as he fell to his death on Eraidu. But no, his brilliant, practical, tactical mind died with Hemlock’s blasphemous experiments. He was now a mindless bot in Hemlock’s plans. Hunter’s eyes were threatening him with tears. He looked at Crosshair through blurry eyes. He couldn’t see his horrified expression, but he could feel Crosshair’s rapid heartbeat.
“At least there was one of you I didn’t have to clone,” Hemlock said, coming off the laughter.