Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Just another boring day for FCT-9905.

She got up, ate, went to basic training, ate again, and went back to the bunk room to get changed for lights out.

 Her squadmates didn’t like her very much, and she wasn’t very sure why.

Maybe it was because she didn’t look like the rest of her brothers, or that she was the only girl she knew, other than some of the kaminoans.

 Maybe it was because her handler was starting her individual training in spy work.

Whatever the reason was, her squadmates hated her, and FCT-9905 did her very best to avoid them.

 She felt very smart for thinking of it, and she decided that she was a pretty smart little Blue. Not many of her brothers would have thought of it… then again, not many of them had this problem.

 But there were still times where she simply couldn’t stay out of their way, like mealtimes, group simulations, and lights out.

 “I feel like you shouldn’t have such a nice bunk,” Lesson said, a mean smile on his face.

FCT-9905 blinked.

 She didn’t know what he was talking about, and she was sure that he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

 There weren’t many ways for the cadets on Kamino to learn from outside sources, that was a privilege reserved for the cadets that were going out for field training, and almost none of the mass produced cadets were there yet.

 “Yeah, you got such a nice warm bed and a nice squad I don’t know many others that would put up with you,” CT-6010 laughed, “You got nice things without even trying!”

 “I-i don’t understand.” FCT-9905 stammered, “Because that’s wrong. I sleep on a pile of boxes as far away from your bunks as I can.”

 This entire interaction was not necessary. She had only been changing into her night clothes, the only outfit that didn’t scratch her skin raw.

 “That’s- that’s not what I mean. You get a nice place to sleep. Be thankful for that, Runt.” Slash sneered, the decanting defect across his face twisting as he ripped her shirt out of her hands and pushed her back, making her fall to the floor.

 FCT-9905 didn’t understand why Slash of all cadets was cruel to her. He had a defect just like she did!

 Sure, the scar-like mark looked cool, and it didn’t affect him very much outside of the daily checkups that the kaminoans gave them, but he was like her!

 “My name isn’t Runt!” She whined, trying to grab her shirt from Slash, “Give that back!”

He laughed and held it higher over her head, and she could just barely grab onto the edge while standing on her tip toes.

 She was too focused on Slash to notice CT-6010 until he rammed into her chest, knocking her back to the floor and leaving her gasping for air as she curled around the ache from the point of impact.

 It looked like she was going to be going to bed bruised tonight.

“Aww, little Runt, too small to even fight back.” Lesson teased cruelly, leaning over her, “Maybe they’ll have to decommission you.”

 “Stop being so mean!” FCT-9905 shouted back, jumping to her feet and throwing a hard punch to Lesson’s gut, remembering some of the things she’d learned in basic training.

 Keep moving, be light on your toes, and try not to get hit.

Lesson swallowed hard, bent double from the surprise and pain.

 FCT-9905 let herself be proud for a short moment before the older clone straightened and punched her in the eye.

 Maybe she should have paid more attention to the trainer.

Her head snapped back and she saw stars. FCT-9905 dropped to her knees, meeting the cold floor for the third time in the last ten minutes.

“Little Runt thinks she can be stronger than us.” Slash hissed. CT-6010 laughed and kicked her in the side, digging into the soft part under her ribs while she was already down.

“Well, we can’t let that happen now can we?” Lesson smirked, enjoying how FCT-9905 coughed and squirmed away from the kicks that were now coming from the other two clones.

 “I-i’m sorry!” She gasped, tears falling as she covered her neck from the blows raining down on her.

 “What are you sorry for, Runt?”

Lesson was leaning over her, his boot digging harshly into her ribs, putting nearly all his weight down on her.

 “I-i'm sorry for talking back!” She wheezed, “I'm sorry for thinking I'm good for anything accept for helping you and-”

FCT-9905 didn’t move, praying to the stars she had only seen in textholos that Lesson wouldn’t press down harder.

 If she stayed still…

“And?” 

 It was getting harder for her to breathe and it felt like she was suffocating under the weight.

 “I’m sorry for living. Surviving past decanting and taking resources that better men could be using-” She sobbed.

 “Hmmm.” Lesson hummed.

“I think she’s had enough, Less.” CT-6010 sighed, “If she dies, we’ll probably get into big trouble. You know that the kaminoans think she’s a fun science project.”

 “He's right.” Slash muttered, “She keeps them from poking at me.”

“Fine.” Lesson grumbled, pressing his boot in harshly one last time before stepping away from her, leaving the small clone laying prone on the ground, “You’re lucky that we follow the rules. That you have caring brothers that see your value.”

 Her value was being a distraction so that her squadmates could be free from the scientists that made them.

 She pulled herself to her feet as soon as she got her breath back, grabbing the shirt that had been discarded a couple steps away, biting down a groan as she moved.

 FCT-9905 hobbled to the fresher connected to their room, gingerly touching the inflamed skin around her eye, feeling a small trickle of blood from the cut through her eyebrow.

 The lights cut out suddenly, plunging the refresher and the adjoining bunk room into darkness, signalling lights out.

 “Runt, get out of there! It’s lights out, which means sleep!” Slash shouted, “Stars know that we don’t need you making us fail any more tests.”

FCT-9905 sighed and left the refresher, heading for the barracks door instead of the sad little bed in the corner.

Nobody tried to stop her from leaving, even if there were a few vengeful mutters from CT-6010 when the bright light of the hallway momentarily lit up the dark room.

She liked wandering the halls, especially when she definitely wasn’t supposed to.

“Stupid Lesson, thinking he’s better than me. I’m not the reason that we keep failing. He is the reason.” FCT-9905 grumbled under her breath as she walked along, her bare feet patting against the cold floors, “Stupid Slash for being taller. I’m not small, I'm normal sized!”

 She sighed and looked at the walls around her, trying to figure out where she had wandered.

 This was a whole new section of the facility that she hadn’t discovered yet, and the thrill made her momentarily forget her anger and pain.

 Cadets weren’t supposed to be out in the halls like this, but if her squadmates could beat on her whenever they thought they could, she could wander as far as she wanted.

 The Kaminoans that made her and the handler that oversaw all her training definitely didn’t like it, but what were they going to do? Decomm her? 

 If they hadn’t already, they probably weren’t going to now.

She pulled a face, wincing as her bruised eye twinged sharply. The blood was drying from the cut in her eyebrow, making her skin feel tighter.

 FCT-9905 tried to wipe it off, but it was pretty stuck on, and the action only reopened the injury.

 While she fiddled with the cut, she heard a commotion from up ahead, coming towards her.

 If it was one of the trainers or a kaminoan, she would get into huge trouble, because Blues were supposed to be in bed.

 If it was another cadet FCT-9905 would probably get beat up again, something she didn’t want.

 To avoid whoever it was, she dove into a nearby storage room, the door closing behind her and plunging the room into complete darkness.

 She felt her way around, tucking herself behind some tall crates, biting her tongue to stop whines of pain from escaping as her already bruised side was squished even further.

 The door of the storage closet opened again, just as she had finished tucking herself away.

 FCT-9905 froze, holding her breath as a loud cadet laugh echoed through the room.

“Look at the big oaf! Aw, don’t cry, you’re too old for that, CT-9902!” The cadet guffawed loudly, his taunts followed by a loud crash as somebody was pushed into the boxes FCT-9905 was hiding behind.

Her squeak of pain was hidden under the loud cadets at the door.

It took her a second to notice what the cadet had been called.

His ID number started with 99 too, so what if he had been decanted weird like her? She had heard that Slash’s other batchmates had other defects like him, and it made her wonder if that was how it worked.

Or maybe it didn’t and she was the only weird one in the facility, destined to be a stress reliever in the worst ways.

“You don’t want me to fight you,” came the small voice of the cadet being bullied. FCT-9905 winced slightly, hearing herself in his voice, “I might hurt’ya by accident!”

 “Oh, excuses!” The laughing cadet scoffed.

“I- you guys are idiots.” Said the victim.

 “Oh? You think words can hurt us? You’re a moron.” The bully paused, letting his crew laugh for a minute before continuing, “You gotta get up earlier than that to come up with something that would actually hurt my feelings. But you might be too busy sleeping.”

 FCT-9905 squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the sound of a fist hitting skin and the door to the closet closing.

 She let out the breath she had been holding, trying to tell it CT-9902 was still there.

Then she heard a soft sniffle and she pushed herself further into the shelter of the crates, flinching when her elbow banged against the wall.

 The sniffling stopped and the victim’s voice echoed through the small room.

“Who’s there?”

FCT-9905 held herself as still as possible, clenching her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

 “I’m sorry if I scared you.” The victim was shuffling around, getting closer to her hiding spot.

Something in his voice made her want to believe that he actually meant it, but her squad had taught her to not trust what others say.

“Please, you can come out, I won’t hurt you.” 

FCT-99051 strained her eyes, trying to see the cadet in the lack of light, failing miserably to see what he looked like.

 But his voice was coming from a spot further above her head when she stood, and that must mean that he was older than her.

 “Are you a clone?” CT-9902 asked, and she got the feeling that he was young, despite his apparent size, possessing a kind of innocence that Tubies and really new Blues had.

 “Yeah.” She whispered.

“You sound kinda weird. Your voice is higher than normal” He pointed out, making her wince, “But that’s ok! I’m weird too, see!”

 She couldn’t see much, but she took his word for it.

“I sound like this because I’m a girl.” She muttered.

 “What’s a girl?” CT-9905 asked.

“Um…” FCT-9905 thought back to when she asked a kaminoan that same question, “A girl is somebody that doesn’t have a penis and a bunch of test-ost-erone.”

 Those were the words that the kaminoan had used, and she didn’t quite understand all of them but she was going to once she was allowed to use the archives freely for upper-level training.

 “Oh.” The other clone breathed, “That means you're different too. That’s ok, I don’t mind!”

“Really? Everybody else does.” FCT-9905 huffed, wincing when her ribs reminded her that they were rather bruised still.

 “I know.” CT-9902’s voice sounded sad. 

They sat in silence for a moment, unsure of how to continue. They were similar in their experiences, and it made FCT-9905 more ready to trust him.

 “Um… maybe. Maybe we can be different together?” She asked.

“You would want that?” He sounded startled and confused, “Don’t you already have a squad?”

 She sighed, “Yeah, but they’re mean and they don’t like me. I’m only good for being a distraction to protect Slash from being poked and prodded at.”

 Warm tears pricked at her eyes and she tried to wipe them away, but was reminded that she had wedged herself too far into the crack to move without agitating her bruises.

 “Are you ok?” CT-9905 asked, placing a hand against her chest, making her wince again. He quickly moved away.

 “I-” She shivered, “I’m ok. I just need some bacta for my bruises." 

CT-9905 hummed and scooped her out of her hiding place and up against his chest.

 Her stomach dropped with the sudden movement and she grabbed onto the other cadet’s tunic.

 “Sorry, sorry.” He whispered as he carried her out into the brightly lit hall.

In the light FCT-9905 was able to really see what CT-9905 looked like.

 “Oh, look, you have yellow hair!” He grinned, but his face fell asleep his eyes took in her other features, “And your face looks hurt. You might have to stay in the med-bay for a bit to get it fixed.”

 She nodded and closed her eyes against the lights as they started moving, relishing in being held like a Tubie again.

~<*>~

 CT-9902 didn’t know what to think about the little clone he was carrying.

He wasn’t even sure what a ‘girl’ was, except that she appeared to be one.

 And he was thrilled that there was another defective clone, like him. CT-9902 didn’t want anything else to happen to her, but he had been told by his handlers that he wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

 They wanted him to be destructive, not protective.

“CT-9902? Are you ok?” The cadet in his arms asked, cracking an eye open to look up at him.

 Her eyes were a different color from the brown eyes that he saw all day, kind of hazel-ish.

“I’m fine. Why?”

 “You stopped walking.”

He had?

“How do you know my number?” He asked once he started moving again.

“I heard those bullies calling you that.” She muttered, “I’m FCT-9905 by the way.”

 “No name yet?” Having a name given to a clone by his brothers was one of the highest honors a cadet could have. But, sometimes cadets would pick their own nicknames, especially if they were cocky enough.

 “Yep. My squad wants to call me ‘Runt’ but I refuse.” FCT-9905 huffed, a bit of fierceness peaking through her shyness.

 “What does runt mean?” CT-9902 asked.

“It means small and weak. Most likely to die because I’m disadvantaged.” She grumbled, “It doesn’t help that our first couple of sims ended in failure because of me.”

 “I don’t think you’re like that.” CT-9902 said loyally as he finally reached the med-bay doors.

 “Mm, thanks, but you don't really know me.” FCT-9905 breathed, wincing as she was jostled by CT-9902’s movement to open the door.

 “Sorry, sorry.” He didn’t like that she was in pain, it made something feel itchy in his brain.

The opening doors startled the medical droid and the medic apprentice that had been talking at the far end of the room.

“What is this?” The cadet asked.

“Her squadmates beat ‘er up.” CT-9902 growled, “Now she’s hurt. Can you help?”

“I just need a little bacta.” FCT-9905 muttered, “I’ll be fine.”

The apprentice motioned for CT-9902 to put the girl down on an unoccupied bed, grabbing a scanner and waving it over FCT-9905’s body,

 “While your injuries are mild, it’s a serious issue.” The cadet sighed, looking over the device's readout, “This should not have happened to you.”

 “Well, it did.” FCT-9905 shrugged, “Unless you can change their attitude towards me, it’ll keep happening.”

“Can I make a request to get our squads switched?” CT-9902 asked, a sudden thought striking him.

“You can, but it’s not very often that the kaminoans approve the switches. They try to keep their squads together so that a sense of familiarity can be established. But if you two are in serious danger-”

“I’m bleeding because my squad wanted to pick on me.” FCT-9905 interrupted, “What do you think'll happen if I make ‘em real mad?”

The medic apprentice sighed again and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll start the paperwork for your transfer. You're also going to have to put in requests, but me doing a part of it will bring more attention to your case.” He paused, “I don’t want you two going back to your squads tonight, alright? You can get your stuff in the morning, when the kaminoans are awake.”

“Thank you.” FCT-9905 smiled, closing her eyes and falling into an easy sleep, the bacta slowly healing the bruising over her eye.

“Are both of you 99s?” The apprentice asked, looking through their records as he filled out forms.

“Yeah.” CT-9902 said, unsure of what the other cadet was insinuating.

“I get why they split you guys up, but I know a bunch of cadets that can be really mean. They might grow out of it, but a lot of them are almost Tweens.”

 “Yeah.” He shrugged, picking up FCT-9905’s limp hand and running a finger over her finger nails. He felt a little restless now that she was sleeping, and the other cadet actually being sympathetic to him made him feel uneasy.

 “You should know that they won’t let you stay a two clone squad for very long. The Kaminoans are trying to fill some kind of quota and every squad needs at least four cadets, for now at least.” The cadet informed him.

 “I don’t care.” CT-9902 frowned at him, “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been working in the library for a while now, since I'm going to become a medic.” The apprentice said, “I find some interesting stuff when I get bored. Anyway, maybe they’ll put the rest of your batch with you.”

 “What do you mean by that?” He asked the apprentice.

“I have medical records attached to a couple other cadets that came from batch 99, but because of patient confidentiality, I can’t exactly give them to you.” The cadet laughed, “the kaminoans would have my head if I did.”

 “But there’s more?” CT-9902 asked.

“There are more.” And the apprentice left, taking his datapad with him, leaving only the medical droid with the two of them.

 “More brothers, like us.” He breathed, resting his chin on his hands as he closed his eyes, “I wonder how we’ll find them.”

 They waited a couple days in a temporary sleeping room, but the morning of the second day brought their new placements.

 The two cadets settled into their new barracks, far from their previous squads, and had also received their new training schedules.

 “The longnecks work quicker than I thought they would.” CT-9902 hummed, using the term that some of the more angry of the clones had come up with for their creators. His schedule was written in small letters that he didn’t quite know how to read.

 “They don’t want their precious ‘experiments’ dying before they can get some real data.” FCT-9905 scoffed as she tucked the edges of her only blanket under the mattress, “They want to know how we can be useful to them.”

 “What are they training you for?” He asked her.

“Mm, Spy work mostly. Sabotage when they get around to it. Apparently they think that I can be useful for infiltration. What about you?”

 “Demolition.” He grinned, his eyes shining, “Ballistics. I really like it because I get to break things and I’m learning how to blow things up.”

 “That’s much cooler than knowing how to blend into a crowd.” She huffed, “What are you learning about right now?”

 “The best chemical compounds that you can force to bond that’ll make the best explosions, and the encapsulating those compounds in a metal shell that’ll delay the reaction long enough for you to run away.” He said, “I also learned how to bust through a permacrete wall with as little injury as possible.”

 “You like wrecking things, don’t you.” FCT-9905 said, her eyes furrowed in thought, “Hmmm…”

 “What?” CT-9902 asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I think I know what your name should be!” She grinned, her smile bright.

 “What do you mean?” He asked again, feeling a little excited, but unsure if that’s how names worked. His previous squadmates would just shout something at each other during a sim and it kinda just stuck.

 “Wrecker!”

“Huh? You mean like-”

 “Yeah! It’s easier than shouting ‘CT-9902’ across a battlefield, and it’s what you do!” FCT-9905 was practically shaking with excitement, “It fits you perfectly!”

 Wrecker. He liked it.

He was Wrecker now, a name given to him by his first actual nice clone he had met. Now he needed to return the favor.

 FCT-9905 needed a name too.

The opportunity came a couple days later, during one of their first few training simulations together.

 It was one of the more simple ones, Wrecker and FCT-9905 just needed to get to the center of the dummy droid formation and retrieve the intel from the computer setup.

 They were halfway through when Wrecker noticed FCT-9905’s interesting fighting style.

She was only a Blue, but she had this way of skillfully avoiding stunbolts while firing back her own with the shotty training pistols, working gracefully like she had been born to dance across the field rather than just charging like Wrecker.

 “Hey, Grace! I need cover over here!” He shouted, his voice echoing across the sim battlefield.

 “What did you just call me?” She yelled back, rolling underneath a dummy droid and stunning it, popping up at Wrecker’s side to lay down cover fire.

 “It's your name!” Wrecker laughed maniacally, punching a droid in the face and denting the metal.

 “Really? Now?” She asked, giving him an incredulous look from under her training helmet.

 “Yep. You’re Grace now.”

She was grinning now too, but the feeling was short lived as they had to jump away from each other as a burst of stunbolts crackled against the floor where they had just been.

 Wrecker focused on the droids as Grace motioned that she would be sneaking ahead to grab the information.

 He lost sight of her for a moment, even though he had been looking directly at her, but he blamed it on the stunbolts that he had to dodge away from while returning his own shots.

 The droids froze a couple minutes later as Grace managed to pull the information, ending the sim in record time. 

 They were rewarded with an extra-big dinner that night after their study sessions later in the day.

 “We make a great team.” Grace said, sipping her soup neatly, the complete opposite from Wrecker’s mess. The bruise on her face was almost gone now, being only a faint yellow over her eye now.

 “Our strengths just go together.” He agreed wisely.

“Makes me wonder why they even separated us in the first place.” She sighed, “Maybe they could have had us working together sooner.

 Wrecker shrugged, setting down his cleaned-out bowl. His tray was empty now, and he was still hungry, even with the extra food they had been given.

 Grace looked up and noticed the expression on his face and pushed her small loaf of bread closer to him, nodding.

 He smiled and grabbed it, eating it slowly to make it last a little longer.

“They should give you bigger trays on a daily basis.” Grace said, “You keep growing too fast. We should keep a stash of snacks somewhere in our barracks for you.”

 “Stealing food isn’t allowed, sad squad.” A random cadet jeered at them as he walked past with his buddies.

 Grace rolled her eyes and simply went on eating, but Wrecker couldn’t ignore the jab. What right did this clone have to call them ‘sad?!

 “What makes you think you aren’t any sadder than us?” He asked, getting to his feet to tower over the cadet that gulped, seeming to realize that he messed up.

 “Uh..”

“That’s enough Wrecker.” Grace called, her hand resting in his tightly clenched one as she got up to put her tray in the washer, “I think you’ve scared ‘im sufficiently.”

 “I ain’t scared!” The cadet hissed, his hands shaking where he was gripping his tray, “Pipsqueak!”

 “I’m not insulted by a little baby Blue that can’t even use proper grammar.” Grace said, her back straightening, her face falling into a deadly calm expression that made even Wrecker feel a bit uneasy.

 The tray in her hand was starting to look like a potential weapon now.

“I- I’m almost a Tween!” The cadet stammered, trying to gain back some credit, “Not that you would know what that’s like, since you’re such a runt!”

 Grace screamed in anger and bashed her tray over the cadet’s head, and hell broke loose.

~<*>~

 This situation was not desirable, but it was exhilarating.

She grumbled as sticky soup spilled down her clothes from the bowl she had grabbed from a nearby table, but she looked far better than the other cadets that were covered in other, grosser, things.

 “Grace, I thought you were supposed to not start food fights!” Wrecker teased, “But I’m glad you did it and not me! That means I won’t be blamed this time!”

 The half eaten loaf of bread that the taller clone had smacked another cadet in the eye, knocking him off the table he had been using as high ground to throw food at the other cadets.

 “Yeah, well, now we need to get out of here or I will really be taking the blame for this.” Grace said, rolling her eyes, “Which I will refuse because I wasn’t the instigator!”

 “You were the one that bashed that cadet over the head!” Wrecker laughed, “The sound it made was funny!”

 The food fight had picked up in intensity as the entire mess hall of cadets got swept up in the conflict. Food was flying everywhere, splattering against walls, and some of the cadets were even resorting to punching and kicking each other.

 “Laugh later, escape consequences now!” Grace giggled, stabbing a cadet’s hand with a spoon as she slipped away, Wrecker on her tail.

 They had just made it to the door as a shout rang out over the hubbub.

“The weirdos are getting away!”

 Eerie stillness fell and all eyes turned to Grace and Wrecker, who were now standing frozen by the doors.

 “Kark-” Grace cursed, “Run for it!”

Wrecker’s laughter followed them down the hall as they bolted, a large mob of messy cadets behind them.

 “Take a left!” Wrecker yelled as the hall in front of them split into two corridors, even though the whole stampede following them could hear him too.

 Grace shook her head and grabbed his wrist, tugging him to the right at the last second.

“What was that for?” Wrecker asked, rubbing his wrist.

 “Don't announce your plan to our enemies.” Grace huffed, turning down another hallway and running straight into another cadet.

 She pushed away from him, but was bowled over a moment later by Wrecker tripping over her. He landed on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs and making her groan as her almost healed ribs were squished.

 “Ow- Wrecker get off- Ow!” She yelped, trying to wiggle out from under her much heavier brother.

 “What’s going on?” The cadet Grace had just crashed into asked, forcefully pulling Grace out from under Wrecker, “Are you trying to hurt this cadet- uhh, what are you?”

 “Let me go!” Grace hissed, pulling her arm out of this cadet’s grip as Wrecker finally got to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his food-stained clothes, “Let me go! We need to-”

 “I found them!” A food-covered cadet yelled, but he also skidded to a stop when he spotted the clone Grace had run into, “Who are you?”

 “I’m asking the questions here.” The cadet puffed out his chest and glared at the slightly taller clone he was facing, “Leave these two alone and go clean off, soldier.”

 “Yeah, or what?” The cadet stalked forward, the hoard of other food-stained cadets finally catching up and seeing this standoff, “What are you going to do, baby Blue?”

 “I’ll report you to the kaminoans.” The mystery clone growled, his eyes narrowed, “You think your big tough guy attitude is going to survive reconditioning? Well, it’s a good thing that there’s nothing between your ears to begin with.”

 The food-covered cadet took a step back, nodding and pushing through the group of cadets behind him, leading a long quiet procession back to the scene of the crime.

 Grace blinked, turning to thank the cadet, but she closed her mouth when she caught his glare.

 “Explain.”

“I started a food fight because somebody called me a pipsqueak, which originally happened because I was trying to use words to make him back off instead of violence, but it kinda backfired, so we decided to take off and leave the other cadets to clean up the mess- are you going to turn us over to the kaminoans for reconn?” Grace gulped.

 “We have more than a bad attitude between our ears.” Wrecker said nervously, as if it would help their case. Grace knew he had to be fiddling with the ragged edge of his tunic, since it was something he did when faced with authority of any kind.

 “Well… as far as I heard, you were simply defending yourselves. Your reputation was at stake, and the only ones in the wrong are them.” The cadet shrugged.

 Grace and Wrecker both deflated in relief, thankful that this mystery clone had not only helped them, but was also actively going to cover for them.

 Maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

This cadet had some kind of air about him that set him apart from the other cadets, and his hair was long, much longer than regulation commonly allowed, and his eyes were kind of golden, brighter than Wrecker’s but less green than Grace’s.

 He was a little different.

Like them.

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” The cadet asked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

 Grace grinned and shared a look with Wrecker, knowing he was probably thinking the same thing.

 “You’re defective!” She said cheerfully.

“Yeah, so?” The cadet’s crossed arms tightened over his chest and he looked ready to bolt.

 “You’re like us!” Wrecker laughed, “Like how I’m big enough to be an older Tween and super strong and really hard to hurt in sims-”

 “And like how I’m a girl!” Grace finished, “Do you come from batch 99 too?”

The cadet’s eyes narrowed, his face locking and hiding any emotion.

 “And if I was?”

“Well, that’d be cool, and I would ask your name if you have one and your number if you didn’t and then I'd ask if your squad was treating you well and formally invited you to join us if they weren’t.” Grace smiled, Wrecker nodding enthusiastically, “Hypothetically of course.”

 “I’m Hunter. CT-9901.” The cadet said, his face still betraying no emotion.

“Cool,” Wrecker nodded, “And your squad?”

 Hunter’s face finally fell and Grace shot a quick look at Wrecker.

“I don’t have a set squad yet. I keep getting moved so that I can find the ‘best fit’.” Hunter sighed, “They boys don’t like me.”

 “You can transfer to us.” Wrecker said, “We’ll even do the forms so that you don’t have to.”

 “I thought you guys were lying about that.” Hunter said, “you have to be lying.”

“We’re not.” Grace reassured him, “Wrecker was even right about the paperwork, although It'd have to do it because he can’t read well yet.”

 “I’m working on it.” Wrecker said defensively.

“Who else is with you?” Hunter asked, “Surely you’ll have to ask them about me?”

 “It’s just us two.” Grace said, “We got placed a couple days ago, so they’ll definitely let you join, since it’s kind of not good that there’s just us. We have extra bunks for you to choose from!”

 “How did they let you do that?” Hunter asked, tapping his chin as he thought.

“I got a medic apprentice to help.” Wrecker said, “So, what’s your answer?”

 “You know what?” Hunter grinned, the hallway lights making his eyes sparkle, “Sure.”

~<*>~

Wrecker and Grace were weird.

 Not that Hunter was complaining. It was a good kind of weird that made him want to smile every time he thought about it.

 They had accepted him, even when he was closed off to try to protect himself from more disappointment, or when he had to cover his ears to stop the sounds from melting his brain.

 They listened to his leadership during simulations, which was a first, and they gave him interesting ideas that would actually work.

 “Hunter, why do you think they made us?” Grace asked, plopping herself down on his bunk where he had been half-heartedly reading a regulation manual.

 “No clue.” He answered, looking up at her. She had a thoughtful look on her face, like this was an actual problem.

 “I only wonder because there’s no war to be fought that needs us to be soldiers in, but the kaminoans are making an army for a reason, so why would they make us?” She was tapping her chin, similar to Hunter when he was thinking.

 A rush of fondness nearly brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away.

Grace sighed and pulled her knees to her chest.

 “What’s wrong?” He asked, putting the reg manual aside and sitting up.

“Are you happy here?” She asked, looking at him with wide, sad eyes.

 Hunter gave her a small smile, “Of course I am. You and Wrecker have done amazing at making this squad feel like home.”

 Grace nodded, scooting closer so that she could flop across his legs.

“Why do you cover your ears and shiver really hard sometimes?” She asked, her voice quiet and almost hidden by Wrecker’s loud snores.

 “Uh…” Hunter wasn’t sure how to answer that. He knew he'd have to address it with them soon, but now?

 “Please, if it’s something we can help with, we want to help, and if it’s something that’ll get you hurt while we’re fighting, we need to know.” Grace said, looking up at him from her position on her back.

 Hunter sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, untangling the snarls.

“Well, we’re defective, right?”

 She nodded.

“My differences are more than just long hair.” He said, “My eyes and ears work differently too. I can see better, and hear better, and I’ve heard the kaminoans talking about electromagnetic frequencies. Whatever that means.”

 Grace giggled and closed her eyes.

“Well, whatever it is, sometimes seeing and hearing and feeling gets too much and it hurts my head and makes my muscles all sore-”

 Grace’s eyes shot open and she leapt off his bed, walking to her footlocker like she was on a mission.

 “What-” Hunter said, startled by her sudden movement. 

The cadet got to her feet after a couple long seconds of frantic digging, holding what looked like a huge blanket and aviation practice earmuffs.

 She dumped them in Hunter’s lap.

“What is this?” He asked, picking up the earmuffs and feeling that they were much heavier than normal. The blanket was too.

 “Those are sound-negating ear covers.” Grace grinned, “and the blanket is weighted. I made them a while back because I wanted to cancel out my old squadmates’ snores and all that. If hearing too much is a problem, that might help.”

 “What’s the story behind the blanket?” Hunter asked, moving the stuff so that Grace could lay back down on his legs.

 “I read somewhere that heavy things can help you feel less alone, so I made it.” Grace sighed, “it’s got thin sheets of rubber sewn between three layers of fabric. I was thinking that the rubber might be able to help with the electricity.”

 Hunter wasn’t sure that’s exactly how it worked, and he also wasn’t sure where she had gotten the materials or the knowledge to sew this together.

 Not that he was going to tell her any of that.

“Thank you.” He said quietly. Grace smiled up at him, patting his hand.

 “Of course ori’vod, I don’t like that you’ve been in pain for a long time, and if I can change that I’ll try.” She said, closing her eyes again as she started to fall asleep again.

 Hunter continued running a hand through her hair, his heart lighter and his eyes slightly wet from unshed tears.

 He would die for her. Really, he would die for both Wrecker and Grace, his vod’ika, and he knew that they would do the same for him.

 This was the kind of unity that he had been missing from his previous squads.

That unity was incredibly important, especially on the battlefield, but sometimes it felt like they simply couldn’t work together.

 Like today, during a squad sim about a week after Hunter had joined the budding squad 99.

The mission parameters were to provide backup to a struggling group of ‘soldiers’, that were simply dummy droids painted a different color, who had been pinned down by a group of the normally unpainted dummy droids.

 It wasn’t going well.

Maybe it was because they were being watched, or maybe they weren’t communicating the right way, but it wasn’t going well.

 They were pinned down now too, and were nowhere near the group they were supposed to be helping.

 And to make matters worse, Grace got hit by a stunner. It wasn’t fatal, or something that hadn’t happened before, but it wasn’t helping.

 “Wecker!” Hunter shouted, catching the bigger cadet’s attention. Wrecker glanced over and saw Grace on the ground at Hunter’s feet and nodded.

 He broke off his attack and scooped the smaller clone up and ran for cover, Hunter guarding his back as they moved.

 They ducked behind a barrier further away from the main part of the firefight, but as they did the intercom above them crackled to life, making Hunter wince.

 ‘We request assistance, we’re about to be overrun! Are you enroute?’

“What do we do?” Wrecker cried, propping Grace up against the barrier and checking to make sure she hadn’t hit her head when she fell, “We have to complete the mission, but Grace is down and we can’t leave ‘er here!”

 “I know.” Hunter frowned under his bucket, his mind racing as he leaned out to shoot at a couple straggling droids that had decided to come after them.

 “I can only bust through some of ‘em, and that’s too much for ‘some’!” Wrecker said.

“I know Wrecker!” Hunter shouted, “Grace is the only one that can go unnoticed, but I think I can-”

 “You gonna run ahead?” Wrecker asked, “How?”

“Well, we start by getting Grace to a safer spot.” Hunter looked around before spotting a kind of cave-like structure made from whatever metal the rest of the training ground was made from, “There.”

 Wrecker nodded and they ran for it, stashing Grace under as she started to wake up, blinking slowly at them with a grimace on her face.

 “Now what?” Wrecker asked, following Hunter as he started to run into the throngs of dummy droids that had taken notice of them.

 “You run that way and I run into the squad to attempt to help them out while you get all the dummy droids’ attention.” Hunter panted.

 Wecker nodded and they split, Hunter running through the gap he had spotted, stabbing droids here and there with the vibroblade he had stolen from the armory a month or so before, while Wrecker ran the opposite way, roaring and yelling every insult he knew at the droids.

 Hunter’s plan seemed to be working, and he reached the painted dummy droids in minutes.

 “This way, you have to retreat!” He said.

The intercom buzzed.

 ‘Mission parameters are to defeat the enemy entirely.’ 

Hunter grumbled.

 “Alright then, we attack the back of that mob, let’s go!”

He turned on his heel and went the way Wrecker had, slashing at each droid that hadn’t been gunned down until there were none left.

 Wrecker was rubbing his uncovered head as he leaned against the wall.

“Wrecker, what hurts?” Hunter asked, taking the taller cadet’s head in his and looking into his eyes.

 “Got hit with a stunner, but I’m fine. Just a little headache.” Wrecker smiled sheepishly.

“Let’s go check on Grace.” Hunter sighed as the intercom sounded for the third time.

 ‘Mission success, please exit the training area. Return all weapons to the lockers before going to the next scheduled activity.’

 They collected Grace, who was slightly wobbly on her feet but getting better every minute, and headed to the mess.

 “Sorry for getting stunned.” Grace said as they got their food and went to sit at their table.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Hunter reassured her, “Things happen and we have to learn how to work with it.”

 “I just hate getting stunned.” She sighed, picking at her soup as Wrecker snuck chunks of her bread, “I get huge headaches afterwards and it just sucks.”

 “Imagine how Hunter feels.” Wrecker said wisely. Hunter felt his face get red as he remembered the embarrassingly feeble cry of pain he had let out when he had woken up from his most recent stunner with a raging headache. 

 “Yeah, you have it bad, my man,” Grace sighed, reaching out to pat Hunter’s hand, “We should wrap you in blankets.”

 “We aren’t even supposed to have blankets.” Hunter laughed, rolling his eyes at her, “I don’t think the kaminoans would appreciate it.”

 “Sucks for them then.” Grace huffed.

“Don’t let them hear you say that.” Wrecker said, poking Grace’s side as she took a big bite of soup, making her choke on it as she tried to stifle a squeak.

 “Wrecker!” Hunter groaned as he pulled out the handkerchief he had stolen from a mandalorian handler he had passed in the halls once, “Don’t tickle her while she’s eating, we’ve been over this.”

 “Sorry Hunter,” Wrecker said sheepishly as Grace coughed into the handkerchief, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Grace said, her voice raspy as she waved Hunter away when he went to fuss over her, “Got away you worry wart, I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine, I’m just making sure.” Hunter countered, grinning at her glaring face, “And it’s time to head back, we’re attracting too much attention.”

They fled the mess before the other cadet squads could target them, and it was a reason why Hunter didn’t like having any of his team eating alone.

But it couldn’t always be helped, especially when they each had their own training schedules that didn’t always match up.

 Hunter sighed as he rubbed his eyes, slowly making his way through his tray as he read through leadership manuals and battle tactics on his datapad.

 The past couple of weeks had been smooth, and he felt like he had finally settled in with Wrecker and Grace, who hadn't been able to take midday meals with him for the last couple of days.

 Grace had been scheduled for individual undercover training with her handler that made Hunter’s hair stand on end, and wouldn't be done for hours yet.

 Wrecker was in physical therapy for the cramps that he had been stoically bearing all week, and would most likely come back sore but more relaxed than he had been before.

 So Hunter had to eat alone today, not that he was necessarily complaining. He needed peace and quiet to finally make it through this manual.

 He would have done it in the barracks, but Grace had a scary talent at sniffing out whether or not Hunter ate that day or not and they didn’t have anything left in their stash.

 By this rate, the mess hall would be close to closing when he finished, and he liked it like that.

 “Will you shut the kark up?” The loud shout broke the quiet hubbub of the mostly empty mess, and Hunter almost dropped his datapad out of surprise.

 There was a full squad a couple tables away, and Hunter could easily see a cadet angrily glaring at his squadmate across the table, the poor guy looking like he had been forced to swallow something sour. 

He had large corrective lenses over his eyes, making them look bigger and sadder. Hunter wasn’t sure if he had ever seen a cadet with glasses like that before.

 He sighed, wanting to ignore the squad, deciding that it was probably something he didn’t need to get involved in. 

 Not his squad, not his problem.

“Maybe if you actually listened to him, you’d be able to pass a sim without getting most of the squad stunned.” That voice was one of a cadet, but was kind of snake-like.

 “Crosshair, let it be.” The clone that had originally gotten yelled at, muttered. Hunter only heard him because of his advanced senses.

 “I will not ‘let it be’!” The snake-voiced cadet, whose name turned out to be Crosshair, yelled, slamming his fist into the table.

 The mess hall completely cleared out, leaving Hunter and this loud squad alone.

Why wasn’t he leaving like a smart cadet? The doors were nearby and all he had to do was get up and leave.

 “Crosshair-”

“I am sick of this! You’ve been abusing him since before I joined, you ignore him when he’s trying to help you, you don’t even help him when he gets stunned in sims,” Crosshair shouted, “He’s your brother but you don’t karking act like it!”

 Hunter winced.

He knew how it felt, being pushed aside while instinctively knowing he was supposed to be doing more than following stupid orders of inexperienced cadets that didn’t even want to pick up a manual on tactics.

 Not all of them were like that, but it seemed like all the ones Hunter ended up with certainly were. 

 He could still leave before anything worse than a couple angry words were thrown around, but he felt stuck in his seat, reliving every previous squad.

 The arguing was getting louder.

“You’ve only been in this squad for a few cycles, what makes you think you know anything! You’re just a reject!”

 “Yeah, CT-9903’s been with us for years and he hasn’t tattled on us about any of that!”

“He did not need me to say anything.” The clone with the glasses said, his voice ringing out over the other cadet’s voices, “Not everybody is as blind as the kaminoans.”

 Silence fell and Hunter knew that silence of any kind was the most dangerous sound.

If he was going to step in, now was the time.

 “Is there a problem here?” He asked, startling the group, who each looked around to find that they were alone now.

 “What do you think?” That was the voice of the cadet that had shouted first.

“That may have been a rhetorical question, not that I care.” Hunter glared at the clone, who was just a little taller than him.

 “We can defend ourselves.” Crosshair growled, and Hunter raised an eyebrow at the silver-haired cadet. He was tall and skinny, and he didn’t look like he could pack much of a punch.

 Then again, Grace didn’t look like it either and her punches hurt.

“Yeah, this isn’t your squad, so it isn’t your problem.” The instigator hissed, “So beat it.”

 Hunter did his best to look unimpressed, but the cadet was right. He didn’t have a right in stopping anything the squad did unless…

 “Actually, my team is incomplete.” Hunter said with a bored look, “And since I noticed your unsanctioned behavior against these men, I think I’ll put in emergency reassignment requests.”

 “You can’t do that.” The cadet scoffed, but Hunter could see a spark of fear in his eyes. No clone wanted to lose the familiarity of their brothers, even ones that they mistreated. 

 “Do you really believe that?” Hunter asked.

The cadet seemed to be wavering, trying to tell if Hunter was serious or not.

 It was a tense standoff as the two of them glared at each other, ended by a kaminoan telling them that the mess hall was now closed and that they needed to leave.

 The cadet that had stood against Hunter frowned and backed down, taking his squad, save for CT-9903 and Crosshair, and left.

 “You have no obligation to us, thus no reason to provide us aid.” CT-9903 hummed, continuing to eat his food even though they really should be moving. 

 “I didn't feel like sitting back and letting them yell anymore. It was clear the team would have failed sooner or later anyway.” Hunter shrugged.

 “You can’t be serious.” Crosshair hissed in disbelief, “That can’t be your reasoning, you can’t want us for your squad.”

 Hunter understood why the cadet was so hostile, so unwilling to believe him. He had been like that before, but he also knew that Grace and Wrecker could break any mental barriers by simply being their unrelenting and incredibly kind selves.

 “Well, I have two squamates, and each of us have some kind of defect, similar to you two,” Hunter smiled, much kinder than he had before, “So, I have reasons and I do want you.”

~<*>~

“I still don’t believe you.” Crosshair growled.

The statement was more than true. He had no reason to trust this short cadet, and he didn’t want to.

 “I do.” Tech said, standing with his now empty tray, “I have read Squad 99’s files and I will take your offer.”

 Crosshair turned to glare at him, but he couldn’t deny his twin a chance at an actual squad. One that would actually care for their well being.

 “We have extra racks you could pick from,” The cadet said conversationally, grabbing his own tray to dump and motioning for them to follow him out of the mess hall.

 “I am able to sleep anywhere.” Tech said in his normal monotone, “It is a requirement to have the ability to do so.”

 “Did they make you sleep on the floor?” The cadet asked, wrinkling his nose angrily.

“Like he said,” Crosshair growled, “We can sleep anywhere.”

 He didn’t want this kid digging into what he didn’t need to know.

“Well, now that you’ve made that requirement, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” The clone sighed, “Besides, Grace would kill me if I even thought about it in the first place. She happens to strongly disagree with the things the kaminoans decide are ‘required’.”

 “She?” Crosshair asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t know any cadets that were girls.

“Did you not know? This experimental unit consists of a female clone, and she is being trained for undercover operations.” Tech said, holding up his datapad somewhat triumphantly.

 “Undercover? Like a spy?” Crosshair breathed, narrowing his eyes at Hunter. He believed this guy less and less.

 All the spy trainees were jerks, way too good at lying and getting into other people’s business for his liking.

 “More like sneaking into places to break things than to spy on people,” The cadet told Crosshair before turning to Tech, “And how do you know that?”

 “Experiemental unit 99 has extensive files in the Kaminoan database, and they are very easy to find if you know where to look.” Tech shrugged, “And if you can break through a firewall or two.”

 “Huh, really?” The cadet raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

“Affirmative.” Tech nodded, “Your files, CT-9901, are quite interesting. Are you adequately handling the adverse outcomes of your advanced senses?”

 CT-9901 blinked at Tech and Crosshair subtly shifted to block an attack. He knew from experience that Tech had a habit of getting himself into trouble by saying things that poked at insecurities.

 It was Crosshair’s job to keep Tech safe.

“I handle it… well? I guess?” CT-9901 shrugged, “and my name’s Hunter. Grace is FCT-9905, and my third squadmate is Wrecker, CT-9902. And you two are Crosshair and Tech?”

 “Affirmative. My designation is CT-9903, but my name is Tech.” Tech said, bowing his head slightly.

 Hunter looked at Crosshair expectantly.

“Yep. Crosshair, CT-9904.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes and biting his cheek.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Crosshair, Tech.” Hunter stopped at a random door, pressing a button to open it, “Here we are.”

 He stepped inside, and the two cadets followed.

Crosshair was… a little impressed with it.

 It was different from the standard wall of pods that he was used to, with the racks open and cut into the walls of the space.

 It was dark too, only lit by tiny yellow lights that didn’t hurt his eyes, which was a stark contrast to the bright white of the hall outside. It was warm too, a janky little space heater rattling in the corner.

 Where they got that, he would love to know. 

All in all, it was an odd barracks, but you could see the personalities of the cadets that lived here.

 Out of the bunks in the room, only three looked like they were slept in.

Two of them were messy, and one of them was neatly made. All three had an alarming amount of contraband blankets, but considering the rest of the room, it was probably the smallest rule broken.

 Hunter made his way to the neatly made bed, flopping down on it with a sigh.

“Welcome to the Squad 99 barracks.” Hunter smiled.

 “Where are the other two?” Crosshair asked, still standing in the doorway, unwilling to step further into the room.

 “Wrecker’s in PT and Grace is in individual skill work” Hunter sat up and sighed, “But they were supposed to be done ten minutes ago. At least, Wrecker was. I don't know when Grace gets done.”

 There was a faint note of worry in Hunter’s voice, but it was well hidden.

“I could hack into the city’s camera array to find them.” Tech offered.

 Hunter sighed and nodded. 

Crosshair finally stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind him. In the few cycles he had been with his previous squad, he had only seen Tech offer his help once. It had not gone well for Tech.

 “Do you have a port I could plug into?” Tech asked, pulling wires out of his toolbelt’s pockets and attaching them to his datapad.

 “Yeah, by the door,” Hunter said, pointing to the panel next to the door, “I would raise them over comms, but we really aren’t supposed to have them.”

 “And? You should make them carry them anyway.” Crosshair said, sitting on an unoccupied bunk and running a hand over the standard sheets while imagining finally being warm under the mountains of blankets these cadets seem to have.

 “I don’t want them getting in trouble. Well, more trouble than normal,” Hunter sighed, “There’s only so much we can get away with before we could be slated for reconn.”

 “We’re special cases, you shouldn’t have to worry about the rules,” Crosshair scoffed.

“We aren’t that special, Crosshair. The CCs are similar to us and I don’t doubt that you’ve heard the stories of what happened to a lot of them.” Hunter argued, throwing a slight glare at the silver-haired cadet.

 “I have found your fellow squadmembers.” Tech spoke up, interrupting the argument to come.

 Hunter went to his side and leaned over his shoulder, looking at the pad with a hand on Tech’s shoulder. Tech flinched slightly and Hunter quickly let go and leaned away a little.

 “They are walking back at the moment.” Tech said, like nothing happened.

“How close are they?” Hunter asked.

 “They’re right there.” Tech said, pointing to the door as it opened.

One of the cadet’s blooming laughs filled the room and Crosshair rolled his eyes, leaning back in his bunk to give himself space away from the sound. He caught the quick glance that Hunter gave him before going to confront the two cadets.

 “What took you so long to get back?” Hunter demanded, crossing his arms and looking like the leader he was shaping up to be.

 “We’re very sorry, ori’vod.” Grace said placatingly. Crosshair perked up a little at the mando’a word at the same time Hunter raised an eyebrow.

 “We are, I swear.” Grace sounded more sincere this time, “Wrecker challenged me to a race in the gym and I couldn’t say no!”

 “Who won?” Hunter asked, still frowning, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed that he wasn’t angry, only relieved.

 “Grace did.” Wrecker said, his face falling into a pout. Grace punched his arm and he grinned at her, “It was a fair win though. Unlike last time.”

 “Hang on, why are there two more cadets here than normal?” Grace asked, holding up a hand, who looked like she was finally letting herself get a good look at Crosshair and Tech.

 Crosshair knew she did notice them when she first walked in, but had cleverly disarmed Hunter before bringing attention to them.

 “Wrecker, Grace, this is Tech and Crosshair.” Hunter smiled as Tech got to his feet. The bespectacled clone was shoving the wires back into his pockets.

 “The newest members of Clone Force 99.”

Chapter Text

 Tech had been sitting, alone, without his datapad, for far too long in his very humble opinion.

 He knew that this was a standard aptitude test, used to discern a cadet’s ability to sit and wait for the action.

Tech had a history of failing them. Spectacularly. 

But, he was determined to pass this time.

 His leg was bouncing annoyingly, and his mind was racing past random calculations from his maths lessons earlier that day.

 Tech really wished he had his datapad. He highly doubted that he would be without it on the front lines of wherever he was needed, but he understood the kaminoan’s reasoning.

 He sighed and leaned forward, his elbow pressing into his knee painfully. His leg stilled, but he still felt the need to move.

 How much longer did the kaminoans need him to sit here for?

Tech shook his head, leaning back against the blank wall and tried to focus on something else.

 He had hundreds of projects that needed his attention, mainly focused around his new barracks.

 Hunter had issues with the standard lighting in the room, and while turning them off was a viable solution, the dim nightlights weren’t enough for Wrecker, who couldn't see anything and Tech was getting a little tired of fixing the things he tripped over and broke.

 Tech would need to either rewire the lights or manually switch out the bulbs for something better.

 Grace kept getting huge red rashes from the itchy standard sheets, and her clothes only made the problem worse by trapping sweat close to her skin. She had the same issue with the training armor, and he only knew because he was the one that signed off on the lotion she got from the med-bay.

 Tech could attempt to find suitable fabrics, his research had informed him that there was a certain kind that he could smuggle into the city if he talked to the right trainers, but the real issue was sewing the fabric together.

 He could just focus on getting Grace’s measurements first, but he would need to find the solution to this issue soon. Grace would never complain, but Tech didn’t want her to suffer needlessly.

 Wrecker was going to outgrow his bunk, which was meant to fit a full grown clone, and Tech absolutely did not want him squishing himself into a space too small for him. His muscle cramps were bad enough already.

 Tech would need to take more measurements, and then attempt to predict Wrecker's growth patterns to accommodate future growth spurts. 

 Maybe he could break through one of the walls of the cubicle? It would give Tech the opportunity to use the welder that his handler had shown him the week before.

 He would have to steal it, something Hunter would be proud of while also being not proud of.

 Tech didn’t know how he did that, but it was not his place to know.

Crosshair also had issues with the lights, and while the lack of the blinding white lights in the barracks, that irritated even Tech, was good, the dim nightlights weren’t doing him any favors either. He was straining his eyes and giving himself headaches more and more often. 

Crosshair should probably stop reading in pitch dark though, also in Tech’s most humblest opinion.

Tech made a note to also put an electrical damper over some of the ports in the room, since Hunter had sighed very deeply while staring at the wall panel that held most of the electrical components in the room before Tech had left that morning.

 That cadet had a very interesting way of communicating through sighs and grunts. Yet another mystery of Tech's big brother.

 “CT-9903.” The kaminoan’s slippery voice pulled him out of his thoughts, making him quickly stand at attention, “You have passed this test. You may proceed to your scheduled mid-cycle meal. You must also inform Unit 99 that there will be a practice simulation at 1300.”

 Tech nodded and left, glad to be out of the very underwhelming blank room, his mind slightly preoccupied by the project list that he had created for himself.

“Tech!” Wrecker called as Tech entered the mess hall, “How’d it go?”

Tech took his seat next to the much larger cadet, nodding a quick hello to Grace, and dug into the food he had grabbed.

 “I have finally passed my ‘sit still and be good’ test.” Tech informed them both, receiving a hard slap on the back from Wrecker as a congratulations.

 “That’s not what that test is called and you know it.” Grace raised an eyebrow, “But I’m still proud of you, that's a huge accomplishment!”

 “I was also informed that we are going to have a simulation at 1300.” Tech nodded, letting himself smile a tad at Gracie's praise.

 “It’s 1230 now… Hunter and Crosshair better get back from individuals or they’ll miss it.” Wrecker said wisely, glancing at the chronometer on the wall behind Grace’s head, “They're got thirty minutes.”

 If Tech didn’t know better, he would almost say that Wrecker was worried that the other two would miss it.

 “What are they doing today?” Tech asked, wiping the small splashes of soup from the rim of his bowl.

 “Hunter has that tracking thing and Crosshair’s clocking hours on the shooting range. Did you know that he didn’t spend enough time there already?” Grace wrinkled her nose and passed her bread to Wrecker, who ate it gratefully.

 “We may need to complete this sim without them. They could be there for a while yet.” Tech sighed. They all knew that just one mishap could spell disaster for them, especially in individual training. 

 Unit 99 weren’t very sure where they stood in terms of a battalion, and they could very well never make it there if their enhanced skills didn’t reach the level that the kaminoans wanted.

 Hunter had enhanced senses, which meant he could hear better than any cadet Tech knew, and could see as well as Crosshair on good days.

He could also feel the electric pulses of the organic and inorganic things around him, and find the traces of leftover energy those organic and inorganic things left behind.

 Crosshair had the sharpest eyes of any cadet on Kamino, and could already hit a precise target many klicks away.

 Wrecker had muscle, a lot of it. He could bust through a wall without breaking a sweat and punch a droid so hard that it deactivated and it wouldn't even hurt him. Truly a super power.

 Grace could hide herself in plain view if she kept calm, finding people’s blind spots to startle them or get around them, whatever the situation required.

 Tech himself had enhanced cognitive abilities, his mind working twice as fast as any other cadet’s.

 But it often wasn’t enough for the Kaminoans.

“Look, there’s Cross!” Wrecker’s loud voice broke Tech out of his musings and made him duck out of the way of the larger clone’s waving hand. 

 “My name is Crosshair.” The sniper-in-training glared as he slammed his tray down next to Grace, “Use it.”

The blonde cadet snorted and rolled her eyes, sipping her drink as Wrecker wilted.

“It is simply a nickname.” Tech reassured Crosshair, “Nicknames can have many cruel origins, but Wrecker means well. ‘Cross’ does not come from a cruel place, and can be a cute name if you allow it.”

 “I don’t give a fuck.” Crosshair snorted, stabbing at a chunk of mystery meat with his fork.

“Ooo, new curse word, thanks Cross.” Grace smirked, dodging the hand that would have smacked her upside the head.

 “We have a sim in twenty minutes.” Wrecker reminded them.

“Where’s Hunter?” Crosshair asked. His brow was furrowed slightly, betraying his faint worry.

 Tech now felt a little of that worry. Hunter hated being late, even though he broke other kinds of rules.

 Odd that he was fine with stealing things from others, but was so hung up on such things as punctuality.

 “His individuals probably landed him in medical again.” Grace sighed, “Which means we’re going to be down a man for our sims-”

 “You’re going to give up on him that easily?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head, “We can't just let him miss out on a sim! He has a lot of fun!”

 Yes, Wrecker had priorities. 

“Well, I’m not doing a simulation without everybody.” Grace said, crossing her arms like Hunter did when he made a final decision, “We're already done it enough.”

 “What if we get in trouble?” Wrecker asked. He appeared to be the only one actually using their brain today.

 “Then we get in trouble.” Grace frowned, “We don't leave our own behind, especially when they can be hurt.”

 “That’s gonna be problematic when we're on the battlefield.” Crosshair rolled his eyes, clearly over Grace’s theatrics, “Do you know how heavy your ass is without armor on? What if Wrecker gets hurt or is out of action for any reason? How would we transport him while we continue missions?”

 It appeared that Tech had been wrong, Crosshair and Wrecker were both using their brains. It was just Grave that wasn't.

“Oh shut up.” Grace hissed, getting to her feet. She quickly dumped her tray and walked out of the mess hall.

 “Where do you think you're going?” Crosshair shouted after her as the rest of them also stood and followed the young cadet out.

 “To get Hunter.” Grace said, “And you’ll either help me, or you’ll go back to the barracks and wait for me to get back.”

 “Of course we'll help you.” Wrecker said. Tech nodded and elbowed Crosshair in the side.

“Yeah, we’ll help too.” The sniper-in-training sighed, “But this is still a bad idea.”

 “Tech hasn’t told me to stop.” Grace grinned.

“I am simply watching to see how this plays out.” Tech said in his defense, “and I need to see if Hunter needs medical attention when we find him.”

 They walked in silence for a minute, leaving Tech to fall back into his thoughts.

“Grace, where are we going?” Wrecker asked, looking around unfamiliar halls as the blonde cadet marched on.

 “Hunter’s handler.” Grace answered.

“How do you know where the kaminoan is?” Tech asked.

 “I followed him one time.” Grace smirked, knocking lightly on the door she had just in front of.

 The door opened after a moment and she stepped inside.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” The Kaminaon inside glanced up from his work. His eyes widened as he found himself facing a rather intimidating looking clone squad.

 “CT-9901, where is he?” Grace demanded. Tech knew that she could be very strong-willed when she wanted to be, but he had never seen her this commanding before.

 “The cadet known as CT-9901 is undergoing a procedure-”

“Where?” Grace hissed, interrupting the scientist. Tech was rather surprised. There would most definitely be consequences for that.

 “Down below.” The kaminoan looked mildly startled, no doubt unused to a cadet talking back, “But Unit 99 has a simulation in ten minutes.”

 “We aren’t doing anything without Hunter.” Wrecker spoke up, crossing his arms and glaring with as much intensity as he could muster. Crosshair smirked and leaned against the doorframe.

 Tech would rather not be in this situation so he focused his attention down at his datapad.

“I will lead you to the operating room.” The kaminoan sighed, getting to his feet.

 The squad filled out, following the scientist down another set of unfamiliar halls and into a lift. Tech glanced over at Grace and found that she didn’t know these halls. Maybe could pull up the city’s schematics to find out where they were.

 “Teen-Sol, what is the meaning of this visit? We just sent you an update on your charge.” The assistant that opened the door was not a kaminoan, but rather a droid.

 “CT-9901’s squad has asked for an update on his progress.” The kaminoan's voice sounded tired and Tech felt a little proud that they were the cause.

 “He is still under general anesthesia, and is not predicted to wake up for another ten minutes. We have only just finished.” The droid reported, turning to the cadets to give them the news instead of the kaminoan.

 How thoughtful.

“There. No need to worry. If you make your way back up to the simulation rooms, you may be able to start yours late.” The scientist said as the droid went back into the operating room.

 “No.” Crosshair drawled, beating Grace to it, “We aren’t going anywhere.”

“In battle, you must be able to perform with one less member on your team.” The kaminoan responded, clearly getting more and more irritated with the cadets in front of him.

 This was going to go very wrong if they kept going on like this.

“We're already done sims without Hunter, and Crosshair, and Tech, and Grace!” Wrecker yelled, “We need to work better as a team than individually-"

 “May I propose a compromise?” Tech interrupted, finally glancing up from his datapad.

The kaminoan nodded.

 “You will allow us to wait for our squadmate, and we will make up this simulation when he has recovered from his surgery.” Tech said, “We will not complain or cause you grief in that time, and we will perform to our utmost abilities.”

 “Speak for yourself.” That was most likely Crosshair, but with how Grace was acting, it could be her.

 “I will allow this if every single member of this squad complies.” The scientist sighed, looking satisfied as he left the squad standing in the hallway.

 Grace let out the breath she had been holding and leaned back against the wall. Wrecker sat down heavily next to her with a sigh.

 “Remind me never to go on a power trip again.” Grace muttered, rubbing her face as her hands shook, “that was unnecessarily scary.”

 “I found it rather entertaining, and out of the ordinary for your personality.” Tech said, sitting down next to Wrecker and now refocused on his datapad. He was looking through the recording he just made to see what he could show Hunter.

 “Have you been studying me?” Grace asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Affirmative.” Tech hummed, “It helps me interact with you. And each of you happen to be fascinating.”

 “Huh.” She huffed.

“Tech, how long do you think he's going to be in there for?” Crosshair asked, “I don’t want to be standing around forever.”

 “The droid said ten minutes, Crosshair.” Tech rolled his eyes.

“What are you four doing here?”

~<*>~

Hunter raised an eyebrow at his squad, waiting for answers.

 Judging by Grace’s extremely guilty look and rapid heart rate, it was probably something that was going to bite them in the ass later.

 “We didn’t want to do a sim without you.” Grace muttered. The rest of his squad nodded and Tech piped up to explain exactly what had happened.

Hunter sighed, closing his eyes and attempting to control the headache that had been getting worse since he woke up.

 He just wished he could remember what that operation was meant to do…

“So. You broke the very strict rules around attending mandated simulations, harassed my handler and how many other adults… to find me?” Hunter summarized, quelling his nausea as his headache spiked at the vibrations of his own voice.

 Seriously, what did that procedure do?

“Pretty much.” Crosshair shrugged, “I agreed with Grace’s reasoning. And Tech didn’t try to stop us.”

 Hunter furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Tech, who looked vaguely guilty.

“Uh… Hunter? Are you… good?” Wrecker asked, slowly getting to his feet after a moment of silence between the five cadets.

 Hunter nodded, but the movement of his head set him off balance and he started to tip forward.

 “Woah, Hunter-” Wrecker reached out to grab Hunter's arm, but the touch made Hunter's head feel like it was splitting open and he reeled back, tripping over his own feet as everything ticked up a notch.

 The lights in the hallway brightened, blinding him and stabbing his eyes, and every heartbeat and movement his squad made became so loud that it filled his head and his ears started ringing.

 He could smell their concern and their fear and the sharp tang of the antiseptic in the bacta over the incision hidden by his hair. 

He could smell every being that had been down this hallway within the past week, and he could feel the leftover vibrations rattling around his skull.

 And his senses stretched far past the hallway too, and out into the city beyond, and further than that was the vast, deep, ocean that was filled with moving things-

 It was too much, it hurt, his squad’s voices were coming to him in short piercing moments that he struggled to catch, and even as he tried to pull himself together the pain was tearing his head apart piece by piece-

 A heavy silence settled over him, a gentle pressure over his head, and a weight rested over his shoulders, solid and warm, and finally not too much.

 Hunter cracked open an eye, finding the lights off and the barracks empty. 

It was a little deadzone.

 “Thanks.” He breathed, the pounding in his head picking up with the vibrations of his voice, even if he couldn't actually hear it.

 ‘You are w-e-l-c-o-m-e.’ Tech signed clumsily, his face coming into view through the dark, ‘G-r-a-c-e said this helps when you are s-t-r-e-s-s-e-d.’

 “Did she?” Hunter asked.

'Yes. But s-t-r-e-s-s-e-d does not explain what just h-a-p-p-e-n-e-d.’ Tech signed, ‘Do you know what that s-u-r-g-e-r-y was about?’

 “I can’t remember-” Hunter screwed his eye shut, trying to think back to before he woke up from the heavy darkness, “I think I missed something during training-”

 His eyes shot open as more weight pressed down his shoulder.

‘You don’t have to r-e-m-e-m-b-e-r.’ Tech signed, ‘Just take it easy.’

 “Where are the others?” 

‘I sent them out into the hall.’ Tech rolled his eyes, ‘They are too l-o-u-d.’

 Hunter could feel their heartbeats now, and it made him feel a little better to know where they were, that they were safe.

 He tried to pull his senses back to himself, to ignore the pulses coming from all around the city. Usually this was easy, usually he could do it and get back to what he needed to do-

 ‘H-u-n-t-e-r.’

Tech's hands brought Hunter out of his head, making him blink tears of pain away.

 'Can I r-e-m-o-v-e the ear c-o-v-e-r-s?’

Hunter didn’t know if he was up to it, but he knew that Tech was reaching for signs and that he needed to get over this… this problem.

 So he nodded and Tech reached over, pulling them off.

The sounds slowly filtered back into his head, and it wasn’t too much.

 “Hunter.” Tech's almost silent voice made him look up.

“Hunter, can you take these?” Tech held out a couple of small tablets, “One is an antidepressant for nerve pain and an anti-seizure medication to calm overactive nerves. They may not help completely, but it’s the best we can do.”

 “I have a headache too.” Hunter muttered, taking the pills with the glass of water Tech offered, “a really bad one.”

 “I don’t know if I should give you migraine medication with what you're already taken…” Tech said, “And I should let the others back in before they get themselves decommissioned. Can you handle them?”

 “Y-yeah-” Hunter hummed, tamping down a wince at the crack in his voice.

“I will inform them. I will also inform them to keep their voices down.” Tech whispered, getting up and leaving Hunter alone.

 He relaxed into his bunk, ignoring his sore muscles and aching head, and dropping off into fitful sleep.

 They were all careful with him for the next week, quietly tiptoeing around, and Hunter found it rather odd that they didn't have any group sims, or even any individual training.

 Hunter would have cared about that, would have scoffed and fought them off if he hadn't felt fragile, like uncured plexiglass. 

 Tech said it all was a side effect of the medication, and Hunter was determined to not let it be a problem and it was starting to be less and less of one as the days passed.

 The real issue came with mealtimes. Hunter wasn’t up to dealing with the volume that the mess hall could get too, wasn’t ready to deal with the other cadets.

 “We could wait until it empties out.” Grace offered.

“It's never completely empty, even right before it closes.” Crosshair argued.

 “We could sneak in, grab something, and come back here.” Wrecker offered, his voice low in an almost uncharacteristic whisper.

 “It… would be good training for me.” Grace shrugged, “And we could let Tech loose on the wiring. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to have a momentary city-wide blackout.”

 Tech looked up from his project, blinking at her.

“There are many defensive operations that the city has for itself, and if I ‘accidentally’ shut it off, we would not have a city anymore.” Tech said, tapping a small wrench against the bolts he had been tightening, “And I am offended that you think I would mess up my job that badly.”

 “One of us should stay behind to keep an eye on Hunter in case something happens.” Wrecker said.

 “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Hunter sighed, pushing himself up into a sitting position in his bunk, “I can take care of myself.”

 “It is inadvisable to leave you here alone. A vast number of things could happen and you would be nearly defenseless.” Tech argued.

 “I’ll stay.” Crosshair said, “Take Wrecker. He can cause a distraction for Tech to climb into the vents and for Grace to raid the kitchens.”

 “Hm.” Tech nodded, “Let’s go.”

The three cadets filed out, leaving Hunter and Crosshair alone.

 Hunter flopped back into his blankets and closed his eyes, curling in on himself to try to fall back asleep.

 He flinched as Crosshair’s hand pressed into his back, and he glared over his shoulder. 

Crosshair quickly removed his hand, but didn’t apologize, as was his brand.

  The sniper-in-training did sit down at his feet, making the end of Hunter’s bunk sink a little.

 “Will you stop doing that?” Hunter groaned after a minute of uncomfortable silence.

“Doing what?” Crosshair grumbled, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, “You’re going to have to be specific.”

 “Stop chewing on your lip.” Hunter frowned, keeping his eyes shut, “I can hear it. And I can smell your blood. It’s gross and annoying.”

 Crosshair scoffed, but he did stop, instead picking at the hangnails around his nails.

Hunter sighed. 

This would not do.

He got to his feet wordlessly, much to Crosshair’s surprise, and went to his footlocker to start digging around in it.

He spotted what he was looking for and pulled it out, handing it to Crosshair before laying back down.

“What’s this?” Crosshair sounded cautious as he turned the silver canister over in his hands. He twisted the top off and let out another sound of confusion.

“Toothpicks.” Hunter mumbled, “To chew on. So you stop hurting yourself.”

Crosshair fished out one of the small wooden sticks and set it between his teeth.

 “If anything I could use these to hurt myself more.” Crosshair huffed, “They’re sharp.”

“Don't make me report you to medical.” Hunter teased gently, putting his arm over his face. His headache was back again, even if he hadn't moved that much.

 He really wished he knew what was going on, and he wished even more that he could fix it.

 “If this all doesn't get better, we might have to take you to medical.” Crosshair said. Hunter knew that. He had heard the others talking about it when they thought he wasn’t listening.

 “Medical is the reason I’m like this, Cross.” Hunter muttered.

“No, it was the lanky bastard scientist’s fault that you’re like this.” Crosshair hissed, biting down on the toothpick and snapping it, “If we took you to the med-bay, a generation 1 medic apprentice would take care of you, and then he'd know what to do!”

 Hunter gave a non-committal grunt and tried to fall asleep, tracking his vod’ika’s heart rate as he did.

 “Why do you have these?” Crosshair asked, and Hunter grumbled under his breath.

“I was researching ways to manage fidgeting in times when you can’t move,” Hunter sighed, “The toothpicks were the only things I could find, but they won’t work with your bucket on, so I was waiting until I found something better.”

 Crosshair didn’t say anything to that and Hunter was finally able to fall asleep.

~<*>~

Crosshair’s heart warmed as he watched Hunter fall asleep through the dark, his eyes being the only ones really able to do so.

 The long haired cadet cared for all of them for no reason, and it was endearing.

The toothpicks were made of wood, and he had already snapped one, but he was finding that they did help.

 Crosshair ran a finger over the pointy ends of the toothpicks in the canister, and thought back to how much pain Hunter had been in for the past week.

 He had tried to play it off, to shove it aside in favor of protecting the rest of them, but Crosshair could see just how bad it was.

 And it made him hate the kaminoans, made him hate the whole damn system.

The door opened softly, and the light from the hallway spilled inside, momentarily blinding him.

 “He's sleeping.” Crosshair whispered without prompting, knowing Wrecker would probably do something stupid and loud to wake Hunter up.

 “Good Stars.” Grace huffed, “I didn’t notice you.”

“Neither did I.” Tech hummed, “You aren’t fidgeting. How odd.”

 “Don't worry about it.” Crosshair sighed, “Do you have food?”

“Affirmative!” Wrecker grinned, “I got to break a bunch of things and Tech made the lights flicker like one of those horror films!”

 “As you do.” Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“That sounded mean.” Wrecker had a pout in his voice.

 “I’m hungry.” Crosshair hissed back, catching the ration bar the Grace had just tossed at him, “Ugh, did they only have the white ones?”

 “Oh, eat it, you picky tooka.” Grace chuckled, finding her way to Hunter's bunk and settling down at the long haired cadet’s side, “stars know that we don't need a hangry Crosshair.”

 Crosshair was prevented from retaliation by Wrecker scooping him up and tucking him into his side to fall asleep.

 The silver haired cadet tried to fight it, but it was useless. He resigned himself to be the larger cadet’s teddy bear for the night.

 Tech fell asleep under Hunter’s other arm, squishing himself between the oldest cadet and the wall.

 As heat washed over Crosshair’s perpetually cold body he knew that he would die for them all.

 He already knew he would do it for Tech, ever since he found out the cadet was his twin, but he would die for the others now.

 It was rather annoying.

“Cross, stop glaring at the other cadets. They have weights and I don't feel like getting hit over the head with them.” Grace sighed as the two of them worked out in the gym while the others were busy with their own schedules.

 “No.” Crosshair grunted, helping the blonde put away the weights she had been using.

“You're making them nervous, moron.” Grace rolled her eyes, digging her nails into the splotchy red patch that ran down the length of her arm.

 “Stop that.” Crosshair demanded, grabbing her hand before she could draw blood.

“These workout shirts are itchy though!” She whined back, trying to squirm away.

 “Then we should get back so that you can change.” Crosshair said.

Grace nodded and quietly followed him out of the gym.

“That's wrong?” He demanded, moving to the side as a squad of gen 1 cadets marched past.

 “I’m fine, I’m just tired.” Graced huffed, poking Crosshair in the back right where it tickled.

“Stop.” Crosshair hissed, biting down on his toothpick to stop himself from laughing.

 “CT-9904, FCT-9905.” The voice of a kaminoan stopped them in their tracks, “FCT-9905, you have training at this time.”

 Grace sighed and waved goodbye to Crosshair, leaving him standing alone in the hallway.

 He shook his head and walked back to the barracks and picked up his datapad and looked through his notes.

 Crosshair was going to be alone for a while since the rest of them were in training. He had no clue what they were all doing though, or where they all were. Tech was the one with the schematics, not him.

 “How long have you been in here?” Tech asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Crosshair put down his datapad and glanced up at Tech, who was leaning over him to try and read what was on the screen.

 He pushed his twin away, throwing a pillow at him for good measure.

“Do you still want help creating a new wardrobe for Grace?” Tech threatened with an unamused look.

 “No, wait, that’s not fair.” Crosshair pouted as Tech pulled out the specialized fabric that they had bullied Hunter into smuggling into Topeka City.

 “Life isn’t fair.” Tech said wisely, grabbing the templates that Crosshair had drawn up a couple days before.

 Crosshair scoffed and grabbed the pincushion from his footlocker and got to work.

It was tedious work and after a while his eyes started to hurt from staring at the tiny stitches that he was determined to make perfect.

 By the time Hunter and Wrecker got back, Tech and Crosshair had finished enough clothing to last Grace a little while before she needed more.

 “What have you two been up to?” Hunter asked, an icepack pressed to his head.

“Headache?” Tech asked in return, helping Crosshair neatly set the folded clothes in Grace’s footlocker.

 “Always.” Hunter sighed.

Crosshair glanced at Tech. They had been talking about developing some kind of medication to help prevent the severe migraines Hunter constantly got.

 But until then, Hunter would just have to deal with it.

“Can I see Grace’s clothes?” Wrecker asked, lifting the lid of the locker to look inside. Crosshair snapped the lid closed, almost on the bigger cadet’s fingers.

 "Don't touch what’s not yours.” He said.

“Sorry.” Wrecker grinned, reaching over to ruffled Crosshair’s silver hair. The sniper-in-training bared his teeth and swatted the other cadet away.

 “Enough boys.” Hunter mumbled, his tired voice muffled by the pillow he was currently face down on, “If you're bored, you can read the reg manuals.”

 “Noooo, not the manuals!” Wrecker wailed, shooting a pitiful look at Hunter, even though the cadet wouldn't see it.

 “We might not even be in whatever war we’re preparing for, why would I torture myself with that osik.” Crosshair scoffed, for once agreeing with the older clone.

 “You need to read the regulation manuals to pass the exams that will guarantee you a graduation.” Tech piped up, saving Hunter from having to say anything else.

 “Yeah, but that’s so far away!” Wrecker cried, still pouting.

“Well, in that case, pray to the stars that we karking make it.” Hunter snapped, glaring at them all, clearly sick of their bickering.

 Crosshair raised an eyebrow because Hunter wasn’t one to snap at any of them, even when they were being particularly annoying.

 He was probably just tired, like Grace.

The silver haired cadet shrugged and picked up his datapad, settling in to keep reading where he had last left off.

 The door swooshed open and Crosshair glanced up, spotted Grace, and went back to reading, not necessarily comprehending what he was seeing.

 He looked back up again, his eyes widening at the state of her.

“Grace!” 

 They all crowded around her in moments as she staggered, falling into Crosshair’s arms with a quiet groan.

 “We need to get her to a med-bay.” Wrecker’s eyes were as wide as saucers, taking in the amount of blood soaking the blonde’s clothes.

 “N-no-” Grace muttered, trying feebly to push herself out of Crosshair’s arms, “I-i’m f-f-fine-”

 Crosshair felt like he was choking on his hammering heart, but forced it all down in favor of laying Grace gently on the ground, holding her head in his lap as she breathed shallowly.

 “Tech, find what’s wrong with her.” Hunter ordered.

“I am working on it.” Tech bit out, waving his barely functioning med-scanner over Grace's body.

 “Grace, what happened?” Crosshair asked gently.

“T-training.” She said, taking another pained breath as Tech started cleaning the more heavily bleeding gashes.

 “What?” Crosshair asked. His mind was reeling, and he felt so fucking useless, and Tech hardly knew what the kark he was doing.

 “Tech, sitrep.” Hunter demanded. He had been blocking the door to stop Wrecker from going out to find somebody to beat up.

 “She had multiple lacerations to her torso and arms, and has signs of a broken leg being healed as recently as half an hour ago.” Tech’s brows furrowed, “And she has a large amount of truth serum in her bloodstream.”

 “Grace, we need to take you to the med-bay, at least to get the antidote for the serum.” Hunter said, finally managing to pull Wrecker away from the door and kneeling at Crosshair's side.

 “N-no-! I- can’t.” Grace cried, her tears more from fear than the pain of Tech's somewhat rough treatment of her injuries.

 “Why the kriff not?” Tech frowned, surprising them all. Tech didn’t swear unless he was really emotional about a situation.

 “I'll fail.” Grace tried again to take a deep breath to calm herself down, but it didn’t work.

“Fail what?” Hunter asked.

 “The test.” Grace said, “They s-s-said that I can’t go to the med-bay or they w-won’t train me anymore. I'll be useless!”

 Crosshair was raging to go grab his training rifle and blast a hole through Grace’s handler and trainers.

 But she needed them all here and now, especially since none of them had ever gotten this hurt before.

 There was just so much blood…

“Grace, I am going to administer some painkillers.” Tech said, and she nodded. He administered the hypo and Grace relaxed a tiny amount.

 “Hunter.” Crosshair muttered, making Grace glance up at him slowly, “Hunter, can you grab a tunic and pants from Grace’s footlocker? We should get her changed before we put her on her bunk.”

 Hunter nodded and did as he was told, and Crosshair got Grace changed into her new clothes.

 “These feel nice.” Grace sighed as Wrecker lifted her from the ground and put her in her rack, “Thanks for making these for me guys.”

 “Of course.” Crosshair said softly, sitting down on the ground next to her bunk and leaned against it.

 He did not like seeing any of his vode hurt, and from now on he'd do as much as humanly possible to make sure it doesn't happen again.

 Maybe... he could become a medic?

~<*>~

Grace’s training only really got harder after that first time, but she got far better at resisting the pain, showing less emotion, making her creators proud.

 But she wasn't in training now.

She was studying for her stupid exams.

 Tech kept blabbering on and on about how important this one was, and how that would all pass because they've all taken previous exams like this one.

 But Tech severely underestimated how nervous Grace really was about this exam.

It would graduate them from third year Blues to Tweens, and that meant they would finally be classified as actual ‘troopers in training’ instead of just ‘cadets’.

 “Grace, can you go keep Wrecker occupied?” Hunter asked, breaking the quiet study hall atmosphere.

 “It’s Tech's turn.” Grace said, not bothering to look up from the passage she was reading, “Besides, he already knows all this osik by heart. It’s not like he needs to study.”

 “He doesn’t, but he has other scheduled things today.” Hunter hissed, “And you know that Wrecker needs help studying.”

 Grace sighed.

She knew all about it. She had been helping him for the last month, and nothing she did could help him get any better.

 It was a timed test, and while Wrecker could do pretty much everything on the exams, he often needed about thirty more minutes than everybody else.

 And that was just enough reason for the kaminoans to kill him.

“Fine.” Grace sighed, shoving her datapad and flimsi notebook into her shoulder bag, “But if you come back to a raging fire in the barracks, you can’t be mad at me.”

 “Mhm.” Hunter hummed. Grace rolled her eyes at her calm leader and left.

“Techie, I have come to set you free!” Grace grinned, loudly announcing her presence to the room.

 “Finally.” Tech said, getting to his feet, “I have a flight simulation in 5 minutes and I cannot afford to miss it.”

 “Good thing Hunter made me come back.” Grace snorted, unpacking her datapad and sitting down next to Wrecker on his bunk where the older cadet had been sitting with his head in his hands, “There's Cross?”

 “Shooting range.” Wrecker muttered, making alarm bells go off in Grace's head.

In the months that she’d known Wrecker, he never muttered.

 “We also have a squad sim at 2100, it is best we are all prepared by at least 2030.” Tech said as he left.

 “That’s pretty late.” Grace hummed, leaning against Wrecker’s shoulder, “That's wrong, big guy?”

 “I’m not going to pass this exam.”

Grace’s heart stopped. Sure, she had had her doubts, but Wrecker was optimistic to a fault! He hardly believed that he could do any worse than any regular cadet, so why would this be any different?

 “W-What?”

“You know as well as the rest of them,” Wrecker sighed, his hands still over his face, “I’m too slow. I’m gonna fail and they’ll decomm me.”

 “No.” Grace gritted her teeth and balled her fists into her shirt to stop them from shaking.

“You can’t deny it.” Wrecker said sadly.

 “No. You’re too valuable!” Grace said frantically, “We-”

“Almost any cadet in my course can do what I can, Gracie. They don't need me. You don't need me. I'll only slow you down.”

 Grace was a little scared now. Did somebody tell Wrecker that he wouldn't do it? Did somebody make him think he was useless?

 “Wecker.” Grace said in a cold voice, grabbing her brother’s hands and pulling them away from his face so that she could look him in the eyes, “Wrecker, pick up your pad. You are going to study until your eyes bleed. You are going to pass this test if I have to get Tech to rig it.”

 “Bu-”

“I do not care. You’re my brother and I’m not giving up on you. I don't know who told you all of this, but they're wrong.” Grace hissed, her eyes narrowed, “You. Will. Pass.”

 “Okay.” Wrecker sighed, his eyes sad and Grace knew that he was just agreeing to get her to stop glaring at him, “okay, I’ll pass.”

 Grace nodded and grabbed Wrecker’s datapad from where it had been abandoned and pulled up their studying material.

 “Now, you really just need to finish all the questions, so it doesn’t completely matter if you get them wrong.” Grace explained, pointing to the paragraph on the grading, “If it takes you more than a minute to figure it out, skip it or guess.”

 Wrecker nodded.

By the time the others had gotten back and were getting ready for their late night sim, Wrecker’s confidence had skyrocketed.

“So. What did you all accomplish today?” Tech asked conversationally.

“Tech, we are in the middle of something here.” Hunter panted, trying to shoot down the dummy droids with the punny practice blasters before giving up and tossing the stupid machine right at the center mass of the droid that had been advancing on him, “Something that isn’t going great.”

Grace bit her lip and handed Hunter the extra blaster she had stuffed into the belt of her practice gear for this instance. Hunter gave her a grateful smile as he took it.

‘I didn’t do too much.’ Crosshair said over the comms, which was really just the overhead speaker system, ‘Target practice and a bit of studying. I did eat something, so you can't be mad at me about that Grace. And the heater broke again, you’ll have to fix that, Tech.’

 “I'll get on it as soon as we’re done here.” Tech rolled his eyes and glared at Wrecker who had just pushed him down out of the way of multiple stunners aimed right at him.

 “Hunter, I have an idea.” Grace said, diving down behind the blockade that Hunter had taken, peaking around it to shoot at a couple droids that refused to go down.

 “I’m listening.” Hunter grunted, throwing his vibroblade expertly. He certainly was into throwing things today.

 “I could go undercover, head to the central computer, shut it down, and we’re done.” Grace said, readjusting the ill-fitting bucket on her head.

 “Do you think you can do it?” Hunter asked, glancing down at her.

Grace nodded.

 “Go ahead.” he said, “Cross, lay down cover fire, Grace is going undercover.”

‘Affirmative.’ Crosshair answered through the comms and Grace grinned.

 She took a deep breath to calm her heart rate, thinking invisible thoughts. Those didn't really play a part, but it was part of the principle.

 Once she felt calm enough, she stood and Hunter didn’t react, meaning it had worked.

She carefully avoided the droids Crosshair and the others had taken down, walking slowly and calmly forward, watching as each droid didn’t register her.

 Soon she was clear of the majority of them and was at the main computer.

“I’m here. Tech, I need those codes.” Grace said.

 'Transferring them now.’ Tech answered.

She smiled as the codes popped up on the display of her comms, and she entered them into the computer.

 Grace yelped in surprise as stunners clacked against the table the computer was a part of, and she shot wildly at the small group of droids that had found her out.

 ‘Grace, How's it going?’ Hunter asked.

“Peachy.” She grunted, quickly hitting enter on the keyboard, sending the codes through the systems and shutting all the droids down just as a blaster was pointed at her head.

 Grace let out a sigh as she made her way back to her squad.

“Good job Gracie!” Wrecker laughed, slapping her back good-naturedly.

 She grinned and followed them out into the locker room where they took care of their armor and mock reports.

 After they had done that, they went to their barracks to crash for the night.

Well, Tech and Crosshair crashed for the night. They fell asleep in the same bunk, which meant that one or both of the twins were anxious.

 Grace rolled her eyes as Hunter snapped a picture, instead settling down in her bunk for a little bit of studying with Wrecker before bed.

 “How’s the studying going?” Hunter asked, leaning over to look at both of their datapads.

“Can we watch a film after the exam?” Wrecker countered, tilting his screen away from the nosy cadet, smirking when Hunter rolled his eyes.

 “Sure, why not?” He shrugged, walking to the refresher to take a shower after being thwarted.

 “You knew he was gonna say yes.” Grace teased, “Now the better question is ‘which one?’”

 “Don’t even start.” Hunter hissed, “wait ‘til the twins are awake and I’m out of the room before you ask dangerous things like that.”

 Wrecker roared with laughter and Grace grinned, both of them ducking the pillow that Crosshair sleepily threw at them.

~<*>~

 Wrecker finally slid off Gracie's bunk and walked quietly back to his own, his datapad getting tucked gently into his bag and himself tucked under his blankets in his new, very comfortable, bunk.

 He tried to bury the anxieties he had in order to sleep, knowing Grace had faith in him, she always did.

 If only the people that made the decisions for them had that same faith in him.

“Wrecker, go to sleep.” Hunter mumbled, his voice almost indistinguishable from Tech's snoring, “you’ll do fine.”

 Wrecker scoffed, but he did as he was told.

The next morning the whole squad skipped breakfast in the mess in favor of eating bland ration bars in the study hall.

 Tech was muttering under his breath as Crosshair squinted at the screen in front of him. Hunter rhythmically tapped his stylus against the table as he read through paragraphs.

 Grace was writing formulas in her notebook and Wrecker was trying to put to use her advice by working through a couple of practice exams the gen 1 clones had made when they took this exam.

 Lunch quickly passed and soon the overhead speakers announced that it was time.

‘All third years taking the advancement assessment, proceed to the exam hall immediately.’

 They wished each other luck as they took their seats, opening their test booklets when they were instructed to do so.

 The test was on flimsi paper, and the stylus was made of simple graphite.

Boring, but practical.

 Wrecker sighed as he read the first question.

It was something about ammo depletion and how to stretch limited supplies until relief could be given.

 The words were swimming on the page and Wecker rubbed his eyes, remembering what Grace had said about ‘a minute or less’. 

 He picked a random answer choice and put a star next to the question, going to the next question and hoping that that one would be easier.

 With ten minutes left, Wrecker finished the test and looked back over his answers, rereading the starred questions and making sure he actually answered everything.

 When all of their booklets were collected they were allowed to leave and Wrecker could finally let out a sigh of relief.

 Thank the stars that it was over now.

“How do you all think you did?” Grace asked, stirring her soup mindlessly. She looked ready to go to bed.

 “I believe that I passed with flying colors.” Tech said, eating his food piece by piece while glaring at Hunter, who had told him to put down his datapad to actually interact with the squad.

 “It was pretty easy when I stopped overthinking it.” Wrecker shrugged.

“You? Overthinking?” Crosshair snorted, “I would think that your problem would be under-thinking things.”

 “Yeah, how did you do?” Wrecker bared his teeth, waving his fork in Crosshair’s face.

“I’ll pass.” Crosshair rolled his eyes, knocking Wrecker’s fork out of his hand.

 “I think, as a celebration, we should watch a film tonight!” Grace grinned. Hunter nodded, thankful that an argument had been prevented between Crosshair and Wrecker.

 “We should watch the one with the lady with long hair that sings to heal things.” Crosshair said immediately.

 “No, the one with the lady having frozen ice powers.” Tech recommended. 

“Of course you'd pick that one.” Crosshair snorted. Tech punched him, making the sniper-in-training spill his drink

 “Ow, bitch-”

“I think Wrecker should pick!” Grace jumped in, frowning at the twins.

 “He sure earned it.” Hunter smiled, patting Wrecker’s arm.

They all got up to dump their trash and set their trays in the washer, Wrecker thinking as they walked back to their barracks.

 “I want to watch that one about the lady who ran away from home to fight in a war so that her dad didn’t have to.” He said, helping Hunter pull all their blankets from the bunks to shape into a comfortable nest on the ground.

 They normally just laid on the floor for film nights, but tonight was special.

“That’s a good choice.” Tech hummed, pulling up the movie and displaying it on his datapad.

 The squad settled into the nest, Wrecker in the middle and his little vod’ikas tucked under his arms.

 He hugged them close and smiled.

Despite how they pitch cheap shots at each other, despite how they argue, despite all the issues they hid from each other, they were a family.