Work Text:
Long Hard Years
Lady JaRuc
Commander Cody would have said the Marauder came in hot, landing gear coming down only soon enough to prevent the ship from crashing into the black sands of Lah’mu’s beach. As it was, the engines barely shut down before the ramp lowered with a decided thud. At the door crowded three tall men. Crosshair, Wrecker, and Echo stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Omega pushed her way between them to stand in front of Wrecker, one foot on the ramp. Behind them, Hunter stood with his arms crossed, relaxed, a smile settled on his face. He expected shouts of welcome then a stampeded down the ramp toward their ghostly brother, Tech.
When he heard nothing, the smile slipped off his tattooed face. When three brothers and a little sister turned to face him with disappointment, anxiety, and disbelief on their faces, he knew something was wrong. This time it was Hunter who pushed past his shipmates to step onto the ramp. No Tech. What was going on?
“Where is he, Hunter. You promised,” Wrecker said, his voice breaking as if he held back sobs.
“Wrong as usual, huh, Sarge,” came Crosshair’s snide comment. He didn’t mean it…not really...but disappointment was evident in his voice.
“Maybe he’s not here anymore,” offered Echo with a resigned sigh.
Omega said nothing, simply letting tears flow down her cheeks. She missed her brother as much as the others. To have such high hopes after Hunter told them that there was someone he wanted them to meet. And then to find out it was Tech’s ghost…such joy. Such anticipation. And now the disappointment was crushing her.
“I don’t understand. We contacted Cut and Suu to let them know we were coming.” Hunter turned to the others, his hands out, palms up, bewilderment clear in his voice and gesture. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve been back. But not that long.”
“Long enough that Omega is now our pilot and a teenager,” Echo said then added, “And nearly as tall as you.” A chuckle came from one of the brothers, and Omega smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t think maybe he had to move on, do you?”
“Cut said he’s still around when we spoke. Maybe he’s got some answers,” Hunter said, seeing the clone who lived on this planet with his family approaching the ship.
Much slower than the family had anticipated, they went down the ramp and headed across the beach to meet Cut Lawquane. The older clone, however, stopped because the Batch stopped. Next to a neatly trimmed and rock-lined grave on the grassy verge between the beach and the dense forest. The Firepuncher rifle still stood barrel down, and the beat-up white helmet still hung over the stock, swaying slightly in the warm breeze. Fresh flowers grew atop the small mound, planted there, and cared for by the Lawquane family.
Only Omega went down on both knees to touch the mound. No one said a word. What was there to say that hadn’t been said when he died.
Eventually Hunter moved closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, he nodded toward Cut. Holding out a hand, he helped her up and followed as they once more moved toward the man and the home behind him. Suu, Shaeeah, and Jek stood in the shade of the porch, knowing the Batch needed time yet again to come to terms with the loss of their much-loved brother.
Tech had been kidnapped and tortured by a bounty hunter. The Bad Batch had come for him, and at first, the way from his cell to an escape ship seemed clear, but as it was with most of their missions, the plan went sideways. While the others split off and headed for an escape ship, a massive explosion threw both Hunter and Tech off a cliff. Hunter managed to pull out his vibroknife and stab it into the cliff side to stop them from falling. At the same time, he held Tech by the other hand. No one was there to pull them up, and Hunter was as tired as Tech was injured.
It was Tech who knew they would both die if Hunter continued to hold him. He said his goodbyes to his dearly loved brother who’d saved him countless times, told Hunter to lead his family and protect them always then he twisted his hand out of Hunter’s grasp and fell. By the time the Marauder could make it back to him, he was dead, a twisted body on Mygeeto. Though he never said it, that was the Bad Batch’s Plan 99. Self-sacrifice in order to save the others.
Six months it took, on Lah’mu at the Lawquane’s home after burying Tech, before the family could pull themselves back together. Hunter had gone into a depression, thinking he’d dropped his brother. They found the man’s goggles near the body, still intact, when they picked him up. Echo made a data stick with the recordings from that day but didn’t watch it. Only Tech’s incessant penchant for recording everything allowed Hunter to realize his brother made the decision and acted on it. Each of them eventually watched the recording, individually. Too painful an experience to share, merely to talk about afterwards.
The expression on Hunter’s face as he fought to hold his big knife and struggle to hold Tech at the same time. The disbelief that appeared when Tech told him in breathless pain-filled words that he loved his family and he knew Hunter would care for them. “Remember me if you will,” he asked as he twisted his body and fought to release his hand from his oldest brother’s. The scream that Hunter gave as the vision of him in Tech’s recording grew smaller and smaller. The impact made the recording apparatus blink several times before finally going offline. The holovid sickened each.
With the day of their leaving approaching, Hunter thought he caught sight of a man in white armor who seemed to blend with the morning fog but thought it only wishful thinking on his part. The morning the others said goodbye to Cut and his family, Hunter climbed the cliff by the ocean and discovered that Tech actually lived…if only in a ghostly form. His strength was there, his brilliance, his wit, and his dry sense of humor remained intact.
Hunter left Lah’mu in a better frame of mind. However, considerable time passed before he told the others about seeing Tech. The death fragmented the family. Thoughts of killing the bounty hunter, seeking revenge, filled hearts and minds, the most volatile being Crosshair. Eventually the sniper realized that revenge and more killing wasn’t going to bring back his brother. He didn’t mellow or go soft as Wrecker accused him of now and then. He simply let go of the hate in his past and worked on making life better going forward…because that’s what Tech would have wanted him to do.
So here the family was, on Lah’mu once again, about to ask Cut Lawquane why Tech didn’t meet them.
Cut met Hunter with his arm out in a warrior’s welcome, clasping forearms tightly. “I see Tech kept his word,” he said to the stunned group.
“What cha’ mean,” asked Wrecker, his scarred forehead drawn down into a frown.
“He spoke to me this morning, out there near the water’s edge. Said he’d see each of you. ‘I do not want them sitting at my feet, like disciples, waiting to hear wise words from the dead,’ he said.” Cut motioned them back to the house. A silent group walked with him.
“Have any idea what he meant by that?” Crosshair held further nasty comments with effort. How like Tech to be enigmatic about talking to them even from beyond the grave. In the back of the man’s mind, he admitted that he was angry.
“No idea,” Cut replied.
Gently Suu hugged Hunter and Omega. She slipped past them to give Echo, Wrecker, and even Crosshair tender hugs. Shaeeah and Jek, now teens like Omega, remained quiet, most unusual for inquisitive children who saw the group as uncles and cousin.
Last meal passed in near silence, an occasional comment passing between the two families. While Omega and Echo helped Suu clean the kitchen, Hunter and Cut walked along the beach. Wrecker took up a position atop a small rock near the tide line of the beach. Crosshair disappeared into the forest behind the house.
“I never imagined seeing Tech scared, Hunter, but when I saw him the day he found out his family was returning, he went stiff, and his eyes went wide. If he’d been alive, I would have sworn his breathing kicked up,” Cut told his companion though he continued walking, without looking at Hunter.
“Scared? I’ve seen him scared plenty of times. When we were growing up. During the war. But why would our coming back scare him?” Frankly, Hunter was confused and worried. What if his brother disappeared when he’d promised the others that Tech would show up?
Hunter clasped his hands behind his back and strolled on with Cut. “Tech never handled social gatherings well. He always preferred just the squad. Maybe he wants to meet each of us individually.”
Cut lifted one shoulder in a resigned shrug. “He’s here, and I think he wants to see all of you, but…”
“Guess we’ll have to wait and see what he does,” Hunter added his sigh to his fellow clone.
* * * *
Wrecker sat on the same rock before dawn the next morning, watching the fog roll over the water. In the months they’d spent with Cut and Suu, he’d come to appreciate the mysterious but simple beauty of the place. Though heart sore at not seeing Tech once again, he let the silence and pale fog soothe him.
“The scene quite takes one’s breath away,” came a voice at his side.
Wrecker jerked sideways, his eyes going wide, his heart pounding, his hands practically digging into the rock beneath him. “Tech?”
Tech stood beside his biggest younger brother in clean white armor, his pristine helmet held at his left hip. He tilted his head to one side and responded quietly. “Yes, Wrecker?”
“Are you…” Wrecker had trouble breathing and speaking at the same time. A tinge of fear tried to close his throat. “Are ya a real ghost?”
Immediately Tech held up one finger as if making a point and said, “Technically…”
And just as immediately he stopped. Too many times, he’d seen Wrecker’s eyes glaze over and tune him out when Tech started a long-winded explanation with that word.
Only now in the absence of life did Tech realize his brother was a simple man. Not a simpleton or a di’kut (idiot). His world revolved around simple explanations, not expanded vocabulary. Keep it simple, the pilot/engineer told himself.
“Yes, Wrecker. I am a real ghost.” Tech let the sentence hang, giving his brother time to process that fact.
“Hunter said…” Wrecker swung his legs around so he sat on the rock, even with Tech who was standing. Eye to eye. The apprehension faded from his expression, and now the part of Wrecker that wanted comfort emerged. “Hunter said ya kin talk to us. He said ya touched him. That ya kin disappear.” He gulped noisily but asked, “Is that true?”
Simple, Tech reminded himself. “Hunter never lies. I can appear, and I can disappear as well. I have no theory as to how either happens. But I am here now, Wrecker.”
Finally, a smile appeared on the big man’s face. His eyes twinkled even as his body started wiggling.
Tech knew what that meant and smiled, cutting his eyes to the ocean then back to him.
“Can I…? Can I hug you, Tech?”
“I would enjoy that, Wrecker,” Tech admitted, bracing himself.
Sure enough, the big man launched himself off the rock and gathered his brilliant brother into the hardest hug he’d ever given. Tech, of course, wasn’t squished as he often accused Wrecker after a vigorous embrace.
When Wrecker finally let go, his eyes glistened with tears. “When we come back again, will you still be here?”
Tech knew his answer had more to it, but he gave Wrecker the part the man wanted to hear. “I will be here every time you return, brother.”
“Aw, that’s nice, Tech.” Wrecker looked his brother up and down then turned back to face the ocean. “Can you stay awhile? Maybe just sit with me?”
What Wrecker meant was sit with him without saying something he’d not understand.
“Scoot over, brother. We shall sit together and watch the sun come up and clear away the fog,” Tech agreed.
And the two did just that. Sat together shoulder-to-shoulder as the sun cleared the horizon. As the fog disappeared, so did Tech. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Leaving behind a happier brother and a promise.
* * * *
“You will burn out the nav panel if you wire those in that manner,” came a voice from the cockpit where Echo laid on his back tucked up under the dash.
“I redid the wiring harness last month, remember,” Echo said, his voice muffled by the metal.
“Oh.” A pause then, “I did not know.”
Echo held two wires, ready to connect them when it dawned on him how strange those words were yet how familiar the voice was. Like a shot, he bent up, intent on seeing who was talking. Whom he suspected was talking. But his forehead met an unforgiving durasteel panel, and he whacked his forehead hard enough to see stars.
Regardless of the temporary pain, he scooted out from under the control panel and looked up to see…Tech in his palest form, his helmet on.
Scrambling to his feet, he focused on his brother even as that particular brother held his data pad.
“Tech?”
“Yes, Echo?”
Echo swallowed, emotions warring within him. He wanted to remain here forever, talking to the brother he missed so much. But he knew that wasn’t possible.
“I miss you. Every day. For all kinds of reasons,” he blurted out.
“That is obvious,” Tech said as he slid the pad into its pouch attached to his belt. To alleviate what might sound egotistical, he added, “It is obvious that I miss you as well since I am still here to converse with you.”
If the situation hadn’t been so emotional, Echo would have laughed, but instead, he asked, “Will you always be here when we return?”
Tech had never underestimated Echo from the day the man joined the Bad Batch to this very moment. The man was not only a trained soldier like the other Batchers but he was also an ARC trooper—one of the Advance Recon Commandos who served heroically during the war. The man was organized, creative, sensitive, and modest. And a brother. An honest answer, though not the entire answer, would suffice.
“Yes, Echo, I shall be here every time you return,” he promised as he removed his helmet and placed it on the pilot’s chair.
Hunter said Tech was solid even if transparent. Echo stepped forward. He seldom initiated hugs, though he wasn’t adversed to receiving them. Wrecker and Omega hugged the family a lot. This time, Echo moved to surround his lost brother in a hard hug. One that he hoped would convey all the words and feelings he couldn’t push out of his heart through his mouth. To his delight, Tech responded by wrapping his arms around the thin cybernetic man.
Lost in feelings, both stood for a long time before Echo pulled back, using his flesh arm to wipe tears off his angular face. “I lay down and swear I hear you snoring. Or enter the cockpit for shift change and assume you’re in the pilot’s seat. So many times, I do things and just…” He shrugged. “I think you’re still here, repairing something or waiting to tell us about something. It’s quiet, you know?”
“But Wrecker is still here so I doubt the word quiet applies,” Tech reminded his brother as a smile chased across his face.
“Yeah, he is, but it’s a different kind of silence that he makes. What I feel is more the silence…” he paused to find the right word. “It’s a silence of absence.”
Tech nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “Echo, you are an excellent leader and an exceptional addition to the Bad Batch family. Your presence more than compensates for my loss.”
The half-machine man snorted. “I accept the compliment. Really, I do. But my being here will never,” his hand cut the air in a definite slash, “compensate for you not being with us. Never say that again.”
Silence hung between them. Not awkward but acceptable when Tech realized his words upset the other.
Finally, Echo broke the moment. “I know better than to ask if you miss us. I know you do, but what do you do around here?” Echo leaned against the chair, easing the weight off his legs.
“Is someone taking care of your prosthetics, brother?” This time Tech sounded worried.
“Yeah, yeah,” Echo waved off his concern. “Remember that technician genius that Cid pointed us to on Ord Mantell? I located him again—he’d moved to a more secure place—and he’s my go-to man now if I need anything.”
“Well done,” Tech sighed in relief.
“So, what do you do here alone?” Echo asked again.
“I visit Cut occasionally. He sometimes has news of the family. I travel and study this planet. I must say, my family chose well for my final resting place. There is so much to see and learn.”
Echo hesitated to ask but finally had to when Tech tilted his head and observed, “You want to ask but are afraid. Speak, brother. You will not hurt my feelings.”
With a sigh, the cybernetic man put his worries into words. “Are you happy here?”
“An unusual question when speaking to a dead man,” Tech pointed out without heat or humor. “I am unhappy that I am not alive with my family. But that was my choice to make, and I made it with no regrets. You are aware of that, I know. However, now that I am in this position—though I have no idea how or why I am—I am not displeased that this planet has so many things to occupy my time.” Tech studied Echo for a minute then asked, “Is that a satisfactory answer? Does that ease your mind?”
“My mind understands just fine. It’s my heart that still wants you back,” Echo admitted.
“Your heart is fine, my friend. Now…” Tech removed a small splicing tool from his belt. “That wiring will go faster if both of us work on it.”
“Just like old times, huh,” Echo said with a wide grin.
“Near enough,” Tech replied, a side-eye glance showing a hint of humor.
With a nod to each other, the living and the dead brothers slid under the dash and spent the next hour rewiring the nav system.
* * * *
Hunter worked in the far field while Cut worked nearer the house. Weeds never stopped growing no matter how many times one pulled them. The head of the Batcher family had reached the end of the last row. The weather on Lah’mu this time of year was warm, perfect for Cut’s crop. But removing weeds wasn’t something Hunter usually did so he was not only hot but tired. Not far from the rows of grain stood a thin stand of trees, offering shade for a moment of rest before returning to the house.
Hunter took small sips of water from the canteen he carried and sat, leaning back against the smooth bark of a sturdy tree. He slipped off his bandana and used it to wipe his face before running his hands through his long hair. Hair beginning to show gray strands. He wasn’t surprised. Clones aged faster than natborns, and his life as head of the Bad Batch squad then head of the family increased stress that he knew added gray hair. At times, after one of the family’s shenanigans, he would swear a few more pale strands popped up among the dark brown locks.
He secured the bandana in place, gave a thoughtful sigh, and let his eyelids close. Just for a minute. Just until he was rested.
Sometime later—he could tell the sun had moved significantly farther than when he sat down—he roused to the same noises, wind through the tall grain stalks, creatures moving through the forest, the sound of waves as the tide rolled in. He didn’t open his eyes yet, simply explored the world around him using his enhanced senses. But an eerie silence stood before him. A blank that he couldn’t understand…and then he did.
“Hello, Tech,” Hunter said as he opened his eyes and smiled at his brother. “About time you showed up.”
Tech stood in front of Hunter, the sun reflecting off his armor. “I will not apologize for my tardiness as you want to think of it.” He stepped into the shade and folded his legs as he sat, cross-legged, his helmet at his side. “You have spoken to me, seen the evidence of my unnatural reality yourself. Others had not.”
Hunter remained against the tree, but he crossed his arms, pondering something Cut said. “Why were you scared to come see us when we landed?”
To watch a ghost shrug then fiddle with grass in an awkward way was something Hunter never anticipated seeing. Rather than push the issue, he allowed Tech time to gather his thoughts. There was a reason for not showing up, but Hunter had no kriffin’ idea why.
“You have known me many years,” Tech began, not looking at his brother. “You ran off the bullies and protected me. But I never felt worthy of your care. As a member of your squad, I never thought of myself as valuable. I never thought of myself as an important part of the team because I was weaker, slower, and less capable.”
Hunter sat like a bag of duracrete, his mouth hanging open. Words failed him completely.
“I am not like others. I do not process the world in the same manner as Omega. I do not read social cues as well as you or Echo. I cannot intimidate others as Crosshair and Wrecker can. I simply exist to do what needs to be done.” Tech tossed the twisted blades of grass away before turning his focus on his oldest brother, the man who protected him and gave him a purpose in life. To serve.
Hunter jumped up and began pacing, his face furious. “Worthy? Valuable? Important?” The words exploded out of him, powerful, angry, determined. “You are irreplaceable. For yourself! For you being who you are!” The man was so mad, so hurt, so blind to the other’s self-imagine.
He stopped and began to breathe, deeply in and deeply out. Like controlling a panic attack but this most definitely wasn’t one of those kinds of attacks. This was an attack of conscience. About how blind he had been to Tech’s feelings of worth over years of time.
More in control, he returned to his brother and plopped down on the spongy grass facing him, his legs crossed like Tech’s. “Listen to me, you di’kut.”
Who in the world would ever call Tech an idiot! But Hunter just did.
“You are you. A boy that I loved from the moment I saw you. A brother dear to me. You became a man I’ve held close to my heart. Worthy? Being you makes you worthy no matter what you are or aren’t capable of. Valuable? Just being you, talking to you. Hearing your thoughts. Enjoying your company makes you valuable, not just to me but to the family. Important? Yes, you’re important to us. We miss you, you fool. I wanted to die so you could take care of the family. But you made that decision, and I hated you for one second because I knew I’d never see you again. But I respected that call. I had to. Because I respect you. Love you. You aren’t like the others. No one wants you to be. Maker knows we don’t need another intimidator. Why do we mourn you every day? Every minute? Huh? Why do you think we do?” Hunter left his words hanging between them, giving Tech time to realize a few things.
Tech sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly. He dropped his eyes as he thought. Once he sorted his words, he raised his gaze to meet Hunter’s. “I never realized. Perhaps a hand on the shoulder, a smile, a nod, a word should have told me I was appreciated. Valued for what I did for the team. But more than that, valued for being there. I contributed to the whole. I see that now. Not only as a soldier but as a brother. As a member of the family that we became when Omega joined us. In my brilliance, I was blind to those social cues indicating that I…I was loved.”
“You always knew you were loved, Tech. You weren’t that blind,” Hunter corrected him gently.
“True, but I never thought of myself as someone that anyone would miss when not there,” he said softly as he dropped his gaze.
Hunter’s senses had been enhanced by the Kaminoans, but his sense of empathy was all his own. He saw the glimmer of tears on the man’s face before Tech hid it.
“You’re here now. That’s what counts. I promised the others. Seems I should have let you handle the introductions, but that’s passed now. As long as they know you’re all right then we’re all happy.” He stood and reached out a hand to help his ghostly brother stand.
Like Wrecker and Echo, Hunter couldn’t help but ask—yet again,” Will you be here when we come back?”
This question from his sergeant and the head of the Batcher family, his older brother, deserved a complete answer. One that only Hunter would be privy to.
“I shall be here when the family returns. But I shall not be here forever, Hunter. I will only stay until all my brothers join me,” he assured the man. “And only you know that.”
“What about Omega?”
“She shall join us eventually, but we will be with the far-away march long before she does,” Tech explained. “For us, time will have no meaning. For her, the years will be long and hard. Not in terms of action but in terms of living without us.”
Hunter almost wished he didn’t know that harsh truth. He never wanted to see Omega hurt. But without her brothers, she would suffer. Not every day. Not all the time. But when the world became quiet in heart and mind, she would long for them. And those thoughts made his heart hurt. He bowed his head and used his hand to brush away tears that slid from his eyes. Eyes raised, he stepped forward and gathered his younger brother to him. Tech slipped his arms around the sergeant, and together they stood in silence.
“She will be all right, brother. She is strong, just as we raised her to be. And when the time comes, we will be there to meet her and hold her once again,” Tech said quietly.
With those words, Hunter had to be satisfied. “Promise?”
“Always.”
* * * *
Omega sat behind a tree beyond the pen Cut had built for his animals. Tech found her picking a flower apart, naming the pieces as she tossed them aside. She used the proper names he’d taught her, and he glowed with pride.
“You learned well and applied what you know,” he complimented her, his words soft, his voice low. He didn’t want to startle her.
“Tech?” Omega’s head popped up, her eyes searching. Hunter said he’d come to her, but she didn’t really believe him. Spotting him standing not far off, she jumped up in her usual enthusiastic way and threw herself at him. Only instinct from years of being with her helped him prepare for her embrace. “I knew you would come!” Her hug wasn’t at his waist anymore but up under his arms.
Had they been away that long? The child had grown taller, more feminine looking. She was quite attractive. Her hair had grown out, but she still wore it high on the back of her head. Her hug was as energetic as ever though.
“Hunter told you I would be here,” he gently pushed her just far enough back so he could place his hands on her shoulders and study her. “But you really were not sure, were you?”
She squirmed for a few seconds. “I hoped you’d be here,” she admitted, her eyes lowered. She raised them to look directly at him. “But who’s ever heard of a ghost clone?”
“I theorize that I am indeed the only one…that we know of.” He changed the subject from himself to her. “You have grown. Matured. Do you still study? What about your flying lessons? Has Echo shown you how to repair the Marauder?”
“If you weren’t transparent, I’d think you’re still alive but missing for a while so you’re catching up,” Omega said as she stood a bit straighter. “I’m almost as tall as Hunter. I think he’s worried I’ll be taller,” she said with a giggle. “Everyone gives me lessons. Wrecker teaches me how to arm and dismantle ordinance. I don’t think my brothers talk to each other when they teach me things. Sometimes one lesson will be the same thing that another brother taught me.”
Tech held up a hand to interrupt her. “Repetition forms habits. Good habits are essential. If Crosshair or Echo teach you something about flying and repeat it multiple times then it is an essential lesson you must be able to do automatically rather than have to think how to perform.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Crosshair and Echo are teaching me how to fly. Echo is by the book as you would expect, and Cross teaches me new maneuvers. But when Echo isn’t around, Cross teaches me some of the things you often did. Like the Tech Turn.”
“The turn when the pilot stalls the engine.” Tech crossed one arm and used it to prop up his other as his hand massaged his chin in thought. “A valuable maneuver indeed. One that Echo would never perform unless under extreme duress.”
“Yeah, that’s what Cross said…more or less,” Omega confirmed with a chuckle and grin. She really meant less words. But they knew what the other was talking about.
“Hunter is teaching me how to use his knife. The big one. Wrecker is showing me hand to hand combat moves too, and Crosshair is teaching me how to use his new Firepuncher.”
“It appears the Batch is as busy as ever.” Tech approved the activities and lessons. But he also noticed Omega’s face. “Something is wrong?”
“Your death…” She seemed to have trouble saying whatever she intended.
Tech took pity on her. “Come, and walk with me.”
She fell into step beside him, studying his clean armor and helmet that he carried at his side. “You look like a shinny. That’s what Echo calls someone who’s never been in battle and still has clean armor.”
“I must be considered a shinny then in this particular instance, Miss Omega, as I have no experience with this other worldliness.” He studied her face and knew she had more to say. “I shall borrow a phrase that Crosshair likes to use: Out with it.”
Omega bent down and gathered a handful of flowers without missing a step. She proceeded to shred them as she’d done earlier. Finally, she spoke, perhaps getting her thoughts in order. “It took a long time for us to reach out to each other. We shared a common loss, but it took time for us to realize we all experienced life going on without the hub of our world. We’re different. Better because we rely on each other now instead of being separate people in one spot. But we—I—miss you all the time. You’re everywhere in the Marauder. We go to a new planet, and I think about walking with you and exploring. We go to a planet we’ve been to before, and I want you to remind me what we found there the first time.”
With a slight emotional cough to clear his throat, Tech stopped and placed his hand on Omega’s shoulder. “I was never the hub as you called it of the squad’s world. I was just there to do what needed to be done.”
“No! No! You were!” She looked at him, surprise obvious on her face. “What needed to be done is what kept us together. Kept us going. You are—were—so important to the squad, to the family that we’ve become.” She saw the astonishment on his face. “You never knew that? No one ever told you how important you are—were—to us?” She threw out her hands and actually stomped her foot. “You are one of a kind!” Anger bled through each of her words. “And now we can only be with you like this! It’s not fair!”
Ah, that was the problem. She’d never experienced loss and had no idea how to process that.
“Omega,” he said quietly, stopping so she’d stop and look at him. However, she didn’t turn to face him. “Turn around, and look at me.”
She shook her head. Another surprise.
“Are you unwilling to accept my death?” He suspected that was the basis of her problem. “Life is not fair. Otherwise, the Republic would have taken care of its people. The Jedi order would have gone on as usual, being peacekeepers. The clones would never have existed. You would never have existed.” He cast his gaze out over the scene, the forest around them, the ocean further out, sun shining off the waves making them look like precious gems amid the blue water. “But the Republic fell, and the Jedi were brutally eliminated. Clones were created and perished at an alarming rate. You were made to perpetuate that process. We were created to kill. You were created for living. How my brothers and I ever met you, I have no idea. But, Omega, where life is involved so is death. We cannot live forever. Who would want to!” He threw out his hand as he finished. “I died. My brothers will die. Far sooner than you will. We shall meet again.”
“Are you going to fade away?” she asked as if she were a small child, scared and lost.
“Perhaps someday but I have no evidence to support that theory.”
“If we come back, will you be here?”
“I shall be here when you return.” He answered her question but didn’t give her the caveat that went with it.
“Promise?”
“Always.”
* * * *
Crosshair could tell that Tech had spoken to each of his brothers. Even Omega. He could tell it in the way they relaxed and smiled. Their very attitude showed Tech’s touch. But his brainy brother had yet to come to him. Maybe because Crosshair was angry. Good and proper angry. He couldn’t wait to tell off his thoughtless brother. Giving up. Leaving them. Abandoning them when they—he—needed him.
His own family as well as Cut, Suu, and the kids gave him a wide berth, knowing how much he hurt. Hunter tried to talk to him, assure him that Tech had not forgotten him, but the conversation turned out to be a waste of time. Crosshair wasn’t interested in listening.
He took long walks, moving away from the farm where he figured Tech was anchored. Avoiding the issue. His pride and his heart too sore for words.
But he should have known better. Tech wasn’t tethered to one place like the farm but to the entire planet. A walk in the forest wouldn’t stop him from finding the grouchy sniper.
Crosshair pushed through dense undergrowth early one morning. He had no interest in listening to cheery morning chatter around the house. The vegetation thinned until he stopped at the edge of a small clearing, a miniscule pool of water reflecting half shadows and half rising sun. Exhausted because he couldn’t sleep and his emotions ranged from extreme anger to extreme loss, he plopped ungraciously down on the bank of the pool. Never one to pick grass and twist it together, he pulled out a new toothpick and sat, one elbow on a knee, his hand maneuvering the slender piece of wood around in his mouth. That was his way of thinking.
As the breeze moved the leaves overhead, the shadows wavered. One across from him, near a downed log, remained steady though.
“Too scared to come over here and explain yourself?” Cross called to the shadow.
“I am avoiding that toothpick you plan on throwing at me,” Tech replied in a nonchalant tone.
“Scared, huh.” Cross was angry and wanted to yell.
Tech saw his brother as he’d always been. A shell full of emotions, roiling and boiling, locked in the shape of a man. Training on Kamino taught Crosshair to bottle up those emotions. Snipers worked alone. Showed nothing on face or through action. Neutral at all times.
Crosshair hadn’t been neutral a second of his life. He could be as angry or worried or scared as any of them. He simply had no way of showing that without expecting ridicule. Or, in the manner of the Kaminoan training, punishment.
Oh yes, Crosshair was emotional…not like Wrecker being scared or Omega being worried. Tech tilted his head, trying to understand exactly what seemed to be the problem. He’d once asked Omega what her problem was when trapped by a rockslide. Hunter had quickly shut him down, saying she knew what the problem was. She simply had no solution for it. In this case, Tech had no idea what Crosshair’s problem was.
“I am not scared though I have been more times in my life than anyone is aware of. Only recently have I discovered that perhaps I should have reached out to my family and asked for support. I was wrong in my assumptions that I was only in the squad to do necessary things.”
“You’ve never been scared of anything in your life,” Cross scoffed, finally tossing the toothpick into the grass rather than at his brother.
“You would be wrong. I am scared at the moment for you.”
Crosshair jumped up, too full of angry energy to remaining sitting. He, however, stayed on his side of the tiny pool of water. “Why the kark would you worry about me?”
Tech finally saw it, in the man’s actions, in his tone, in the way he flung himself around. “You’re angry!” Surprise bled through his tone.
“Angry? I’m furious, you di’kut! You let yourself fall off that cliff side thinking you didn’t matter as much as Hunter. That no one would miss you because you were only Tech. You didn’t give us a chance to save you!” Crosshair screamed, unaware of tears rolling down his face.
“There was a choice to be made,” Tech tried to explain. “Hunter was the one the squad, the family, needed if you were to continue. I made that choice and have no regrets.”
“Bet you don’t regret being away from us either. Wrecker’s noise. Hunter and Echo bickering about assignments. My useless comments and Omega’s whining. Yeah,” he threw up his hands. “I can see how this peace and quiet is preferable.”
“You think I wanted to leave?”
“Yeah, it didn’t take you but a blink before you said goodbye and dropped.”
“You think I do not miss the chaos among us while living in the Marauder?”
“Nah, you relish it here,” Cross repeated in a nasty tone of voice that both knew he didn’t mean.
“Hardly,” Tech stated flatly.
That got his brother’s attention. Crosshair gave him a nasty squinted-eye look.
“Peace and quiet is only good if you have something to return to. That chaos was the sound of living. No matter how disruptive it became at times. Though I made a choice that cost me everything, I would return to that chaos of my family in a second.”
That took the power out of Crosshair’s rage.
“I miss my family,” Tech said sorrowfully.
Crosshair prowled on the far side of the water, his emotions shifting to less volatile ones but none he felt comfortable sharing.
Tech recognized this. Slowly he stood, leaving his helmet on the ground next to the log. He rounded the pond, not cautiously but giving his brother time to adjust.
Words were never Crosshair’s forte. Actions were but the sniper knew actions had consequences. So, while Cross’ outburst used powerful words, whatever he might do next would prove whether he was still upset.
Face-to-face they finally stood. One afraid of going forward without the support of this brother and the other knowing he had to stay when the others left though it would break his dead heart.
Seconds passed as slowly as a rotation.
With tears still tracking down his face, Crosshair took several steps forward then lunged into his brother’s open arms. Both cried, words unnecessary. They wanted to be together. But knew they never would again until Crosshair’s death.
“Live for me, brother,” Tech whispered to his brother. “Take care of the family. Be brave.” He pulled back and shared a Keldabe kiss—touching foreheads—with Crosshair. “Be kind.”
“Do you have to go,” Cross asked softly as they held each other by the shoulders.
A nod was all the brother got.
“I’ll see you next time?” Cross asked though he knew the next time would be when he or one of his brothers died.
Tech nodded again.
“Take care of yourself,” Crosshair whispered, his heart breaking.
“Always,” was Tech’s promise.
* * * *
The Batchers bid farewell to the Lawquane family, glad to know that someone would remain behind to care for the grave and Tech. A sad group shared hugs then trudged to the Marauder as the sun left the water’s edge at the far horizon. Brilliant sunlight flooded the beach though it did nothing to alleviate the sorrow.
Crosshair boarded the Marauder last. His feet dragged. They had to leave. He knew that. His head told him he’d be back. His heart told him not soon enough.
Silence filled the ship as he stopped at the top of the ramp. The others had taken their places, preparing for take-off. But Cross felt like he’d left something unsaid. Something between him and his brother. Being a sniper with a built-in sense that said there were eyes on him, he slowly turned to see…
Tech stood not far from the bottom of the ramp. His ghostly outline not quite solid. His white armor spotless in the morning sun, his helmet held on his left hip. He stood silent as if waiting for something only Crosshair could give him.
Cross gulped, his throat filled with emotions. His heart thumped so hard that his chest hurt. His eyes watered. This was what he was missing.
Slowly he fisted his right hand and drew it up to his chest where he placed it over his heart. A gesture he’d never done before.
One side of Tech’s lips lifted into a gentle knowing smile as he raised his right fist and placed it over his heart. Each man read the other as clearly and easily as they had through all their years together.
I miss you.
I love you.
* * * *
And in the end…
The Marauder landed on the sandy beach of Lah’mu in the season between cold and hot weather. Three men and Omega had returned to bury yet another brother. Tech stood nearby as they paid their respects and mourned. A night and a day they stayed as Tech sought out each one and comforted them with his presence as he promised.
“Remove the stones, please, Omega,” Tech asked later that evening.
When she cut her eyes up to him, he explained. “There should be nothing to separate us from each other.”
Nodding, she began removing the stones that Cut and his family used to outline Tech’s grave. But to his surprise, she placed one stone at the head of his grave and two at the head of the newest one.
“I don’t want to lose my family again…at least not here,” she muttered.
Tech gave it a moment of thought before speaking. She would outlive them all. She knew it as well as they did. She might return after he and his brothers, Cody, Rex and Cut Lawquane joined their clone brothers in the far-away march… in death, going ahead of those left behind. “I think that is most appropriate. Thank you.”
The ship remained on the planet until morning. A long hard night for family in the ship and family long gone outside.
Before the ship lifted off world the next morning, Tech approached Omega where she stood near Cut and Suu Lawquane’s home…now abandoned. The couple had gone to live with their daughter Shaeeah on another Outer Rim world. Their son Jek lived off world as well.
“Where is he, Tech?” Omega wanted to see her brother as well as she could see Tech. Her tears had dried, but her desire to embrace the latest one to go had her wringing her hands.
Tech took them, stilling them in his gloved hands. “He is not like I am. This place did not see fit to let him return. I am sorry, sweet one.”
She nodded though tears trickled once more. “Take care of him?”
“Always,” Tech promised.
* * * *
Two brothers joined Omega, her husband, and five-year-old daughter Shilla when they came to Lah’mu once again to bury another brother. The warm weather was just returning. Flowers bloomed, and a few stalks of Cut Lawquane’s long-ago crops poked up their heads in the abandoned fields.
The remaining brothers leaned on each other, their bodies giving way to the advanced aging that the Kaminoans instilled in their DNA. Tech consoled them at the same time, aware that they seldom separated from each other now. Brotherhood drawing closer each day.
Omega remained on the beach, adding a pile of three stones to the latest grave. Tech approached her but remained quiet.
“I won’t see him either, will I?”
“No,” came his simple reply. She already knew the answer so he had no need to elaborate.
“This is too hard, Tech,” she moaned. “Three gone. And those two…look at them. They won’t last much longer. Why did this happen? Why can’t they live as long as I will?” She broke down and sobbed, her face sheltered in her hands. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
“No one guarantees the longevity of our lives. You know this. You flew a star fighter during the Rebellion. You have survived more times than I can recall since you joined us as an innocent child. Omega, you should have died a number of times, but you live, and that makes us happy. Never forget that. We want you to go on. You’re not through yet. Do more. Be brave and passionate about life and the family you’ve created. We shall be together one day.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
One last time she turned to the newest grave. “Take care of him.”
“Always,” Tech promised.
* * * *
A new ship landed on the black sands of Lah’mu’s beach. The Galaxy Star’s ramp lowered, and a hover-float descended accompanied by Omega. She alone came to bury her two remaining brothers. The digging provided enough workout that she used her excess energy and grief to prepare their final resting places. She placed four stones at one grave and five at the other. Finally, she made a pile of six stones next to the newest grave.
“This one is for me someday,” she muttered.
“One did not outlive the other,” a voice came from behind her as she sat between the fresh graves.
“I knew they would go at the same time. They were always together after we were last here. I found them one morning, lying next to each other like we used to do when I was a kid.” Omega swiped her cheeks to remove tears, but they still came. Slowly she collapsed over the fifth grave, arms crossed atop the fresh turned dirt, her head resting on her arms, sobbing so hard it was unhealthy.
Tech could say nothing to alleviate her grief. If she mourned this hard, his final words would tear her apart. But he didn’t want to share those until she asked. And she would.
The weather on Lah’mu had turned cold. A bitter wind blew across the sands. The forest had reclaimed the Lawquane farm and home. If a person were to rest in some beautiful place, then this was such a place. The older graves were now just slight rises in the earth, grass-covered and pleasant looking. The newer ones would become such, and that should have been a comfort for the grieving woman.
There would be no comfort for her, Tech knew. The end was here. Bittersweet. Final.
“He hated the cold,” Omega whispered as she sat up and touched one of the graves. And here we are—bitter cold that he’d grumble about. I bet he’s even got a few snarky words to say about this wherever he is now.” With great effort, she pulled herself up to stand near Tech.
She waved her hand over the graves. “When each brother died, we buried them without weapons. Your goggles. Wrecker’s Lula. Echo’s prosthetics. A pack of toothpicks for Crosshair. A bandana for Hunter. They weren’t soldiers any more. Hadn’t been for years. They were just men. They worked hard, played hard. Loved me and each other. They were just men,” she repeated. “And I loved each of you because you were my brothers. We were family. You showed me the world and its wonders. Most importantly, the Batch showed me what it meant to be loved.”
“We had to learn how to love, Omega. It did not come naturally to clone soldiers,” Tech reminded her.
“True, but when you did, you loved with whole hearts,” she said as she turned to him and slipped her arms around his neck.
Despite his aversion to physical contact, Tech had long ago learned that Omega gave hugs where and when needed. This time she hugged him because she needed the embrace. She knew he had all his brothers with him now, leaving her alone without the support and obvious love that each gave her throughout life. So, he wrapped his arms around this remarkable woman and held her.
“At least I have you,” she whispered from where her head lay tucked into the side of his neck.
And there it was. The moment he knew that would come. The moment he dreaded. He said nothing, but loosened his embrace, finally letting his arms drop to his side. Tech had three tells, making it possible to beat him at Sabaac every time. He pushed up his goggles when he was positively assured of success or curious. He bounced one leg when he was worried. And he tapped his fingers against his thigh when he knew something was wrong.
Omega raised her head, glanced up at him then let her gaze rest on his face. Slowly she stepped back, her open palms sliding down to rest on his armor’s chest plate.
Tech dropped his gaze, unwilling to meet hers. His fingers tapped madly against the armor on his thigh. He could feel the shift in her emotion. He knew what was coming. He also knew he’d never seen Omega as she was about to become.
“They’re gone,” she said softly, but not the sweet gentle tone she often used. This voice bore a deadly inflection. “And you won’t be here either when I return.” She didn’t ask him. She told him.
Her hands fisted, and she pulled them back. White-hot anger flared in her being, and she brought her fists forward and pounded his chest. Over and over, she hit him, screaming at him. Tech stood like a stout tree, letting her maul him.
“You lied! You lied!” she repeated over and over, her words punctuated with another beating.
Before she went further into disabling hysterics, Tech caught her wrists, holding them firmly, glad that his ghostly self had more strength than his living self.
“I did not lie,” he said in a flat tone.
“Yes, you did! You lied!” Omega tried to free her wrists so she could pound him some more. Tears flooded her cheeks, dripped off her chin, wet her shirt under the leather jacket she always wore. The one the brothers gave her when she flew for the Rebellion. It was her most cherished possession.
“I. Did. Not. Lie.” Tech repeated his words slowly, succinctly. He held her until he sensed the anger fading.
“I’ll never see you again, will I?”
No sense in quibbling at this point. “No.”
“But you promised to be here every time we returned,” Omega whispered as she relaxed her fists, and her shoulders sagged.
“I promised to be here when you returned. It is now up to you to make those words true.”
Confused, she moved her arms slightly, and he let her go. Her body slumped, dejection evident in each limp limb and her blank face. “I can never come back, can I?”
“Certainly, you may return. But I shall not be here. I shall be with my brothers. That was the promise I made to Hunter. I would wait for them each time until all my brothers were with me. Cody and Rex are with them. Echo has been reunited with his brother Fives. Cut Lawquane is there. We only await you, sister.”
“I can’t come back and just sit with my brothers?” she asked like a lost child seeking comfort.
“It is best to wait, Omega. They are not here. I shall not be here. Only our bodies are, and they have become—will become—part of this planet. There is no reason to return. You will join us, but for you, it will be a longer time.”
“Long hard years ahead, huh.” Omega didn’t ask him. She told him.
Yes, Tech thought, those years before we meet again shall be long ones. Hard as well though she will be surrounded by those who love and support her. She will know the difference though. Omega had us. And that made all the difference in her life…and ours.
“ Promise we’ll be together some day?” she asked in tiny scared voice.
“Wherever you go. Whatever you do, we will be waiting for you.” Tech laid a palm over his heart. “I promise.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
* * * *
One last ship settled on the black sands of Lah’mu—the Star Drifter. Once again, a single person came down the ramp walking beside a hover float, escorting an elderly woman’s body, wrapped in a quilt sprinkled with bright yellow stars, on a background of soft blue for Echo and Captain Rex with red and gray for her beloved brothers, Clone Force 99.
Omega’s granddaughter, Tracker, escorted the body to the final gravesite. Years earlier Omega had piled six stones over an empty spot next to her last brother. That marked her final resting place.
Tracker was a vibrant strong young woman who looked and acted so much like her grandmother: tall, slender, blonde-haired, with lively honey-brown eyes. Her real name was Valian, but Gran Megs nicknamed her Tracker.
“She reminds me of my brother Hunter. He had enhanced senses and could track anything,” Omega had said to her daughter Shilla one day when two-year-old Valian was sneaking up on an insect. “She’s gonna be a tracker when she grows up, I’ll bet cha.”
Sure enough, Valian, or Tracker as her family started calling her, worked for the New Republic law enforcement agency, tracking down criminals.
When the grave lay fresh and clean, Tracker folded her legs and sat between her grandmother and the last brother. The woman never knew the brothers, of course; her mother Shilla knew the last two though. So many stories. So many holovids. So many evenings listening to Gran tell stories about her family—Clone Force 99 and the friends they had, those where they lived and those clones close to them like Cut Lawquane, Captain Rex, and Commander Cody. Tracker felt like she knew them all.
She especially loved the stories about Omega when she was a teenager and all the angst the brothers went through trying to raise a kind and caring person without stepping over her teen boundaries. She’d laughed hard when her grandmother imitated each brother. The snippy one. The proper-sounding one. The motherly one. The biggest hungriest one. The beloved leader. Each man held a special place in Tracker’s heart because she knew they’d worked hard and loved hard in order to raise their sister in the right way.
Tracker carried a copy of her favorite picture of Omega and her brothers with her at all times. A friend took it when Omega had leave time during the Rebellion and flew home for some R and R. She wore her new leather jacket that the brothers had given her. The one Tracker insisted she be buried in. Omega was a grown woman in that photo, long blonde ponytail swishing, surrounded by three aging brothers. Two had already joined the far-away march with their clone brothers.
Gran Megs had told Tracker all about the Mandalorian-clone connection and their belief that no one is ever really gone, simply marching far ahead of the living. Tracker even spoke the language as she often worked the Outer Rim and met Mandalorians.
“Guess you’re with your brothers now, huh, Gran.” The young woman sighed as she studied her surroundings. “It’s pretty here. I bet the guys liked it. Poor Tech stuck here for years though. At least it looks interesting. The family did right by him,” she said as she patted the newest grave. Warm and sunny, the day eased along while Tracker enjoyed just sitting for a change. No rush to get to the next job. No worries about her grandmother’s health. Just peace and quiet.
Finally, the sun began its journey toward the horizon. Tracker had a job to return to though she was granted time to mourn. But she didn’t see it as mourning, what she did that day. She saw it as a celebration. That’s how Omega saw her end. A great celebration when the sister and her brothers would meet again. Toward the end, Omega sounded more like her snippy brother, Crosshair. “Why’s this taking so long. I’m ready.”
“You’re here now. The family is complete. I wish…” Tracker let her sentence trail off. A desire to see the finish floated through her mind, but she knew that the end was the end. No sense getting sentimental about it. Gran would have said that was Tech’s or Crosshair’s influence on her. Omega often saw her brothers’ traits in her granddaughter.
Slowly Tracker unfolded her legs and stood. She brushed the dust off her leather pants and straightened her jacket, a near perfect copy of Gran Megs’ though Tracker’s jacket bore a New Republic patch instead of Clone Force 99’s.
Fog started gathering at the edge of the water. Gran often told her that fog rolled in as the sun prepared to set. It was a magical time, mysterious, and inspiring.
Tracker glanced at the calm water, saw tiny curls of blue rolling up on the sand only to pull back into the deeper ocean. She saw…
She blinked, thinking she’d been too long in one place, staring at nothing. She rubbed her eyes and turned back to look at the rock where Omega’s brother, Wrecker, used to sit when they returned.
No. No way, Tracker told herself. But then she chuckled. Oh yeah, only Gran could pull off a stunt like this. With a wide smile cutting across her face, Omega’s granddaughter studied the ghostly group gathered at the rock watching her. Gran sat in the middle—not the old woman Tracker knew but the lively Rebellion fighter in her comfy leather jacket and high-bound ponytail of gold. To her left, shoulder-to-shoulder, sat Hunter in his perpetual bandana. Crosshair leaned against the rock just above Omega’s right shoulder, one foot propped up on the rock, a toothpick hanging from his lips, and one hand resting on the woman’s shoulder. Behind Crosshair stood Wrecker with one hip pressed against his rock, his arms crossed, a wide smile on his scarred face. Tech stood in front of Wrecker, his data pad in one hand but not focused on it. Echo stood next to Hunter, calmly watching the granddaughter.
“The Bad Batch…one last time,” Tracker whispered in awe. Only a blind man could miss the joy on the faces of the Batch. Together at long last.
As if they were talking among themselves, the group stood and turned toward the fog. They laughed at something but stopped when Tracker called out, “Wait!”
They turned back to her, and Tracker did what her heart told her to do.
“Thank you…for everything. Love you,” she said then added, “Gar cuyir ner alit. Ni Kelir kar’taylir gar te kyr bal vurel venjii.” You are my family. I will know you until the end and ever after. Then she straightened and gave them a casual two-finger salute, the one her grandmother taught her.
Ghostly Omega grinned and tossed the salute back at her. Joining arms with Crosshair and Hunter, she walked into the fog. Walked into that far-away march with her clone brothers, the long hard years over, happy at last.
* * * *
Special thanks to the song, Right Here Waiting for You by Richard Marx. That is Tech’s last promise to Omega…we will be right here waiting for you.
Thank you most of all to author Buckhunter who wrote an amazing series of stories called Battleborn/Tech’s Goggles. It was his stories that inspired me to create this ending. One that wasn’t needed, for his stories are complete, but one I immediately thought of. With his permission, I present it to you.