Chapter Text
"We've been assigned?"
"Yes, a jedi Master analyzed available clones and specifically chose your squad."
Hunter wants to walk faster, perhaps in circles, muttering to himself and processing this information. Obviously, he won't do this in front of the Kaminoan, so he just nods.
"Understood."
"He should arrive later today. Make sure everyone is prepared." He agrees, not hearing very well, just enough to ensure there won't be any problems. He holds the holopad with the information firmly as he walks alone now.
A jedi, who wants them. They had already worked with jedi on some missions, Masters who were always cordial and appreciative of extra help, hardly knew them better than colleagues. More often than not, if they talked to regs, both he and his men would hear a lot about the Generals. The others didn't react much; Tech always seemed more interested in understanding the jedi abilities than the jedi themselves. Wrecker tended to find the stories fun. Crosshair rarely participated, but if he did, it was always with an ironic comment about exaggerating stories.
Hunter didn't say much; among them all, he was the one who interacted most with the jedi they worked with. Friendly and polite, as they always were, they tended to find the batch a bit rebellious and violent, even though they never said it aloud. He couldn't understand why a jedi would specifically want them among so many clones to choose from.
"Crosshair, come here!"
"I think you're already heavy enough."
"Tech is skinny, I can barely feel him!"
"Hey!" Okay, that wasn't a sight they could present to a jedi. Wrecker was on the ground, with Tech and other boxes on his back to add weight for push-ups. The clone on his back was fiddling with a holopad, seemingly indifferent to the movement below him. Crosshair was sitting in one of the bunkers, reassembling a blaster with his usual ease. "If you want weight, ask Hunter, he's the biggest after you."
"No way. Upwards, we need to look much more presentable than this."
"Is there a senator coming to visit by any chance?"
"No, our jedi." The reactions are immediate. Crosshair misses the mark and the weapon beeps as he makes a wrong attachment. Tech lifts his head from the holopad only to fall back as Wrecker quickly stands up. "We were assigned, or rather, chosen by a jedi. Permanently."
"What?/Who?"
"You heard me, come on, we have a few hours at most to get ready. The information is here." Wrecker manages to reach the holopad first, Tech quickly perched on his shoulder to see the information as well. Having stared at and reread the holopad the whole way, Hunter leaves them.
"Master Opress?"
"A jedi requested us?" Hunter feigns ignorance of Crosshair's skepticism, shrugging.
"Yes."
"Specifically."
"That's what was said."
"Zabrak, between 30 and 35 years old according to galactic standards, a master since his early 20s. That's quite a career, huh." Hunter nods; if they did a little more research, they could discover more peculiarities about the Jedi like he did, but he was gonna let them find out for themselves. "A shadow. Former padawan of a council master. High mission success rate. No image?"
"I presume it's for security; we'll meet him when he arrives." Just as he had been before, the others seemed to be reading every piece of information on the holopad. "Come on, it won't do any good for you to keep reading this if we don't make a good impression."
They straightened up in a pressure disguised as unease and anxiety. They were supposed to be enjoying a break, but the news had taken away any desire to rest from the four of them. Different expectations were forming in each of them for this Jedi. Hunter only hoped he wouldn't end up like the stories about generals he'd heard; like having to recover lost lightsabers or being tossed around by the Force.
Tech seemed more interested than anxious, perhaps he already had many questions he wanted to ask, or was more confident than Hunter could dream of being. Wrecker was static, his feet drumming as if he couldn't stay still, glancing back at the holopad every now and then. Crosshair was too quiet even for him; Hunter couldn't read his thoughts, but he ventured to say that he was much more suspicious than the others about this meeting.
Within an hour, they were waiting, prepared and in line. Hunter is almost certain that the excitement made them act faster than usual. They left and went to the designated hangar to wait for the Jedi. From the window, Hunter could see 99, carrying something. Noticing the clone's gaze, the older one gave a wave and then clapped silently; he must have already heard the news then.
They waited by the edge of the rain long enough for his vode to complain about him and his insistence on arriving early rather than late, until a ship began to descend onto the platform.
When the ramp was halfway open, a figure jumped through the opening, gliding precariously through the rain until she began to run towards them. Even without the usual Jedi robes, the green lightsabers indicated that it was a Jedi, a small Jedi in fact, a Padawan! A girl with white skin and short gray hair with linear tattoos of the same color on her face, she slid between Hunter and Wrecker as soon as she reached the clones. "You are—"
"His Padawan, training, let's go!" She doesn't wait to give another order; Wrecker and Tech are already following her as she continues running. Crosshair looks along with him to see the ramp almost opening, a dark, heavy boot hitting the metal. The sharpshooter follows him as he also follows behind the girl. "Is there any open area with good hiding places?"
Nodding, Hunter takes the lead in the race to take them to one of the cargo areas, full of boxes and other materials, moving slowly and as a group under the dim lights. He looks at the Jedi.
"I'm CT-9901, Sergeant Hunter." He points to the others, catching his breath. The Padawan extinguishes her lightsabers as he continues the introductions, "These are Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker; we have pretty self-explanatory names." The joke seems to help, and the Padawan lets out a slight snort, bowing as she approaches.
"I am Merrin Opress, Padawan of Master Maul. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
"Likewise, can you explain what's happening now, Commander Opress?" The girl smiles, but relights one of her lightsabers as she slowly walks around the area.
"My master has a habit of using surprise training. He's usually some kind of enemy who hunts me and whom I must defend myself against or outwit; by surprise I mean he can start them at any moment, and I'll only know when his lightsaber comes towards me." She gives them a serious look, but especially Crosshair, "Don't hesitate to shoot, he won't. Is there another entrance here?"
"Just one further ahead, we've already closed the one we came in, there's only this one." The padawan nods, Hunter takes the lead again, turning a corner of boxes—
Only to be thrown back like a rag doll by an invisible force, a gloved hand extended that throws him past his brothers. The commander immediately advances with her lightsaber, which is caught in mid-air by a second gloved hand and then she is thrown back as well, managing to fall more gracefully than Hunter and gets up in a second.
The others don't waste time and immediately start shooting, a dodge and then—
A blood-red blade is activated and deflects the shots, the Jedi Master emerges from the shadows deflecting the shots perfectly.
"Red blade?!" Wrecker shouts at the noise, and the padawan nods to him before advancing.
"They say it's his charm!" She ignites her other blade, and when she attacks, the master ignites another one equally. Two lightsabers against a double lightsaber. Green against bright red. "Master, this is a very inconvenient way to test our compatibility in battle!"
"Complain to someone else." The Jedi's voice is melodious, with a clear Coruscant accent. He duels with his Padawan with a practice that shows he's not giving his all. "It's only inconvenient for you."
Without the slightest mercy, he kicks the commander, sending her flying several meters, immediately returning to deflect the clones' shots. But Hunter has already managed to switch places with Crosshair next to Tech, with the Jedi focused on them, the sniper comes from the side through the boxes, his improved blaster aimed directly at the Jedi's head.
For a confusing second it seems he hit, but the Zabrak isn't falling backward but bending over. The bullet passes where his head was, and with a back flip he returns with his saber now split, one blade deflecting Hunter's shots and the others, and the other deflecting Crosshair's.
Kriff.
Hunter ducks just in time to dodge the enormous crate Wrecker grabs to throw at the Jedi. It's immediately cut in half, but the commander seizes the opportunity to advance through the crate's wreckage, putting her weight on her two lightsabers against one of her master's. He still withstands her attack and the clones' shots, but it seems he's already achieved whatever he wanted.
It happens faster than he can keep up. In one second, there's an enormous pressure that throws him off balance; two seconds later, the remains of the cut crate fly straight towards them. Out of the corner of his eye, he can still see the commander flying towards Crosshair. He barely dodges the crate; the metal hits the corner of his head, and when he blinks to open his eyes, he sees the Jedi master coming at him with full force. Hunter can barely react before the man leaps and has the audacity to use him as leverage, then descends with a kick to Wrecker's shoulder that also knocks him down.
He wakes up still on the ground, with a boot nudging the side of his helmet.
"It was an acceptable job, Sergeant, but if you stay unconscious much longer, I might change my mind." It’s almost like being back in training; Hunter springs to his feet, standing before the Jedi Master. "Ah, that’s better." Now fully awake, Hunter finally gets a good look at the Jedi.
He is somewhat short—shorter than all of them, even Tech. He has abandoned the Jedi’s usual beige and brown tones in favor of black with silver accents—and the clone can’t help but notice he wears no armor—opting instead for form-fitting, somewhat revealing clothing. His skin is as red as his lightsaber, covered in intricate black tattoos so detailed that Hunter can actually see the varying textures of the ink. Bright, reflective green eyes gaze at the clone with a look of amusement, patiently waiting for Hunter to steady himself.
"General Opress. I’m CT-9901, but you can call me Hunter. Sergeant in charge of this squad."
"Well, you’d best wake the rest of your squadmates, Sergeant." Hunter suppresses a grimace; Wrecker is completely knocked out nearby, Tech is already stirring—having taken the least severe impact of the three—and he can’t even see where Crosshair ended up. "First impressions are important, after all."
Within minutes, they all pull themselves up off the ground; they are certainly tough enough to take a few hits. The Commander stands beside her Master, complaining as the Zabrak applies bacta to her injuries. Looking at them side-by-side now,and considering the same last name, they are clearly related in some way; this piques Hunter’s curiosity—weren't Jedi supposed to be free of family ties?
"General." They snap into formation before the Jedi, drawing an amused look from him.
"You did well. You devised a plan and adapted quickly to a surprise element; furthermore, you established an almost instant connection with Merrin and synchronized with ease." The clone nearly lets out a sigh—great, this was the kind of perfect assessment the batch ought to receive. "Although you relied on her regarding my lightsaber, I take it you’ve never fought against Sith before?" Osik—there had to be a catch, didn't there?
"No, General."
"That’s going to change; they are precisely who we’ll be going after." A smile plays on the Jedi’s lips, revealing sharp fangs. "I am responsible for hunting the Sith, Sergeant, and all of you are going to help me do it."