Chapter Text
The sound of heavy breathing filled Echo's helmet, making it difficult to hear orders. General Skywalker was ahead of him, lightsaber out. He shouted some orders and Echo nodded obediently, even though he didn't understand a single word he said. A hand clapsed his shoulder, startling him, and he turned around,
"You ok?" Fives muffled voice cut through the chaos. Echo nodded again and faced back forward, gripping his blaster tightly.
This was a dream
A reoccurring dream that haunted him.
He knew it by heart.
As if they had a mind of their own, Echo's legs began to move him forward. He wanted to scream and tell himself to stop moving. All that came out was a choke of desperation. The other clones around him followed suit; he had memorized their patterns. The one on his left, Echo no longer knew his name, would take ten steps before getting shot down, a bullet wound directly to the chest, killing him instantly. The clone on his right would peel off and run behind some debris for cover. Then it was Echo's turn. Without any control over his own body, he began to run alongside a parked airship. Snatching up a fallen Geonosian shield, he shot at the enemy while creeping up the ramp into the ship. Rex's and Anakin's cry fell upon deaf ears as Echo continued his assault. Echo's eyes flickered over to his captain and general, tears of frustration and grief pricked his eyes. All other clones faces had faded from his memory, yet Rex, Fives, and Anakin's voices and faces burned in his mind like fire. There was a whirring and Echo snapped his attention to the turret that had swiveled turned to him. As if in slow motion, he watched the round leave the barrel and blow up the ship he was on. Before he could scream or even move, the ground gave way from beneath him and the world flashed white.
Echo's head hit the metal table as he jolted awake. There was a rapid beeping from a heart monitor on his left that gradually slowed as his heart beat went back to normal. He looked around wildly, confused beyond belief.
There was no endless falling in the darkness.
No hard realization as he relived the dream again.
Just a rocky, empty room filled with medical equipment.
The cold metal table he lay upon bit harshly into his bare skin, giving him the realization he wore no shirt. He sat up slowly and stiffly, glancing down at all the wires tapped into him. With a grimace, he pulled them all off along with the oxygen mask wrapped onto his face, taking in a deep, shuddering breath of real fresh air. He took in a quick analysis of the room and found there was no one else. It was a simple room; rock like walls, one bright light directly above him, the beeping and whirring of all the machines around him, no windows. He was alone, again.
"What....?" he croaked, his own voice sounding foreign to him. He swung his legs over the edge of the table and sat quietly for a few seconds, taking the fact he was free from his nightmare. Or that he was now stuck in another one. He sighed and lifted his left arm, pressing it against his head, wanting to clear it from the questions swirling inside his mind.
His hand felt cold.
Cold and biting.
Like the metal table he sat upon.
He froze and drew it from his temple slowly, a slow, creeping horror taking a hold of him as he examined his arm. From his shoulder down was nothing but metal and wires. There was an elastic material where his elbow, shoulder, and wrist should of been that stretched as he moved. Horrified and fascinated, he moved each finger individually, listening to the rhythmic clicks of the gears and inner workings. He swiveled his arms about, bending it, twisting it, working it like an normal arm. It seemed to work just fine, as if his arm was just encased in a metal coat rather than completely blown off. Echo continued to stare at the silver thing that had become of his left arm.
It wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
But it was.
He felt sick and started to dry heave, his body arching from the violent fits. He reached up to cover his mouth with his good hand, it suddenly stopped short, causing his wrist to throb from the jolt. Echo closed his eyes, taking in several deep breaths, calming his shaken nerves. Not really in the mood for some other horrifying surprise, he glanced down timidly. His good wrist was shackled and chained to the side of the table, keeping him from moving too far away. The idea of his condition dawned on him; if he was in the hands of the enemy..... Quickly he looked around the room again.
Door, directly in front of the table.
No weapons.
Not even a syringe.
No windows.
No light....
Got to get out....
Got to get out....
"N-no..... don't think.... don't think..." he began to repeat to himself, rocking back and forth on his heels gently. He was a trained solider. He had to be tough.... but this was too much for him. A small, quiet sob escaped him and he quickly clamped his metal arm over his mouth, biting the cold steel.
"Don't think.... Don't break.... They're fine.... You're fine...." he whispered, his voice eventually dying away. The truth settled over him like an unwanted rainstorm.
He wasn't fine.
Something was wrong.
His mind felt like it was scattered in pieces before him but he couldn't put it back together.
Why wasn't there anybody here?
How long had he been asleep?
How long had he been in this void room?
He was tired of being alone.
Tired of living in a dream.
He squeezed his eyes shut and held himself, trying to give some comfort to his broken soul. For an eternity, he sat in silence, head bowed, praying to be free. He missed everyone, missed the fresh air, missed the missions he went on with his brothers, the Jedi.
Jedi...? Wait, what were Jedi....? He groaned and held his head again, the headache so strong his vision blurred. By the time it had passed, he no longer knew the word Jedi or had any connection to it. He wondered where they were, if they were all right or even still alive. He sat up slightly and glanced at the shiny table, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reflection to tell him how much time had passed. His face was so distorted from the table he couldn't tell. He curled back up in defeat, sitting in a dark silence that blanketed the room in a stifling manner.
Soft footsteps...
Echo straightened up and slid back to the edge of the table, getting as far away from the door as possible. A small part of him told him to be afraid of who came through the door. The other part of him told him to bash their heads in. There was a jingling of keys and the door jiggled back and forth as the person on the other side tried to find the right key. Echo sprang into action; if this was the enemy, best to act as if he were still asleep. He quickly placed the oxygen mask back over his face and laid back down into a rigid, coma like position. The door opened and a couple of Geonosians slithered into the room, chattering and clicking to each other in their language. They spotted Echo and one of them snorted in distaste, probably tired of seeing Echo asleep with no improvement. The second one hissed at its partner and stalked over to Echo, lifting his metal arm. Echo watched with cracked eye lids, studying each one carefully. The one studying his arm was the larger of the two and seemed unworried. The smaller one was checking the medical equipment, its black eyes darting to him every once in awhile. It suddenly looked at the ground and bent down, picking up the wires that were supposed to be hooked up to Echo. It let out a series of startled clicks and squeals, getting the other ones attention. Echo mentally cursed, knowing he had been found out. He swung his metal arm into the larger Geonosians face, knocking it out instantly. The small one squealed and took flight, pulling out a gun he had hanging at his side.
"S@#$!" Echo hissed and yanked the table onto its side, ducking behind it just as a couple rounds hit the table. He glanced down at the shackle and chain; a simple shot at the base of the shackle should get it off. A couple more rounds pelted the table, causing Echo to duck again. 'Stupid son of a Bantha!" he thought bitterly. The room grew quiet, each side waiting for the other to make their move. The Geonosian eventually grew impatient and hovered slowly over to the table, peeking over it cautiously. Echo sprang up with a cry of determination, flipping the table onto the Geonosian with himself on top. The winged alien screeched and hissed, scratching Echo with its free hand as he tried to free the other that held the gun. Wrestling the gun out of its flailing hands, he put a couple rounds in its head, quieting the ruckus. He sat back with a large sigh, breathing heavily from the dispute. He examined the three long scratches on his arm and scoffed,
"Weak." he muttered and shot off the shackle. He massaged his wrist and glanced around again, seeing if he could find anything but to no avail. Taking his chances, the plundered the bodies of the two Geonosian's. A couple guns, a knife, a glass vial that held a brain worm (shot that thing about fifty times), a spear, and some crappy looking bombs. Taking off their sashes, he put one across each shoulder so he could carry the spear and extra gun across his back. Holding the other one, he faced the door, uncertainty flooding his senses. He shook his head and closed his eyes, gripping the gun,
"For my brother's." he said and disappeared into the darkness of the world outside the tiny room.