Chapter Text
Ord Mantell is as barren as the day they first arrived- the very same day they left. It remains a dry near-desert with endless patchy plains and occasional jutting mountains. It still looks very warm outside.
The shuttle passes through the planet’s atmosphere with relative ease, obeying Tech’s every command. It’s a newer shuttle, created not long before the end of the war, based on how smoothly she runs and how gently she turns. He’s almost envious of it, almost does consider keeping it, moving their things from the Marauder onboard. But, no. The Marauder might be older and temperamental, but it has a lot of history. Countless battles live within her oldest parts, thousands of memories are stored within her strong walls.
That’s why it’s a relief to see the old ship, sitting right where they left her, sitting in the mountains at the edge of the Zygerrian camp. She appears to be abandoned, and in one piece, but Tech does a low fly-by anyway, just to be sure. As they’ve learned, better safe than sorry.
When they land, Hunter and Wrecker board the Marauder to make sure it really is all-clear. Tech circles the outside of the ship, examining the hull from any damage, flashing a glance through the gunner’s seat viewscreen when he passes by it. But the ship really has remained untouched- even the gonk droid is still present and intact, though in need of charging time.
“It feels too good to be true.” Echo grunts.
“Perhaps it is, but luck is not always against us.”
Stepping back aboard his ship makes him feel safer than he’s felt since Kaller.
The Havoc Marauder’s engines sound different than the other shuttle’s, and it’s great to hear them again. The familiar lullaby is soothing, like an old friend. It is an old friend, really, for the Marauder has always been there for them, for him. Even if he had once severed his finger whilst mending her hull. Time and time again, the ship had returned for him, if albeit under one of the others' hands. And he's done the same for her. She's his ship, he's always insisted, and she always will be.
It’s near silent on board, with Wrecker and Omega sleeping soundly. Hunter and Echo are in the cockpit, conversing over hyperspace watch. Tech remains in the cargo hold, dividing his attention between watching the unconscious Commander Cody and taking care of his several arm problems. With the medical supplies from the stolen shuttle, they have been able to keep the Two-Hundred-And-Twelfth commander sedated for quite some time, haven’t given him the chance to awaken. Because that’ll be a whole other headache to deal with, and they’re not quite ready for it.
Hunter’s leg has been treated, as has Tech’s arm. Their wounds have each had about a rotation to heal- it’s already been that long since their escape. Tech’s currently stripped of the top half of his armor, both gloves included. He has nothing to hide from his brothers anymore. He unwraps the bindings on his blaster burn, hardly frowns at the scar. He has so, so many scars. Adding a new one to the collection never really bothers him. Not the physical ones, anyway. He takes a moment to test the functionality of the limb, finding it to be undamaged- just as he’d hoped.
Echo and Wrecker had already gone around the ship and locked up all of the weapons and explosives, in preparation for Cody’s awakening. The only weapons out now are the ones that Hunter, Echo, and Tech carry one themselves at all times- set to stun. Wrecker’s strength is more than enough to deal with Cody, should the reg commander try anything, and Omega’s always near one of them- though she actually did scavenge a Zygerrian bow for herself before their departure from Ord Mantell. They really don’t have much to worry about, for the moment- which is truly perfect after the events of the last week. A break is just what they all need.
What wounds and illnesses they received on Kadavo are just about gone, now. Echo’s in full health, at last, and Tech’s back is a field of closed up scars, void of infection. It doesn’t bother him all that much, other than the occasional warning it gives him when he stretches. The medics aboard the Negotiator had done a good job at patching him up, and he’s grateful for that, whatever their intentions of keeping him alive had been for- he suspects that they had been planning on surgically activating the Batch's chips.
Tech has just finished connecting the mechanical nerves of his cybernetic finger back up and turns his attention to settling it on the flesh stub. He always forgets how tight of a fit it is- he’s only had to remove and replace it a couple of times before. He could probably do with loosening it, just a little- but not now. Instead, he sets to recalibrating the mechanical digit, now that he has access to all of his tools again.
There’s a moan from his right, where Cody’s strapped into one of the crash seats, his chin limp against the bar holding him in place. He’s waking at last- they need to ration their sedatives, they’re not unlimited. “W-Where am I?”
“Welcome aboard the Havoc Marauder. We...rescued you.”
“Marauder?” Cody mumbles, still half out of it. But his head snaps up and his eyes are wide when reality crashes down on him. “Tech? Wha- my men!”
“We left some alive.” He offers, though he can’t say he’s very apologetic about it.
The commander looks near-livid, his scar twisting as his jaw grinds. His words spit from his mouth, stinging, as if laced with venom. “Some?! They were good men! They were doing their duty! You betrayed us! Is it that hard to be a good soldier? Is it that hard to follow orders?”
“They are not orders when they are wrong.” Tech murmurs, flashing him a remorseful look.
“Good soldiers-”
“-Follow orders?” Hunter interrupts, passing into the cargo hold from the cockpit. His eyes are hard, revealing nothing. He stares down the rescuee. “Yeah, we’ve heard that one before.”
“What do you want with me?” Cody growls, fighting against the crash bar as if he’s not aware that he can simply lift it up and free himself.
“To help you.” Tech replies, not looking up from his work. He’s pried open a panel on his cybernetic finger, is rewiring it, occasionally prodding it to gauge a reaction. A moment of silence passes, and he takes it as Hunter’s permission to continue. “All of the clones were created with inhibitor chips inside of their heads. While ours did not activate, the rest of the army’s did. You are not thinking of your own free will.”
“You’re lying. I would know- we’re not droids!”
“You’re acting a lot like one.” Hunter retorts, as blunt as Crosshair.
That shuts him up right fast, though his face screams at them in accusation, in betrayal of being compared to a Separatist battle droid. If looks could burn holes through something, his definitely would have. But Hunter meets his glare steadily, and the commander’s own falters. He exhales harshly through gritted teeth, shakes his head in disbelief. His voice is a couple levels lower. "You know, there's an order to have you terminated, from the top. I guess I shouldn't have hoped you'd change your minds about what side you chose."
“We’ve always stood up for what’s right. Look around you, Commander. Don’t you know what the Empire’s been doing? When they took Kamino, we were sent to wipe out a camp of civilians! We’re soldiers, Cody, not murderers- and that’s what they’re trying to turn the rest of you into. Good soldiers are willing to disobey orders for what’s right. Think on it for a bit, then we’ll talk.” It’s Hunter’s turn to shake his head. He turns to head towards the bunkroom, stops to pause at Tech’s side. His voice falls to a level that only he can hear. “You gonna be alright if I leave you with him?”
“He is not hurting anything.” Tech assures him. “We will be fine.” Besides, Echo is still up. He can give any aid that I may require. He doesn’t say it, nor is he really feeling the sentiment.
“You sure?” The sergeant asks, an eyebrow raising.
“Yes, Hunter.” He rolls his eyes in fond exasperation, diverting his attention away from his recalibration work. “Now, try not to worry about my wellbeing for a moment and go sleep while it is not your watch. With our luck, you know that we are going to need it.”
“Never could argue with you and win, could I?”
Tech gives him a pointed look.
“Alright, alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Just don't overwork yourself."
Hunter raises his hand to clap him on the shoulder, but the engineer flinches back, against his own volition, a near-inexplicable spike of fear flashing through him. Because he expects to feel the harsh, relentless slash of an electro-whip parting his flesh, a jolt of blinding electricity coursing through his veins, to every corner of his body. He doesn't even notice his reaction until he notices Hunter's, the sergeant's arm shooting back as quickly as the Zygerrians' pet took out Wrecker during the failed Rancor rescue. They stare at each other in mutual surprise.
It’s Cody who breaks the silence, exponentially more subdued than he was perhaps a minute prior. “Tough time on Kadavo, then?”
“Yeah.” Hunter grunts sardonically. “Thanks for the extraction.”
“What he means,”Tech intervenes,“is to thank you for the food and medical treatment.”
He can see the conflict swirling in the commander’s eyes. “You’re still traitors.”
Hunter shakes his head, sighs. “I’m calling it a night, fellas. Take it easy, and don’t kill each other before I wake up.”
With that, the sergeant refrains from patting Tech’s shoulder, turns and heads into the bunkroom with the very slightest hint of a limp in his step. Silence befalls the cargo hold once more, and the engineer resumes his tinkering to the lullaby of the engines, relieved that the moment’s passed, humiliated that it even happened. Has Kadavo really left such a scar on his mind? But, of course. Why would it not?
He hears Cody’s scowl as he realizes that he’s only trapped in a crash seat, hears the creak of the metal bar as he pushes it up. But the commander doesn’t move, and Tech spots him with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. It must be a lot to take in, he muses, deciding not to focus on it too much.
He prods his metal finger once more in hopes of receiving a reflexive recoil- Cody really isn’t a problem for him, unarmed, outnumbered, outmatched in all ways. He's not a Marshal Commander for an ability to make rash decisions- it’s not really his style anyway. Regs are too orderly. Other than Echo, Rex had been the only one willing to learn to adapt to non-regulation tactics. Cody, perhaps, may have, had he not been injured in the crash on Anaxes- just because they worked with him prior to that doesn’t mean that he fought down in the dirt alongside them. His position had required him to stay back, to allow his men to go before him. Nonetheless, he’s one of the most honorable regs that the Batch has ever met- as if they’d gotten well acquainted with very many before.
“You never do stop working, do you?” Cody’s words- his voice at all, really- catch him off guard more than the hint of amusement. It seems that there’s some of him left in there after all.
“I do not- though, I thought that was made obvious in the hangar on Kamino.”
“Guess I kinda expected you’d have changed your ways since then.”
“Change my ways…” Tech lets the air seep through his teeth gently, shakes his head. “You say that, even after being instructed to kill us for disobeying orders?”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” The other clone confesses. “Everything’s been a bit off since you transmitted that interference over our comms.”
What? It affected the chips? He doesn’t get a chance to get a word out.
Cody sounds regretful. “I knew you boys would get into some serious trouble one day, but I have to admit that I didn’t expect to ever have to hunt you down. You guys are pretty sensible, always have been…Surprised you lost your way.”
“Things are…more complicated than they once were. Perhaps, we have all lost our way.”
“You know what? I might be able to settle on that.”
It seems, for the moment anyway, that Cody’s agreed to disagree, and Tech certainly isn’t going to push his luck. He’s more than glad that the commander’s settling down, relenting in his argument. Perhaps, the interference he’d transmitted had interfered with the functionality of the regs’ inhibitor chips. An interesting theory…Perhaps even something he could test. But not now, as his cybernetic finger is only half-functioning itself. Which is something great, so long as it doesn’t decide to spasm and crush his flesh fingers.
He quietly finishes up the rewiring, occasionally flickering a glance over at the commander, just to keep an eye on him, to make sure he’s not trying to sabotage anything- in all honesty, Cody never even gets up, which is more than fine by Tech. He puts the last wire back into place, grimaces, then activates and prods it with an electroshock probe that he’d collected from a scrapyard. His whole hand jerks at the contact, and the cybernetic finger snaps to follow the movements of the two flesh digits on each side of it. He tests it, closing and opening his fist, feels relief in his chest when it works. Perfect. Ten usable fingers again, his right hand functioning at its highest.
Cody glances up from his work as Tech rounds the side of the Marauder, reporting his return to repairing the shuttle. His cybernetic finger feels foreign, cold against the aching, raw-skinned stub beneath. But he’s not about to complain over it.
“How does it look?” He asks.
“Can’t tell that anything happened to it.” Cody assures with a firm nod. “Looks good as new.”
The slightest bit of tension in his chest of the others discovering it fades. “Thank you.”
“And what have you learned from this?”
“I have found that it is best not to use the fusioncutter without proper rest beforehand.”
Cody gives another nod, this one of approval. He rises up to his feet, sets down the tool in his hands. He pats Tech’s shoulder, just as Hunter would. “Very good.”
Tech glances up at the commander, shakes his head to himself, moves to pack his tools back into his toolkit. Such a long time ago. How things have changed since then. The entire galaxy has changed since then. It feels odd to think that the severing of his finger had been among the best times of his life, but it’s true. Everything was so much clearer back then.
He gives Cody a dangerous moment of responsibility, ducking into the bunkroom to shove his toolkit beneath his bunk. When he returns, Cody’s still not moved from his seat, and he pulls the top of his blacks over his head, begins to suit back up. He feels safer with his armor on, even if there’s not much that the commander can do to harm him, even if he has his pistols right at his hips- it’s like a child’s comfort blanket, almost. A curious idea, that. But it’s true, that his armor protects more than just what’s on the outside. It’s his shelter, from the eternal storm that is nearly all other sentient beings.
He’s in the midst of fastening on his left pauldron when the warning beep of his datapad reaches his ears. He already knows what it’s signalling, and not just because of the deep scowl on Cody’s face.
“Oh, yes- your comms will not work.” He informs him. “They have been rewired to intercept any pings and to signal me when you try to use them.”
“You have got to be kidding me...”
“The Empire will not receive your distress call.”
“So, you’re keeping me prisoner, then?” The commander guesses.
Tech shakes his head. “We are transporting you somewhere safe.”
The Marauder soars down from the atmosphere in a gentle, swooping dive. Below- Yavin 4, the rainforest moon of Yavin Prime. Trees spring up from the ground, sparse ancient temples towering over them. Luckily, it’s the dry season. This moon has a lot of history, Tech knows- he’s, naturally, caught up on it all, aware of its significance in the times of the Old Republic. It’s a relatively remote planet, one of the most remote they’ve ever been on. But he’s not here to indulge himself- that’s a luxury that he doesn’t really have anymore, thanks to being on the run from the Empire. Clone Force 99 is here on business.
Hunter, Echo, and Omega file into the cockpit as Tech guides the ship down towards the surface, his well-trained hands steady. Omega chirps up, happily asking basic questions about the moon, and Tech gladly answers.
“Why are we here?” She finally asks, as he brings the ship to hover above the location he’s picked out, slowly begins a straight horizontal descent.
“We’re dropping Cody off here for a while.” Hunter tells her. “It’s quiet, and there’s nowhere for him to run off to before we get back.”
Echo looks uncomfortable at the notion of leaving Cody behind, but he doesn’t say anything- they’ve already all discussed it. Because it’s not really leaving him behind- it’s sheltering him from the Empire.
Leaves rustle as the Marauder lowers between the trees, brushing up against her hull, light enough not to do any damage. The canopy closes over them, enclosing them in what’s almost another whole world. It’s shadowed, almost foggy, and the sun only shines through a few perfect gaps in the leaves. It’s beautiful, beneath the trees, and Tech regrets all the more that they cannot stay. So much that he could study…Even Hunter and Echo are impressed by the scenery, if only briefly.
“This place is quieter than the Rishi outpost.” The cyborg murmurs, in his brief awe.
“I would not be so certain.” Tech opposes. “There are a number of dangerous species native to the planet. You should read about the Woolamanders. They enjoy pelting one another with fruit and rocks- and they are not the most dangerous thing here.”
“...And we’re leaving him here?”
“He is more than capable of looking out for himself.”
Echo shakes his head, groans.
The ship touches the forest floor, tilts at the uneven angle of the ground- they must’ve landed on some aboveground tree roots. But Tech’s not going to lift off and spend perhaps hours searching for a better spot to land. They don’t plan on staying longer than necessary- this will do well. Nonetheless, he still shuts down the engines. Their fuel supply isn’t unlimited- that’s why they need credits, why he believes that they should return to Cid’s parlor on Ord Mantell.
Tech presses the button that pops open the hatch to the outside of the ship, feels the begin to heat up by a few degrees- it’s cold in space. Echo offers to guard the ship, insists that he and Cody have already discussed what they’ve needed to. Tech indulges him, and is the first to step out onto the soil of the rainforest floor, Omega on his heels with unsuppressed excitement at visiting a new planet. That’s the part of him that’s in her- she has Crosshair’s observation skills, Wrecker’s heart, Echo’s undying loyalty, and Hunter’s courage…and she has his ever-returning youth, the desire to explore and learn, to understand. Not nearly to his extent, of course, but…He thinks he finally understands why his brothers put so much effort into protecting him, into taking care of him. Because, he may be mistaken, but he believes that feeling may be the one he feels in his own chest as he watches her. And he can’t say that it’s entirely awful.
“Hey, kid!” Wrecker calls from the Marauder’s opening. Hunter’s guiding Cody from the ship, a hand carefully resting near his blaster. “C’mere, give ‘em some space.”
“But-”
“You can explore next time, Omega.” Tech promises. “We both will.”
Something in her eyes lights up at the prospect and she nods. “Okay, Tech!” And then she’s dashing over to Wrecker’s side, scuttling back up into the ship’s belly.
Wrecker ducks back inside after the girl, but reemerges, pushing one of their supply crates down the ramp- thank the Force it has an activated repulsorlift attached to it- and across the clearing in a single, powerful thrust. Wrecker vanishes back into the ship after Omega, and Tech’s left to roll his eyes as he secures the crate and brings it along after Cody and Hunter.
They don’t go far, only to where the trees thicken as they draw away from the miniature excuse of a clearing that the Marauder rests in. They’re still within viewing distance. If they look hard enough, they could even see one of the old temples not that far off, in the opposite direction, the old stone mossy from years of abandonment.
It’s at Hunter’s silent command that Tech hands the supply crate over to Cody, who simply deactivates the repulsorlift and sits atop it, rests his orange and while helmet in his lap.
Hunter's the first to speak, and Tech can see the way the words reluctantly drag themselves up his throat and push to the surface. "When we get all of this chip stuff sorted out, we'll come back, get you sorted too. I promise."
“So, that means I’ll die here on my own. Got it.” The commander refuses to meet either of the Batchers’ eyes.
“We keep our promises, Cody.”
“You think I don’t know that you abandoned Crosshair too?” There’s that flash of betrayal again, flaring up in once-friendly eyes. News has always traveled fast in the GAR, and it appears not to have changed even with the Republic’s reformation. “Why should I expect any different?”
Hunter looks torn between extending the issue and bowing down in defeat. He struggles for words, and Tech knows better than to let his older brother say the first thing that comes to his mouth. “Give us a moment.” He quietly requests. “I will not be long.”
“...We’ll come back.” Hunter repeats, slowly, softly. He must be thinking about Crosshair…Then he simply turns and begins to pick his way back toward the ship.
Tech watches his brother go, then refocuses his attention on Cody. He tilts his head, consideringly, as the reg refuses to meet his gaze. At a long moment of silence, he reaches his right arm down and pulls a blaster pistol from its holster. The other man flinches, no doubt expecting to get executed or something. But Tech’s no killer, and Saw Gerrera’s taught him a thing or two about second chances.
“You helped me when I cut off my finger, did you not?” He reminds him. “I could never leave you for dead after that. I suppose that you could consider this me finally returning the favor.”
Cody doesn’t respond, even as the Batch’s engineer flips around the pistol so that the handle is extended down to him in a peace offering.
“You may need this. There are many species unique to Yavin 4 that may not agree with your temporary residence.” He lets a moment of silence pass between them. “I trust that you will still be alive when we return for you?”
The ex-Marshal Commander finally looks up at him, meets his gaze with a resigned, almost-regretful look in his eyes, takes the pistol and rests it beside him on the crate. His voice holds a surprising tone of subdued respect. “We’ll see what happens.”
And Tech can only nod in response, returning the respect himself. He doesn’t bid his farewell- there’s no need to, not really. Because Cody will be here when they return to relieve him of his own chip, will be waiting for them. He knows it.
He holds Cody’s gaze for but a moment, then turns away, his feet carrying him back towards the Havoc Marauder. Because Clone Force 99 has work to do, and it won’t do itself.
The sun shines through the leaves behind him, and Cody’s armor glows beneath it. There’s a light in every dark spot. It simply just needs to be found. They found Cody’s. Next is Crosshair's- and then, maybe, the Empire's.
Work to do, indeed.
“I’ve thought about what you said.” Hunter tells him, later on. “And I think you’re right. We’ll give Cid another chance.”
And it turns out to be what’s best.
They’re finally developing a new flow to how they operate, now, and it’s not entirely unwelcome. Adapting to a new way of life, while not easy, is not quite as impossible as it’s made out to be. And they can work with that- Clone Force 99 was bred to adapt. So, that’s what they do.