Chapter Text
Prologue
Tech took a moment to breathe. The pain in his shoulder made it difficult to think, but he forced himself to focus anyway. His first plan had been that he'd die to save his squad. And he was at peace with it. But it was a long, long way down, and he had time to think of a second plan, not that he required a long time. He knew that to survive such a fall, he'd have to slow his velocity, perhaps put something between himself and the ground, and even possibly aim for trees. He changed his body position to face the ground far below, arms and legs spread. This slowed his velocity. He unclipped the line from his belt and turned toward the remains of the railcar that was falling. He pulled his arms and legs in, which sped him toward the wreckage. He caught the structure and managed to get to the top of it. Once there, he looked for trees. There were many very tall trees closing fast. If he timed it right, he could jump or perhaps grapple to them and further slow his fall.
The grapple had worked. At first. But the thin limbs at the tops of the trees broke when he tried to pull himself to them. So he jumped. Those thin limbs broke at his approach, but he'd banked on that. They would slow his fall gradually as the limbs below became stronger. And they had. Eventually they arrested his fall completely. And painfully.
He was face down on a bed of intertwined branches. Intertwined with other branches and his body. His left elbow was wrenched high behind him, and the force of the fall had pulled his shoulder nearly out of the socket. That was the greatest source of pain. The branches that fell away as they broke under his weight had also ripped at any outer surface. So his armor was all scratched up, as were all the spaces between the plates of armor. Which meant he was scratched up. But all told, he was alive and that was something.
He carefully flipped the screen down on his helmet, but it was cracked and split diagonally. It couldn't tell him the distance to the ground. Not that he could climb down if his shoulder dislocated, though he absolutely hoped to give it a try once he got his arm unstuck. He slipped his helmet off, held it over a gap in the branches about a half meter to his right, and dropped it, counting the seconds until he heard it clatter on the ground. It wasn't a thunk. It clattered. That meant rocks. And it took far too long to hit them.
Alright, he thought. One problem at a time. His comm was on his left hip. So he couldn't call for the others. He had to get his arm loose. He tried rolling to the right, hoping to raise the left side of his body enough to try and work his arm free. But the branches had their own ideas. He realized too late that his focus had been lacking, and that, by turning, he'd changed his weight distribution on the branches. The branches beneath him snapped and he fell again. While his left arm did oblige to come with him, he'd felt the pop when it slipped out of its socket. The branches became bigger and stronger, and that would stop one part of his body only for another to keep falling. Even in the armor, it knocked the wind out of him. The twigs and needles scratched at his face. He lost all control as he was thrown this way and that as he continued downward. He tried to cover his face, but the branches ripped at his arms as he involuntarily flailed on his way down. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best as his whole body began to vie for painful attention.
And for one brief moment, there were no branches, no twigs, no needles. But there were rocks. He hit them on his back and rolled downward. He scrunched his eyes tightly when his head hit a sharp one, and the lenses of his goggles cracked and splintered. His vision was blurry after that, but there wasn't much point to watching anyway. He tried again to shield his head with his right arm, but the rocks flipped him and rolled him until he finally skidded to a stop, face down in the gravel-strewn grass. He took in one gasp of breath and coughed out blood, then everything went black and he felt no more.
"Team One, report," the lieutenant ordered. He was standing in the now ruined command center, working with a portable communications set.
"We pursued the insurgents from the wrecked railcar, four individuals. They escaped on a modified Omicron shuttle."
The lieutenant sighed in exasperation. "Team Two?"
"We have located the wrecked railcar. No survivors, no bodies." There was a pause. "Wait, TK-4644 has found something. A helmet. Clone trooper but nonstandard, highly specialized."
"Find the clone that lost it."
Dr. Hemlock had been observing quietly in the back of the command center once the summit was ended and the blast doors lifted. A homing beacon had been found in the wreckage of his transport. The explosions had saved the secrecy of his lab and work at Mount Tantiss. He replayed, in his mind, Team Two's report. Clone trooper helmet, nonstandard, highly specialized. Clone Force 99 had nonstandard helmets. Perhaps they'd traced him here to find their lost companion.
He returned to the hangar now and ordered the troopers of the last remaining shuttle to get him down to where Team Two had found the helmet.
By the time they'd helped him walk up the steep, rocky terrain, Team Two had found the owner of the helmet. And it was alive. Hemlock smirked. It was just as he'd hoped. He carried with him an emergency medpac from the shuttle. He pushed the troopers away and knelt beside the prone clone. It was lying unconscious, face down, and its breaths were wheezy. Hemlock was actually impressed it wasn't dead already. He carefully turned the body over, which wrenched its left arm behind and under its body in an unnatural position. Dislocation. The broken goggles on its face gave away its identity. Hemlock had passed the time during his trip here by learning more about Crosshair's 'brothers.' This was CT-9902, "Tech." Tech was the brains of the outfit. Enhanced intelligence and analytical reasoning, outstanding skill with technology of any kind. That could be ever so useful in the right context.
He tugged the arm out from under the body and opened his kit. He ran a scanner over the body. Critical condition. Skull fracture was troubling. There was a small branch or stick protruding from the right side of the body, and the scan confirmed it had managed to find a way between the armor plates and the ribs to puncture a lung. Also troubling. The brain needed a living body. This one was going to need help to stay living. Other injuries included various limb fractures, internal bleeding, and a severely crimped spinal column. If it weren't about to die, it would likely be paralyzed from the waist down.
He removed the ruined goggles and placed a breather over its nose and mouth. He cut away the armor and cast it aside as he ordered two soldiers back to the shuttle for a stretcher and blanket. He ordered two more to collect the armor and the helmet.
The leader of Team Two approached. "Governor Tarkin wants to know if it can be questioned."
"Negative," Hemlock replied. "The clone is unconscious and barely alive. I will take it to my lab and get what I can from it before it expires. And tell Tarkin there were two groups of insurgents. Clone Force 99 wouldn't have planted a beacon on my ship only to blow it up. They wanted to track me to my lab. They didn't set the bombs."
He returned his attention to the clone. He cut the underclothing away as well and sprayed the body's core and head with bacta spray. The two troopers returned with the stretcher. Hemlock handed the bacta sprayer to the next closest soldier. "Spray its back when I turn it." Then Hemlock carefully turned the body onto its ruined left shoulder. The soldier sprayed. Hemlock nodded to the stretcher, and it was placed beneath the body before Hemlock lowered it. He reached into his kit once more. He started a fluid injector and attached it to a large vein in the body's right arm. That done, he covered the body with an antishock blanket up to its neck then strapped it down to the stretcher.
He stood. The troopers lifted the stretcher, and they started their difficult walk back to the shuttle with Hemlock's new prize. If he managed to keep this clone alive, he could potentially advance his cloning research exponentially. He'd read up on all the members of Clone Force 99. One of them was a 'reg,' a nonmutant clone. CT-1409, "Echo," had been made a mutant by the Techno Union on Skako Minor. They'd hooked his brain up to their computer defense network and kept the clone armies at bay, until Clone Force 99's irregular tactics, along with Jedi tricks, recovered him. Well, if the Techno Union could manage that with a 'reg,' Hemlock reckoned he could do better with a genetically-enhanced brain like Tech's.
He ordered the shuttle's navigation be set to Mount Tantiss as he worked to keep Tech alive.
Chapter One
Emerie Karr checked on each of her patients before the end of her shift. Crosshair was her main concern. Dr. Hemlock had ordered severe punishment for his escape attempt. He'd killed eight troopers and damaged property even half-sedated. Though she suspected the property damage was due to the sedation. She knew Crosshair's mutations. He wouldn't normally miss. She hoped to keep him here, in her infirmary, as long as possible.
Still, she'd had to release three of the other men. Hemlock would be free to run his experiments on them. She sighed as she entered the galley. She missed Kamino. It was light with wide corridors; here everything was dark and gray. She filled her tray with food and took it back to her quarters. She didn't like to eat with the others. It was better to hide herself away when not on duty.
She missed the Republic. She missed having leaders who were at least sympathetic, even if they made bad decisions sometimes. But since Palpatine had ended the Republic and created the Empire, every officer and scientist she'd worked with had been immoral to some extent. She'd found most to be self-centered, power-hungry narcissists.
She didn't like the way the Clone Army was being cast aside either. They had defended the Republic, and now they were simply thought of as property to be exploited at best and disposed of at worst. She remembered Hemlock from her studies. It was her Medical Ethics class. He was a case study. He was expelled from the Republic Science Corps due to his unorthodox and disturbing experiments. Now she was assigned to work with him. And Scalder wasn't much better.
But it was no use dwelling on what was lost. The Empire was taking over the galaxy. She couldn't change it. Crosshair couldn't change it. She'd been honest with him. Even if he managed to get outside, the hounds would have chased him down. But, of course, he hadn't made it outside. He was one man against the dozens stationed here. And she was just one doctor. To work against the Empire was futile. It would only end in pain and, most likely, death.
She finished her dinner, then retrieved the medical journal she'd been reading. It helped her get to sleep.
Hemlock had thought to remove the stick, but it was quite stubborn. It would have to be surgically removed. The emergency medpac's scanner couldn't identify the source of the internal bleeding. It could be the lung, but it could be many other things, some of which were fatal. On the one hand, he wouldn't lose anything if this clone died. But if it lived, he'd gain so much.
The clone was as stable as he could make it. He put in a call to Scalder to have her and Dr. Karr prepare a surgical table and full life support. Then he sat at the computer and called up everything the Kaminoans had on CT-1409's recovery. The device it had been installed in had been blown up after its release, so the data from Skako Minor was lost. Still, it was the Kaminoans who had removed much of the interface from CT-1409's body. So he had something to work with. There were still a few hours before they'd be in the Weyland system. He needed to know everything he could about how the Techno Union did it, and then he had to design a better interface. Tech couldn't be just a drugged-up container for a brain. He wanted Tech's conscious cooperation. CT-9904 might be motivation enough, but he surmised that Omega would be better. Nala Se wasn't the only one with an attachment.
Hunter felt sick. Tech was dead and Omega was hurt. He and Wrecker weren't in much better shape. Tech gave his life to save them. There was no way he could've survived a fall at that height. They had barely survived, and they had fallen from less than half the height Tech had fallen from. Hunter had never lost anyone before. They'd lost Crosshair but he was still alive. With Tech, it was like there was a hole in his chest he couldn't fill. Tech was their hacker, their analyst, their brother. He helped them all in countless ways. Plan 99. It was so like Tech to weigh the odds and find the one way out.
"Docking in thirty," Echo said. He turned around. "I'm not sure this is the right place to go."
"We need AZI," Wrecker argued. "Who else would know how to treat her?"
Hunter's ribs hurt, but he stood. "We're nearly there. It would take longer to go anywhere else. She needs help now."
Echo nodded and turned back to the helm.
Hunter kept playing it over in his mind. He wanted to undo it. To go back in time and find a different way out. Maybe if Tech had stayed on the terminal, they could have gotten to the ship then picked him up. But no, they still would have crashed and fallen. The ships might have shot him. Maybe if he'd used his grappler. But no, the cars were being pulled from the line. It would only have gotten him to the part that was breaking off. Hunter didn't want it to be real, but it was. They were hurt and Tech was dead. All through the war, they'd not lost each other. He didn't know how to do this.
It was Saw's fault. They had planted the beacon. If Saw hadn't set off the bombs, the railcars wouldn't have gotten stuck. Tech wouldn't have had to get out and start them up again. They could all have gotten out. They could have tracked Hemlock back to where he was holding Crosshair. They could have all been together again.
The ship lowered into the hangar. Wrecker stood and picked up Omega. Hunter got up and waited by the ramp.
"I'll stay here," Echo offered. "I'll keep the ship ready, just in case. Stay on comms."
They landed. Hunter nodded and opened the ramp, and he and Wrecker hurried to Cid's parlor.
"Well look who the Bantha dragged in," Cid said from behind the bar. "What's wrong with the girl?"
"We need AZI," Hunter replied.
"I will do everything I can," the droid responded. He set the bottle he'd been holding down and led them to the office. "Lay her here."
Cid poked her head in. "You're missing someone. Where's Goggles?"
"Tech didn't—" Hunter started to reply. But it hurt too much to say it.
"Oh," she replied. "I'm sorry," And she did sound sorry. "I'll leave you to it."
"You are injured as well," AZI told him.
"Omega first," Wrecker told the droid.
"Understood."
Hunter dropped into a chair and watched without really seeing anything. Tech was gone and he couldn't lose Omega, too. He couldn't.
Emerie yawned as she returned to the infirmary. They hadn't had any use for the surgical suite before. She used her access card to open the prep room. She had to wash and suit up. She hadn't expected to see Scalder there.
"Dr. Hemlock sent over the patient's scan. Skull fracture, punctured lung, internal bleeding. He stated that it's imperative the patient survives. They'll be here within the hour."
Emerie thought about the equipment they'd need as she washed her hands. Scalder finished before her and helped her tie her surgical gown. Emerie returned the favor for her. They stepped into the suite. "Do we know who the patient is?"
"No. It's a clone," Scalder replied. She started pulling the sedatives and prepping the breather. "He didn't elaborate further."
Emerie wondered why Hemlock was so determined to keep a clone alive if they were just Imperial property, but she kept that thought to herself as she set out scalpels, clamps, gauze, forceps, and micro sutures.
They were ready and waiting when the door opened again. She and Scalder had to retrieve the patient as Hemlock washed and suited up. Scalder started a deep scan and Emerie looked over the patient. This was not one of the usual clones. He was thinner, with a narrow face, and lighter skin and hair. This was one of Crosshair's brothers. It had been a long time since she'd seen Clone Force 99's records. But this one wasn't big enough to be Wrecker, and he didn't have the tattoos. So this was Tech. If Hemlock had found Tech, how had he not found Omega? Was he hoping to heal Tech just to torture him for information on the girl?
Tech was pale and unconscious. Emerie removed the portable breather from his face and started to intubate. Scalder replaced the field fluid injector with an IV. "It's already unconscious," Scalder pointed out. "No need to waste resources."
"He's unconscious now," Emerie argued. The thought appalled her, but she kept her voice even and her face neutral. "He could wake up in the middle of surgery. The shock alone could kill him."
"Under no circumstances is this patient to expire." Hemlock's voice came from behind them. They both stepped back for him. "Start it on light sedation and increase it if it shows signs of waking."
"Yes, Doctor," Scalder replied. She started to put a cuff on Tech's left arm.
"Use the right," Hemlock told her. "The dislocation could interfere with proper blood flow." There was a beep as the scan completed. "Ah, looks like that stick hit more than a lung. Dr. Karr, you're on the skull fracture. Scalder, you and I will open the chest and remove the flora."
Emerie found the skull fracture and used a scalpel to open the skin so she could align the sides and seal it up. Scalder and Hemlock were still in Tech's chest when she finished. The scan had also noted a hairline fracture of Tech's left orbit, a dislocated left shoulder, a compressed spinal column, and fractures in most of the bones of his other limbs. Even his hands and fingers. There were a lot of scratches on his face and certain areas of his skin, likely where there hadn't been armor. They were healing though. Hemlock must have used bacta in the field. "Do we know what caused these injuries?"
"It would appear it fell from a height of nearly three kilometers into trees approximately one kilometer in height and then onto some rather large rocks." Hemlock chuckled. "Had it been any of the other three, I'd have let it die. But this one, this one is going to help us achieve the emperor's objective."
Why would Tech want to help the cloning experiments? He'd either been hiding from or fighting against the Empire. "I can start reducing the dislocation and setting the fractures straight."
"Don't bother," Hemlock told her. "Monitor its vitals. I need its mind, not its limbs. Fractures won't kill it. Though infection might. Monitor its vitals and load an antibacterial agent."
Emerie was stunned, but she hid it. "Yes, Doctor." He was going to leave Tech broken and expect him to help his project? It didn't make any sense. It wasn't why she became a doctor. She wanted to relieve suffering. This was willfully allowing it to continue. No wonder he'd been expelled.
It took two hours to complete the surgery, and Tech showed no signs of waking. That was a mercy at least. He wasn't in any pain at the moment.
"Let's move it to Critical Care," Hemlock ordered. "I've requisitioned some new equipment. CT-9902 here needs to be monitored around the clock. Work out the shifts between you." He stripped off his gloves.
It was up to Emerie and Scalder then to transfer Tech to the Critical Care apparatus. He was still to be intubated. Scalder connected the breather and then started to insert the feeding tube. Emerie connected the IVs for fluids and blood. Tech had lost a lot in surgery. He was getting fuller breaths now. His vitals were stable.
"I like nights," Scalder said. "I'll take first shift. Midnight to midday."
Emerie nodded. She was wide awake now. "Midday to midnight is fine. Though I might need a stim. I was sleeping when the call came."
"Good, I'll relieve you at midnight," Scalder said. She took off her gloves and gown and walked away, leaving Emerie alone with Tech. She set the monitor to alert her of any change in vitals or consciousness then went to where Crosshair was lying.
"We have one of your brothers now," she told him quietly, knowing he couldn't hear her. "Maybe they'll let you see him once he wakes."
Two rotations later, Tech was still fully unconscious and Hemlock was leaving. He smiled and said he'd be back with a gift for Nala Se. And he reiterated that no one but the three of them were to know about CT-9902's existence in Critical Care.
Emerie guessed he was going after the girl. And it hadn't required torturing Crosshair more or Tech waking up. Emerie wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't care one way or another about the cloning project. She wanted to keep the clones alive. That was her personal mission. They were her patients. She wasn't a scientist. She was a physician. She didn't know what Hemlock had planned for Tech, but it probably wasn't good. Maybe he'd stay comatose for weeks or months or years.
Still with twelve hours and no doctor Hemlock, she decided to practice her profession. She started small. She aligned the bones in Tech's left index finger. He didn't so much as twitch. She wanted to take him back to surgery, turn him over, and alleviate the spinal compression. As it was, she managed to slip the various pieces of a spine stabilizer under Tech and activate it so they'd connect. He wouldn't be able to move his back and injure himself further if he did wake. Once that was done, she still had eight more hours. She worked on more of his fingers. She couldn't splint them without drawing attention. But she let them sit in bowls of bacta for a few hours. She'd have to have them all dried off by the time Scalder came to relieve her. His legs and arms were starting to swell, though. She decided she'd suggest reducing the fractures when Hemlock returned. Leaving the breaks could lead to infection and antibacterial agents could only do so much.
For now, she put cold compresses over the breaks and checked his hands to see if they were dry. She put her hand on Tech's head. "I'm sorry I can't do more today. Maybe tomorrow."
Hunter had no ideas about where to start looking. He looked to Wrecker, who held Tech's broken goggles in his hands. They'd lost Tech and now they'd lost Omega, too. And they still didn't know what Hemlock wanted her for. Maybe Crosshair was right. Maybe he was a terrible leader.
"Maybe we should go to Pabu," Echo suggested. "We need to heal. I'll contact Rex, see if his contacts can dig up anything. Senator Chuchi may be able to find something more on Hemlock."
"What do we tell Phee?" Wrecker asked, still looking down at the goggles.
It had been clear to everyone except Tech that Phee had been flirting with him. What if she really cared for him?
"We tell her the truth," Echo replied. "Losing Tech.… I lost a lot of brothers. Most of my first squad. Others in the 501st. I've been through this. It hurts but we will survive it. We need to be strong and healthy if we're to rescue Omega and Crosshair."
And kill Cid, Hunter added silently. And maybe Saw Gerrera. He just nodded.
Phee was waiting with Shep when they docked. She must have read their faces.
"What's happened?" she asked. "Where's Omega?"
"Cid betrayed us," Hunter told her. "They took her."
"And Brown Eyes?"
Hunter shook his head. That pain in his chest flared again. Wrecker handed her the goggles. That was enough. She gasped in horror then turned to Shep, who held her.
"You can stay with me," Shep told them. "You're injured."
Phee let go of him and walked away. Shep guided them to a room with a couple of beds. Wrecker sat down on one. He looked lost. Hunter felt lost.
"Please lie back and rest," AZI said. "I will scan you for new injuries."
Hunter lay back but he couldn't rest. He couldn't close his eyes without imagining Tech hitting the ground or seeing Hemlock's ship take off with Omega.
"I'll go to Coruscant," Echo told them. "I'll come back as soon as I can. Maybe I'll stop by Eriadu, see if I can find him. Give him a proper burial."
"Here," Wrecker said. "He liked it here."
Hunter now imagined Tech's body decaying in his armor. Still, he wanted him here, too. He just nodded again.
Echo left. Shep stayed. "Everyone here has lost someone," he told them. "Lyana's mother." He sighed. "If you need anything, just ask." He left and shut the door.
Hunter let AZI tend to him as he stared blindly at the ceiling.
Omega didn't understand. This woman was a clone? She was wearing an Imperial uniform. Why was she helping Hemlock, and why did she look so much older? She thought she was the only female clone. "Why should I believe you? You're working for them."
"I'm working with them," the woman told her. "There's a difference. I don't condone everything they do, but there's no point fighting against it. I tried to tell Crosshair that."
"Why's he even here?" Omega retorted. "He was loyal to the Empire."
"His last commanding officer might argue," the woman replied, "if Crosshair hadn't shot him. Apparently, he had a change of heart. He tried to warn you. What is plan 88?"
Omega didn't think it mattered if she told that one. "Hide, we're being targeted."
"Apparently, you didn't hide."
"We wanted to rescue Crosshair and find out what Hemlock wanted with me. What does he want with me?" Maybe when Crosshair woke up, she and he could work out a plan to get another message out.
"Dr. Hemlock wants Nala Se's assistance with a project. You're here so she'll comply."
Omega still wasn't sure she could trust this woman. But the last part sounded true. "What do you do here?"
"I'm a doctor. I treat the wounded. And I try to keep clones like Crosshair alive. May I scan you for injuries?"
"AZI already treated me." She hoped AZI had found Echo. And that Echo had freed Hunter and Wrecker. She looked at Crosshair again. He didn't know about Tech. "You going to strap me down to one of your tables like this?"
"I hope I won't need to," the woman said. She pulled out a portable scanner from her pocket. "AZI did a decent job," she said. "My name is Emerie, by the way, and I think we can do a little better. Follow me please."
Omega followed her. She did hurt still. Her head, mostly, but also her stomach. But how much of that was her injuries and how much was Tech and her worry over the others? Everything had gone wrong since Eriadu. They lost Tech—They left him there!—they crashed, Cid turned them in, and she was caught and maybe Hunter and Wrecker, too.
Emerie led her to an empty bed and helped her onto it. She didn't strap her down. "What did you do on Kamino?" she asked.
"I helped Nala Se. I want to see her."
"She is here," Emerie replied. "But that's up to the doctor. Maybe you can help me here in the infirmary. I'm sure these clones could use a friendly face." She loaded up an injector and put it to Omega's arm. "Just medicine." Her datapad started beeping. She pulled it from her pocket.
"What's that?" Omega asked sharply.
"Critical Care. Lie still and let the machine work. You'll feel better in a few hours."
She left Omega and used her access card to enter Critical Care. Tech's eyelids were trying to open. He made weak movements, and he was fighting the breather.
She put her hand on his forehead. "Please, lie still. You'll only hurt yourself. Breathe normally. You sustained multiple injuries."
His eyes opened and locked onto hers, though they were still glassy. He was semiconscious at best. But he stopped moving. "You're in Critical Care," she told him. "I'm Emerie, one of the doctors here. I'm sure you have many questions. But you're intubated. Let the machine help you breathe."
His broken hands were shaking, but his breaths calmed. She added some pain meds to his IV. His eyelids tried to close but he forced them open.
"Go ahead and rest." She touched his forehead again. "I'm sure all your questions will be answered once you're fully awake. Sleep."
She reluctantly left him as his eyes closed again. She hadn't wanted him to wake up. Not for a long time yet. Now she had to inform Dr. Hemlock.