Chapter Text
The Marauder sat silently in her home base in the heart of Ord Mantell, the light coming from her opened ramp contrasting sharply with the darkness that had befallen the old, unkempt docking station as the night progressed. She hadn’t seen any action in a few days, the damage from the action her occupants of defective clones put her through on a regular basis having needed to be attended to before she fell apart entirely. Truth was, there was still quite a bit of work to be done, but it was all fluff that wouldn’t impede her from functioning well enough to perform her core functions. Shuttling her keepers around the galaxy as they took on gigs to get paid enough so they could feed themselves, to be exact.
Right now, they were gathered in the cockpit, discussing yet another one of those jobs that would pay them enough to set them up for another few weeks of food and supplies. Or, rather, they were supposed to—something else came up that had completely taken over their collective train of thought. That it and of itself wasn’t abnormal; in fact, it happened often—but the circumstances that led to this particular occurrence was new to all of them.
“Cid sent along food for us,” Hunter explained as he dropped a smelly paper bag on the closest control panel. From the way his nose twisted, it wasn’t hard to tell that the unholy concoction of odors coming off of the takeout was bothering him enough that he could barely keep it together. “Said that this gig might take a bit and that we’ll be hungry.”
“I would argue that this is the most generous that she has been to us yet,” observed Tech, his gaze remaining firmly glued to his datapad. “In addition to our pay, she has included a meal for each of us.”
Echo stepped around the panel, hovering above the bag like it was a grenade about to explode in his face. “Why does it smell so weird though?” He raised a cautious arm, poking at a grease stain that was starting to soak through. “Hunter?”
“You’ve had her cooking before. You know it’s not dangerous, it’s just… different,” Hunter said, his nose still wrinkled up like a raisin.
Wrecker didn’t have such qualms and elbowed Echo out of the way to dig into the package. “Who cares! It’s free grub!” he laughed, pulling out the first container to peer inside. Omega was at his side, trying to squish her way into the circle of clones that had surrounded the console so that she could get a better look.
“She didn’t send along anything with weird textures, did she?” she asked as Wrecker handed her one of the containers to look at, glancing up at Hunter and casting him a cautious look. The poor kid was always looking out for the lot of them, no matter how frivolous the given issue could be. It reminded Echo painfully of Fives. So many things about her did.
“I guess we’ll find out in a minute,” Echo said, taking another container out of Wrecker’s hands. “I mean, between me, Hunter and Tech, she’s heard enough complaints to know better by now. I’d be surprised if she did do that, honestly.”
“I would not be surprised if she has reached her breaking point on the matter and sent along something with an unpleasant mouthfeel specifically to spite us,” said Tech as he finally raised his eyes to glare at a container that Hunter was holding out to him. “We do know how… talkative she can get when it comes to her cooking.”
‘Talkative’ was definitely putting it lightly. Omega hadn’t been around when Cid had first yelled at them over the matter, so she barely held herself back. The cranky trandoshan respected their needs and accommodated them, of course, but she had made her opinion loud and clear; she loathed when people complained about her cooking, no matter the reason. Echo had learned a few new swear words that day – all in different languages, no less – and he had been waiting for a perfect moment to utilize them himself. Hunter and Wrecker hated it when anyone cussed in Omega’s presence – as if she probably hadn’t heard any explicit language from observing other troopers already – so it had been admittedly more difficult to achieve than he expected.
Nonetheless, Tech’s words startled Echo. It wasn’t typical for their youngest brother to be so pessimistic. “Geeze, Tech, what’s gotten into you?”
“He’s prolly just tired from all the work he did on the ship,” said Wrecker as he raised the container up to his face, tipping food into his mouth as if he was drinking out of a bowl.
Tech pointed his fiery gaze at him. “Which would have gone more smoothly if you had helped Echo and myself.”
Hunter suddenly grabbed the bag with a renewed vigor, catching everyone’s attention. “Enough of that; you’re all making my headache worse.” He stuffed the container he was holding back into the bag—the multiple stressors that had been assaulting his senses over the past few minutes likely killed his appetite. Echo would have to bully him into eating at least something before they turned in for the night.
After making sure his boys – and Omega, though it wasn’t necessary on her part – were standing at attention, Hunter pulled up a holo of a planet on the console, casting a blue glow throughout the room. “Our next job’s taking us to Llannic.” He cast his gaze over to Tech, nodding at him—silently giving him permission to supply further details. Tech was the only other one present when Cid gave them this mission and had likely already compiled all the relevant information for it.
“Llanic is situated on the intersection of two hyperspace lanes: the Llanic Spice Route and the Triellus Trade Route. As such, it is a popular location for many goods, both legal and illicit, to pass through trading posts and be distributed across different planets in the region.”
Hunter nodded. “We’re going to pick up some goods from one of these trading posts to bring to Cid’s client.”
“A smash and grab!” Wrecker exclaimed, punching a fist into his other hand, “I’m likin’ this already!”
Tech huffed, “We are trying to avoid conflict if necessary. We have been told that the goods must be handled with care if they are to remain intact.” That, as expected, earned a groan out of Wrecker, which, in turn, made Omega giggle.
“We wouldn’t actually be stealing it anyway,” Hunter clarified as he zoomed in on the coordinates of the specific outpost they were tasked to go to. “The owners of the facility know we’re coming for it. If everything goes well, we’ll be in and out of there in no time at all. Which is good, because the populace is allegedly a shady bunch.”
Echo grinned widely and said, “What did you expect from a planet that’s along a spice running route?” which earned him a rather intense glare from Hunter. Just as intended.
Omega was now wriggling in-between Hunter and Tech in attempts to look more closely at the outpost the holo was focused on. “What are we picking up anyway?” she asked, voicing the next question that was on Echo’s mind, though he knew the likely answer already. Fives and himself, being ARC troopers, had played the sole security for a few critical planet-side cargo shipments for the Republic—though they were never allowed to know just what was being transferred that deemed highly-trained security detail such as themselves. Cargo missions for Cid often operated on similar terms, fishy though they were in nature. Client confidentiality was the specific phrase she always used, though Echo could understand the need for it in this case. People needed privacy; clones were no different.
With a shrug, Hunter no doubt confirmed what they had all been thinking. “No idea kiddo. She did say that I would smell it as soon as we touched down, though.”
Echo looked down in thought. That was an—interesting detail, to say the least. Cid knew of their genetic enhancements – and Echo’s lack thereof – to a degree, enough to piece together details about their talents and skillsets so that she could give them “appropriate” gigs (most often they turned out to be anything but thanks to either the details she left out or something going incredibly wrong). Hunter’s enhancements were very specialized, meaning that he didn’t get to use them to his advantage on Cid’s missions often, unless they got into a fight. So for him to be using his extraordinary senses for something other than combat for once must have been a refreshing opportunity to behold.
Apparently Hunter thought otherwise though, as he shook his head, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not looking forward to it, though. If she thinks this smells fine, imagine what those goods smell like.”
“Cid’s client will be waiting for us on Ryloth, which is the only reason that the goods are situated on Llanic; the planet is one of the closest trading hubs in the region. The time it will take to get to Llanic is the only reason why this mission will be so long and likely why Cid has provided us food.” Tech picked through his meal with a fork as he spoke, brows furrowed in apparent concentration. Likely studying the mysterious pile of grease that Cid stuffed into those containers, Echo figured. He himself had tried some, and it tasted fine – albeit, it certainly wasn’t something that he would ask for in the future – with no disgusting textures to speak of. Hunter and Tech were a little more cautious about it than he had always been, though, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Tech to be a little more thorough in the investigation of his food.
Clearing his throat to make them all stand at attention again, Hunter turned off the holo and proceeded to address them in his Sergeant Voice. “We’ll start to ship out then—like Tech said, it’s gonna take a while to get there and we should take the opportunity to rest and prepare. I’ll take first watch; all of you go clean yourselves up and get some rest. Dismissed.”
Tech had gotten the Marauder up in the air and into hyperspace not long after, but he declined to follow his sergeant’s orders to clean up and sleep. His ship still had some issues to be attended to and he would be a fool to not attend to the ones he could while they traveled. He let his hands guide him as he worked, getting lost in the motions of rewiring panels and buttons so that he could drown out Hunter’s continued protests to get him to sleep.
Eventually Hunter gave up, delving the cockpit into silence. Omega and Echo’s quiet voices were floating in from the back of the ship, and he let the soft, dreamy feeling drifting through the cockpit lull him into further focus before it would inevitably make him drowsy and fall asleep. He had drifted off in worse places before; he’d be fine.
The next few days in hyperspace found them following a comforting routine of exercising, repairing the ship where they could, going over their strategy for this mission and playing various card games. Tech held onto the familiarity like a lifeline, cherishing the sense of normalcy it brought him. He had never done well with change, compared to his older brothers. The perpetual unease he had felt since that day on Kaller, where everything changed, never truly went away.
All good things must come to an end, unfortunately, so towards the tail end of his journey, he focused more of his time on his repairs, going over the plan they had all come up with in his mind as he worked. Things would be fine; they’ve been doing relatively well with the gigs Cid has provided them with so far – barring that the lack of details for most of them often led to unappreciated chaos in one form or another – and they were able to come out unscathed from most of them.
His own comforting reassurance eased his trembling fingers as he refocused his attention on the small ventilation shaft he was working on at the floor. This particular section of the HVAC system contained a few of the air filtration systems and had an access hatch so that they could be accessed in case of issues. The hinge on the hatch had rusted through and prevented the door from opening smoothly. Inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things—it was why Tech had saved this to be one of the last things he addressed on the journey. Besides, if it got any worse, it might cause the hatch to get stuck closed. And that wouldn’t do.
Just as he did a few nights ago, he allowed the calming ambiance of the ship as his siblings settled down for the night soothe him into his work, getting lost in the rhythm of disassembling the hatch and scrubbing the metal with a rust-repellent solution he had devised himself. It was a relatively clean and dry implementation, even if it did require extra time and effort on his part for it to take effect.
He might have found himself relaxing a little too much in his work, however—and, as he tended to do when he stayed up late into the night cycle to work on a project, he unknowingly drifted off where he was situated.
Metal footsteps bounced around his head and Tech blinked open his eyes, blearily looking around for what had disturbed him from his sleep. Echo was knelt in front of the vents, reattaching the hatch. Tech hummed in protest, shifting to get up, but Echo placed his scomp arm on his shoulder, keeping him pinned down. “The ship was complaining about the air filtration not being optimal. Now I see why.”
Tech didn’t need to look up to see the smug grin that was on Echo’s face; his tone of voice told plenty. “I got this. Go back to sleep vod’ika; Force knows you’re gonna need it for tomorrow.”
Tech was already heading that way, sleep heavily weighing down on his limbs. The last thing he was vaguely aware of was his goggles being slipped over his forehead to be deposited on the floor beside him.
Omega bounded into the cockpit, the swirling blues of hyperspace still bathing it in a bright swathe of light. Hunter and Wrecker were debating about something while Echo was in the back of the ship somewhere, still getting his armor on.
They were going to reach Llanic today, and there was a palpable anxiety, just as much as there was excitement spreading throughout the ship’s atmosphere. Despite her brothers’ disinclination to bring Omega into dangerous situations, she had always appreciated that she was brought along anyways. Since the lead up to the clone wars, this is what she had always wanted to do. Go along on adventures with her brothers, see the galaxy—she didn’t regret leaving Kamino and all of its storms behind for a second.
Taking notice of her presence, Hunter smiled at her, waving her over to his and Wrecker’s side. “Mornin’ kid. You remember what you’re gonna be doing today, right?”
“Stay close and don’t let any of you out of my sight,” she recited as she straightened up. “If we get separated, comm you immediately.”
His dark eyes sparkled in pride and he squeezed her shoulder. “Atta girl.”
Feeling a blush come over her face from the praise, Omega turned around to hide it—in time to see Gonky waddle into the cockpit. The droid was honking quite enthusiastically, and Echo trailed in behind him, lips turned up in a slight smile.
“Gonky’s requesting permission to go wake up Tech, Sarge?”
Right, Tech wasn’t up yet. He was up late again last night, working on repairing smaller things in the Marauder. His dedication to what was essentially their home was admirable, of course—if only he didn’t get a little too dedicated. His neck and back would certainly appreciate it; he’s fallen asleep in just about anywhere but his own cot at this point.
Omega turned to Hunter, who was chuckling. “Yeah, yeah; go ahead. Tell him he’s late.”
Gonky gave another honk and turned around, shuffling back out of the cockpit. Omega didn’t have to ask to figure out that they weren’t actually late and that they were just trying to get a rise out of Tech.
“I haven’t had my morning workout yet, and since Gonky’s not here…” Wrecker trailed off and looked over to Omega, a glint in his eyes that already had Omega trying to hold in her giggles—her brothers backed up a bit, clearly trying – and failing – to not smile, knowing what was coming. Barely a second later he bolted out of the co-pilot’s seat and grabbed her under the arms before she could make a run for it. He hefted Omega up into the air and if Tech wasn’t awake yet, the ensuing squeals she let out certainly would make sure he was.
Gonky stopped in front of the prone form of Tech, considering him with a soft honk. He had been living with his clones long enough to know practically everything about them—but why Tech worked himself to exhaustion nearly every other night was still beyond him.
Normally, GNK droids were known to have very docile personalities. Gonky, having spent a good portion of his life around rowdy, defective clones, did not behave as such. Crosshair – when he was still on the team – was often attributed as the one to have the worst influence on the resident power droid, and Gonky was very well aware of that. He loved joining Crosshair in annoying the kriff out of the others, and that included their habit of bugging Tech in the morning until he woke up.
So when Crosshair left, he kept up the tradition, if only as a tribute to the batch’s wayward brother. Tech held onto routine like his life depended on it, after all, so Gonky imagined it probably gave Tech a sense of normalcy in the wake of Crosshair’s absence.
Gonky stepped up closer to Tech, about ready to start nudging a foot into the sleeping clone’s side—when his foot suddenly collided with something on the floor, a loud metallic clang reverberating through the immediate area barely a second later. The sound triggered an interruption in Tech’s soft snoring, and with a snort, his eyes flew open. Startled, his gaze flitted around for a second before landing on Gonky.
“Gonky. Good morning.”
The droid honked an affirmative in response, watching, amused, as Tech fumbled around for a moment, running his hands across the floor around himself, as if searching for something. Probably his goggles, judging by his naked face. It looked so wrong, Gonky noted with a suppressed shudder.
He honked again to let Tech know he was late, and the clone’s eyes flashed in concern. He sighed and got up, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I seem to have misplaced my goggles. Do let me know if you happen upon them,” he said as he left the room.
Gonky honked after him. A new directive, though maybe not an urgent one, judging by how unenthused Tech was about losing the apparatus he needed to see a few inches beyond his face.
Okay, yeah, maybe it was more urgent than Tech let on. Gonky whirled his chassis around, taking a look around the room—spotting the hatch that Tech had been working on the night before. The hatch that covered the air filtration system. The hatch that certainly should have been closed, Echo said that he had closed it earlier, but for some reason it was open again.
He strutted up to the hatch, kicked it once, twice, three times before it finally closed and stayed closed.
Much better.