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Chapter Text

Tech wasn’t a stranger to dangerous situations. In fact, he estimated that the majority of his life could be classified as a ‘dangerous situation’, considering that the Kaminoans had a tendency to decommission clones with defects like his dreadful eyesight at an early age and that he’d spent his adult life involved in a galactic war as part of an elite squad of troopers. Still, he had to admit that dodging enemy fire while running along the rail-line of an air-car was one of the most dangerous he’d ever been in. He’d managed to complete his mission, though. He’d rebooted the system from one of the terminals on the rail-line and had restored power to the rail-line which would allow him and his siblings—Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Omega—to use the car to make a quick exit. All that was left was for him to return to the car and for them to escape.

Simple enough, in theory.

 He could hear the V-wing fighters flying above him and firing.  He didn’t try to catch a glimpse of them. He kept his eyes locked on the two cars as he ran. He also refused to look down at the swirling clouds that barely hid the plummet beneath them. He didn’t need to suffer from acrophobia like Wrecker for that fall to scare him. He was almost to the car. A few more—

 One of the fighters fired a blast and hit the hook that secured their second car to the rail-line. Everything shuddered. Tech slipped. He tried desperately to grab something, but fell too fast. He landed hard on the top of the second car and groaned. But, he couldn’t lie there. He could feel the car moving. He scrambled to his feet but fell back as the car disappeared under him. He barely managed to hook his grapple onto the car before he tumbled. He yelled as he fell for a moment, then jerked suddenly to a stop. For a moment, he swung and looked down at the dizzying gap beneath him. Then, he looked up. His mouth went dry. The hook holding the second car was gone, so the entire weight of both cars rested on the one hook that secured it to the rail-line.

The connection was not designed to hold so much weight.

Tech shuddered and started to climb up the cable.

“Come on, Tech! Hurry!” Wrecker yelled over the comms as he appeared at the edge of the first car.  

“I am climbing as fast as I can,” Tech grunted as he hauled himself upwards.

Tech heard more blaster fire and suddenly he was falling.

One of the TK troopers must have hit the other hook, he rationalised even as he plummeted.

He jerked to a stop again as he heard Hunter yelling at Wrecker to get him on board.

Tech saw Wrecker take a step into the second car. The entire thing shuddered.

“Don’t!” Tech yelled, suddenly terrified. “Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over!”

Then, Tech heard engines. More V-wing fighters approaching. By the sound of it, there were at least five more.

“You must sever the connection hinge. Now!” Tech yelled as more blaster fire hit the car.

“Not until you’re up here!” Wrecker growled back.

Tech looked from Wrecker, to the cable, to the hook, and back. His brain computed the situation over and over and over with the same result.

He could not climb up the line before the hook gave out and sent both cars plummeting.

Wrecker could not reach him to pull him up before the hook gave out.

Any attempt to rescue him would only endanger everyone else.

It surely was obvious to them. Well, to Echo and Hunter at least. Yet, still none of his siblings moved to sever the connection hinge. What were they waiting for? It was a simple, logical decision. Lose one life to save four others.

We’re a family, aren’t we? Omega’s voice echoed in his mind and his heart ached.

Of course. His family wouldn’t think logically about this—they loved him.

And, that why he had to do this. He could not let his siblings die trying to save him.

I love you all, he thought.

“There is no time, Wrecker,” Tech said as he twisted and pulled out his blaster. “Plan 99.”

Somehow, the reminder of the brave member of their batch that had died saving his brothers strengthened his resolve. The V-wing fighters fired more blasts at them and the cars shuddered as they hit. He saw Wrecker stumble and grab a damaged piece of metal to steady himself.  

“Don’t you do it, Tech!” Wrecker snarled, his voice wracked with grief as he realised what Tech was going to do.

Tech sighed. “When have we ever followed orders?”

Tech took aim and fired a shot straight through the connection hinge. The car plummeted as his line went slack. He heard his siblings’ horrified cries as he fell through the clouds.

He hoped that they made it out alive.

But, there was nothing more he could do for them as their car sped away. He saw the other car falling toward him and gulped. As small as his chances for survival were, they would be infinitely smaller if he was crushed beneath the car. He twisted, keeping an eye on the car as he arched himself into a free-fall position. Then, he angled his shoulders and shifted himself to the right as the car shot past him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he continued to fall through the clouds.

As he fell, thoughts shot across his mind, probably an attempt by his brain to distract him from his impending demise. At least they were pleasant thoughts. Strangely enough, they were all of people.

Phee: The woman who could send thrills though him when she called him ‘Brown Eyes’. She was so much smarter and kinder than she first appeared. She actually listened when he rambled on about random topics—and sometimes she taught him about places he’d never heard of before. Hunter said that she was romantically interested in him, but that was highly improbable. Still, he regretted that he never had a chance to test that hypothesis.

Omega: The sister who’d had the courage to call them a family. She’d encouraged him to become more comfortable in showing his emotions. Since their bonding in the cave, Omega had sought him out more and more, either to play strategy games, or to discuss different spaceships or just to talk. It was this growing closeness that made him eager to teach her to fly and he was sorry he wouldn’t be able to see her first solo flight. He hoped she took his departure much better than she’d taken Echo’s, but he doubted it.

Echo: The brother who slotted into their group as though he’d always belonged there. Sure, the two of them bickered over mechanics and ship repairs, but he knew Echo cared deeply about all of them and would lay down his life for any of them. And, of course, Tech returned his feelings. Tech admired him for his ability to keep going despite all the hardships he’d gone through. He hoped his resilience would help him cope with losing another brother.

Crosshair: The most aloof of his brothers, but Tech had learnt over the years that it was Crosshair’s way of protecting himself. After all, no one could hurt you if they couldn’t get close to you. Yet, Tech knew that Crosshair remained as devoted to their family as ever. His warning for them to hide proved that. Tech was well-aware of what happened to disobedient prisoners and he could only imagine what Crosshair had suffered because of his attempt to warn them. He hoped that the others would rescue him soon.

Wrecker: His boisterous older brother. Yes, Wrecker could drive him crazy with his carelessness and impulsivity, but that was part of what made Wrecker who he was. As was his sincerity. Wrecker always showed his emotions, whether it was fear, or anger, or joy. It was something Tech deeply admired about him. He hoped that Wrecker didn’t grieve too much for him.

Hunter: The brother who watched out for all of them. The one who always worried about Tech not taking care of himself and would remind Tech to eat or sleep whenever he got too caught up in a project. He felt responsible for their survival. Tech hoped that Hunter understood that this sacrifice was Tech’s decision and that he shouldn’t feel guilty about Tech’s death.

Suddenly, Tech saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was something approaching fast. A missile?

No, he realised as it got closer.

It was a Mandalorian with a jetpack who was wearing gleaming, unpainted beskar armour.

“Hold out your hand!” he shouted at Tech.

Tech nodded. He reached out and the Mandalorian grabbed his hand. Then, he slung Tech’s arm over his shoulder while the other arm pulled Tech close. The Mandalorian righted them and slowly reduced the thrust in the jetpack until they were no longer plummeting, but rather slowly descending.

Tech’s heart hammered as he realised that he had been saved. Impossible though the odds had been, somehow, he’d been saved.

“I am truly grateful for the rescue,” Tech told the Mandalorian.

“It’s no trouble vod’ika.”

Then, Tech heard a sound that made his stomach drop. He looked up and saw several V-wing fighters descending though the clouds.

“Dank Ferrick!”  the Mandalorian swore. “Clip yourself to my belt and hold on!”

“I don’t see an alternative!” Tech responded as he quickly complied.

The Mandalorian shot upwards and then swung to the left as the fighters fired blasters at them. He swerved again and again, before executing a series of rapid turns that convinced Tech that he left his stomach behind, despite this being physically impossible. A V-wing fighter appeared on their right, and the Mandalorian dove, then swerved right to avoid more blaster fire.

As the Mandalorian evaded the attacks, Tech tried to come up with a plan. After all, evasive manoeuvring would not solve the problem. He mentally ran through the things he had in his pack. He had a spare set of goggles, a spare datapad, a few ration bars, bacta spray and some tools. He’d lost his blaster in the fall and he’d run out of explosives a while back. There was nothing he could use to improve the situation.

“We need a weapon or something,” Tech said.

The Mandalorian half-turned his head. “A Mandalorian with a jetpack is a weapon.”

Before Tech could process what he’d said, the Mandalorian shot upwards. Tech heard the V-wing fighters closing in behind them. Then, the Mandalorian spun, drew his blaster and fired a shot straight at one of the fighters. It went through the windshield and hit the pilot in the chest. The V-wing fighter immediately started falling and the other fighters broke formation to avoid being hit.

One down, four to go, Tech thought.

The Mandalorian took aim and fired again. This time, his blasts hit the engine of the one V-wing fighters. It exploded and the flaming fighter crashed into one of the others.

That’s three down, two to go.

The Mandalorian tried to aim for another V-wing fighter, but another V-wing fighter fired at them every time he tried to get a good angle and they were forced to dodge.

They’ve finally realised that they need to cover each other, Tech noted even as blast fire nearly hit them.

The Mandalorian evaded faster than ever, but Tech could feel his frustration growing.

“They will not allow you to shoot them again,” Tech said. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

The Mandalorian paused for a moment. “I have one thing that they probably won’t expect.”

The Mandalorian holstered his blaster and pulled out a hilt. He squeezed it and a glowing black blade extended from the hilt. It hummed with energy and Tech could feel the warmth radiating from the plasma blade. He’d only ever seen one other weapon like it before . . .

“Is that a lightsabre?” Tech asked incredulously.

As far as he knew, those were Force wielder weapons. Jedi weapons. Mandalorians and Jedi hated each other so the odds of a Mandalorian using a Jedi weapon was almost nil.

“It’s the darksabre.”

Tech was about to ask what the difference between the weapons was, when the Mandalorian suddenly swung around and flew them directly at one of the V-wing fighters. The V-wing fighter tried to shoot them, but they evaded and flew just over the cockpit. The Mandalorian sliced through the wing of the ship as though it was made from flimsi and the V-wing fighter tumbled out of the air.

Four down; one to go.

The last V-wing fighter swung through the air and tried to escape. The Mandalorian shot after it. Before it could accelerate, they reached it and the Mandalorian hacked off one of the engines with the blade. The pilot screamed as the fighter plummeted towards the ground. The Mandalorian and Tech hovered there for a moment and stared at the flaming wreckage.

“That was quite impressive,” Tech said.

The Mandalorian retracted the blade and placed it in his pocket. “I told you that a Mandalorian with a jetpack is a weapon.”

 Then, Tech realised that he could hear something in the distance. More engines approaching fast.

“There are more coming!”

“I’ll get us back to the ground for cover. We can make our way to my ship from there, vod’ika.”

Tech nodded and the Mandalorian swooped towards the ground. As soon as they were beneath the trees, he righted them and they landed with a thump. Tech detached himself and staggered away.

He managed a few steps before his legs collapsed beneath him. His breath came in sharp gasps and his heart thundered in his ears. Logically, he knew that it was just terror leaving his system, but a part of him squirmed at the thought of this stranger seeing him so shaken. The Mandalorian didn’t appear put out by his collapse. Instead, he walked over and placed a comforting hand on Tech’s shoulder.

“Are you all right, vod’ika?”

“I have a new-found understanding of Wrecker’s acrophobia.” Then, something occurred to Tech. “But, I fail to understand why you refer to me as ‘vod’ika’. We are not brothers.”

The Mandalorian shrugged. “Your ori’vod is my ori’vod. That means we are vode. This is the way.”

Tech was about to ask which brother the Mandalorian was talking about, since he had over several million of them, when he suddenly heard one of the V-wing fighters shoot over the trees above them. Both he and the Mandalorian froze, but the V-wing fighter didn’t appear to have noticed them.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a safer location?” Tech asked.

“We’ll talk in my ship. I’ve parked it close by.”

Tech nodded and got to his feet, as a thought occurred to him. He rummaged in his pack until he found his spare goggles. Then, he smashed them against one of the trees and dropped them on the ground.

“If the Empire believes I am dead, then they won’t come looking for us as we make our escape,” he explained.

The Mandalorian nodded. “Good idea.”

 The two of them scrambled through the undergrowth with the Mandalorian taking the lead. After a moment, it occurred to Tech that he was being rude as he had not introduced himself to his rescuer.

“By the way, I’m CT-9903, but I prefer Tech,” Tech said. “Though I suspect you already knew that.”

“I did.”

“How would you like me to address you?”

The Mandalorian thought for a moment, then said, “You may call me Din. Din Djarin.”

Chapter Text

Tech realised very quickly that Din was not certain where he had parked the ship. The conclusion was easy enough to make, based on the number of times Din paused and looked around at the snow-covered landscape in confusion.

“Dank Ferrick,” Din snarled as he looked around for approximately the eighth time. “I know I parked it around here . . .”

Tech carefully pulled his spare datapad from his pack and started searching for energy signatures. In a few moments, the results appeared on screen. “Yes, well, your recollection appears to be incorrect. I am getting a large energy reading not too far to the west. The energy signature does not match the type of ship that the Empire prefers, so I am assuming that it belongs to your ship.”

Din tilted his head. “It could be, though I didn’t leave it running.”

He pressed a button on his gauntlet and his wrist comm activated.

“Daimyo here.”

Unsurprisingly, that was a Reg, though there was a hoarseness to his voice that spoke of chemical damage to the lungs. Tech made a note to confirm his theory once he met the clone in person.

“Ori’vod, did you move the ship?” Din asked.

“No. Fennec did. The Jedi sensed an Imperial patrol getting closer, so my buir and I dealt with it while Fennec moved the ship.”

“Any problems?”

The Reg scoffed. “The day I have trouble taking out Stormtroopers is the day you can throw me back in the sarlacc.”

“All right.”

“I’m sending you the location of the ship now. You need to hurry, though. There are more Imperial ships headed this way and we need to be gone before they get here.”

“Lek.”

Din ended the call and glanced at the location that the clone had sent to him. As Tech predicted, the ship was located to the west.  

Din turned to Tech. “We need to pick up speed. May I carry you again?”

Tech’s stomach dropped. He was about to refuse with a logical argument that he was capable of moving fast on foot, when required, when he heard them: The engines of several V-Wing fighters heading their way.

“Dank Ferrick!” Din swore.

“Unfortunately, that does appear to be the optimal solution,” Tech noted.

He placed his datapad back into his pack and slung his arm around Din’s shoulders. Din clipped Tech’s belt to his and then activated the jetpack. Tech grunted as they took off and shot through the air. Din swerved around the trees as they approached a ship. It was an older model, a Firespray, though it looked to be in good working condition for its age. The ramp was open and another Mandalorian, this one in blue and grey armour, stood at the end of the ramp. He grabbed the extending arms that allowed the ramp to move with one hand and waved at them with the other.

“Move, Din!” The Mandalorian yelled.

Din accelerated and zoomed straight into the hold of the ship. They landed with a thump and they both staggered as they tried to find their feet.

“He’s in!” the Mandalorian yelled.

“About time!” someone yelled back from the cockpit.

Strangely, the two voices sounded very similar—and familiar.

Before Tech could puzzle it out, Din unclipped him. He pushed Tech into one of the seats lining the hold and slammed the harness down. It was an action that reminded Tech so much of Hunter that Tech’s heart hurt. Din dropped into the seat next to him and Tech nodded that the Mandalorian was already strapped in opposite them.

“Go!” the Mandalorian yelled.

Tech grunted as the ship accelerated and the G-Force shoved him back into his seat. The ship shuddered and then he glimpsed the lights of hyperspace through one of the viewports. The ship’s flying eased up and the crew breathed a sigh of relief. They slowly unstrapped themselves and Tech took the opportunity to look around. It seemed that the interior of the Firespray had been configured so that there were several levels of interior spaces. He assumed the hatch above them lead to the cockpit, while bypassing some more private areas. He moved his eyes around and noticed there were several seats with harnesses, as well as a large storage chamber that stood next to a mobile carbonite freezer. There were also several emitters for ray shields that could be manipulated to divide the space into several holding areas. All in all, it was a set up for transporting live cargo, so Tech surmised that the owner of the Firespray was either a bounty hunter or a smuggler.

Not exactly a strange profession for a Mandalorian.

Tech pulled out his datapad and carefully sliced into the ship’s system. He had no intention of taking over the ship, but experience had taught him that it was a sensible precaution to take while on any vessel that wasn’t the Havoc Marauder.

Then, Tech realised it wasn’t just the three of them in the hold. There was also a copper-haired, bearded man wearing a cloak over his cream tunic in the one corner and an elderly man in worn, Clone-trooper armour sitting next to him. And—

“Bah!”

Something launched itself at Din, who caught it with practiced ease. Tech blinked in shock. It was a diminutive humanoid with wrinkled, green skin; large, black eyes and enormous ears. It wore a ragged, brown robe, though Tech could see a glimpse of metal chainmail armour beneath it.

“He’s happy to see you,” the bearded man said.

“I’m glad to see you too, Gro’ika,” Din replied.

Tech pushed up his harness, but before he could enquire further about the creature, two other figures descended from the hatch above. It was another Mandalorian, though his armour was painted in green, with gold and red accents. He was followed by—

“Fennec Shand,” Tech greeted as he dropped into a defensive position.

He wished he hadn’t dropped his blaster when he’d fallen, but he could fight hand-to-hand if it came to it. Though, her ability to take out Wrecker in less then ten seconds didn’t give him much confidence in his odds against her. Especially considering that the others were likely to assist her in the fight.

He would have to calculate a way to incapacitate Shand before she attacked. His eyes flicked to the ray emitters.

That could work.

He discretely typed on the datapad with one hand as he held the other one out defensively to distract her.  It only took a few careful commands for him to get control of the ray emitters. He activated the shields and suddenly red ray shields divided the hold, capturing Shand, the green-armoured Mandalorian, and the cloaked figure on once side, with Din, the humanoid and the grey-and-blue armoured Mandalorian on another. The elder man in Clone Trooper armour had jumped out the way and avoided being captured. He stepped between Tech and the ladder that led to the cockpit.

“Easy, Tech,” the older man said placatingly.

Suddenly Tech recognised his voice as a Reg's.

“Unfortunately, I cannot relax when in the presence of the woman who attempted to kidnap my ori’vod’ika just a few months ago.”

Suddenly, Shand laughed. “Oh, now that is a compliment.”

The green-armoured Mandalorian turned to her. “Shand, what part of this is a compliment?”

“The part where he told me that I haven’t aged in twenty-five years.”

The green-armoured Mandalorian sighed. He pressed a few buttons on his gauntlet and froze.

“You locked me out of my ship.”

“Yes.”

“Tech, lower the shields,” the older Reg continued. “You can trust us. We’re here to help you.”

“I’m disinclined to trust without further evidence.”

“That’s so . . . Tech.” There was an odd expression on his face. One that Tech could not identify. But, it did not appear threatening. Just . . . fond. And sad. Tech quickly glanced at his datapad to avoid the man’s gaze.

“You appear to be familiar with me, if I am understanding this correctly?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Yet, I am not familiar with you.”

“You do know me, Tech. I just look different to the version of me that you know.”

“You will have to clarify.”

“It’s a situation KFO.”

“A situation KFO, or ‘Karking Force Osik’,” Tech ignored the snorts from the captives as he spoke, “is an informal term to cover a wide range of Force anomalies. You will have to be more specific.”

He opened up the Jedi Temple archives on his datapad and waited for the older clone to continue.

“Time travel.”

Tech looked up from the datapad. “Time travel?”

“Yes. You see, I’m Captain Rex, CT-7567.” He gestured as he spoke. “You already know Din and Fennec.”

Tech carefully snapped a picture of Shand’s face with his datapad. Then, he ran a background comparison against the face of Shand he had on record as he scanned the archives for any mention of ‘time travel’.

Then, Rex gestured at the green-armoured Mandalorian. The Mandalorian removed his helmet to reveal a Reg’s face, though it was bald and badly scarred.  

“This is Boba Fett,” Rex said.

Tech tilted his head. “I assume you are involved with the KFO, since you are meant to be the age of Omega, the other unaltered clone of Jango Fett. Well, unaltered other than her gender.”

“Yes,” Boba said flatly as he glared at Shand.

She held up her hands placatingly. “Boss, I didn’t know you didn’t know about Omega. If I had, I would have told you immediately.”

“I know, Fennec,” Boba sighed. “I’m just angry that I’ve had a sister all my life and never knew.”

“I know the feeling,” the other Mandalorian growled.

He pulled off his blue-accented helmet to reveal he was another Reg. Though, unlike Rex and Boba, he had thick, curly hair and a scowl on his face.

“And, this is . . . the Prime,” Rex said hesitantly.

Tech hummed and took a picture of the Prime’s face. Then, he began another background comparison between the picture and the pictures of the Prime he’d taken off the Kaminoan severs.  The Prime blinked in shock. “I was expecting more of a reaction than that.”

“Any feelings I may have about you are irrelevant to my analysis of whether or not you are telling the truth. Besides, you were not the worst of what we experienced on Kamino. You were merely supremely indifferent to the fate of the clones, besides Boba, whilst the others were actively abusive.”

The Prime looked like Tech had kicked him in the gut. Tech wasn’t sure why. He’d merely stated the truth.

“Well, now that I’ve gotten the Sith out of my head,” the Prime snarled, “That’s definitely going to change.”

Rex nodded and gestured at the cloaked man.  “And, finally, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Tech snapped another picture as he fought back the urge to salute. On the one hand, Obi-Wan Kenobi had been the High General of the GAR and his military strategies had saved the lives of many people. On the other hand, Tech was a deserter and thus he had no obligation to salute. Tech made a note to research if there were any military protocols to address the issue. He sent the picture Obi-Wan Kenobi to compare against the images of Obi-Wan Kenobi that he had on record.

“Pleasure to meet all of you,” Tech said as he turned his attention back to his datapad.

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Kenobi noted.

“I do not have sufficient data to make a call either way. Please continue while I complete my analysis.”

Tech flicked through a few articles in the archives, noting that ‘time travel’ was treated as a true, if rare, phenomenon. There were a few articles from Lothal that seemed particularly relevant, so Tech marked them down for later perusal. There were also mentions of certain Force artefacts that could trigger time travel, namely ones that depicted the ‘Force Gods’: the Daughter, the Son and the Father. Some even had pictures of the artifacts and the deities. As he searched, he realised that no one had spoken.

He looked up and saw that everyone was staring incredulously at him.

“Is there a problem?”

“No . . . but are you listening to us?”

“I can listen and read at the same time. The ability to process multiple sources of information simultaneously is part of my enhancement.”

Not to mention that I was punished harshly if I failed to do so during training exercises.

“All right, vod’ika,” Din said as shook his head. “I guess I should explain since it’s Grogu’s fault.”

“Grogu?”

“My ad,” Din said as he gestured at the young humanioid.

Ah. Of course, the Mandalorian tendency to adopt any children they encountered. Clearly, it had resulted in the two of them bonding.

“I understand. Please, continue.”

Din stroked Grogu’s head as he spoke. “Grogu is Force sensitive, so I tried to find a teacher for him, but it didn’t work out. Grogu returned to me while I was staying at Boba’s palace.”

Boba has a palace? Tech made a note to obtain more details later.

“Grogu and I found Boba mourning his buir. Grogu didn’t like his Bo’bavodu being sad, so he used a Force artifact to bring Jango and Obi-Wan forward in time from before the Clone Wars.”

“Forward in time? When are you from?” he asked Din.

“Five years after the fall of the Empire.”

Tech stilled. “The Empire is gone?”

“Yeah, vod’ika, it fell,” Din said gently.

“Echo will be relieved to know that.”

Tech tried to process it. The Empire controlled hundreds of thousands of planets. It had resources and wealth from all over the galaxy. It’s army of controlled clones and newly conscripted soldiers was massive . . . and, it was all going to come crashing down in a few short decades.

The thought was almost too much to process, so Tech shoved it aside and focused on what he was doing. “Can you tell me more about the artefact?”

“It was a tapestry. It had a woman and two men on it. The woman had long, green hair and the one man was bald and clean shaven. The other man was older and had a beard.”

Those matched the descriptions and depictions of the Force Gods. He searched for results on ‘time travel tapestries’ and a few did come up. A quick scan through them showed that they were linked to what seemed to be legitimate instances of time travel. Again, he marked a few of the results for later perusal.

“After they arrived, we tried to send them back to their time—” Din began.

“So I can murder the shabuir Kaminoans, Pre Viszla and a few other people” the Prime muttered.

“But, something went wrong . . .” Din trailed off.

Kenobi seemed to see his agitation and stepped in. “While we were trying to send Jango and me back, us Force sensitives sensed a great deal of distress in the Force. Grogu identified it as one of his ba’vodu’e and threw us all towards it so we could assist them.”

“That doesn’t make sense, cyare,” the Prime said. “None of the vode are Force sensitive.”

“That is incorrect. Omega has latent force sensitivity.” He moved to searching articles that mentioned ‘latent Force sensitivity’ and ‘time travel’ together. “Could that have attracted Grogu?”

He continued searching until he realised that there was silence. He looked up and saw that everyone was staring at him again. 

“She’s Force sensitive? Why didn’t you say anything?” Rex demanded.

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Tech . . .” Rex said, sounding a lot like Hunter when Tech frustrated him.

“Still it begs the question: why would Omega’s distress bring you all here?”

Rex stared at him. “Tech, you enacted plan 99.”

“I am aware.”

“Omega watched you die. If Din hadn’t grabbed you, you would have died. In our timeline, you did die. That’s enough to distress any of us who are used to losing siblings in battle, nevermind a kid who’s never had a brother die. And, worse, die in front of her while saving her and her brothers.”

Tech blinked. He had expected distress and grief from his family, but not to the level of being able to break time itself. Surely, Omega didn’t feel so strongly about him? Him, who struggled so hard to express his emotions and tell them what they all meant to him? Tech turned to his datapad as his heart shattered in his chest. His eyes stung as his searched for the right words. Why was it that explaining scientific concepts was so easy, yet expressing basic emotions eluded him?

“They—it was the only option. It was me or them and—I couldn’t—it wasn’t logical for them for them to die trying to save me.”

Rex’s voice was very gentle. “Just because it was the only option doesn’t mean it’s any easier to lose a brother, vod’ika.”

“I . . . I see.”

Then, his datapad pinged. He checked the results of the facial comparisons.

“Well, the Prime’s image matches the last image on record of him, which makes sense given that he was temporally displaced shortly before his death. Shand’s image does note signs of aging, though far less than usual, given the length of time that passed between the two images. As for Kenobi, his present image is younger than the image on the GAR records, though the GAR image has what I am given to understand is a more flattering hairstyle than the one he currently has.”

“This is a perfectly good hairstyle,” Kenobi protested as the Prime and Boba snickered.

“I am sure it is adequate for its purpose,” Tech said.

“I told you he was blunt,” Rex said, sounding fond.

“I am merely stating the fact. The facial comparisons add evidence to your claim, as does the fact that there are artefacts similar to the one you described in the articles from the Jedi Temple archives. The archives also have several papers on the phenomenon, which leads me to believe that it is actually a real occurrence, albeit a rare one.”

“You have access to the archives?” Kenobi asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I sliced into them shortly before our first deployment. I wanted to have everything on hand to help guide us through our interactions with Jedi.”

“Those files are supposed to be the most secure in the galaxy.”

“Whoever told you that was severely mistaken.”

Rex snickered at Kenobi’s affronted look. Tech finished marking off a few more articles and looked at Rex.

“There is only one piece of evidence that I need before I can believe your story. I need to scan your ident number.”

Rex nodded and held out his left arm.

“What’s an ident number?” the Prime asked tersely as Tech moved his datapad towards Rex’s wrist.

“It is a barcode that allows the Kaminoans to identify their products. It is a good business practice followed by most manufacturers and, if the product is particularly exceptional, it acts as a form of advertising.”

Then, he caught sight of Rex’s face. “I apologise. Just because I can acknowledge the reasoning behind the practice does not mean I agree with it.”

Rex smiled. “I know, Tech. Just scan the damn thing.”

Tech scanned it and a hologram appeared with Rex’s age—now well into his late thirties by nat-born standards—his name, CT-number, rank and other military records.

“It appears to be legitimate. I think that’s sufficient data to confirm that it is likely that you are telling the truth.”

“Good. You think you can lower the shields now?” Rex asked.

“A moment.”

He pressed a few buttons on the datapad and deactivated the shields as well as restored the control of the ship to Boba and the Prime.

“That’s an impressive bit of slicing,” Shand said.

“Hardly. This system is full of weak points I could exploit.”

“Still, first time a computer thwarted me. Good job,” Shand said with a smile.

Tech wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he was about to look back at his datapad, when Boba sighed and stepped forward.

 “You might as well scan my ident number as well.”

“Boba . . .” the Prime sounded pained.

“Buir, I had an inhibitor chip. The chances are that I have an ident chip as well.

If Alpha had an inhibitor chip, does that mean Omega does too? Tech felt dread clench its fist around his heart.

He was a fool. He’s risked Omega’s well-being on an assumption that the Kaminoans were honest about her being unaltered, despite the overwhelming evidence that they were willing to lie when it came to the clones. Now, Omega might suffer for his carelessness. He realised his hands trembled and sucked in air. He forced himself to keep breathing and to think logically. If Omega had a chip, it was unlikely that it was active and, therefore, he had a window of opportunity to remove it. But, he would need to build a scanner to locate the chip. Something similar to the one he’d had on Bracca would do nicely. Then, he could use AZI to remove the chip, since the med-droid was experienced in such procedures.

Despite his sparking thoughts, he was able to scan Boba’s ident chip and a hologram appeared. This one had Boba’s age, name and an impressive list of achievements in bounty hunting . . . and several convictions as well. The details matched what Tech knew of Boba, so he took the results as further confirmation. As he typed, he noticed that the Prime looked even more pained as his eyes scanned the hologram and Kenobi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Boba didn’t meet anyone’s gaze as Tech closed the hologram.

“Now that we are all on the same page, might I enquire as to where we are going?”

“We’re heading to Ord Mantel,” Boba said.

“Ord Mantel? Why?”

“Hunter fled there after the disaster on Eriadu, but . . . Cid sold them out to the Empire and Omega was captured by Hemlock and taken to his base.”

Tech’s eyes widened. “Omega is in danger?!”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” Rex added quickly.

“And it won’t happen at all once we get there,” Din said flatly.

Tech looked at him in surprise. Din shrugged.

“I know what the Empire did to Grogu and I’m not letting it happen to other ade. Especially not ones who are my vode.”

“We’re not letting it happen,” Boba said fiercely.

“No Empire is touching any of the vode ever again. Not while I’m still breathing,” the Prime snarled.

“It’s likely the Empire will attempt to remedy that situation,” Tech said mildly. “Now, do you have any parts and tools that I may use? I want to build a scanner to confirm whether or not Omega has an inhibitor chip?”

The Prime nodded and went over to the wall. He touched a panel and a number of drawers slid out from secret compartments in the wall.

“These are my tools and some stuff I’ve taken off my bounties over the years. I’m sure you can make use of some of this.”

Tech glanced over and nodded. “Yes, this will do nicely.”

“All right. You work on the scanner that while the rest of us tend to our wounds—and see that Grogu is cared for,” Kenobi said with a nod at Din. “Then, in about an hour, we’ll meet up and go over the plan for when we get to Ord Mantel.”

There was a chorus of agreements, but Tech could barely hear it over the voice in his ears screaming that his family were in danger.

Hold on all of you. I am coming. And I am bringing reinforcements.  

Chapter Text

Hunter walked through the streets of Ord Mantel in a daze as he tried to process the last few moments. Hunter remembered the AZI’s frantic beeping as he’d stumbled into Cid’s bar, Omega’s limp form in his arms, yelling for the droid. The droid had immediately got to work on Omega. Hunter had wanted to stay with him, but Echo had manhandled him into a chair and proceeded to tend to his wounds. Hunter’s wounds weren’t too bad in comparison to the others: bruising, cracked ribs and a sprained ankle. Hunter also had internal injuries, but they had bacta patches to heal those. Once Echo was done with Hunter, he’d tried to help Wrecker, but AZI had ordered him to leave Wrecker alone. So, Echo had headed back to the ship to repair the damage to his own prosthetics—and tend to his wounds, though he’d never admit that to anyone. Hunter had stayed behind with Omega until AZI had ordered him to get more bacta spray for Omega while he dealt with Wrecker’s wounds. Now, Hunter fought his way through the crowds to the Havoc Marauder and tried to ignore the gaping wound inside his soul that kept haemorrhaging. Even losing Nighty Nine could never have prepared him for the agony of losing Te—

He snapped off the thought. He couldn’t think about it. If he thought about it, it would be real and if it was real . . . Hunter didn’t know what he was going to do if it was real. He tried to concentrate on something else, anything else: the stench of old oil being used to fry food; the chatter of voices; the hum of speeders weaving through the streets; the buzz of the electrical fields against his senses. Suddenly, his boot clanged against something metal. He looked up. He was standing at the foot of the ramp to the Havoc Marauder. He didn’t want to look at the ship since it was full of the modifications that he made for them, like additional shields or special casings for Wrecker’s proton bombs. But, as he entered the ship, he realised it wasn’t any better inside as he instinctively listened for the heartbeat that belonged to the pilot of the ship.

 It wasn’t there.

 Hunter fought against the urge to run as far as he could from the ship. He went straight to the medical supply kit and pulled out bacta spray. They’d stocked up on it before the mission. He’d insisted on it. Hunter could almost hear him telling them all that they needed to prepare for any eventuality.

Nothing could have prepared Hunter for losing one of his younger siblings.

He stuffed the spray into his pocket and slammed down the lid of the medical supply kit.

“Hunter?” Echo’s voice came from the cockpit of the ship.

Hunter sighed and walked towards his voice. As he entered the cockpit, Hunter could smell the salt in the air and noticed the dried tear tracks on Echo’s cheeks. Echo looked haggard from their ordeal. His eyes were red and bloodshot; his prosthetics were dented and wiring poked out here and there; and there were bruises on his face.

“Hey, Echo,” Hunter greeted wearily as he came to stand behind Echo’s chair.

Neither of them looked at the empty pilot’s seat.

“Hey . . . what are you doing?”

“More bacta spray for Omega. AZI said she needed it. He expects her to make a full recovery.”

“And Wrecker?”

“He’s working on Wrecker now.  He’s broken several ribs and sprained his neck. He also has internal injuries that AZI is treating with bacta patches. But he’s going to recover.”

 Not like—

Hunter gasped and tightened his grip on the back of the chair. Echo reached over and squeezed his arm. He didn’t say something stupid like ‘time heals all wounds’. He knew better than all of them that some wounds never truly healed. Hunter forced himself to breathe through the pain and was grateful that Echo didn’t let him go. Still, his eyes kept flicking over to the dashboard.

“What is it?” Hunter asked.

“We need to call Phee . . . tell her about . . .” he trailed off, unable to say his name.

Something inside Hunter crumpled. What kind of leader was he, what kind of brother was he, to shove all the responsibilities onto Echo? As if Echo wasn’t shattering as well.

“I-I’ll do it.”

“Hunter . . . ”

“I’ll do it,” he repeated.

Echo squeezed Hunter’s arm again. He reached over and keyed in Phee’s code. A moment later, Phee’s form appeared as a hologram with familiar dreadlocks and blue bandana.

“Hey there! I was wondering—” she broke off as she saw Hunter, her jovial attitude gone in a moment. “Hunter, what happened?”

“The mission went badly. There was another group of rebels there, one we didn’t know about . . . they blew the building up.”

“Kriff,” Phee breathed. “Are you guys hurt? Is T-Omega all right?”

The slip caused Hunter’s composure to crack. “Omega’s will be fine. B-But . . . he . . . Tech . . .” The name sent a wave of pain through him and his legs nearly buckled.

“What happened to Tech?” Phee breathed.

But her eyes told him that she knew. She just didn’t want to believe it.

“Tech . . . he . . .” Hunter’s throat worked.

The words wouldn’t come. The words just wouldn’t come.

“He sacrificed himself to save us all.” Echo said, leaning forward so that Phee could see him too.

“Don’t you do it, Tech!”

“When have we ever followed orders?”

The sound of the car falling. Tech’s heartbeat getting further away.

Something made a horrific noise. It sounded like a wounded animal. Hunter thought that someone should put it out of its misery. Then, he realised he was making that awful sound. He blinked away tears and saw Phee watching him with a grief-wracked expression on her face.

“Come to Pabu,” she said after her throat worked for a moment.

“What?”

“All of you come back to Pabu.”

“Phee, Tech—”

“I know he’s gone!” Phee snapped. “I know that!  But, I didn’t just invite him here. I invited all of you . . . you’re my friends. Y-you all have a place here. Come back and . . . and we’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you,” Hunter said after a moment, unexpectedly touched.

Phee nodded shortly and sniffed. She swiped angrily at her eyes. “Comm when you are on the way.”

“We will.”

Hunter sighed and turned off the comm. He checked his pocket for the bacta spray, patted Echo on the shoulder and then headed towards the door.

“You coming?”

Echo shook his head. “I’ve got a few repairs to make if we’re going back to Pabu.”

We. Echo had already told them that he was staying with them for a while, just until they got Crosshair back, though Hunter expected it was so that they didn’t have to grieve alone.

And, Hunter was going to get Crosshair back, once they found a sithsdamn clue on where he was. He would have wanted it.

Hunter nodded at Echo. He slipped out of the Havoc Marauder and back out into the crowded streets of Ord Mantel. It didn’t take long before he reached Cid’s bar. He slipped in through the back and through the corridors to Cid’s backroom, where they had set up a temporary medbay. Cid’s junk had been shoved off to the side and Wrecker had hauled a mattress into the middle of the room, despite his injuries. A red blanket had been spread over it to make a bed for Omega to lie on. She was there, lying almost peacefully, except for the various cuts and bruises all over her. There was dirt and grime in her hair and her clothes were torn and ragged. Her energy-bow rested on a crate beside her, as did her helmet. Hunter sat on another crate by Omega’s side and took out the bacta spray. Carefully, oh so carefully, he sprayed Omega’s injuries and watched as they sealed up. Once he was done, he sat back and closed his eyes. He focused on Omega’s heartbeat. Nothing else. Not the sounds of AZI and Cid and Wrecker, or the reek of alcohol in the room or the vibrations under his feet. Just the rhythmic beating of Omega’s heart. It soothed him to know she was still alive. After some time, he heard her stirring and he dropped to her side.  

“Hunter?” she asked weakly as her brown eyes focused on him.

“Hey kid.” He reached out and pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked as she tried to sit up.

Hunter gently coaxed her back down. Behind him, he heard the faint hum of circuitry as AZI floated into the room.

The little droid’s eyes flickered with worry as he said, “Hello Omega. I am relieved you are awake.”

AZI scanned her with a familiar blue gid and then continued “You each sustained multiple injuries; however, you will all make a full recovery with proper treatment and rest.”

Omega pressed her lips together and fought to sit up. One look at her determined expression and Hunter resigned himself to helping her. Then, he heard Wrecker’s heavy footsteps and agitated heartbeat coming down the corridor. A moment later, Wrecker stepped into the room and Omega’s eyes widened. Wrecker had cuts and bruises across his face, bandages wrapped around his torso and a neckbrace on over his blacks. He looked as bad as Hunter felt.

“You’re okay,” Wrecker said in relief as soon as he saw Omega was awake.

He dropped to his knees beside her bed and pulled her into a careful hug.

“Don’t scare us like that again,” Wrecker said.

As they hugged, Hunter got up and grabbed a canteen. He handed it to Omega, who took it gratefully.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently after she’d sipped some of the water.

“I don’t know,” Omega said weakly. “The last thing that I remember . . . we were on the rail-car when—”

She gasped and then quickly asked, “Where’s Tech?”

The question felt like a punch in the gut. Hunter looked away as he fought not to break down.

“Omega . . . Tech didn’t make it.”

“We have to go back! What if he’s hurt? He needs us!” Her eyes snapped to Wrecker when Hunter didn’t respond. “Tell him, Wrecker! We can’t just leave him!”

Wrecker looked devastated and tears leaked from his eyes. Hunter swallowed hard.

“Omega—” Hunter began as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

“No!” She smacked his hand away. “Tech’s not gone! He can’t be!”

Her voice broke and she sobbed. Hunter put his arm around her. Her grief was somehow made his own heart hurt worse. How was that even possible?

“I-I know, kid.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw Wrecker wipe his eyes and slip out of the room, AZI trailing behind him.. He heard Wrecker move into the bar and sit at the counter. After a moment or two, as Omega sobbed into his chest, he heard Wrecker and Cid speaking. Then, Omega’s desperate wail brought his attention back to her.

“Why did Tech do that?” Omega asked in a broken voice. “He didn’t let us save him.”

Hunter tightened his grip on Omega. “He knew we were out of time. Tech put the squad ahead of himself. He made a sacrifice, Omega, and we’re not going to waste it.”

“What does that mean?” she asked as she pulled away to look at him.

“The galaxy has changed. And so have we. It’s time to put being soldiers behind us. For good.” Once they found Crosshair, of course, but he didn’t want to mention Crosshair in case he upset Omega more. “Wrecker and I think Pabu could be a good place to make a new life for ourselves.” He hadn’t mentioned it to Wrecker, but he knew Wrecker would leap at the chance to go back there. “And the rest of it . . . we can figure out along the way.” He hesitated and then asked, “Omega, is that something you want?”

She bit her lip and then nodded slowly.

“Then, that’s what we’ll do.”

Suddenly, Hunter heard Wrecker yell. Hunter stood up and grabbed his blaster.

“What is it?”

Hunter ignored Omega as he crept towards the door. He heard footsteps down the hallway. He peered out of the room and two blaster bolts nearly hit him. He jerked back and shot out the controls for the door, sealing them in.

“What’s going on? What’s happening? Omega asked.

“It’s the Empire,” Hunter said as he opened Cid’s storeroom.

It was as filthy as the last time he’d seen it, with crates, junk and litter scattered everywhere.

He shoved aside a crate and then said to Omega “Take the mining tunnels to the spaceport and find Echo. I’ll get Wrecker.”

He ushered her into the storeroom, pausing only to grab her energy-bow and helmet.

“But, you’re injured,” she protested as he lifted up the hatch that led to the tunnel. “You can’t fight them alone.”

“Omega, you need to go. That is an order,” he snapped.

He pushed the helmet onto her head. Then, he handed her the energy-bow. She reluctantly took it and strapped it onto her back. Hunter watched as she climbed down the ladder. Hunter closed the hatch and sealed it shut. He took a breath, then got to work. He had given them all miniature explosives before the mission and Hunter still had his on hand. He placed them by the door as he heard the troopers fiddling on the other side. He backed up and then detonated them. The troopers cried out as they were caught in the blast. Hunter peered out, his eyes watering in the smoke. The coast was clear so far, though he could hear several heartbeats in the bar—including Wrecker’s. He snuck into the corridor, keeping his blaster ready. He reached the bar and stopped as he took in the scene. Wrecker was on his knees, his hands in binders. Around him were seven troopers with their blasters trained on him. Only, they weren’t normal TK troopers. They had thicker armour and helmets with blue visors. What did Gregor call them . . . shocktroopers, or something like that. There was one other person in the bar. He had dark hair and a dark jacket with white shoulders. There was something familiar about him. Then, it clicked. This was the man that was holding Crosshair: Dr Hemlock.

As Hunter watched, Hemlock slipped a syringe into his pocket.

“What was that?” Hunter asked.

“Nothing you need to be concerned about at the moment.”

Hunter bared his teeth and glanced at Wrecker. Wrecker looked apologetically at Hunter. Hunter nodded and then trained his blaster on Hemlock.

“That’s not very strategic, Hunter,” Hemlock said mildly as he massaged his gloved hand, “you don’t need to use your enhanced senses to know that you’re outnumbered.”

One of the shocktroopers stepped forward with a case in his hands.

 “The Empire thanks you for your assistance,” Hemlock said as he gestured to someone lurking to one side.

Cid stepped forward, not looking at either Hunter or Wrecker. Her shoulders were hunched and she reeked of guilt. Hunter’s grip on the blaster tightened. He didn’t care if she felt guilty. She’d sold them out. She’d sold Omega out. He wished he could put a blaster bolt through her head and—

Something skittered across the floor and stopped at Cid’s feet. She paused and picked it up. Hunter caught sight of it as she inspected it. It was a bounty puck with a mythosaur painted on it. Cid’s eyes went wide. Her scent suddenly went from guilty to petrified.

“Kriff no,” she said as her hands shook.

“Is something the matter?” Hemlock said irritably.

“Yeah.” She backed towards the exit. “I gotta get outta here.”

“What about your payment?”

“Keep the damn credits!” she yelled as she fled out of the door.

Everyone stared after her in shock, before the Hunter returned his attention to Hemlock.

“Please, consider your next move very carefully. I would hate for this to end poorly for both of you. After all, I was sad to learn of your friend’s demise. What was his name? Oh, yes. Tech.”

Wrecker growled and struggled against his binders as one of the shocktroopers handed something to Hemlock. It was Tech’s shattered goggles. Hemlock tossed them at Hunter’s feet. It hurt more than if Hemlock had kicked him. Keeping his blaster trained on Hemlock, Hunter scooped the goggles into his free hand and then slipped them into his pocket.

“Consider it a gift,” Hemlock said as he moved towards Hunter. “To lose one of your own . . . it must weigh heavily on you as their leader. So, this is how this is going to go. You will lower your blaster and hand over Omega and I will allow you to keep breathing. “

“Omega’s not going anywhere with you,” Hunter growled.

Hemlock’s eyes lit up. “Who knew clones were so paternal? Fascinating.”

Someone laughed. A dark, dangerous sound that made the hairs on Hunter’s neck stand on end. Then, he finally noticed the other heartbeats in the room. One was fast, almost like a young child, whilst the other was strong and steady, apparently someone used to violence. Hunter noticed other things as well—the smell of beskar, the sound of breath too low for a vocorecorder to pick up, the soft tread of a boot—before the man came into view. He was a Mandalorian in beskar armour that was painted in grey and blue. He had two Westars and both of them were trained on Hemlock. Then, Hunter noticed that toddling behind him was a small, humanoid figure with wrinkled green skin, big ears and black eyes.

“You really shouldn’t find that ‘fascinating’,” the Mandalorian said as the little creature moved to crouch behind one of the chairs.

Hemlock didn’t seem to notice the creature. He was too focused on the Mandalorian in front of him.  “And, how should I find it?” Hemlock asked.

“Terrifying. The clones are Mandalorian by blood and only a di’kut gets between a Mandalorian and their ad.”

Hemlock scoffed. “I know how to handle clones.”

The Mandalorian laughed. “Maybe, but you have no idea how to handle me. This is how this is going to play out. You’re going to order your troopers to stand down and you’re going to tell me where Mt Tantiss is and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live.”

Hemlock smiled. “And, if I don’t?”

“I’ll kill you all.”

“You’re outnumbered seven to one.”

“I like those odds. So, are you standing down?”

“No.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t. Grogu!”

“Bah!” the little humanoid shouted from its hiding place.

Suddenly, the troopers flew back as Wrecker flew forward towards Hunter. Hunter braced himself for an impact, expect Wrecker slowed suddenly and floated into Hunter’s arms.

“What the kark?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter was about to answer, when a yell cut him off.

Hunter and Wrecker looked up and their eyes widened. Two of the shocktroopers were already dead. The Mandalorian had drawn a vibroknife and was fighting a third. The shocktrooper tried to punch him, but the Mandalorian ducked and stabbed into the shocktrooper’s armpit. He screamed and the Mandalorian yanked his blade free and stabbed him in the throat. He fell limply to the ground. The Mandalorian lunged at one of the other shocktroopers, only for another to try and shoot him. The blast ricocheted off the beskar. The Mandalorian retaliated by throwing a knife clean through the man’s throat, before returning to his intended target. Then, Hunter noticed that Hemlock was sneaking towards the exit.

Before Hunter could react, the humanoid held up its hands again.

“Patu!” the humanoid said again and pulled on the air.

Hemlock flew back and slammed into Cid’s bar. A moment later, the Mandalorian speared Hemlock’s hands with his vibroknives, pinning him in place. Then he nodded in satisfaction and tackled one of the last remaining shocktroopers. Hemlock tried to get free and screamed.

Then, Hunter heard another scream. One that froze the blood in his veins.

“Omega,” he whispered.

“What?” Wrecker demanded.

“Omega. She screamed and –”

Wrecker pushed him towards the door. “Go.”

“But—”

“I’m fine here. You go save Omega.”

Wrecker shoved him again. Hunter hesitated for a moment, then sprinted out of the door.

Hold on, Omega. I’m coming!

Chapter Text

Wrecker watched Hunter run out the door, apparently towards the sound of Omega’s screams. He hoped that Hunter reached her in time. The sight of Omega’s limp form on the ground during the mission had scared him more than—than looking down from a really, really high tower. He winced and rolled onto his side. There was a weird pain pulsing though him from where Hemlock had pricked him. He ignored it. It couldn’t compare to the huge hole in his heart. The one where Tech had been.

He sniffed. He could still see Tech dangling from the cable, looking up at Wrecker. Hunter told him that it wasn’t his fault that Tech died, but how could Wrecker believe him when Hunter was blaming himself as well? Anyway, Wrecker was supposed to be the strong one. He should have been able to lift up the rail-car and pull Tech to safety.

A whimper brought his attention back to the room and he glanced around. The seven shocktroopers were all dead. Blood splattered the floor and pooled around some of the bodies. Hemlock lay on the bar, pinned in place by a stunning set of vibroknives, while the Mandalorian loomed over him.

I wonder if the Mandalorian will let me take a look at those knives, Wrecker thought as he pushed aside the pain in his chest.

He wasn’t as good at ignoring his feelings as-as Tech, but he could do it, if he really had to. And, right now, he had to so he could focus on the bastard who’d tried to hurt his family. Wrecker tried to get up only . . . only his legs weren’t working properly. They felt weird and heavy, like someone had sedated him. He frowned and tried harder to get to his feet, despite the binders on his wrists. But, still he couldn’t get the legs to work. The heavy feeling in his legs spread through his body, along with the pain. He got to his knees, only his body felt too heavy and his chest felt weirdly tight. He slumped to the floor.

What’s happening to me? he tried to ask.

His mouth wasn’t working either. He tried to breathe deeply, but his chest felt tighter and tighter. Pain pulsed through him, until it felt like someone set him on fire.

“It’s happening,” Hemlock purred.

Wrecker squinted towards the bar where Hemlock lay. Despite the blood leaking from his wounds, he looked absurdly pleased with himself. The Mandalorian grabbed his shirt.

“What did you do?” he snarled.

Hemlock smirked. The Mandalorian growled and slammed Hemlock’s head into the bar, which made a lovely sound. But, another sound caught Wrecker’s attention. A kind of inquisitive gurgle. Wrecker looked around, squinting past the black spots in his vision and saw a creature walking towards him. It looked like a little green person with big ears, black eyes and a ragged robe.

Who are you? Wrecker wanted to ask.

What came out of his mouth was a garbled groan.

He could hear the Hemlock speaking, something about a neurotoxic venom, but it didn’t make sense. The words blurred together as the blackness grew. The last thing Wrecker saw was the little creature reaching a hand towards him.

***

Blackness. Wrecker floated through blackness. It wasn’t scary, not like when he had a nightmare and needed Lula. It was quiet. Like when Omega slipped into his bunk and cuddled close. Was he dead? He was kind of sad if that was the case. He’d hoped that, if he was dead, he could see 99 again. Or . . . or maybe Tech. Kark, he needed to see Tech, even if Tech maybe didn’t want to see him. He needed to smack his stupid genius brother over the head for sacrificing himself and then give him the biggest hug ever. Wrecker knew he wasn’t the best with words, but a hug . . . yeah, a hug could say everything better than Wrecker ever could. Then, he felt  . . . something. A warmth that he hadn’t felt in years, not since he was small enough for Ninety Nine to pick him up and cuddle him close. It was a feeling that somehow, everything would be all right.

The feeling hurt. Wrecker wanted to scream. How, how could everything be all right when Tech was . . .

Tech was . . .

He's not as gone as you think.

Before he could ask what the kriff that meant, there was a blinding white light.

***

Wrecker crashed back into his body. He gasped for air and his lungs spasmed. His body hurt like when he’d fought Muchi and . . . he was on the floor. Why was he on the floor? Why were there binders on his hands? He lay there, trying to breathe. Weirdly, it was getting easier. And, his body hurt less. It didn’t even feel as bad as when they fled Eriadu and—

Suddenly, he remembered. He growled and glared at where Hemlock still lay on the bar. Hemlock had gone even paler and looked much more beaten. The Mandalorian noticed that Wrecker was awake as well.

“Wrecker, are you all right?” the Mandalorian asked, his voice distorted with relief.

“Yeah.”

“How?” Hemlock wheezed.

“Patu,” a voice by Wrecker replied.

Wrecker looked down. He saw that the little creature from earlier stood next to him and had his clawed hand on Wrecker’s arm. Weirdly, from where they touched, Wrecker could feel warmth moving though him, removing the aches and pains in his body. Even his cracked ribs and sore neck seemed better . . . better enough to get rid of this stupid neck brace. As if he heard Wrecker’s thoughts, the creature waved his free hand and the binders and neck brace popped open and fell off Wrecker. His jaw dropped and he stared at the little creature.

“You’re fixing me, aren’t ya?”

The creature giggled and that made Wrecker smile. Although his body felt better, there was still an aching hole in his chest. He shoved the pain aside. Later, he’d sob and scream for Tech . . . after Hemlock had paid for everything he’d done to Wrecker’s family. He sat up and carefully climbed to his feet. Then, he glanced down at the little creature.

“Want a ride?”

“Bah!”

Before Wrecker could scoop up the little thing, he leapt through the air and landed lightly on his shoulder.

“How is that possible?” Hemlock demanded. “There is no way you could have recovered! At the very least, you should be on the floor, chocking on your own—” he cried out as the Mandalorian smashed his head into the bar again.

Then, the Mandalorian lifted up his helmet and set it down on the table. Beneath the helmet was a clone with curly, dark hair and a scar on his face.

“You’re a Reg!” Wrecker yelled as he wondered when Regs got such awesome armour.

“Reg?”

“Regular clone.”

The Reg winced. “I’m not really a Reg.”

 He half-turned to Hemlock. Something dangerous glinted in the Reg’s eye as he said, “I’m Jango Fett.”

Wrecker stared as Hemlock snorted.

“Jango Fett died at the battle of Geonosis.”

The Reg’s—Fett’s—expression was cold. “Yeah, but as someone I know once said ‘Anything is possible with the Force.’ Unfortunately for you.”

Wrecker tried to follow what was going on. He knew who Jango Fett was—the Prime; the source of all the clones including Wrecker—and he knew Fett died early in the Clone Wars. That’s why Tech had said the Kaminoans wanted Omega. So, why was this Reg pretending to be Fett? Unless he really was Fett and this was . . . what did Echo call it?  A situation KFO? Wrecker wished one of his brothers was here to explain this all to him. No, he wished Tech was here to explain this to him. But. . . Tech wouldn’t ever be able to explain things to Wrecker again.

Fett spoke again, “It’s a pity for you that I’m not a clone. A clone might have shown mercy. They’re better people than I am. Now, you’re going to tell me what I want to know and the only thing that’s up for debate is how much pain you’re going to go through before you do. Now, tell me where is Mt Tantiss?”

Hemlock glared and Fett reached over and snapped one of his fingers. Hemlock screamed.

“Where is Mt Tantiss?”

Hemlock smirked. He opened his mouth, but before he could do anything, the creature on Wrecker’s shoulder growled. The creature yanked on the air and something flew out of Hemlock’s mouth. Wrecker caught it in his hand automatically. He frowned at it. It looked like a little, metal pill.

“Good catch,” Fett said.

“What is it?”

“Suicide pill. If that broke, this demagolka would have died without telling us anything.”

“Not happening,” Wrecker said as he clenched his fist and crushed metal pill in his hand.

“I quite agree,” another voice said from behind Wrecker.

Wrecker turned and saw that the speaker stood at the entrance to Cid’s bar. He was a man wearing a cloak and cream-coloured tunic. His copper hair was cut in a hairstyle that reminded Wrecker of Hunter and his blue eyes glinted as he looked around the room.

The man came up to stand beside Fett and Hemlock’s prone form.

“Hello there,” he said pleasantly to Hemlock, as though they were all sitting down to latemeal instead of in the middle of an interrogation. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi and you must be Royce Hemlock, am I correct?”

The name ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ seemed familiar to Wrecker, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before.

Hemlock’s lip curled. “That’s Doctor Hemlock to you.”

Kenobi’s eyes hardened. “You’re not much of a doctor, in my view. All doctors take an oath to do no harm, yet here you are, revelling in the suffering of others. You say he hasn’t talked?” Kenobi said, looking over at Fett.

“No,” Fett replied. “I can make him, though.”

“I know. But we might not have the time for your methods . . . I’m going to try mine.”

The little creature whimpered. Wrecker reached up and ran a hand gently over his ears.

“Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hurt ya. I’ll protect ya, promise.”

Kenobi’s eyes flicked over to the creature. “Grogu, don’t worry. I will protect you from the backlash of what happens here.” Then, he focused his attention on a pale Hemlock. “Now, I’ll give you one opportunity to tell me willingly where your base is. Will you?”

Hemlock remained silent and Kenobi sighed.

“Grogu,” he said to the little creature—Grogu—on Wrecker’s shoulder. “You must never, ever do what I’m about to do.”

Grogu nodded seriously and Kenobi raised his hand.

“What are you going to do to him?” Wrecker asked as he looked Kenobi over.

He couldn’t see any weapons, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have any on him. Tech had once given him a lecture on hidden weapons, so Wrecker knew they existed, even if he didn’t know the details. Kenobi smiled tightly.

“I’m going to use the Force to make him tell me where Mt Tantiss is.”

“The Force? Like a Jedi?”

“No . . . there are no Jedi left.”

Kenobi looked heartbroken . . . almost like he felt some of the pain Wrecker felt inside over Tech. That made sense, though. The Jedi one big family, weren’t they? And, now they were all gone . . .

“Sorry,” Wrecker mumbled.

Kenobi smiled genuinely. “It’s not your fault, dear one. Or any of the clones, regular or otherwise. It was entirely Palpatine. But, we can discuss this a bit later; I have an interrogation to conduct.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” Fett asked.

“Like I said, we don’t have much time.”

Fett nodded reluctantly. Kenobi breathed deeply and then focused on Hemlock. Wrecker swore that the air suddenly got much colder.

“Where is Mt Tantiss?”

Hemlock thrashed and Wrecker could almost feel something pressing down on the man.

“Where is Mt Tantiss?”

Hemlock screamed and writhed, but no words came out. Kenobi gritted his teeth and his frown deepened.

“Where is Mt Tantiss?”

Blood spurted from Hemlock’s nose and eyes. Kenobi continued asking as Hemlock thrashed and bled. Wrecker grimaced and then realised Grogu was whimpering. He pulled Grogu into his arms and let him bury his face in Wrecker’s broad chest.

“It’s all right. It’ll be over soon,” he soothed.

Fett came over and laid a hand on Grogu’s head as well.

“Where is—”

Hemlock screamed and spewed out a series of jumbled coordinates. Fett quickly typed them into his vambrace and smiled.

“Got it.”

Kenobi sagged and Hemlock went limp. Kenobi took a few shaky steps and would have fallen if Wrecker hadn’t grabbed the back of his shirt.

“Easy, I got ya.”

“Thank you,” Kenobi said as Wrecker set him down on his feet.

Still, Wrecker didn’t let go until Fett came over and pulled him close. Kenobi leaned into him and Fett ran a hand through his hair. Wrecker moved away from them, but he couldn’t help hearing their conversation—it wasn’t like they were whispering or anything.  
“Are you all right, cyare?”

“Yes. Using the Force like that is never pleasant. But, I’ll be all right, darling.”

They pulled away and shared a look that reminded Wrecker of those sappy holofilms that Crosshair used to watch. Or the way that Tech used to look at Phee when he thought no one—least of all, her—was watching. Wrecker’s eyes stung and he cleared his throat loudly, because he didn’t want another reminder of Tech. Or to watch the two men making out.  

Kenobi laughed ruefully and stepped out of Fett’s arms. Fett shrugged.

“We’ll continue that later,” Fett promised. “But, what do we do with him?”

He gestured at Hemlock’s limp, bleeding form. He was still breathing . . . but only a little.

Wrecker growled. “He should pay for what he’s done. To all of us clones. To Crosshair . . . and to Tech. He’s the reason Tech is . . .”

He broke off with a sharp keen as the pain in his chest flared. He sniffed and was about to continue, when Kenobi laid a hand on his arm and said something that stopped his world in its tracks.

“Wrecker, Tech is alive.”

Chapter Text

Echo sat back in the co-pilot’s chair and sighed. In the distance, he could see the bustle of Ord Mantel through the windshield of the Havoc Marauder, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and join it just yet. It wasn’t anything new. There were plenty of times where he felt overwhelmed in crowds, when the way people stared at his cybernetics felt like it flayed his skin. Then, he would retreat to the Havoc Marauder until he felt ready to face the world again. And, more often than not, Tech would join him and quietly research on his datapad. Tech seemed to understand Echo’s simultaneous need for quiet and company when he had those moments.

Echo’s throat tightened at the memories and as his eyes moved to the pilot’s seat. The pilot’s seat remained empty because it was Tech’s seat. It would always be Tech’s seat, even if . . . even if Tech wasn’t around to use it.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he angrily wiped them away with his remaining hand. It shouldn’t be like this. He’d already lost his first batch of brothers. He’d lost Ninety Nine. He’d lost his twin, Fives. After that, he’d thought he’d never feel the agony of loss ever again.

But, apparently he’d been wrong because losing Tech felt like his heart had been torn out of his chest.

Echo forced himself to breathe. He had to keep it together. As much as Hunter was trying to cope, it was clear he was two words away from a breakdown. Echo was the oldest of the batch. He had a responsibility to help him and Wrecker though this. Although the two of them had lost Ninety Nine, their ori’vod, they hadn’t ever lost a brother during a mission. They had to be blaming themselves.

Maker knew he was.

 Suddenly, Gonky waddled up behind Echo, bleeping and groaning. The droid looked severely worse for wear, with dents in its rectangular hull and wires poking out of its panel. Still, its lights flickered as it bleeped urgently.

“What is it?” Echo asked.

Gonky bleeped a response. Echo stared at the droid for a moment as he processed what it said.

It can’t be.

Then, Echo stood up and went to the boarding ramp. He looked up and saw a Star Destroyer hovering in the sky. His stomach plummeted. Worse, as he watched, several Imperial shuttles dropped from it and flew towards the landing sites on Ord Mantel. Echo reached up to the hardware on the side of his head and activated his internal comms.

“Hunter, the Empire’s here.”

There was only static.

“Hunter, do you copy?” he tried again. “Wrecker?”

 We’re being jammed, he realised.

He raced back into the Marauder and pressed a button to activate the comm they’d just used to call Phee. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed as static filled the air.

“They’re jamming our comms,” he told Gonky, who let out an annoyed bleep.

Then Gonky whistled a few times.

“No,” Echo grabbed his helmet. “Stay here. I’ll get them.”

He was about to leave the Marauder, when he heard whirring outside. Something was coming. He tensed and slipped into the shadows, just beside the boarding ramp. Echo drew his blaster and set it on stun. As soon as the whirring got closer, Echo leapt out.

“DON’T SHOOT!” AZI shrieked.

Echo tucked his blaster into his holster. “What are you doing here?”

“I was coming to warn you. Cid called the Empire and they want Omega.”

“Did you know about this?”

AZI whirred anxiously. “Omega’s well-being and safety is my priority. The Empire is a threat to her. I would have warned you if I had known about what Cid was planning.”

Echo sighed. “I know. Get in the ship and stay hidden. I’ll get the others.”

“Understood.”

AZI floated deeper into the ship, but then spun around.

“Omega’s well-being relies on the well-being of her care-takers, so you are required to return intact.”

Echo blinked in shock at the droid’s concern.  “I’ll do my best.”

***

Getting to his team was turning out to be easier said than done. There were TK troopers everywhere as well as some of those stupid karking, AT-DT Walkers.

 Seriously, whose bright idea was it to bring those? They can’t even fit in some of the alleyways, he thought angrily.

Echo ducked into another alley as some TK troopers came closer and then clambered up one of the metal ladders to the rooftops. He glanced around.  The flat rooftops extended in all directions, creating a strange kind of pathway, albeit one that changed elevation often. Between the rooftops, he glimpsed the familiar signs of the AT-DT Walkers everywhere. He would never get to Cid’s parlour undetected. His eyes travelled back to one of the Walkers.

If I can get into one of the Walkers, I can use it to clear out some of the troopers. Maybe I could even use the comms to reach Hunter.

Echo moved toward the railing on the rooftop, but then he heard something behind him. He whirled, yanking out his blaster and took aim. He could see someone moving in the darkness.

“Step forward, nice and slow,” he snarled.

“Easy there,” a familiar voice replied.

Someone stepped out of the shadows with both his arms raised. His armour was painted green, with red and gold accents and he had a gaffi stick strapped to his back. It took a moment for Echo to recognise the style of armour. He tightened his grip on the blaster as he tried to work out what a Mandalorian was doing here.

“Who are you?” Echo demanded.

The Mandalorian ignored his question and said, “I just received information that your sister, Omega, is being hunted down by Stormtroopers.”

Echo was going to ask what the kark a Stormtrooper was, but then he registered the more important information.

Omega was in danger.

Omega was in danger.

Echo tensed.

“How do you know that they’re after Omega?”

“The Boss’ father was there when Hemlock tried to blackmail Hunter into giving her up,” a woman said as she dropped onto the rooftop.

She was dressed all in black, other than her orange helmet, which almost covered her entire face. But Echo recognised her immediately.

“Fennec Shand,” Echo growled and pointed the blaster at her.

Shand laughed. “That’s still flattering.”

“Fennec,” the Mandalorian said, a warning in his voice.

“Sorry, Boss.”

“What are you doing here?” Echo snarled.

“Helping you.”

“Not likely.”

“We are here to help,” the Mandalorian insisted, “and every moment we waste, the danger to Omega grows.”

He’s not wrong, Echo thought uneasily.

Out loud, he asked, “Why should I trust you?”

“Because my only aim here is to secure the safety of Omega. As my vod says ‘children are the future’,” the Mandalorian said.

“As for me, I’m loyal to the Boss, here,” Shand said. “Besides, I helped Omega escape Cad Bane. I’m not about to hurt the kid now.”

Echo wanted to demand more information, but he could hear the troopers moving through the streets. He couldn’t waste any more time.

“Fine. But, if either of you harm a hair on her head, I’ll tear you apart, you understand.”

The Mandalorian chuckled. “Of course.”

 Echo gritted his teeth. “Now, you were saying about Hemlock and Hunter.”

“Hemlock obviously doesn’t know that clones have the Mandalorian views on ade. There was no way he’d ever give her up and he obviously told her to run,” the Mandalorian said, “Anyway, my buir sent a message that Hunter ran out of the bar to go find Omega when he heard her scream.”

Echo went cold at the thought of Omega screaming.

“Did Hunter find her?”

 “We don’t think so. My buir stayed with Wrecker since the demagolka Hemlock tried to poison him.”

“What?!”

“He’s fine,” the Mandalorian quickly reassured. “My vod’ad Grogu fixed him up. But, we still have a problem.”

He turned to the street and gestured at the TK troopers.

“I doubt that even your team can fight their way through so many troopers.”

Echo tilted his head. “I’m guessing you have a suggestion?”

“I do. If we create enough chaos, all the Stormtroopers will come running here and leave a path open for Hunter to find Omega. He’s got those enhanced senses that can track her, am I right?”

“Yes,” Echo said cautiously, uncomfortable that this random Mandalorian knew so much about him and his brothers. “And, if I can get into one of the AT-DT Walkers, I can turn it on the troopers. But, they’ll spot me if I get anywhere near it.”

“Then, I’ll make sure that all eyes are on me.”

The Mandalorian grabbed the railing, but, before he could vault himself over, he turned to Echo and said, “Tech is alive.”

“What!” Echo yelled as the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

 Tech was alive? That—that wasn’t possible! Tech had fallen. There was no way that he could survive a fall like that.

But . . .

But . . .

Echo himself had come back even though everyone believed him dead. And, if he could cheat death, then someone as smart as Tech certainly could. Then, a yell yanked him out of his panicked thoughts. Echo looked down into the street. The Mandalorian walked directly in front of the Stormtroopers and drew his gaffi stick. They all trained their blasters on him, but the Mandalorian looked utterly relaxed as he surveyed them.

“I offer you only one chance: lay down your weapons and surrender. Otherwise, I will flood these streets with a river of your blood,” he said, his voice echoing around the street.

Shand sighed. “Of course, the Boss had to be dramatic.”

She slung her rifle off her shoulder and took aim at one of the troopers. But, Echo was more focused on the Mandalorian.

“Who the kark are you?” One of the TK troopers demanded as they stepped forward, their blaster trained on the Mandalorian.

“A Mandalorian, like my father before me. Now, what’s your answer?”

“Get out of our way before we kill you.”

The Mandalorian laughed darkly. “Wrong answer.”

The Mandalorian lunged forward, straight into the TK troopers. The troopers fired, but their blaster bolts ricocheted off the Mandalorian’s armour without slowing him down. He reached the first troopers and swung his gaffi stick in a wide arc. It smashed through the plastiod and sent fragments of trooper armour scattering like water droplets. As they scrambled to get away from him, he followed up his attack with brutal strikes that left bodies in his wake. One of the troopers tried to tackle him, but the Mandalorian cooly snapped his neck. Then, he used the sharp end of the gaffi stick to impale a trooper, kicked the body off the end and smashed open the helmet of another trooper who’d gotten too close.

What the kriff is that stick made of? It can’t just be wood . . .

The troopers tried to gain distance, but the Mandalorian didn’t let them recover. He scythed through them, using the one end of the gaffi stick to bludgeon, and the other to pierce through the weak points in the armour. Soon there was a trail of bodies behind him and, with a sick jolt, Echo realised that there really was a river blood slowly forming behind the Mandalorian.

Then, he noticed one of the troopers who’d been fleeing suddenly crumpled. In fact, now that he looked, he realised that someone had been picking off any troopers who’d tried to flee. He glanced at Shand and she saluted him, before taking out another trooper with a shot that went straight through the armour.

Kriff, who packs firepower like that? Not even Crosshair’s Firepuncher could do that.   

“Are you just going to stand there, or do you want in on the fun?” she asked without looking up from her scope.

“I’m going, don’t worry,” Echo grumbled.

“Good. The Boss can handle several squads of troopers, but even he has his limits.”

The Mandalorian activated a flamethrower and the screams of TK troopers filled the air.

“I can see that,” Echo said drily and she laughed.

Echo looked around and spotted the familiar sight of an AT-DT Walker lurching in their direction.  Echo took a moment to judge the distance between the rooftop and the Walker. It wasn’t too far and the height was short enough that he’d survive the fall if he missed.

Survive the fall.

An image of Tech plummeting though the clouds shot through his mind and left him gasping for air.

“Do you need me to hold your hand while you jump?” Shand asked.

Despite how harsh the words were, there was a playful undertone to them. Almost like . . . kriff, it reminded him a little of Fives. Or Crosshair.

The agony flared in his chest. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go through losing another brother.

“Was he serious?” Echo manages to choke out.

Somehow the Shand knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Yes,” she said immediately.

“If this is some kind of joke, I swear—”

“The Boss doesn’t joke about things like this and nor do I. But, if you don’t believe us, fine. Once we finish off these Stormtroopers, we’ll prove it to you.”

“Fine,” Echo said shortly.

He turned back to the Walker and backed away from the edge of the rooftop. Although the fall was survivable, he didn’t want to crash into the troopers on the ground. Then, he nodded at Shand and took a running leap towards the Walker. For a moment, he soared through the air. Then, he landed and immediately, tucked himself into a roll. He tumbled and fought to get his feet under him as he skidded to the edge of the Walker. He could hear panicked shouting from inside the Walker as he raced for the hatch. He yanked it up and fired a stunblast at the one trooper. As soon as he fell, Echo fired two more stunblasts at the driver. Echo reached in and yanked their limp bodies out of the Walker. They fell onto the troopers below, causing them to redirect their fire at Echo. He jerked away from the edge of the Walker and slipped inside the darkness of the driver’s nest. The layout, the type of seat, the controls—they were all so familiar to Echo. But, he had an advantage most people didn’t. He jammed his scomp into the controls and felt his mind link to the system.

He could never really describe what it felt like to connect his mind with a computer, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t tried on several occasions. It felt like his mind spread out so that everything that the computer connected to suddenly was Echo. He could feel the machinery in a distant, tingling way, like a limb that had gone to sleep. Echo turned the Walker to face the streets. Through the Walker’s targeting system, he could see the Mandalorian still tearing through TK troopers, even as another group of them reached him. Echo took aim and fired, making the troopers scatter. They fired on him, but their bolts reflected harmlessly off the Walker. He fired several more rounds, when he noted another Walker lurching towards them. He swung his cannons to the new threat and took aim. Years of experience told him to target the weak leg joints. He fired and the leg joint collapsed.  The Walker collapsed onto the screaming TK troopers. Yet, still more TK troopers marched towards them. Echo smiled grimly. The more troopers attacked him and the Mandalorian, the less there were to hunt Omega.  

Come and get me, you pathetic nat-born military rejects.

As he fired the cannons, he hoped that Hunter could find Omega soon.

Chapter Text

Crosshair thrashed involuntarily against the bindings as the droid dug its needle deeper into his neck.  Vaguely, he heard voices speaking, but they faded in and out of focus, like a bad hologram. Then, the agony intensified as the droid moved to a higher level of torture. Pain lanced through him. He bit his lip to keep from screaming.

The Empire had taken everything from him, but he would not give it the satisfaction of making him scream.

He refused.

“Enough.”

Crosshair sagged as the droid withdrew its needle from his neck. For a moment, all he could do was breathe as the aftershocks of torture racked his body.

In.

 Out.

 In.

Out.

Then, his awareness of the world began to return. The cold gurney beneath him. The straps tying him down so tightly that they’d sliced open his flesh and had left dried blood on his clothes and skin. He thought the restraints were a bit overdone, since they’d even strapped his head down to the gurney. Then, he noticed other things: the whirring of the medical droids—or rather, torture droids, given how they were being used here; the smells of antiseptic and damp; the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He reluctantly opened his watering eyes so he could see the shapes of TK troopers and Karr moving in his peripheral vision.

“What are Dr Hemlock’s instructions, Dr Karr?”  One of the TK troopers asked.

“Dr Hemlock has instructed us to cease trying to extract information from Crosshair. You’ll take him to one of the cells.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

The TK troopers moved into position on either side of Crosshair as the gurney floated down the corridors and deeper into Mt Tantiss. It almost made Crosshair want to laugh. He had been strapped to this damn table for weeks, with an IV and catheter taking care of his basic bodily functions. He couldn’t have fought back even if he’d wanted to.

And, maybe, he didn’t want to.

It was his choice to stay with the Empire after the chip came out. It was his decision that got Mayday killed. His brothers had seen sense the moment that Order 66 had been given and fled. If he’d gone with them on Kamino . . .

He jerked his thoughts away from spiralling and tried to concentrate on what was happening around him. Admittedly, there wasn’t much happening. The ceilings above him all looked the kriffing same.

Then, they moved into a new room, a much smaller one, that had a whirring ray shield for a door.

A cell, Crosshair realized.

Karr approached, her eyes half-hidden behind her red glasses. She bent down and Crosshair hissed as she removed his catheter and the IV in his arm. Although it hurt, Crosshair knew that she did it in a professional way, one that wasn’t meant to cause unnecessary pain.

He knew too well what it felt like when people wanted you to hurt. 

“Get him onto the bed,” Karr commanded the TK troopers as she backed away from Crosshair.

The TK troopers looked at each other. “Erm, sir . . . the bed doesn’t have any restraints.”

“I'm well aware of that. Now, move him onto the bed.”

The TK troopers shrugged and then grabbed him. Their fingers dug into his arms as lifted him up and tossed him roughly onto the bed. He grunted and then fought to sit up. But, his limbs refused to cooperate and soon he was panting hard without having done more than raise his head.

“Leave us,” she ordered the TK troopers as she watched him struggle. “That’s an order.”  

The TK troopers hesitated, but then moved out of the room with the red ray-shield flickering into place behind them. Almost immediately, Karr’s face softened, becoming much more human, despite the scientist’s uniform she wore. Crosshair glared at her. He wished his body was strong enough to tackle her, grab her access card and—and what?

He had nowhere to go. Trying to escape was pointless.

With that, he flopped back onto his bed and wriggled until he was on his side, facing her. She watched him move with a strange expression on her face. Crosshair would have called it sympathy, except she was an Imperial scientist and they didn’t have any sympathy in their souls.

For a long moment, neither of them moved or spoke. Then, she tilted her head and pulled out her comm. She looked at it for a while, until she spoke.

“I had sisters a long time ago. We were a small batch, but we were very close.”

It took a moment for Crosshair to understand, but, when he did, he almost jerked upright. “Wait, you’re a kriffing clone?”

“Yes, I’m a female clone of Jango Fett. You can’t have believed that Omega was the only one?”

Crosshair’s mouth worked. Now that she’d spoken, he could see echoes of Omega, of his brothers, kark of himself, in her face. They were there in the shape of her features, her colouring, even her facial expressions.

Kark it.

Karr continued speaking as she ignored Crosshair’s shock. “I was their ori’vod, so I had to protect my sisters. That meant that I learnt how to be a scientist, a medical assistant, because that’s what they wanted from me. I had to be the best so that they’d never have any reason to punish my batch for my failures. But, I never hurt anyone . . . until one day. They wanted me to vivisect one of the male clones.”

Crosshair frowned and was about to ask what ‘vivisect’ meant, when he heard Tech’s voice in his ear.

To vivisect is to dissect a living animal for medical experimentation.

His stomach churned as Karr’s face became haunted.

“I refused. I didn’t want to kill someone. Then . . . the scientist said that if I didn’t, they would kill my sisters. I had no choice. I killed that clone.” Her voice became bitter. “The funny thing is, when I returned to our rooms, there was no one there. I looked for them for several rotations until . . .  I found out that my sisters had all been decommissioned. After all, since I was such a good medical assistant, it was a waste to keep the rest alive. But, if I’d known that my sisters were dead, I—”

“Why are you telling me this?” Crosshair hissed.

She blinked and adjusted her glasses in a way that practically screamed Tech. “So, you can understand my actions when I play this recording for you. I don’t want anyone to go through what I did while I wondered if my sisters were alive or dead.”

Suddenly, it became harder to breathe.

Her voice gentled. “I’m sorry . . . for everything.”

 She pressed a button on her comm and Hemlock’s hologram flickered into existence. A moment later, Karr’s hologram joined his.

“Good evening, Dr Hemlock,” Karr’s hologram greeted Hemlock.

“Good evening, Dr Karr. Has Nala Se begun cooperating?”

“No. She keeps insisting that what the Emperor wants is not possible and that we are wasting our time.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Sir, the Kaminoans—”

“Don’t know everything about cloning. We will accomplish what the Emperor wants and prove that it is possible. Now . . . perhaps the right incentive will change her mind about assisting us?” Hemlock said as he fiddled with his one glove.

“Sir?” Karr’s hologram asked as a flicker of emotion passed over her face.

“I have received intel that Omega is on Ord Mantel at present, receiving medical attention.”

“No!” Crosshair rasped, but the hologram of Hemlock didn’t react.

“It’s a recording,” Karr said gently, but Crosshair didn’t pay attention as Hemlock responded.

“I’m going there to collect her myself.”

“What shall I do with Crosshair?” Karr asked.

Hemlock raised an eyebrow. “You use its name?”

“Clones respond better when you use their names.”

“Well, you’d be an expert on that Dr Karr.” Hemlock laughed. “I leave Crosshair’s treatment in your capable hands. It doesn’t matter any longer since I cannot collect the set.”

Dread clenched its fist around Crosshair’s heart as he processed the words. His throat tightened.

No. Kriff, no. 

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Those defective clones, Clone force 99, were here on Eriadu. I found a tracker on my ship, so I assume that they were attempting to locate their missing member.”

Crosshair made an involuntary noise of pain. Those di’kuts!  He’d told them to hide. Why didn’t they hide?!

The recording of Hemlock continued to speak. “Unfortunately, they ran afoul of another group of insurgents and one of their members was killed in the crossfire.”

Tears burnt Crosshair’s eyes. Who? Who had his karking, idiot decisions gotten killed? It couldn’t be the kid, since she was getting medical attention. So, was it Hunter, who’d willingly sacrifice himself for the others? Echo, the ori’vod he’d always secretly wanted? Wre—

“Which of them was killed?”

“CT-9903.”

Tech.

Crosshair doubled over. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be true. Not Tech.

No.

No

No!

NO!

It couldn’t be true! Tech couldn’t be dead. He could think of a solution to anything. He was too smart to be dead. He-He-he just couldn’t be dead.

Crosshair opened his mouth to argue—and a scream ripped out of his mouth.

It turned out the Empire did know how to make him scream.

Chapter Text

Phee stared down at the artefacts she’d recovered from her last adventure. Some of them were incredibly valuable, like the decorated bowl made from Chandrilan porcelain. Others were valuable only to a select few people, like the Pantoran spoon that was used in betrothal ceremonies. She grinned as she sorted through the pile, dividing it into groups: what could be returned to refugees on Pabu; what could be stored in the Archium and what could be sold to cover her own expenses. The first two piles were significantly larger than the third, but that was always the case. She reached for another item and her grin dropped. It was a Twi’lek kalikori  and it now had several deep scratches along the surface of one of the ornaments. She carefully laid down the kalokori and went to the front room of her home. Like all the houses in Pabu, it made from a domed shell and furnished with sturdy, wooden items. Colourful glass lanterns lit the room and they matched the patterns pillows and vases. She moved around the low chairs to one of the cupboards and hauled out a massive case. Inside it were all the materials that a repairman of rare artefacts could possibly need: tweezers, dyes, oils, rust removal solution, polishes, paints, brushes, chisels, blades, magnifying goggles and sealers. She usually tried to repair the items herself, since she enjoyed the work. It was soothing.

She hefted the case into her arms and placed it on the table where she’d been working. Then, she pulled out the goggles.

She paused as she thought of Tech and their awkward goodbye. She admitted that she hadn’t handled it well, but she’d been hurt that he’d planned to leave without even telling her. Still, in hindsight, she couldn’t really have expected anything less. Tech had stated repeatedly that they weren’t used to working with people outside their squad, so the thought of someone worrying about them when they left might not have crossed their minds. She’d decided almost as soon as they’d left that would apologise to Tech when they got back. Maybe she’d even try to get some alone time with him after things had settled a bit. She could show him some of the new artifacts in the Archium. He’d been fascinated by everything there, so she knew he’d adore it.

Her foolish heart fluttered as she thought of the lights in his eyes when he was intrigued by something.

Phee, focus. You’re not some youngling with a crush.

She shook her head to dislodge thoughts of Tech and pulled the goggles over her eyes. Immediately, everything around her seemed larger and brighter. She blinked a few times for her depth perception to adjust and then looked at the artefacts. Stomach twisting, she brought up the kalikori for a better look. Sure enough, there were four deep scratches on the wood of the ornament, but not deep enough to damage the integrity of the structure. She sighed in relief. She could fix it. She reached over for the wood fillers and started comparing them to the wood of the kalikori. Although she had stains that could assist in making the filling match, it was always better to get as close to the original wood from the outset. She had just found a suitable match when she noticed the comm system flashing with a familiar number. Phee grinned and pulled off her goggles as she went over to answer the call from the Havoc Marauder.

A moment later, Hunter’s image flickered to life.

“Hey there! I was wondering—” she broke off as she registered how Hunter looked.

Kriff, it was bad. His armour looked like it had been pummelled and there were scrapes on his face that were visible even through the blue tinge of the hologram. But, the worst part was the devastated look in his eyes.

 “Hunter, what happened?” she asked.

“The mission went badly. There was another group of rebels there, one we didn’t know about . . . they blew the building up.”

“Kriff,” Phee breathed. “Are you guys hurt? Is T-Omega all right?”

The slip caused Hunter’s composure to crack and dread leaked into Phee.

Please, no.

“Omega will be fine. B-But . . . he . . . Tech . . .” 

Phee felt the world crashing down around her. It was getting harder to breathe. But she needed to know for sure.

“What happened to Tech?” Phee whispered as there was a roaring in her ears.

“Tech . . . he . . .” Hunter’s throat worked, but nothing came out.

A part of Phee wanted to reach across the galaxy and shake him; another part of her wanted Hunter never to speak.

If he never told her, she could pretend it never happened.

There was movement on the other side of the call and Echo leant forward so that she could see him too. He looked as battered as Hunter. She could see places where the wires poked free from the dented panelling of his cybernetics and the bruises across his skin.

“He sacrificed himself to save us all.” Echo said as his shoulders sagged.

Hunter doubled over and an awful mangled sound left his mouth. It was that horrific noise that finally pierced through the noise in her head. She felt something painful clawing inside her chest and she tightened her grip on the table. Tears stung her eyes.

“Come to Pabu,” she said after her throat worked for a moment.

“What?” Hunter and Echo stared at her in shock.

“All of you come back to Pabu.”

“Phee, Tech—”

“I know he’s gone!” Phee snapped. “I know that!  But, I didn’t just invite him here. I invited all of you . . . you’re my friends. Y-you all have a place here. Come back and . . . and we’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you,” Hunter said, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Phee nodded shortly and sniffed.

She swiped angrily at her eyes. “Comm when you are on the way.”

“We will.”

Hunter sighed and turned off the comm.

As soon as he was gone, the grief tore itself free from her chest. Tear streamed down her face and a wail left her mouth. Her legs buckled.

It was true.

It was true.

Tech—her ‘Brown Eyes’—was gone.

Gone.

She’d never see those brown eyes light up with interest over some of the artefacts she brought to Pabu. She’d never hear him rattle of an absurd amount of information about some obscure topic.

She’d never be able to apologise.

She screamed until her voice was raw, but the stupid, karking tears kept coming. Why did they keep coming? The world swam in and out of focus. Vaguely, she heard swearing and a pair of arms scooped her up and pulled her close to a broad chest. After a moment, she recognised who held her.

Shep.

Of course her brother—well, brother in every way but blood—heard her scream.

“Shep . . .” she tried to speak, but the words tangled with her sobs.

His hand moved comfortingly up and down her back and he murmured comforting nonsense in her ear, just like he did for Lyana. Somehow, the motion soothed her enough for her to rasp out an explanation.

“Brown Eyes. . . Shep . . . Tech—he’s dead.”

The words ripped deeper as they left her mouth and she pressed her face into Shep’s shoulder.

Shep shuddered and then, somehow, held her even tighter.

“I’m so sorry, Phee.”

She sniffed. “Why am I even crying—it’s—it’s not like—”

“He was your friend, wasn’t he? At the very least?” Shep cut in gently.

She nodded and hissed at the new wave of pain crashing through her.

“Then, you have every right to grieve.” 

She curled against him one last time, before trying to find her composure. She couldn’t just hide in Shep’s arms like a child. It wasn’t the first time she’d lost people. She’d be fine.

She knew she’d be fine.

So why the kriff did it hurt so badly?

As she scrambled to find some sense of normalcy, the comm went off again. Shep and her both glanced at it. Shep reached out to answer.

“Let it ring,” Phee snapped.

“Phee, this isn’t your usual comm channel. I-it’s the one Tech set up for you.”

Phee clenched her fists as the words registered. Shep was right. And, any call on this channel had to be urgent. Shep helped her to her feet and she yanked off her bandana and used it to scrub at her face.

“Better?” she asked Shep. “Wait, don’t tell me. I know I'm a mess.”

She pulled the bandana back on and hit the answer button. A hologram appeared. It was a man in a tattered poncho, though she could see glimpses of battered armour beneath it. He had a tan complexion and blonde hair shaved scarily close to his skull. She’d never seen him before but, his face was familiar to her. He looked a lot like Echo . . . which meant she was talking to another one of their brothers.

“You’re Phee Genoa?” he asked warily.

“Depends on who’s asking,” she said, lashing together her composure to make it through the call.

“I’m the Batch’s brother, Captain Rex.”

Phee folded her arms. “Can you prove that?”

“Can you prove you’re Phee Genoa?” he retorted.

Well, he certainly sounded like their brother.

“Echo gave me a phrase to confirm my identity: A liberator of wonders is another name for a thief.”

Rex snorted. “I have one too. Keeradaks fly serenely over Skako Minor.”

Yep, that was the phrase Echo had told her—though she’d love to find out the story behind that. Someday, when her heart could handle someone that wasn’t Tech telling the story.

Phee nodded. “That’s enough for me. So, what do you need?”

“I need to land with my troops. We have a raid to plan once the Batch get back from Ord Mantel.”

Phee went rigid. “From where?” 

“Ord Mantell,” Rex gave her a long look. “I take it you know what that means?”

“They went back to Cid?”

Cid, who’d warned them not to cross her. Cid, who Phee knew couldn’t be trusted. Cid, who’d do anything for money—and to save her own skin.

“It’s a trap. They’re going to be betrayed,” she snapped.

“I know. I’ve already got a team handling it.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t comfort me,” she retorted as Shep put a hand on her shoulder.

Rex glared. “It should since you’d never get there in time.”

Phee clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the table. He was right, Stars-damnit. Even her fast ship would never reach Ord Mantel before Cid sold them out to the Empire.

“Your team better be good,” she gritted out.

“They’re the best we’ve got,” another voice said.

Someone else appeared on the hologram. It was a tall, Togruta woman with chevron patters on her lekku. She wore grey armour, though one of the vambraces didn’t match and she had white markings on her face.

“Who are you?”

“Ahsoka Tano.”

“Not the Ahsoka I know,” Rex muttered.

Ahsoka chuckled. “I’m not that different. Just older.”

“Are you two going to banter, or can we get back to the conversation,” Phee said flatly as she glared at the two of them.

“Yes. The team we sent is very experienced in freeing people from the clutches of the Empire . . . and disappearing afterwards. The team consists of three Mandalorians, two Jedi, an assassin and a military commander.”

“Jedi?” Shep repeated, coming into view of the comm. “There are Jedi with them?”

“Yes, why?”

“We were told they had been wiped out.”

“Not all of them,” Ahsoka acknowledged.  “And, you are?”

“Mayor Shep Hazard. It’s my village that you’d be landing in if you came here.”

“Good to meet you.”

Shep frowned. “Before I decide, I need to ask if the Empire can follow you?” 

“No, sir.”

“And, are your troops safe?” Phee asked as she tapped her temple meaningfully.

His eyes widened and he nodded. “We’re all safe. Each of us had the surgery.”

“That’s good enough for me.” She turned to Shep and waited for his decision.

Shep chewed his lip as he thought deeply. But, Phee knew his decision even before he nodded. Shep wasn’t the kind of person to turn away people in need—or pass up the opportunity to help others. “You’re all welcome here. But, I must ask that you keep the co-ordinates that I send to yourself. I don’t want many people knowing about our planet.”

“Understood. Now, I’d better go get everyone organised.

“Wait,” Phee interrupted as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know about Ord Mantel?”

Rex glanced at Ahsoka as she leant forward. ‘What do you know of the Force?”

“It’s some kind of mystical entity worshipped by various people across the galaxy,” Phee said.

“Have you heard of the saying ‘Anything is possible with the Force’?” 

“Yes.” Ahsoka grinned and Phee raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s all you’re giving me? Some cryptic mystic babble?”

“No. I’ll tell you exactly what’s possible with the Force.”

“Really? What?”

And, then Ahsoka said something that shattered reality as Phee knew it.

“Time travel.”

Chapter Text

Omega ran. Her feet slapped against the duraconcrete streets of Ord Mante as she tried to concentrate on getting back to Echo. She’d followed this route hundreds of times with her brothers, but it was suddenly hard to focus on what was going on around her. Everything kept moving in and out of focus, like a broken datapad. One moment, she’d be stumbling in the dark; the next she’d be squinting as blinding light with no origin almost blinded her. It was even worse with the sounds: the hum of electricity in the wires, the voices chattering, the ships coming and going. But, amongst all of that noise, she could hear the thump of Imperial Walkers and the footsteps marching in sync. It was those last two sounds that kept her moving, despite her pounding headache.

Come on, Omega. It’s not much father. Just keep going.

She turned a corner, stifled a yelp and ducked back out of sight. There were TK troopers around the corner and they were blocking the path to Echo. She knew there was another route, but it still required that she cross the street to get to it. She cautiously unclipped her bow from her back and slipped it onto her arm. She couldn’t shoot them all—she wasn’t Crosshair—but she could shoot out the lights or something and create a diversion. She took a deep breath, getting ready to draw, when a wave of pain crashed into her. Her head throbbed and her eyes watered. She gritted her teeth and tried to remain standing, but her legs buckled as the world dissolved around her.  

Crosshair knelt in front of her. His hair was even shorter than the last time she’d seen him. He was thinner too, much thinner, and dressed in a grey uniform. A moment later she realised that it was a patient’s uniform. Why was he wearing that? She looked around and took in the solid, durasteel walls and single bunk bolted to the one wall. There were no windows, only one light and dangerous red ray shield blocked the only entrance.

This is a prison cell.

She wanted to move around, but she couldn’t get her limbs to work. Panic tightened her chest. What was going on? Was she a prisoner inside her own body?

Watch

The word floated across her mind and she felt a warmth flood her. She relaxed, despite whatever strangeness was happening. The warm feeling felt like-like when all of her brothers were together on the Havoc Marauder with her, safe and sound.

S he watched as a pained expression flashed across Crosshair’s face. He tore off a scrap of fabric from his uniform and then went over to a metal tray. It looked like the ones they had in the mess hall back on Kamino. He poured a little water onto the cloth and then held it out to her.

“Kid,” he said, his voice much gentler than she ever thought it would be. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Omega felt herself blink and rasped, “What?”

“You’ve got  . . . stuff . . . all over you,” he said as he gestured at her.

She looked down and saw that she was wearing the same patients uniform as Crosshair. Except, it was splattered with grime and what looked like vomit and dried blood. Now that she was focusing, she could smell how awful it was.

Still, she flinched away when Crosshair reached for her. “You shouldn’t use your water. You know we don’t get much.” 

He moved closer and she shrank back again. Crosshair raised an eyebrow. “Kid, do you want to look like—” “What does it matter what I look like when Hunter and Wrecker and Echo are—they—they’re—”

Omega sobbed as grief tore through her. She screamed silently in her head, unable to make her mouth do what she wanted. It couldn’t be. This . . . this version of her couldn’t mean that all her brothers were . . . were like Tech. To her shock, Crosshair dropped the cloth, moved closer and pulled her against his chest.

“Easy. Easy,” he murmured as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her spine.

Before he could say anything more, the ray shield dropped. Omega looked up as several TK troopers stepped into the cell, along with a grey-haired man in an Imperial uniform. Crosshair reacted quickly, pushing Omega behind him.

“ Take the girl. Nala Se wants her for further testing” the man in the uniform said flatly.

Crosshair growled, “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”

Omega came to with a whimper. Her head pounded. Bile surged up her throat and she struggled not to retch. She knew the TK troopers were nearby, even if she wasn’t sure where. She forced herself onto all fours and then opened her eyes. The world swirled sickeningly, and she almost retched again, before it settled into something familiar. She glanced around, but the street was deserted still, thankfully. She listened carefully and heard the voices of the TK troopers just around the corner. She breathed deeply and tried to get her bearings. What had just happened to her? It had been far too real to be a daydream. She didn’t think that you could feel and smell things in daydreams. And, she’d felt the cool air on her skin, the warmth of Crosshair’s body when he’d held her, the metal floor pushing against her knees and she’d smelt her reeking uniform. Was—was it a hallucination? Was there something wrong with her? Ever since Tech—

Ever since Eriadu, everything felt weird. Too loud, too bright. Her head hadn’t stopped hurting either, though thankfully it wasn’t as bad as earlier. She knew that it wasn’t normal to have headaches like this.  She’d have to ask AZI if there was something wrong with her. 

But, if I want a chance to talk to AZI, then I need to get out of here first.

She took a deep breath and then climbed to her feet. She readied herself to take a shot, when she felt something warm against her shoulder.

This way.

It was the same warm feeling she’d had in the whatever-it-was. She retracted the bow and slunk away from the corner and down another alley, away from the better-lit main streets. The feeling led her through the streets of Ord Mantel, occasionally nudging her to cut through a shop or an alleyway. It continued guiding her until she came to a fork in the road. Luckily, she recognised the right path: it was one of the ways that led back to the Havoc Marauder. But, the feeling was insisting that she go left. She gritted her teeth. She wanted to follow the strange, warm feeling. But, Hunter said that she had to get to Echo.

But, Hunter also says I must trust my instincts, so what am I supposed to do?

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, frozen with indecision, when she heard a shocked yell behind her. She whirled and saw a TK trooper racing towards her, closely followed by the rest of their squad. She drew an energy arrow and fired, hitting him straight in the chest. She didn’t have the time to congratulate herself on such a good shot as his squad opened fire. She ran for cover behind a nearby crate, when a bolt hit her arm. She screamed as the smell of cooking meat filled the air. She chocked back a sob as she pressed her back against the crate.

“Hold fire! We need her alive!”

Good to know, she thought desperately.

She forced herself to move away from the crate and ducked into the first open door she saw. It was some sort of bar, judging by rows of coloured bottles on the one wall and the semi-sweet smell of smoke. She barrelled through, keeping her injured arm tucked tightly against her chest and out into the street on the other side.

Forward.

She followed the suggestion and ran down the street, keeping her eyes peeled for any TK troopers. The streets were empty, though. She guessed that the citizens of Ord Mantel didn’t want to get in the way of the Empire. She reached some sort of store with a vivid neon sign blinking above it, before ducking into another alley. At the end of the alley was a broken fence that she was able to squeeze through—though she nearly screamed when she scrapped against her injured arm against the fence. She looked around. She was in some sort of courtyard, one that was currently being used as a trash disposal, if the dozens of foul-smelling bags were anything to go by. She wrinkled her nose, but kept moving past the bags and out into the street. Then, she froze. She could hear the familiar thump of the Walkers getting closer. She backed up and turned around.  There were several TK troopers blocking the way back through the fence.

She was caught.

One of the TK troopers stepped forward and tilted their helmet towards her. “End of the line. Now, are you going to come quietly or are we going to have to stun you?”

She told him to go do something that would have probably had Echo yelling at her. The TK trooper sighed and gestured. The other troopers raised their blasters and Omega ducked behind the trash bags. She felt the energy of stun rings crackle through the air as they flew over her hiding place. Then, one of the TK troopers cried out. Omega frowned and then peeked out. Her eyes widened as two blaster bolts shots took out some of the TK troopers. There was someone firing on them from one of the nearby rooftops.

As she watched the person took out more TK troopers with precise shots. The TK troopers tried to return fire, but the person ducked out of sight. A second later, they lobbed something into the mess of troopers. It look like a—Omega ducked.

“Scatter!” the one of the troopers yelled.

Too late. A ring of energy shot outwards, knocking out most of the remaining troopers. The three that were left stood there, swaying slightly. A few moments later, another figure appeared. They were wearing familiar armour and goggles.

Agony shot through her that had nothing to do with her injured arm.

It couldn’t be.

The person attacked just as the remanent of the stun-grenade wore off the three TK troopers. The one tried to blast him, but the person got in close and rammed his knee into their stomach. As the trooper doubled over, the person pulled their blaster from their hands and smashed it over their head. The other two troopers lunged at the person, but he moved quickly, weaving between their attacks, before retaliating. A precise hit to the neck downed the one trooper. The person then dropped the other one by kicking out their knee and then smashing their helmet against the wall. As soon as they were down, he scooped up a blaster and fired stun rings at the attackers.

“There. That should keep them down.”

The figure turned to look at her. It was Tech.

But, that wasn’t possible!

Hunter had told her that Tech hadn’t made it. So, did that mean that she finally lost her mind? She couldn’t be crazy. She didn’t want to be crazy! She shook, but whether from pain or fear she couldn’t tell.

Not-Tech pushed up the visor on his helmet and stared at her in concern. “Omega, are you all right?”

It sounded like him. Tears stung her eyes. It sounded so much like him. Why did it have to sound like him? She didn’t need a reminder that her brother was . . . gone.

“Omega, you appear to be going into shock,” Not-Tech said as he stepped forward. “I have something that—”

“Don’t come any closer!”  she screamed.

Not-Tech froze and his eyes went wide. “Omega?”

“Just-just stay over there!” she yelled again as she scrambled away from the trash bags. But, Not-Tech blocked the only exit, so Omega could only back up until she crashed into the duraconcrete wall of the building.  

“Omega, you are clearly injured. I only want to assist you.”

“You can’t assist me!” She sniffed as, despite her best efforts, the tears started to fall. “You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re dead!”

 At any other time, the shocked look on Not-Tech’s face would have been hilarious. But now it just made Omega hurt more.

“What?”

“You-you fell. Wrecker-Wrecker tried to pull you into the car, b-but  it was all falling and—and Hunter said that you-you—” She sobbed suddenly, unable to continue.

“Omega . . .” Not-Tech trailed off. “Omega, I assure you that I am alive.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s like—like the other thing I saw earlier with Crosshair. It’s not real.”

No matter how much I want it to be.

Not-Tech frowned. “I do not know what incident occurred with Crosshair—although I have a theory—but I can prove to you that I’m alive.” 

He held out a hand. “If you touch me, you will see that I am tangible. Hallucinations are usually visual or auditory, not tactile. Thus, proof via physical contact is the simplest and most effective solution.”

Omega stared at his gloved hand. “I-I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because—because if I touch you, my hand will go through you. I-I can’t lose you again. I-I can’t!”

Not-Tech looked like she’d hit him. ‘Please, you have to trust me.”

For a moment, they just stood like that as the sounds of the Walkers and troopers got closer. She had no idea what to do. She wanted this to be real but . . .

Then, Not-Tech’s eyes lit up, like they used to when Tech had a brilliant idea. He closed his eyes and frowned, like he was concentrating hard on something. Omega opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, when she felt it. It was a strange feeling made of a mix of different sensations and impressions. It was different to the feeling before, though. This one was more . . . specific. It was the blue light of an active datapad; the comforting hum of the Havoc Marauder’s engines; a set of strong arms holding her head above icy waters; the whirr of tools as their owner made repairs. It was all of those things and many more—and all of them came together in a way that was undeniably Tech.

“It is me, Omega. I am here and I am so sorry that I caused you distress,” Not-Tech said without opening his eyes.

Truth.

Something inside her sang the word. She bit her lip and then moved away from the wall towards Not-Tech. As soon as she was close enough, she reached out with her shaking, uninjured arm. Her fingers touched his and she could feel the supple leather beneath her fingertips. She could feel his strong fingers through the gloves. They felt warm and solid and real.

He was real.

He was real!

“Tech!” She screamed and launched herself at him.

She nearly screamed again as her injured arm bumped against his armour, but she refused to let go because of a stupid injury. She tightened her grip on him. To her surprised pleasure, Tech wrapped his arms around her as well, though he was careful to avoid her injuries.

“I am so, so sorry that I caused you distress. I was trying to keep you all safe, not . . .”

“I know. H-hunter said you put the family before yourself, but . . . don’t do that again, all right? You’re my brother as well and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I-I cannot promise that, Omega,” he said after a long pause. “But, I will promise that I will do my best to stay safe as well as protect everyone. Is that an acceptable compromise?”

Omega opened her mouth to argue, but froze as she felt a prickling in the back of her head.

Danger.

“What is it?” Tech asked.

“I don’t know. It feels like  . . . danger is coming this way.”

Tech nodded decisively. “Then, we need to move.”

He reluctantly let her go and looked around. “Which way should we go?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes.”

The warm feeling nudged her back the way she had come.

“Erm, that way,” she said.

“Very well,” Tech said as they headed in that direction.

It was only much later that Omega realised something important.

Tech never told her how he’d survived the fall.  

Chapter Text

“Wrecker, Tech is alive.”

Wrecker stared at Kenobi in shock as his words echoed in his ears. He jerked angrily away from the Jedi and glared at him.

“Don’t! I know I’m not smart but I’m not that stupid! I saw him fall!”

“I—”

“Tech fell from the top of a mountain! He was dangling there from the rail-car and I couldn’t—I couldn’t . . . I tried to grab him, but—it’s my fault.”

The words tore open a hole in Wrecker’s chest and he felt tears sting his eyes. He shook his head and tried to push the feelings down. He was in the middle of a mission. He couldn’t break down and mourn right now, no matter how much everything inside him ached. No matter how much he wanted to curl into a ball and sob. Sadness passed over Kenobi’s face as he looked at Wrecker. Before he could say anything, something tapped his armour. Wrecker looked down and saw that Grogu’s ears had drooped. He scrambled up and threw his tiny arms around Wrecker’s neck.

Wrecker swallowed hard and awkwardly patted Grogu’s back.

“Sorry, little guy. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Grogu babbled and snuggled deeper into Wrecker’s neck. Wrecker brought up his hands to support him. He didn’t want Grogu falling and getting hurt. Kenobi took the opportunity to lay his hand on Wrecker’s arm once again.

“Dear one,” Kenobi said gently. “It wasn’t your fault. Tech said he made a choice and that there was no one to blame for that decision but him. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him yourself.”

“I can’t. Tech is dead!”

“He’s not dead,” Kenobi said firmly. “Our team rescued him as he fell. The, we all came here to help save you from this—”

“Shabuir demagolka,” Fett snarled as he went over and punched the side of Hemlock’s body.

Hemlock looked terrible. His clothes were coated with blood and his own filth. His skin was maggot-pale and blood dripped sluggishly from his wounds onto the bar’s floor. His eyes were unfocused and his breath wheezed in and out of his chest.

“Language, cyare. There is a child present,” Kenobi reminded him.

Fett grimaced. “Sorry, Gro’ika.”

Kenobi turned back to Wrecker and squeezed his arm. “Please . . . just trust me for a little longer and I will prove to you that your brother’s alive.”

Wrecker thought for a moment. He remembered that Cody had always spoken highly of Kenobi and Wrecker doubted that someone who Cody respected would turn out to be a liar. And, when they had worked together with Kenobi during the war, he’d treated all of them decently. Besides, Kenobi had said Tech was alive and he’d sounded like he’d meant it.

Eventually Wrecker nodded as Grogu released him from the hug and settled into Wrecker’s arms. “All right. You can show me that Tech’s alive a bit later. But, if you’re lying, I’ll smash your skull.”

Fett laughed and Kenobi smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of lying to you, my dear.”

“Now, what do we do with that?” Fett asked as he gestured at Hemlock.

“I don’t have a view either way,” Kenobi said. “Jedi are not meant to kill, save for self-defence. As this is a clone and Mandalorian matter, I will defer to your judgement on him.”

Fett looked at Hemlock and pulled out another vibroknife from one of his gauntlets. It was another beautiful one, with a carved handle and gleaming blade that looked like it might be made of pure beskar. Wrecker wondered if Fett would let him borrow some of his vibroknives as Fett twirled it in his hands and looked contemplatively at Hemlock.

“I know what I’d love to do with him. But, it’s not my call.” He looked at Wrecker.

It took a moment for Wrecker to realise what he meant. “Who? Me? You want me to choose what to do with him?”

“Yes. What do you want to do about Hemlock?”

Wrecker clenched his jaw. This man was the one who’d kidnapped Crosshair. Who’d probably hurt Crosshair. And, if he hadn’t kidnapped Crosshair, then Crosshair would be safe . . . maybe he’d be with the rest of them again. If he hadn’t kidnapped Crosshair, then they wouldn’t have gone on the mission to Eriadu and Tech wouldn’t have fallen. Wrecker wanted to grab Hemlock and crush his skull like a meiloorun. Hemlock was why Omega had screamed.

Wait . . .

Omega had screamed.

Wrecker whirled around and ran for the door. “Omega’s in trouble! I have to help her!”

“Then, I’ll take care of Hemlock,” Fett said darkly.

Wrecker laughed. “Thanks, Prime!”

Wrecker barrelled into the street with Grogu still cradled the crook of his arm. To his surprise, Kenobi was right beside him.

“You’re coming with me, General?”

“Yes. I may be able to help you find your sister.”

The two of them ran down the street, when Kenobi stuck out a hand. “There’s trouble this way. Follow me.”

Kenobi led them through an alley and down another street. Then, he darted through an abandoned building, into an alleyway and then turned into another street. Wrecker was about to ask where they were going when there was a loud shout. A TK trooper appeared at the end of the street and they were quickly joined by the rest of their squad. They had their blasters trained on Wrecker, Grogu and Kenobi. Wrecker curled protectively around Grogu as he whimpered. If it came down to it, he could take a few hits from a blaster, but Grogu definitely couldn’t. Then, he noticed Kenobi reaching for something in his belt.

“Stop moving or we’ll shoot,” one of the TK troopers ordered as she noticed Kenobi’s movements as well.

Kenobi smiled. “Then fire away.”

As the TK troopers fired, Kenobi leapt in front of Wrecker and sent the blasts flying harmlessly into the surrounding buildings. He then shoved the troopers back with the Force. The ones not caught by Kenobi’s push fired on them, but Kenobi remained firmly between Wrecker and the TK troopers and deflected blaster bolts back at the TK troopers. Wrecker remembered Echo telling him that General Kenobi had done this often in the war, putting himself as a living shield between the troopers and the droids. It was weird to see it really happen though. Wrecker scowled. He wasn’t going to sit there while Kenobi fought all the troopers.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he muttered.

“Patu?” Grogu babbled.

“I’m just trying to think of how I can help the General.”

He looked around and then spotted a state-of-the-art hovercar parked outside one of the buildings, right beside a number of worn-out speeders. The hovercar was completely spotless and its burgundy paintjob gleamed in the light from the streetlamps.

“I think I have an idea.”

He put Grogu carefully down behind some large crates. “Stay down, kid.”

After taking a moment to see that Grogu was safe, Wrecker grabbed the hovercar. He grunted as he hoisted it up over his head and took aim.

“Out of the way, General!” he yelled as he flung it.

Kenobi somersaulted aside. The TK troopers were not so lucky. The hovercar crashed into them. Shards of cheap armour went flying in all directions. Wrecker felt cold satisfaction at that. These beings had tried to hurt his family. They deserved to get hurt. The remaining TK troopers tried to fire at them, but Kenobi once again deflected the blasts at the TK Troopers. Wrecker grabbed one of the old speeders and flung it at the TK troopers, taking out another three of them. The TK troopers looked at each other and fled.  

“Oh no, you don’t!”

He charged forward. Within a few short moments, he’d caught up to the TK troopers. He grabbed the one by the back of the neck and tossed him easily into a wall. He didn’t get up. Then, he grabbed another and swung them like a bat, knocking over several of the other troopers. There were still three in front of him—and, stupidly, they hadn’t gotten out of his reach. He smashed their helmets together and they all collapsed. Then, he saw troopers at the end of the street. They took aim.

“Bah!”

Their weapons flew out of their hands and smashed against the wall. Then, they were yanked forward, screaming in fear. Wrecker glanced over his shoulder and saw that Grogu was peeking out from behind a crate and his face was scrunched in concentration.

“Thanks, Grogu!” Wrecker yelled as the TK troopers came within his reach.

He sank his fist into the one TK trooper’s stomach. The, he smacked him on the head and he went down. The second one he punched in the face, smashing his fragile helmet. The last two he grabbed around their throats and tossed them as far as he could. He didn’t hear where they landed.  He glanced around, but there didn’t seem to be any more TK troopers. He walked over to where Grogu was peeping out from his hiding place.

“You all right?”

“Bah.”

Then, Wrecker heard the tell-tale thump of a Walker heading towards them. Kenobi and him looked around and saw its shadow as it turned the corner.

“Get cover!” Kenobi said as he ducked into a doorway.

Wrecker grabbed Grogu and did the same. The Walker turned into the street, each step making the ground shake. Wrecker saw its head moving back and forth and waited for it to start firing.  Instead, the Walker stopped. Then, it hissed as its hatch was released and Wrecker found himself staring at a familiar face.

“You took your time!” Wrecker yelled.

Echo grinned and leapt out of the Walker. “Sorry. Got caught up chasing TK troopers. Where are the others?”

“Hunter ran off when he heard Omega scream. I haven’t seen them since. You?”

“I haven’t seen them. But, I did see Fennec Shand and a Mandalorian.”

“Shand? What is she doing here?” Wrecker growled as he remembered the woman who’d tried to kidnap his ori’vod’ika.

“She says she’s here to help. And, she did. She and the Mandalorian helped me take out a host of TK troopers,” Echo scowled. “It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well . . . things are a bit weird on my side as well.” Wrecker said as he glanced down.

Echo glanced down as well and his eyes widened as he spotted Grogu.

“He looks like General Yoda!”

“I don’t know him. But he saved me,” Wrecker said as he smiled down at him. “Do you think we can keep him?”

Grogu chittered angrily.

“I’m afraid Grogu is giving you a rather emphatic ‘no!’,” Kenobi said as he came closer.

To Wrecker’s surprise, Fett was right behind him. He must have arrived while Wrecker had been watching the Walker.

“General Kenobi,” Echo greeted and saluted him. 

Kenobi blinked in shock. “Oh, erm, you-you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s part of the manual, sir.”

“Well, since the war is over, perhaps we can do away with the manual?”

“If you say so.” Echo nodded at Fett and took in his grey and blue armour. “Who are you?”

“I’m . . . Jango Fett.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Kenobi said. “It’s a situation KFO.  One we will explain fully once we have a moment. But, for now we need to . . .”

He fell silent and his eyes glazed over. Grogu whimpered and curled tighter against Wrecker’s chest.

“Obi-Wan?” Fett asked as he looked at Kenobi with worry.

Kenobi didn’t respond. He just stared sightlessly at the ground.

“Osik,” Fett swore and pulled out a blaster.

“What’s happening?” Wrecker asked.

“He’s having a vision. It used to happen sometimes during the war,” Echo said as he drew his blasters and scanned the area. “He won’t be able to defend himself while it’s happening, so be on guard.”

Wrecker drew his own blaster, adjusted Grogu and then started looking around. Then, Wrecker spotted something shooting towards them. It took him a moment, but he recognized the familiar sight of Mandalorian armour.

“Ori’vod, is there’s a Mandalorian heading this way. Are they the Mandalorian you saw earlier?”

Echo glanced over and his face became grim. “No.”

They watched warily as the Mandalorian landed nearby. Now that he was closer, Wrecker could see his armor properly. It was made of gleaming beskar from the chest-plate to the helmet. The Mandalorian had a rust coloured, tattered cape, a belt with a blaster tucked into it and probably several hidden weapons. As soon as he landed, Grogu let out a shriek and leapt towards him. The Mandalorian caught Grogu with ease and snuggled him against his chest.

“Did you miss me, Gro’ika?” the Mandalorian asked in a warm, rich voice.

Grogu babbled happily and smacked the Mandalorian’s armour, making it ring.

“Do I look like a bell?” he asked and Grogu giggled.

The Mandalorian looked up and saw them all staring at him. His visor fixed on Kenobi, who was still staring blankly at nothing.

“What’s happening to him?”

“General Kenobi is having a vision,” Echo said.

 “General Kenobi is is done having a vision,” Kenobi said as he blinked twice and shook his head.

Then, he rubbed his temples with a grimace. Fett immediately went to his side, ready to catch him if he stumbled.  

“Cyare? What did you see?”

Kenobi’s face was grim. “The Empire is going to bomb Ord Mantell.”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?” Wrecker blurted out. “Why? It’s not like this place is a barracks or something.”

“They don’t care about that,” the Mandalorian said. “All they care about is wiping out people who challenged them.”

Echo squared his shoulders and saluted Kenobi. “General, I request permission to seek out a maintenance port.”

“Why?”

Echo held up his scomp and said, “I can hack into the public alarm system for the city and set out an alert for everyone to hide in the mines. At least then the civilians will have a chance of surviving the bombing.

“That’s a good plan.”

“We’ll split up. Echo and I will find a port, while—” Kenobi began.

“I’m going with Echo,” Wrecker said flatly.

He’d lost two brothers already. He didn’t know where Omega or Hunter were. He wasn’t going to let his last sibling out of his sight. If something happened to his ori’vod and Wrecker wasn’t there . . .

Kenobi looked at his face, then nodded. “Very well. Echo, Wrecker and I will find a port. Jango, Grogu and Mando will head back to the ship. We’ll be there in 45 minutes. If we’re not, leave without us.”

Jango stiffened, but after Kenobi glared at him, he nodded. Both he and the other Mandalorian activated their jetpacks and shot into the air.

“Now, where is that port?” Kenobi asked.

Echo pointed down the street. “Most districts in Ord Mantell have a port that maintenance workers use to check on the security footage or the district’s utilities. I saw one nearby.”

Kenobi nodded and the three of them raced down the street. Wrecker kept scanning for any TK troopers who might want to cause trouble, but no one bothered them, even though Kenobi murmured that there were people watching them.

“Here we are,” Echo said, suddenly.

He pointed to a square post in the ground that was covered with a metal grate and had a thick lock on it.

“Obviously, they don’t want people interfering with it,” Kenobi said drily. “Can you pick the lock?”

“I got a lock-pick right here,” Wrecker growled.

He grabbed the grate, feeling the metal give a little in his hands. He planted his feet and pulled. The metal shrieked and Wrecker grunted. He pulled harder and the grate tore free, leaving the port exposed for Echo. Echo crouched down and stuck his scomp into the port. Almost immediately, his face went blank and his eyes darted back and forth as he stared at things Wrecker couldn’t see. It was always weird when Echo linked up to systems, but it didn’t make Wrecker’s skin crawl like it had when he had first seen it. He and Kenobi stood there awkwardly for a while, when the alarms started blaring. A few moments later, people dressed in their sleep clothes flooded the streets. Some of them clutched pets or younglings. Some had hoisted their elderly relatives onto their backs. Others gathered all sorts of random things into their arms. They looked around in confusion, but Wrecker heard someone yelling about the mines and, as one, te crowd then raced away from them.

“Are the mines open?” Kenobi asked.

Echo nodded, his face still a bit blank. “Yes. And, I sealed in those damn insects, so they won’t bother any of the civilians.”

“Good. Then, let’s go.”

“Give me a moment, General. I just thought I saw—” Echo sucked in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Wrecker asked.

Echo swallowed hard and he trembled. His throat worked for a moment and Wrecker placed a hand on his shoulder. At the touch, he looked up at Wrecker and he saw that there were tears running down Echo’s cheeks.

“Wrecker. . . I can see Tech.”

Chapter Text

Hunter moved quickly through Ord Mantell, straining every sense to its limit to locate Omega. The streets were free of civilians as most people knew better than to interfere with the Empire and its business, especially when that business involved armed troopers. But, that didn’t mean the streets were empty. There were still the TK troopers wandering around and they were making so much noise that it was almost impossible for Hunter to pick out Omega in all the racket. He could hear blasters; armour shattering; troops marching; the thumping of the Walkers as they moved through the streets; and screams. The smells were similarly confusing: the usual stenches of Ord Mantell, like the smell of old oil and rotting garbage mixed with the reek of sweat beneath armour, machine oil and blaster ammunition. He shook his head back and forth and concentrated on his ability to sense electro-magnetic pulses. It wasn’t something he often tried, since focusing on those pulses gave him a headache, but he’d do anything to find Omega. He could feel the hum of the planet’s electrical field against his senses, but the current passing through the cables in the buildings prevented him from tracking the minute electrical pulses that beings generated naturally.

He gritted his teeth in frustration and slammed his hand against a nearby wall. How the kark was he supposed to find her? She needed him and he couldn’t even get to her. Kriff, he was a failure as a leader, as a brother . . . as a parent.

“There’s no time for this!” he snarled to himself.

He could wallow in self-pity later, when Omega was safe and sound. He picked a direction and crept through the streets, trying to avoid the TK troopers. He stopped near the entrance of an alleyway and listened again for Omega. All he could hear were the sounds of the TK troopers: marching feet, the thump of the Walkers, and the chatter of the TK troopers on their comms.

Wait . . .

He focused on the TK troopers talking and suddenly it was like they were speaking directly into his ear.

Sir, we’ve lost sight of the target.

What? How could you lose a little girl? I thought you had a full squad after her!

We did, sir, but they were taken out by someone else.

Hunter’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Someone else had saved Omega? Who . . . and more importantly, why? He forced himself to concentrate on the troopers’ conversation.

Which way did the girl go?

We think that the girl and her rescuer are heading back towards the clones’ ship.

Then, send a squad to intercept them!

All the squads are being taken out.

What? By who?

Some Mandalorians.

You’re going to let a bunch of armoured nunas take out the greatest army in the galaxy! You disgust me, you—

Hunter stopped listening. He didn’t know why Mandalorians would pick a fight with the Empire and, honestly, he didn’t care. But, if Mandalorians had Omega, she would be relatively safe. Tech—kriff, even thinking his name hurt—had once gone on a research binge for all the possible cultures they might encounter once they were deployed and had spent several rotations telling them all about what he’d read, until Crosshair had thrown pillows at him to get him to stop. Hunter didn’t remember much of what Tech had said, but he did recall that Mandalorians were very protective over all children. At least, he hoped that Omega was with Mandalorians.

Well, whoever has Omega, they’d better not have hurt her, Hunter thought, or I’ll tear them apart piece by piece.

With that thought, Hunter headed down another alley, towards where Echo had docked the Havoc Marauder.

***

Hunter paused and listened. There was far less noise now, though he wasn’t sure whether that was because the Mandalorians had taken out the TK troopers or because the Empire had decided to leave. Still, it meant that tracking Omega was easier. He strained his ears. There were still a few TK troopers marching; a Walker or two thumping through the streets; voices speaking over the TK troopers comms; blasters firing—and then a sound that made him catch his breath.

Omega’s heartbeat. It was the quickest out of all the members of their family, probably because of her youth, but it was a sound he would never mistake for anything else. For moment, he reveled in the sound. Her heartbeat meant that she was alive.

Then, he picked out another sound: her voice. She was talking to someone and she didn’t sound scared or frightened. He slumped in relief and turned his attention to the person she was addressing.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he heard the person’s heartbeat.

Over the years, he’d memorized the heartbeats of each of his batchmates. It helped him feel calmer to listen to them and know that each one was safe and sound. Wrecker’s pulse was as loud and boisterous as he was. Echo’s was faster than normal, with a metallic tone to it. Omega’s was light and fast, like her. Crosshair’s was calm and steady, perfect for a sniper. And, Tech’s . . . Tech’s had been almost in a permanent state of agitation, much like his thoughts.

It was Tech’s heartbeat he could hear now.

But, that wasn’t possible. Tech was dead. He was dead! Hemlock had shown him the Tech’s kriffing, broken goggles!

This couldn’t be happening this couldn’t—

Then, he heard them speaking.

“We should be approaching the Havoc Marauder soon.”

“Do you really think they’re there?” Omega asked.

“Hunter told you to go to the Havoc Marauder, so it is the first place he will check when he is searching for you. If they are not there, we have two options: wait for the rest of our family or leave them a comm for them to reach us. I propose—”

Hunter clamped his hands over his ears. That was Tech’s voice. It was Tech’s voice and it karking hurt to hear it because he was dead.

This has to be a trick. It has to be. Someone is impersonating Tech—an old memory surfaced of one of their first missions where the team had to point out a shapeshifter that had infiltrated the clone forces on Seelos— That has to be it. Some creature is impersonating Tech . . . and Omega has fallen for it.

Grimly, Hunter drew his blaster. He concentrated on the sounds of the two of them—ignoring how each word out of the Fake Tech’s mouth felt like a kick to his stomach—as he got closer and closer. Once was close enough, he looped around them so that they were heading in his direction. Then, he peered out from around the corner and scanned the street. He spotted the two figured immediately. The Fake Tech was wearing the same armour he’d worn to the mission on Eriadu, though it was more battered. Omega looked the same as she’d been earlier, except her arm was tucked close to her chest and covered in a bandage, the kind usually used to treat battlefield injuries. Then, Hunter caught the scent of blood on the air. Omega’s blood. Fury surged through him and he stepped out from his hiding place, his blaster pointed directly at the Fake Tech.

“Get away from her, now!”

“Hunter!” Omega’s eyes widened. “What are you doing? Why are you pointing a blaster at Tech?”

“That’s not Tech. Get away from them,” Hunter said, promising himself he’d shoot the impostor as soon as Omega was clear.

“Hunter—” Fake Tech began.

“Shut the kark up,” Hunter snapped.

The Fake Tech’s eyes widened and Omega went pale.

“Now, Omega, stand aside.”

“No!”

“That’s an order.”

Omega winced, but didn’t move. She set her jaw and glared at him.

“No. You’re going to shoot Tech.”

“That’s not Tech. Tech is—gone.”

Fake Tech cleared his throat. “I understand why you’d think that, since the odds of my survival were minuscule, but—”

“Hemlock showed me Tech’s goggles. They were smashed and . . .” Hunter trailed off as the lump in his throat made it too hard to talk.

A guilty look passed over Fake Tech’s face. “I-I smashed my spare goggles, Hunter, in an attempt to dissuade the Empire from looking for me. I did not anticipate that they would use my deception to cause you pain.”

Hunter gritted his teeth. It sounded like Tech. It sounded so much like Tech.

“Shut up,” Hunter snapped. “Now, move, Omega!”

“No!”

Suddenly, his blaster was yanked from from his grip and flung across the street. Hunter blinked at his empty hand for a moment, and then he heard Omega’s heartrate spike. She stared at the blaster in shock.

“Did-did I do that?”

She trembled and Hunter growled when Fake Tech put his hand on her shoulder. “Omega. Breathe. Everything will be all right. You just need to remain calm.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Fake Tech turned his attention to Hunter. “Hunter, I am aware that you are emotional at present, but I ask that you think for a moment. You think that I am some sort of shapeshifting species, and that I am impersonating Tech?”

“Yeah.”

“In our early mission with the shapeshifting species, how did we identify the imposter?”

Hunter wracked his brain, and then said slowly, “My senses . . . shapeshifters can’t fool my senses.”

“Precisely. So, ignore your sight and the sound of my voice. Shapeshifters can mimic my form and voice easily.  What do your other senses tell you?”

Hunter focused on the scents wafting through the air. The first things he noticed were the smells coming from Omega: the metallic smell of her blood; the trash she’d been near not too long ago; the scent of the soap she liked to use and the smell of bacta spray on her arm. He dragged his attention away from her and to the smells coming off of the being in front of him: machine oil, metals, leather, sweat and a scent that was as familiar to Hunter as his own name. He’d grown up with that scent. It was seeped into the fabric of the pilot’s seat of the Havoc Marauder and into the blankets on the bunk across from Wrecker.

It was undeniably Tech.

His eyes widened. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d nudged Omega aside, grabbed Tech’s shoulders and shook him hard enough to make his teeth rattle.  Then, he yanked Tech into a tight hug and nearly wept at the feeling of Tech—an alive Tech—in his arms.

“Don’t you ever execute Plan 99 again.”

“As I explained to Omega, that is not a promise I can make. I will always prioritise the safety of our family over my own life. However, I will promise not to seek out death actively. Is that an acceptable compromise?”

Hunter laughed wetly. “Of course, Tech.”  

Suddenly, he heard something. Two sets of footsteps charging towards them, as well as a jetpack. He pulled back and sniffed the air. Two new scents caught his attention. One was familiar, though Hunter was a bit shocked to smell it out here, since last he’d heard, the clone was on Coruscant helping other clones escape from the Empire. The other scent made his rage flare. The woman with that scent had almost kidnapped Omega.

“What is it?” Tech asked as he looked worriedly at Hunter.

“We got company. Shand, Rex and a Mandalorian headed this way.”

“Ah, then there is nothing to worry about.”

“Why?”

“Shand and the others are part of the group that rescued me.”

“What?”

Before Tech could reply, Shand and Rex appeared—or at least, that’s what Hunter’s nose told him. His eyes, however, told a different story. Shand was waring her usual orange helmet and black outfit, but the weapon on her back was far more advanced than anything Hunter had seen. The other person with Shand was old, much older than Rex, though the armor he wore was styled in the same manner that Rex’s was. Hunter trained his blasters on the two of them.

“What’s going on here?”

“Hunter, it’s me, Rex.”

“No, it isn’t. You’re older than Rex is.”

“Hunter,” Tech interrupted, “we are in a situation KFO.”

“What’s that?” Omega asked.

“KFO stands for Karking Force Osik and it encompasses a number of Force phenomena including, in this particular case, time travel.”

“Don’t swear in front of her,” Hunter scolded before he registered what Tech said, “Wait, time travel?”

“Yep,” Not Rex said as he pulled off his helmet to reveal a bushy white beard and bald head, “A whole lot of time travel.”

Then, a Mandalorian in green armour with red and gold accents landed next to them. He had a gaffi stick in his hand and Hunter noted that there was dried blood caking both ends.

The Mandalorian looked around and said, in a voice that was familiar to Hunter, “We don’t have time for long explanations. My buir has just sent a message and told me that the Empire is going to bomb the planet. We have to get out of here, now.”

“But . . .” Omega said hesitantly, “what about the people who live here?”

The Mandalorian’s visor fixed on her for a long moment, and Hunter instinctively pulled her closer to him. His senses were screaming at him that this Mandalorian was very, very dangerous.

“My buir said that Kenobi and your brothers plan to set off an alarm to get people to hide before they escape.”

"Kenobi?” Hunter asked, “As in 'General Kenobi'?”

“More or less,” Tech said as he checked something on his datapad. “You are right. The Imperial chatter indicated that a planetary wide bombing is imminent. I suggest that we escape on the Havoc Marauder as it is closer than the Firespray. Once we are in hyperspace, we can fully explain the situation.”

“What about Echo and Wrecker?” Omega asked.

“They’re with Kenobi and will be leaving on my buir’s ship. Now, let’s go. I didn’t survive a karking sarlacc to be blown up by second-rate Stormtroopers.”

Omega looked up at Hunter. He frowned. On the one hand, it was stupid to invite a number of unknown people onto the Havoc Marauder, especially someone like Shand. On the other hand, if the Empire was going to bomb the planet, did they have a choice?

“Fine,” Hunter said. “Let’s move out.”

Chapter Text

Hunter took point to lead them through the narrow streets to where they parked the Havoc Marauder. Tech followed close behind and Shand moved to stand beside him—Omega recognised her odd, orange helmet the moment she saw it. Behind them walked Omega and, directly behind her were the older Rex and . . . Alpha—no, his name was Boba now. She didn’t know how to feel about his presence, so she shoved the thought away and concentrated on following Hunter. Her arm throbbed, but it wasn’t too bad. She breathed deeply, as Tech had advised earlier and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Every now and again, she’d feel a nudge deep inside herself and she’d tap Tech to let him know they needed to change direction. She didn’t feel right giving Hunter orders, but Tech did so easily enough at her prompting.

It didn’t take very long for them to reach the ship. Omega’s eyes widened as it came into view. She hadn’t seen the damage from Eriadu, but now she could see scratches and scorch marks all along the sides of the ship. Still, she realized that none of the damage would stop the ship flying.  As they reached the ship, alarms started blaring from the street behind them.

“Those are the emergency alarms. They will alert the civilians that they need to take cover,” Tech noted.

“And they’re our cue to leave,” Rex added.

They raced up the ramp with Hunter pausing long enough to grab Omega’s uninjured arm and guide her to a seat. As soon as she entered the ship, the familiar smells of machine oil, explosives and dirt washed over her. She relaxed. The Havoc Marauder smelt like home. Before she could say anything, AZI flew forward, his huge, lamp-like eyes flickering in concern.

“Omega, you’re—oh my, you’re hurt!” AZI exclaimed.

“I’m fine, AZI,” she said, but the droid didn’t seem to hear her.

He whirred anxiously and continued, “I can’t believe Cid would betray you like that! I thought she would never hurt you!”

“Believe it, AZI,” Hunter said as fastened Omega’s harness.

He then dropped into the seat next to her as Boba and Shand took the seats opposite. Tech and Rex headed to the cockpit.

Tech nodded at AZI as he moved past the droid. “It was likely that Cid would betray us, given her threats the last time we spoke. However, we did not anticipate that she would agree to Omega’s capture, given that she had a soft spot for Omega.”

AZI beeped in shock. “Tech, you are alive. This is wonderful! I am so glad to see you unharmed! Now I can tend to Omega injury and—”

“Unfortunately, we cannot delay our departure,” Tech interrupted. “They are going to bomb the planet.”

“Can you hang in there for a little while?” Hunter asked her.

Omega nodded. Her arm was sore, true, but Tech had put bacta spray on it and she knew the pain would ease up soon.

“We shall leave momentarily,” Tech said as he ran through the pre-flight procedures.

“I’ll co-pilot,” the older Rex said as he dropped into the seat next to Tech.

“Are you still capable of flying at your advanced age?” Tech asked without glancing away from the instruments.

Omega giggled behind her hand as the others openly guffawed at Rex’s outraged cry.

“The day I’m too old to fly is the day you can call me a Stormtrooper,” Rex growled.

The engines whirred to life and Omega’s eyes moved around the cabin. She observed Shand for a moment. She looked so similar to the last time Omega had seen her, except her weapons were a lot newer. Still, Omega’s attention slid from her to Boba beside her. She knew Boba had been the clone gifted to Jango to raise as his son. Sometimes, she thought that, since they were both unaltered that it made them twins, but she’d never paid too much attention to those thoughts, until she was staring at the man himself. He was wearing Mandalorian armour that had been painted green with red and gold accents. He’d removed his helmet and Omega could see his face. He had wrinkles and scars and something that looked like chemical burns. She peered, trying to see the similarities between him and the Regs, her brothers or herself, when his gaze snapped to her. Gold eyes met gold, before Omega looked away, her cheeks burning.

She didn’t look back at him until she spotted the tell-tale blue streaks of hyperspace outside the ship’s window.

Before she could say anything, Tech spoke as he swivelled around to face the interior. “Omega? Are you all right? Does your arm still hurt?”

He looked so right, sitting in that chair. Not injured. Not dead. Just there, as he was always supposed to be. It nearly made Omega cry and run over to him for a hug all over again. She pushed down the feeling and instead smiled at him. He smiled back.

“It doesn’t hurt as badly anymore.”

AZI flew towards her. His eyes flashed and a cyan beam swept over her. She fought to quell her instinctive panic and held still as he scanned her. Something squeezed her hand and she glanced down to see that Hunter was holding her. Her breathing eased and she tried to relax. AZI turned off the beam.

“Your injury has been sufficiently tended to, although I would like to apply more bacta in a few hours, just to ensure that it heals properly,” AZI said.

“Sure thing, AZI.”

“Now, I can address the more pressing issue of the inhibitor chips,” Tech said.

“What about the chips?” Hunter demanded.

“There has been a severe oversight regarding the chips. Omega, I owe you an apology.”

“Why? What has this got to do with the chips?” Omega asked.

She didn’t like the worry in Tech’s eyes. Her heart pounded as Tech pressed his lips together and bounced his leg. Rex glanced worriedly at him, before laying a hand on his shoulder. Tech’s leg didn’t stop bouncing and each bounce made Omega’s heart pound worse.

Eventually, he said, “It has come to my attention that, despite the fact that both you and Boba were meant to be unaltered, the Kaminoans may have implanted you both with an inhibitor chip.”

“What?” Hunter snarled.

Omega felt cold dread squeeze her chest. She had an inhibitor chip?

“No,” she breathed.

She remembered what happened when Wrecker’s and Crosshair’s chips had activated. Wrecker had tried to snap Tech’s neck. Crosshair had tried to burn them to death on Bracca. They hadn’t been able to stop themselves. Would it be the same for her? Could-could someone make her hurt her brothers? Kill them? Her stomach roiled and she fought not to throw up.

“Kid?”

It’s too dangerous for her to be near them.

Omega leapt to her feet. “I have to go!”

She unclipped her harness, shoved past Hunter, ignoring the surprised shouts of the others and raced for her room at the back of the Havoc Marauder. She didn’t think about how she’d climb the ladder. She just jumped and felt something shove her upwards towards the room. She landed hard, but her good hand grabbed onto a groove in the floor and she hauled herself upwards. She yanked the curtain shut behind her and curled into a small ball at the foot of her chair. She squeezed her eyes shut. Usually, being up here, surrounded by the tiny lights Wrecker had carefully put up for her, made her feel calmer. But now they did nothing to calm the terror inside her.

 Then, she heard heavy footsteps on the ladder outside her room. She scrambled backwards, away from the noise. She couldn’t let anyone get close. She was too dangerous.

“Go away, Hunter!”

The curtain was yanked back and Omega found herself staring at the scarred face of Boba Fett.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were—”

“I know. May I come up?”

“I-I-”

“Or you could tell me to kriff off?”

Omega chuckled. “Hunter would kill me if he knew I used language like that.”

“Hunter isn’t here.”

“Hunter would hear, though. He hears everything.”

“You can blame me then.” He shrugged. “So, what’s it going to be? Can I come up or kriff off?”

“Come up,” Omega said after a moment’s hesitation.

Boba smiled and hauled himself up into the room. He wriggled and shifted until he was on the opposite side of Omega and then tugged his legs into the space with a hiss. Omega’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then, why didn’t you get treatment? AZI would—”

“It’s chronic pain. Not much anyone can do about it.”

“Oh.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Omega tried not to stare at Boba. He didn’t seem in any rush to talk. He just kept staring at the helmet in his lap.

Then, he suddenly looked up at her and said, “You can ask, you know? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Omega flinched, but then steeled herself. “Is-is it true that you had an inhibitor chip?”

Pain flared in his eyes. “It’s true.”

“How did you find out?”

“A Mandalorian princess decided to visit me on Tatooine. She didn’t like me refusing to do what she said, so she activated my chip and forced me to attack my vod’ika, vod’ad and buir before they managed to subdue me and remove the chip.”

“I thought the inhibitor chips were voice coded for the Emperor. How could she control you?” Omega asked.

“She had over-ride codes.”

Omega stopped breathing as fear swelled up. Over-rides codes could take control of her. Make her hurt her brothers. Make her—and then she yelped as something poked her, hard. She rubbed her arm and glared at Boba.

“What was that for?”

“I’m not going to sit here while you panic yourself into passing out. The only people who know the over-ride codes are myself and Fennec and neither of us are going to try to use them on you, so you’re safe even if you have a chip.  Then, when we land, I’m pretty sure that your brothers will drag you to a medbay and check if you have one. Then, if it’s there, they’ll remove it. Simple as that.”

Truth.

Something in her eased a little more at that. Boba was right. Tech had removed the inhibitor chips from all the others. He would do the same for her. None of her brothers would let her be controlled like that.

“You’re right.”

“I know,” he said smugly.

They lapsed into silence once again. But, this time a different question rose up inside Omega.

She swallowed hard, then asked, “How can you be ‘Boba’?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re too old. I thought you were supposed to be unaltered, like me. Why aren’t you my age?”

Boba chuckled. “Karking Force Osik.”

Omega giggled and Boba grinned, before continuing, “I am Boba Fett, but I’m not from your time. I’m from about  . . . 25 years in the future.”

“What?” she asked in shock.

“I’m from the future. Which means that there is another teenage Boba Fett running around the galaxy, being a hot-headed di’kut.”

“Are you saying you time travelled?”

“Yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow. Boba snorted.

“Don’t look at me like that. You see a lot of weird osik when the Force is involved.”

Well, that  sounded like it was true. Echo sometimes talked about the weird Force stuff he saw while he worked with the Jedi. Rex mentioned it once or twice as well, when she’d seen him last.

Still, it was hard for her to shake her skepticism. “The Force did this?”

“Yes. You see, my vod’ad, Grogu, is a powerful Force-user. He saw me mourning my buir and yanked my buir and Obi-Wan Kenobi, a jedi, into my time. When we tried to send them back, Grogu felt someone screaming in the Force—you.”

“Me?” she repeated blankly.

“Yes. Apparently you’re Force-sensitive, so when you screamed out in pain, Grogu decided that we all needed to go and help you, instead of returning my buir and Obi-Wan to their time.”

“I’m not Force-sensitive.”

“Yes, you are.”

“But—”

“Have you ever picked up a blaster and known, instinctively, how it’s supposed to work? Do you get on really well with animals you’ve never met before? Do you have a small voice nagging in your head about where you need to go or what you need to do? Did you ever make something move without touching it?”

The memory of Hunter’s blaster flying out of his hand flared in her mind. She’d done that, somehow. Just like she’d been able to tell which path led away from the TK troopers on Ord Mantell. And, she could tell that Boba was telling the truth.

Then, she remembered how the Empire hunted Force-sensitives. She groaned and pressed her face into her hands.

“I never asked for this,” she mumbled through her fingers.

“I know.”

“This is just—argh! I was just getting a chance to be part of the squad! Now, Hunter is never going to let me go anywhere.”

“He’s trying to protect you.”

“I know. But, I’m also his ori’vod’ika. We’re supposed to protect each other and now I have to become a Jedi and—”

“You don’t have to.”

“What?”

Boba shrugged. “You choose what to do with your Force-sensitivity. You could learn a few techniques to get control and then happily ignore it for the rest of your life. Or you could practice and get better at it until you can use the Force to shove Hunter if he’s being overprotective. Or to yank your brothers to safety if they need it.”  

Omega stared as his words sank into her. “I don’t have to do anything?”

“No. You need to get control, but after that, you choose what you do. My vod’ad is powerful, but he chose to be a Mandalorian, rather than a Jedi. It’s all up to you . . . and it’s not something you need to decide now.”

Something eased in her chest, until she blurted out, “Why are you being nice? I thought you hated other clones.”

Boba tapped his fingers on his helmet as he thought. “I did, once. When I was younger, looking at them reminded me of the buir I had lost. Then, after Order 66, I stopped thinking about them too much. Later, much later, when I realized how we were all victims of the Empire, I felt sorry for them. But, by then there weren’t many clones left.” He sighed. “I want to do better while I have another chance.”

“Good.”

Boba raised an eyebrow and Omega continued, “I can’t be the only ori’vod’ika around here.”

Boba laughed and Omega joined in. The silence fell again, but it was a much more comforting one. Then, she heard heavy footsteps and the curtain drew back again to reveal Hunter’s worried face.  

“You all right, kid?” he asked, his eyes moving warily between Boba and Omega.

“I’m fine, Hunter. Talking to Boba helped.”

Hunter pressed his lips together and nodded at Boba. Boba nodded back.

“I’ve been talking to Tech and he say you don’t have to worry. We’ll just avoid any mention of orders and any incoming transmissions. Then, as soon as we land, we’ll head for the medbay and get it sorted.”

“Told you,” Boba said.

Hunter ignored him. “How’s that sound?”

“Good.”

“Where are we heading, anyway?” Boba asked.  

“Pabu.”

Chapter Text

Echo adjusted the trajectory of the Firespray and kept checking and double-checking the co-ordinates for Pabu. There wasn’t really much of a need to do so, but it stopped his thoughts from looping endlessly over what Ge—what Kenobi had told him.

A situation KFO. Time travel.

It sounded like the plot of one of the bad holovids that some of the Vod’e used to watch in secret in their bunks before the war started. And, yet, there was the Prime sitting in the hold of the ship, looking exactly like his image in Echo’s files, right down to his scars. He had no reference for the Mando or Baby Yoda—Grogu, apparently—but Kenobi’s appearance only added more weight to his claim of time travel. The General Kenobi Echo had known had walked around in white armour, with hair neatly trimmed and constantly projecting an air of calm authority. This Kenobi looked different, with a strange mullet and the traditional Jedi robes. He was also missing some of the scars Echo had seen him get during the war.

So, the situation KFO had to be true and, well, Echo wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

On the one hand, time travel meant that the group had appeared in time to save Tech—and Echo could never hate something that saved his brother. But, on the other hand, there were many, many brothers that had died during the war and who hadn’t had the chance to be saved. If this was a situation KFO, why hadn’t they just gone all the way back to before the war started and saving all the clones, instead of the one they deemed worthy?

They were going to help, Echo reminded himself firmly, as he focused on crushing his bitter thoughts.

Prime and Kenobi were adamant that they had been on their way back to their fight on Kamino before the war started in order to try and save as many of the Vod’e as they could. The temporal detour, apparently, had been the result of a scream in the Force that had caused Grogu to yank them all to this time—a scream that was apparently Omega.

The thought of Omega being Force-sensitive made a twisted amount of sense. All of Clone Force 99 had been enhanced—even Ninety Nine, though his accelerated aging was more of a curse than a benefit—so, why not Omega herself?

“You may want to ease up on the controls,” a gentle voice suggested from behind him.

Echo started and glanced around. Kenobi stood there with a kind look in his blue eyes and a different cloak thrown over his cream tunic.

“Sorry, Gen—I mean, Kenobi.”

 “It’s all right. It’s a lot to take in.”

“It will be easier to believe once I see that Tech is alive with my own eyes,” Echo said firmly.

A sighting through a camera did not reassure him much. While he’d been in the clutches of the Separatists, he’s seen all sorts of things because that’s what they wanted him to see. He’d seen his own brothers as droids and had plotted ways to murder them; he’d seen key bases as enemy strongholds and had told the Separatists how to get in; he’d—

“Breathe, Echo,” Kenobi’s voice admonished gently.

Echo sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and then repeated. His heart was hammering in his ears and a cold sweat had broken out on his skin, running unpleasantly down his back to pool at the points of contact between his cybernetics and his flesh. He forced the memories back and eased his death grip on the controls.

Movement in the corner of his eye gave him a small warning before Wrecker laid his hand on Echo’s shoulder.

“You all right?” he asked, before straightening to his full height and glaring down at Kenobi.

Echo felt his chest warm. Wrecker knew he wouldn’t last two minutes in a fight with a Jedi, yet was willing to threaten one for him. 

Echo had been damn lucky to find a family like Clone Force 99. Although they would never replace the Domino Squad, they were still a part of his heart. And, they had shown that he was unequivocally a part of theirs.

Kenobi opened his mouth, when suddenly the controls beeped. A planet covered in blue oceans and decorated in swirling clouds appeared outside the windshield.  He heard Wrecker whoop and Echo threw a grin back at him.  

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching and he glanced back to see the Mandalorian with silver armour approaching with Grogu carefully cradled in his arms. His helmet angled towards the approaching planet and he spoke.

“Is this the planet we’re heading for?”

“Yep. It’s Pabu, the first place that’s felt like a home to us.”

“Pabu!” Grogu said and giggled.

“You’re going to love it there, kid. There’s plenty of places to play and loads of good things to eat. Like fruit!”

Grogu made a face and Wrecker laughed. “Kid, the fruit is delicious. Better than any sweets I’ve had, ever!”

He gagged and the Mando wagged his finger at him.

“Grogu, be respectful and mind your manners.”

He stuck out his tongue, which earned him further scolding from the Mando.

Echo tuned out the rest of the conversation as he concentrated on adjusting their flight path for their approach. It was a little tricky, given that Echo wasn’t very familiar with this type of ship, but the Prime knew it well. He’d already dropped into the co-pilot’s seat beside Echo and, between them, the guided the ship through the swirling clouds to the conical island where Clone Force 99 had made their home. The Archium towered proudly over the clusters of domed homes inside the terraces. If he squinted, Echo could spot the tiny fishing boats bobbing on the ocean as they searched for their daily catch, as well as the colourful tarps beneath which the vendors set out their daily wares in the market square.

“There aren’t any defences,” Prime said in surprise. “No anti-aircraft canons, no planetary shields . . . nothing.”

“Of course not,” Echo said. “They’re a village of fishermen, not soldiers.

“Then I hope our presence here doesn’t bring trouble,” Mando said.

The comms flared before Echo could answer and he hit the answer button.

“Excuse me, unidentified craft, please state why you are approaching our island,” Shep’s cool voice came through the comm.

“Shep, it’s Echo, codeword: Sabacc. We’re coming in from Ord Mantel. The Marauder is following closely behind us. May we land?”

“Echo?” Shep sounded relieved. “I’m glad it’s you. Things have gone a bit mad here.”

“How so?” Echo asked, his chest tightening with dread. “Is everyone all right?”

If the Empire had come to Pabu . . .

“Everyone is fine. It’s just a bit of a strange situation, but we can talk properly once you land. There’s space by the Archium for both the ships.”

“All right. See you soon.”

Shep ended the call and a heavy silence lingered in the cockpit for a few moments, broken only by Grogu’s babbling.

“That was weird, right?” Wrecker asked eventually.

“Yep. Definitely weird.”

Echo looked out of the window skeptically. The island looked peaceful, but looks were so often deceiving. The war had taught them all that.

 “I say we go,” Echo said. “At least then, if there’s any trouble, we can help protect the civilians.”

“The Force isn’t giving me any warnings,” Kenobi said. “I think it’s safe to land.”

“If we get shot at, cyare, I’m holding you responsible,” the Prime said as he started the landing procedures.

“As if you don’t enjoy a good firefight,” Kenobi scoffed.

The Prime laughed, and Echo firmly turned his attention away from their simmering intimacy and to the controls.  Together, he and the Prime brought their ship down to the open space near the Archium, just to the right of the massive tree that took up half the courtyard. Out of his window, he saw the Marauder landing beside them, though the tinted windows meant that he couldn’t see who was piloting it. He knew who he hoped it was, but if it wasn’t . . . he didn’t think he could handle it, nevermind Hunter and Wrecker.  

He forced his mind away from the identity of the pilot and finished his post-flight procedures. Then, he lowered the ramp. He paused for a moment and looked out the window to where the Marauder was lowering its ramp. He sucked in a heavy breath.

Please, please let Tech be on that damn ship.

He wasn’t even sure who he was addressing. The Force? The Universe? The little gods some of the Vod’e spoke about? But, he hoped that, if anyone was listening, they would have a bit of mercy for the clones. They’d all been through enough  . . .

“Echo?” Wrecker asked.

Echo shook himself. “Sorry, vod’ika. I got caught in my own thoughts.”

He quickly made his way to the back of the ship and scrambled down the ladder that led to the ramp. Wrecker was right behind him, his heavy footsteps clanging on the rungs. As soon as they reached the bottom, a scream caught their attention.

“Echo! Wrecker!”

They looked up and saw Omega hurtling towards them from the Marauder. Echo’s chest tightened as he noted that she had her arm in a sling and that there were several new scrapes and scratches on her face.

Wrecker whooped. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes!”

He ran towards her and swept her up. Echo almost yelled that he needed to watch her injuries, but stopped himself as he realized that Wrecker was avoiding jostling her injured arm.  Echo smiled and strode up to her so that he could hug her, even though she was still cradled in Wrecker’s arms.

“It’s good to see you alive and well, ori’vod’ika,” he said as he touched her forehead with his own.

“Her wellness is up for debate at the moment,” a blunt voice cut in. “Her physical injuries have been tended to as much as possible with the medical supplies available. However, she has suffered two severe psychological shocks in short succession, so her mental health maybe shaky at present.”

Echo froze. He knew that voice.

He knew that voice!  

He raised his head and stared at Tech. His eyes darted all over the other clone, taking in everything from the new scruff marks on his armour, to the blaster holstered on his belt, to the worried look in his eyes.

“Tech!” Wrecker yelled.

He lunged forward and pulled Tech into the embrace without releasing Omega. Tech squirmed and yelped. He tried to get free, but Wrecker had a firm hold on him. Then, Wrecker started to shake. Tech sent Echo a shocked look, but, before Echo could convince Wrecker to let go, Omega interrupted, “Wrecker, are you crying?”

Wrecker sniffed and nodded. Omega wrapped her good arm around his neck and squeezed.

“Yep.”

“That is . . . unusual,” Tech said carefully.

“I’m allowed to cry when I’m sad.”

“You’re sad?”

Echo stared incredulously at Tech as Wrecker growled.

“I thought you died, Tech! Of course I was sad! And, it’s my fault. I dropped you. I dropped you.”

Tech looked confused. “Wrecker, that is incorrect. I am the one responsible for my fall, as I made the decision to shoot out the connection between the two rail-cars. I do not regret that decision. If the rail-cars had remained connected, the likelihood of all of you dying was extremely high. That was not acceptable.”

Fury flared in Echo’s chest. “And, you dying was?”

Tech looked straight at him. “It is simple mathematics. Four lives is a greater loss than one. Besides we are clones and—”

Echo grabbed the edge of his chestplate and yanked him close, almost dislodging him from Wrecker’s tight grip.

 “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it. You’re not replaceable, damnit, Tech! None of us are! You think it hurts us less than a nat-born when one of our brothers dies? There will never be another Tech, so get the idea of being stupidly self-sacrificial out of your karking stupid mind!”

Tech blinked and then blinked again. “I believe that was the first time anyone has implied that my brilliant mind is less than exceptional.”

Wrecker chuckled and released Tech as Echo prodded his chestplate with his scomp.

“I mean it. We will miss you if anything happened to you. You’d better drill that into your brilliant brain.”

“He’s right, Tech,” Omega said. “You said you we’re a family. Family care about each other.”

Tech nodded solemnly.  “You are both  . . . correct . . . I apologise again for any distress my actions have caused.”

“Good.”

Then, Echo noticed Tech’s gaze snap to someone behind him. He turned and his eyes widened. It was Ahsoka, his former Commander, but she was different. She’d grown into her full height and her montrals and lekku had darkened in colour. She was wearing grey armour, except for a single vambrace that seemed to be old clone trooper armour. She grinned at him, flashing sharp teeth.

“Commander?”

Her grinned widened. “Good to see you, Echo.”

Before he could salute, she pulled him into a tight hug. He blinked in shock, and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder with his flesh hand. She released him after a moment.

“Guys, this is my former Commander Ashoka Tano. Ahsoka, these are—”

“Let me guess . . . Wrecker, Omega and Tech.

Wrecker’s eyes widened. “Did the Force tell you that?”

“No. Rex did,” she said as she gestured over her shoulder at the clone that was approaching.

Rex looked like he had done the last time Echo had seen him. Blonde hair shaved so short he almost seemed bald; battered, 501^st armour on his body; worn poncho pulled over his armour.

“What are you doing here?” Echo asked Rex.

“Ahsoka arrived at our other base and told me we had to meet here.” A feral smile pulled at his lips. “Apparently, we’ve got an Imperial facility to bring down.”

Echo clasped Rex’s forearm and returned the smile. “Count me in.”

“Us too!” Omega said as Wrecker whooped.

“You got to get your wounds seen to before you’re bringing anything down, kid,” Hunter said as he came up beside them.

“Aww.”

Echo noted Fett and Shand walking away from Marauder to greet the Prime and Kenobi, but his attention was pulled to an older man walking towards them. He had a white beard and wore scuffed 501st armour, with a helmet tucked under his arm. Then, Echo noted the familiar golden-brown eyes, and realized he was a clone.

“Who’s that?” Echo asked.

Omega giggled.  “You’ll see in a moment.”

The clone reached them and saluted lazily. Then, his eyes landed on Ahsoka and his whole face softened.

“Riduur,” he breathed.

Ahsoka smiled. “Hey there, Rexter,” she said to the older clone.

WHAT THE KARK!

Echo didn’t have a moment to process as she moved over to the older clone. They wrapped their arms around each other with a sigh of relief. Then, she dipped the older man for an elegant kiss. It would have probably lasted much longer, if it hadn’t been interrupted by the younger Rex making an awful, strangled sound.

“Y-you’re . . .” Rex stammered as he pointed a shaking finger at the couple.

The old clone smirked. “Yep. I’m you.”

Rex looked at Ahsoka in shock. “You—we’re married?”

“In the future, Rex,” she said gently. “Don’t worry about it too much now.”

“How you just expect me to—”

“It took us a long time to work out how we felt about each other and rushing into thing won’t do any good. Give it time and be patient with yourself and your own Ahsoka. All right?” she said.

Rex blinked, then blinked again, before finally nodding.

Then, Echo’s gaze drifted past younger Rex to the next person approaching: Phee. Echo’s stomach lurched as he saw her. She looked like she hadn’t rested in several rotations and her dreadlocks hung limply over her face. Her eyes looked suspiciously moist as she looked at Tech.

“Here comes Tech’s girlfriend,” Wrecker teased, which made Omega giggle.

Echo saw Tech frown in confusion as Phee approached.

“Are you—” she began.

“I am alive, if that is what you are asking.”

“Good. That’s good.”

An awkward silence fell. Echo pressed his lips together and elbowed Tech. Tech looked a bit annoyed, but turned back to Phee.

“I-I am sorry if my apparent demise caused any distress. That was never my intention.”

“I know, Brown Eyes.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Nothing a hug won’t cure.”

Tech blinked rapidly and Echo could almost see his mind processing. Then, he moved quickly and pulled Phee into a hug. She clung to him and Echo pretended not to notice the tears on their faces. They obviously needed a moment to sort things out, but Omega needed help as well. Maybe he could—

Omega suddenly said, “Why don’t we go to the medbay and get my arm properly sorted? Then, Tech can come and scan me for the chip?”

“That’s a good—wait, what chip?” Echo asked, feeling his stomach sink.

“We’ll tell you on the way to the medbay,” Hunter said grimly as he led them off in that direction.

Chapter Text

Phee saw the worry in Tech’s face as he watched his siblings head towards the medbay, with AZI floating close behind. A moment later, several other beings in armour followed them, including one that seemed to be carrying a green baby and Ahsoka, who had was holding hands with one of the older clones—her spouse, Phee assumed.

“We can put a pin in this conversation, Brown Eyes, if you want to go after your siblings. I can wait,” Phee said gently as she glanced between him and the group.

As if she had heard Phee, Omega looked back and make a shooing motion at them. Phee snorted and glanced over at Tech.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I doubt Omega would stop hounding me unless I have this conversation with you.” Despite the words, Phee could see a hint of a smile on his face.

She laughed. “She has little sibling privileges, then?”

“Technically, Omega is our older sibling. It is our accelerated aging that makes us appear older than she is.”

Phee pressed her lips together. “Another thing that the Kaminoans did to you?”

She fought to keep her voice calm and level, because if she started thinking about the horrors that the Batch and the other clones endured on Kamino . . . well, it might be a good thing for the Kaminoans that the Empire had got to them before Phee did.

“Yes. It was a practical choice. After all, in ten years, an ordinary human would not have aged past adolescence and could not be a soldier. It made sense for the Kaminoans to accelerate our aging so that we could fulfill our function.”

“And, Omega?”

“Originally, I theorized that Omega was left unaltered in order to be another source of Jango Fett’s DNA for the Kaminoans to continue producing clones. This seemed to be a reasonable assumption, given that Jango Fett had died and Boba Fett had gone into hiding. Now, I suspect that the Kaminoans were reluctant to alter her genetics any further once they managed to make her Force-sensitive.”

Phee stared at him. “What do you mean that Omega is Force-sensitive?”

“Exactly that. She is Force-sensitive. Her abilities, however, were dormant until my apparent demise.” He looked away. “Evidently, the emotional trauma of losing me was enough to unlock her gifts—and for her to connect with other Force-sensitives to bring people from the past here.”

“Yeah,” Phee said, “Ahsoka told us about that, though she didn’t tell us how it happened. All she said was that Grogu bought his parent, her spouse, Boba Fett as an adult, Fennec Shand, Jango Fett and General Obi-Wan Kenobi to the present. Oh, and Obi-Wan and Jango are in a relationship.”

She didn’t know why she bothered to add that. After all, the time traveling should be the shocking part of this scenario, but knowing that one of the most prominent Mandalorians who hated the Jedi and the Jedi General had fallen foreach other . . . well, that was just more interesting.

“Yes. Now that they are here, the intention seems to be to assist in bringing down the Empire—but first, they have agreed to assist us in retrieving Crosshair.” Tech’s fingers twitched towards the pouch where he kept his datapad, but he seemed determined not to grab it during their conversation.

“Good. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as we—wait.” He frowned. “We?”

“Yes, I’m coming with you.”

“You are not a soldier.”

“So?”

“I do not think you should come with.”

“What?! Why not?”

“It will be dangerous.”

She folded her arms. “We’ve been on plenty of dangerous missions. Why the kriff can’t I come on this one?”

Tech looked at her for a moment, then looked away. His drummed his fingers against his thigh and bounced in place. Phee took a deep breath as she tried to remain patient. Eventually, though, the silence became strained.

 Before she could say anything, Tech spoke., “I think that . . . Now that I have acknowledged that I have romantic feelings for you, I find the thought of you being in danger . . . distressing. Despite the fact that I know how capable you are—capabilities that you have proved on numerous occasions—I just want you to remain safe. It makes no logical sense to me.”

Phee stared as she worked through his confession in her head. She felt her heart lift as something in her stomach tightened pleasantly. She felt a smile tugging at her lips.

 “Romantic feelings?”

“Yes. I understand if this unexpected, but—”

“Brown Eyes, I feel the same way.”

Tech’s eyes snapped to hers and she could read the relief in them. “You do?”

“Yes. That’s why I’ve been flirting with you.”

Then, Tech reached for the datatpad in his pouch. He pulled it out and started typing.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to document the day to commemorate it later: It is the first occasion of Wrecker being right,” he said in response to her confused look.

“Your brothers knew how you felt about me?”

“They knew before I did. I only I realized how I felt during my plummet,” Phee flinched, though she tried to hide it. Still, Tech noticed it. “Apologies for my phrasing.” 

She shrugged and motioned for him to continue. “As I was saying, while I fell, my mind kept going back to the people I cared about. The people I loved. My brothers, Omega . . . and you. However, my feelings for you were very different to what I feel for my siblings and I realized that they were romantic in nature. And . . . I’m hoping that my feelings are reciprocated but . . . ”

“But what?”

“If you reciprocate, I must ask you to wait a bit longer.”

Phee tilted her head. “Why?”

“Crosshair is still in the hands of the Empire. Now that we know where he is, I cannot, in good conscience, start a relationship with you until we have made an attempt to rescue him.”

“I’ve been hoping for this for a long while, Brown Eyes. So, waiting a little longer isn’t going to hurt anyone,” she said with a shrug.

It was true. If that’s how Tech wanted to proceed, she was willing to wait. After all, he was worth waiting for.

“You don’t mind?” he asked hesitantly.

“Not at all, Brown Eyes. Did you think I’d get angry that we couldn’t get straight to the romance?”

He frowned. “I did not know how you would react. I have never been in this situation before.”

“Fair enough.”

Then, Tech tucked his datapad under his arm and hesitated. “Is it a contradiction to my earlier statement if I were to ask to hold your hand?”

“Nope. There’s no rules for this, Brown Eyes. We do what we are both comfortable with, all right?”

“Then, may I hold your hand?”

“Of course.”

Slowly, Tech reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it, enjoying the feeling of the cracked leather against her skin. He smiled at her, a small, hesitant thing, as his eyes shone behind his goggles.

“Shall we go to the medbay? I have confidence in how Echo will treat Omega’s arm, but I am reluctant to allow AZI to remove Omega’s chip without supervision.”

“Are you sure she has a chip?”

“I’m ninety four percent certain,” he said with a worried frown.

“Then, let’s go.”

They walked away from the landing pad and down the winding pathways that led through Upper Pabu. A few of the villagers peeked their heads out from their doorways and windows and sent them warm smiles. The people of Pabu had become very fond of the Batch since they had helped save them recover from the devasting tsunami. In addition, more than one of them had noted Phee’s interest in Tech—notably Shep—and the people of Pabu had engaged in a few of their own matchmaking attempts. These included: offering them homemade food that Phee knew was commonly considered an aphrodisiac in many cultures, buskers playing romantic tunes when they walked past, people suddenly disappearing so that she and Tech could have privacy and engineering conversations in which Phee’s single status had been emphasized to Tech.

Phee found their attempts both annoying and sweet.

Then, as they reached the medbay, raised voices interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at Tech, who looked worried and then the two of them were rushing towards the entrance. They pushed through the open door and Phee took in the familiar sight.

Like most of the things on Pabu, the medbay wasn’t very fancy. It was one of the larger, dome-shaped buildings that had worn, wooden examination tables, threadbare chairs and a few old lamps dotted about. The medbay was also equipped with essential supplies such as bandages, pain medication, bacta and anesthetics. It had medical equipment, as any good medbay should, but it was all several years outdated. But, what was more interesting than the equipment in the medbay were the people. Echo, AZI and Wrecker stood on one side of the room, with the time-travellers on the other side. 

“What is happening here?” Tech asked, immediately slipping into mission mode.

“First, Echo treated Omega’s arm with remarkable efficiency,” AZI began. “Then, I performed a scan on Omega and confirmed that she does, indeed, have a chip, but before I could do anything further, Omega sprinted out. I tried to follow her, but this Mandalorian intervened and said no droids were allowed near Omega. I don’t understand.”

“I just don’t trust droids,” the Mando said. “They’re nothing but—”

An angry chirp interrupted him. Phee glanced in the direction of the noise and saw a tiny, green creature with big ears and black eyes who was wearing a tattered brown robe. The creature chittered again, looking more agitated.

“That was one exception to the rule,” Mando said. “And—”

“Did anyone see where Omega went?” Tech asked.

“Hunter went after her,” Echo said.

“I see,” Tech turned to Phee. “Could you locate them since you know Pabu the best?”

“I’ll find her,” Phee promised.

“Good. I will attempt to get these di’kuts to settle down,” Tech said, ignoring the cries of outrage from the others.

“Good luck, Brown Eyes.”

He sent her a small smile, and then turned to the others.

 Phee slipped out the door of the medbay and glanced at the cobble paths winding away.  She knew all the nooks and crannies on the island, from the rocky outcroppings overlooking the sea, to secluded beaches hidden from prying eyes, to overgrown clusters of trees that could be used to hide from annoying family members. The question was where Omega would decide to hide. Phee frowned as she thought.

If I felt overwhelmed, I’d choose somewhere far away from people, but somewhere that felt enclosed . . . I have it.

Phee strode down the path leading left, confident in her reasoning.

***

Phee carefully clambered over the slippery rocks. The sea spray always made the rocks here slimy and wet, regardless of whether it was low or high tide. It was just one of the many reasons why this cave was so treacherous—and what made the cave such a good secret landing bay. She climbed over the next pile of rocks and looked around. As she remembered, the rocky ground led straight down to a foaming pool beneath an opening that was half-hidden in the cliff-face. The rocks smoothed out just enough to provide a landing space for anyone with a small enough spacecraft—and the skills to attempt it. Some of the rocks had also been smoothed away by eons of ocean waves to form comfortable seats for those who didn’t mind the damp. As she suspected, Hunter sat on one of the rocks, with his arms wrapped tightly around Omega as she pressed her face into his chest. Phee could see the bandages on her arm and felt some relief at that.

“Hey,” she called softly as she made her way over them.

“Hey, Phee,” Hunter said.

Omega lifted her head from his chest and smiled weakly. “Hey.”

“Hey kid. How are you feeling?”

Omega pressed her lips together and Phee felt something pressing on her skull. She winced and Omega’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry! I—”

“We know you didn’t mean it. No one is angry at you,” Hunter reassured her as he ran his hand up and down her back.

“Yeah,” Phee came closer and crouched down in front of Omega. “So, why’d you run away, kid?”

Omega’s eyes filled and she swiped at them with her uninjured hand. “When AZI said I had the chip, I remembered what happened when Wrecker’s chip activated and . . . I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t hurt anyone. Tech’s going to program AZI and we’re going to get that thing out of your head,” Hunter said firmly as his grip on her tightened.

“ . . . but it’s safer if I—”

“Come on, kid,” Phee interrupted. “Do you really think your brothers are going to let you hurt them, or anyone else? Nah.”

Omega smiled sadly. “That’s not all I’m worried about.”

“I guess. Tech told me about the Force-sensitivity . . .” Phee left off, and Omega sighed.

“It’s horrible. It’s like everything is too loud, too bright. Like there’s a voice always whispering in my ear, but no matter how hard I try to listen to it, it’s not always clear. And, when I get near people, they feel . . . like standing too close to a fire.”

“That’s doesn’t sound pleasant.”

Hunter stroked her hair. “Kid, Tech said that he’s found some stuff that might help you get a handle on this . . . Force thing. And, we’ve got some Jedi here to help.”

“Nevermind the Jedi, kid. There are some people on Pabu who might be able to help as well.”

At Hunter’s confused look, Phee said, “Some Force sensitives knew that the Empire would hunt them down, so I may have offered a few of them a place to stay on Pabu when they asked.”

“You see? You’re not on your own,” Hunter said.

This time, Omega’s smile was genuine. “Thanks.”

“Now, how about we get that chip out of your head?” Hunter asked.

“Tech’s at the medbay and waiting for you,” Phee confirmed.

“All right,” Omega said. Then, her eyes lit up. “What did Tech say to you?”

Phee felt something brushing curiously against her mind. She could have batted it away, but . . .

Instead she concentrated hard on the memory of Tech taking her hand.

Omega squealed. “I’m so happy for you two! Tell me everything!”

Phee laughed. “I’ll tell you as we walk to the medbay.”

“Then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”