Summary: After the batch is captured, Crosshair makes Hunter choose between his batchmates. Kamino never looked so cold.
The training facilities on Kamino were one of the only places on the watery planet the Bad Batch had ever liked. However after being captured by the empire and brought to the citadel training simulator, Hunter wasn't so sure they would have that same safe feeling they used to in building. Crosshair stood on a platform with his rifle off to his side.
Hunter looked around Wrecker and Tech were off to his left and Echo stood in his right. "Bring them here." Crosshair said as he stepped off the platform, rifle in hands. "Leave Hunter."
The soldiers took the clones a few feet in front of Hunter, made them face their Sargent and forced them to their knees. Echo looked uncomfortable with his legs under him. "What is this?" Hunter inquired.
"Sometimes the leader has to make hard decisions." Hunter didn't say anything about his statement. Hard decisions were decisions he was used to making. "You have to choose."
"Choose what?" Hunter asked uneasy. His eyes flashed over his batch as he made sure they were okay.
"Pick who dies, Hunter." His words were full of malice.
Wrecker looked around. "What the hell?" Echo and Tech looked at each other quickly before looking back at Hunter who looked surprised.
"No. No one is dying." There was an unsettling worry in his voice that made the others nervous.
Waking closer to Hunter, Crosshair smiled at a sickening smile. "It's that or they all die. Come on Sargent, pick."
Remaining silent, Hunter looked past Crosshair to the rest of his team. There was no way he could choose between his batch. Even if Echo had only joined them a year or so ago, he wouldn't dare betray him. He was family just like the rest of them.
Getting more and more uneasy, Wrecker started to stir. "This isn't funny Crosshair." He chuckled.
"Oh, I didn't know it was supposed to be."
Tech was the first one to realize he truly meant for Hunter to pick between them. The consequences of not picking someone to die may be grave for all of them. There were few words to put the thought into that Tech could even think of forming. With a distressed voice he voiced his concern. "Hunter, I do not believe he is lying."
Looking at Tech, the others saw the betrayal in their brothers eyes. It was always hard to know how Tech was feeling but right now all the hurt he had been carrying around reflected on his face and skin. Reality settled into their minds.
Closing his eyes, Hunter tried to figure out what to do.
"You can't be serious." Wrecker yelled.
"This isn't you, Crosshair." Echo sighed. "Who's orders are you following?"
"My own."
Opening his eyes Hunter stared at the man who was supposed to be his brother. "What?"
"This is my own plan. I will break you for your betrayal." Crosshair was standing face to face with Hunter now.
"You." He snarled, angry at what the imperial said.
With a heavy sigh the sniper punched Hunter who fell back into the soldiers that were supposed to hold him still. They shoved him to the ground where he stayed. "Wrong one."
"Me."
Hunter's words hung heavy in the air. The rest of the batch looked at each other, trying to come up with a plan.
Crosshair grabbed Hunter's face. He tried to get away from him but his fingers dug into his chin and cheeks. "You know exactly who I mean." Trowing his face out of his hand he turned to the batch. "Pick before I kill them all."
Grabbing the soldier behind him, Wrecker tossed him over himself before standing. Before he could react the man had a gun slammed over his head. Blood ran down his face as he tried to look back up at his brothers.
Before anyone else could move, guns were placed at the back of their heads.
"Choose Hunter!"
"I can't. You know I can't. Give it up." Hunter noticed his body didn't seem to want to breathe.
"Remove Echo. It's too easy if he is part of the equation. Let's make sure this hurts." The soldiers dragged him away from the other two. However he didn't go without a fight. While he didn't escape, the effort was appreciated by the other two members of the batch.
"Let's talk." Echo tried to make peace. "This isn't what you want to do."
Ignoring him, Crosshair kept his attention on his eldest brother. "Ten."
"What?"
"Nine."
"Stop that."
"Eight."
Trying to get up, the soldier behind Hunter grabbed his hair and shoulder and forced him to stay in place.
"Seven."
"Crosshair stop!" Wrecker yelled out.
"Six." He hist.
"Enough."
"Five."
"Counting is childish. Stop this." Tech added.
"Four."
The number was at the end of Crosshair's CT number, Ct-9904.
"Three."
The end of Wrecker's. Was that all they were to Crosshair now? Numbers and enemies to be killed off?
"Two."
The end of Tech's CT. "Stop!" Hunter yelled shaking. "Stop!"
"One."
The end of Hunter's. Sometimes the leader has to make hard decisions. That was his job as a sargent.
"Okay!" Hunter's voice broke into something of a sob. The noise rang through the training corridor as he realized he was right about it becoming a place he would hate to think of. "Okay."
There was a pause as they tried to figure out who would die that day. "Hunter?" Wrecker asked quietly.
"Kill me." Hunter pleaded one last time. "The leader makes the hard decisions. Leaders put their team first."
Shaking his head, Crosshair smiled. "I know." There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Kill them both." He said.
"Tech!" Hunter screamed. "I'm sorry. I can't-" before you can finish speaking he broke into sobs that made anything else unable to be understood.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Tech took a deep breath. "It's alright." Everyone was startled at Hunter's decision.
The room was nearly silent. No one moved nor did they dare to. All that could be heard was the sound of Hunter's cries. It was impossible to breathe.
In the stillness a door opened. Omega took advantage of the distracting situation to shoot at the soldiers holding her brothers. Surprised they fired back at her.
Despite the noise, Hunter couldn't look up. There was hope for them now and it all started with a little girl they were yet to understand how she had changed them.
Fighting back, Wrecker and Echo were able to get up. The stronger of the two got their handcuffs off of them. Tech followed and slammed his arm into a soldier's leg. Then he went over to record to also get his handcuffs removed. The men took their guns and stunned the rest of the soldiers, including Crosshair.
Walking over to Hunter who was yet to move, Tech kneeled down to him. "It's okay." He put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand."
Still sobbing, Hunter looked up at Tech. "I'm so sorry." There was no look of hate or anger in Tech's eyes. Somehow that made it worse; the fact that he could accept Hunter choosing him to die without any anger.
Grabbing him and pulling him close, Tech tried to console his brother. While he did you hurt he understood the gravity of the situation and the thoughts that could go into choosing him to be killed.
"What happened." Omega asked distressed.
"You don't wanna know kid." Wrecker said quietly.
"We have to go. Wrecker, grab him." Echo spoke quickly.
Trying to stand Hunter let go of Tech. However, he couldn't seem to get on his head. It was hard to understand why he couldn't pull himself to his feet. He hadn't been hurt so it had to be the mental destress that he was facing. Wrecker grabbed him and helped him walk for a while.
As the batch got to the Maurader, they understood that Crosshair got what he wanted for Hunter. Their brother had broken him in a way that didn't know how to fix. He had placed a small distrust in Tech and an uneasy feeling over the entire family. It would take a while to heal for the situation he had so willingly put them in. With a shattered sergeant and his betrayed men, they left Kamino with one less room they had the ability to trust before the end of the war.
To Break - Mature
5451 words; Public Torture/Public Use, Stress Position
Hunter has been captured by the Empire, and they attempt a public interrogation to get him to share where Omega is. The rest of his squad, knowing this is a trap, decides to attempt a rescue mission.
CT-9902 - Teen and Up Audiences
1188 words; Unfortunate Fall
Tech wakes up after his Fall.
Tortured - Teen and Up Audiences
2175 words; Shared Trauma, Survivor's Guilt, "It's not your fault."
Crosshair feels guilty for being free of Tantiss. Omega can't help but feel the same way.
Imperial Property - Teen and Up Audiences
1453 words; Non-consensual Body Modifications
Tech wakes up from one of the many surgeries he needs after Plan 99, and he is sorely reminded that his body is no longer his own.
Just... Omega - General Audiences
1412 words; Overstimulation, Migraines, "I can't take this anymore."
Hunter hasn't slept in one rotation, and his overtaxed body is struggling with handling his enhanced senses.
Only Another Mission - Teen and Up Audiences
5827 words; Multiple Whumpees, Self Sacrifice, "I'm the only one who can do this."
The Bad Batch were tasked with stealing important data from Admiral Trench to get back to Coruscant. Unfortunately, they are captured by Separatist droids who are searching for the stolen data.
Chaos - Teen and Up Audiences
4617 words; Field Medicine, Running Out of Supplies, "Hold on, we're going to have to improvise."
Crosshair breaks his leg during a battle, and after three harrowing days of fighting, the Bad Batch is running low on supplies. They will have to improvise to help Crosshair. The cost is nearly too high.
Little Secret - Mature
1215 words; "You're so much prettier this way."
Hemlock is enjoying turning Tech into CX-2.
Complete the Mission - Teen and Up Audiences
2547 words; Hypothermia
A fight goes wrong and Omega ends up stranded on a frozen planet, the dangers of hypothermia looming. A presence she recognizes helps her survive.
For Her - Teen and Up Audiences
1957 words; Self Worth Issues, Pushing Away a Loved One, "You don't need to earn this."
Hunter hasn't been eating since Tech died and Omega was captured, and he doesn't sleep much either. All he does is search. Wrecker tries to do what he can to help, but Hunter keeps pushing him away.
Failed Objective - Explicit
3816 words; Hallucinations, Truth Serum, "Why would you even say that?"
Hemlock tries new tactics in his interrogation with Crosshair.
Subject 9904 - Mature
1607 words; Isolation, Sensory Deprivation
Crosshair is put in solitary confinement.
It Was An Accident - Teen and Up Audiences
1956 words; Animal Bite
Omega accidentally frightens Batcher, leading to her getting bitten.
Not Alone - Mature
3856 words; Seizures, Concussion, "See if you can follow my finger with your eyes."
Tech falls during a fight, and ends up hitting his head. It's up to his team to save him.
May They Be Remembered - Mature
5936 words; Removing Body Parts
Emerie is interrogated by Hemlock as he believes she aided in Omega trying to escape Tantiss once again. This leads to Omega being caught and dragged to sub-level containment. She is given a cruel ultimatum. All the while, battle rages outside.
I Am Coming Back - Teen and Up Audiences
1939 words; Drowning, Hostile Environment, "I don't know how anybody could survive that."
Omega, Crosshair, and Batcher must swim across a dangerous river to reach the downed ship that they can use to escape Tantiss.
A Brother - Teen and Up Audiences
1238 words; Abandonment, Misunderstanding, "Why did I even think you cared?"
Crosshair, without planning to, tries to talk to Hunter while he has him captive on Kamino. He still can't understand Hunter's decision.
File Name - Teen and Up Audiences
3766 words; Mind Control, "Everybody will end up despising you."
Hunter, searching for some answers about why he was rubbed the wrong way by so many things on Teth, turns to Nala Se's datapad, and he cannot believe what he's found.
Worth It - Teen and Up Audiences
1136 words; "I wish I could get you back."
Crosshair finds himself mourning Tech again.
The Right Body - Teen and Up Audiences
2874 words; Stranger to Caretaker, "I'm absolutely not qualified for this shit."
The Bad Batch are separated by a cave-in, and Echo is injured and his prosthetic legs aren't working right. He only has Phee to help him, and he's not too sure of her yet.
Never Better - Teen and Up Audiences
1815 words; Drugged, "This will make you feel better, okay?"
Wrecker throws Omega from the path of a grenade. He doesn't make it to safety.
Shattered Goggles - Mature
4101 words; Forced to Kneel, Whipped
Tech is captured on Eriadu before the mission hardly begins. Hemlock wants him for questioning.
A Promise - General Audiences
2459 words; Fever, Passing Out, "Hey, stay with me, okay?"
After visiting Axxila Omega is feeling sick. Hunter and the rest of the Batch take care of her while on the way to get her professional help.
Better Than Old Times - Teen and Up Audiences
2055 words; Deconditioning, Relapse, "It's normal that you need more time."
Crosshair relapsed into the sleeper agent Hemlock made him, and he stunned Omega and attempted to kill Hunter, and Tech. After the incident is over and things have calmed down, Crosshair feels guilty, and tries to make sense of who he is. His family tries to help him.
Choices - Teen and Up Audiences
1519 words; Humiliation, Betrayal, "How could you?"
Crosshair is contacted by Hemlock, and he has to make a choice. He made it. Now he has to live with it.
Beautiful Treasures - Mature
5260 words; Electrocution, Burning, "This is going to sting."
The Bad Batch are sent by Cid to rescue a slave on the planet 5251977, and Tech is captured by the slavers.
Waking Up - Teen and Up Audiences
2448 words; Before vs. After
Tech waking up on the Marauder pre-Plan 99 vs. Tech waking up on Pabu post-Plan 99 after being rescued by his family.
Upper Hand - Teen and Up Audiences
3329 words; Internal Bleeding, Needles and Stitches, "I didn't think the wound was that bad."
Tech gets into a speeder bike accident while pursuing scavengers on a mission.
Welcome to the Re-education Program - Explicit
2234 words; Ownership, Branding, "Everybody will know that you're mine."
Hemlock deems Tech has healed enough from his surgeries and can begin the Re-education Program.
A Mask - Teen and Up Audiences
2981 words; Poison, Delirium, "You're not making sense."
Tech is left for dead after being interrogated by imperials.
And They Would Not Let Him Fall - Teen and Up Audiences
1972 words; Panic Attack, Facing a Phobia
Tech goes on a mission after he's saved from Hemlock by his family. None of them expected heights would be involved.
I have a migraine. It's a bad one. One of those ones that lasts for days and comes and goes in intensity from "I am actively being stabbed repeatedly" to "oh god I'm actually dying". It feels like there's an ice pick being driven through my skull while it's also simultaneously splitting apart. The medicine has done nothing. And so I must suffer.
If anyone has any good clone whump fic recs, I could really use them right now. Bonus points if the clone is comforting and caring for the reader. Extra bonus points if it's injury or pain related, rather than sick fic.
I'm already familiar with, and have read, the amazing work of @staycalmandhugaclone but if anyone has any other clone whump fic recs, I would really appreciate it.
Sorry if this is a tad inarticulate. My capacity to string words together right not is not exactly optimal I just typed optional instead of optimal dear god
**SPOILER WARNING: Some references to pre-S1E11 events**
Ch. 1-3 (Chaos & Control): Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
Ch. 4-6 (Hushed Whispers): Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
Ch. 7-10 (Fears & Fevers): Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Coming Soon
"'untah..."
Omega's legs snapped like twigs at the knees and the cockpit flipped in her vision as she tumbled away from it. Hunter. The doorframe. The cabin roof.
Nothing.
She waited to feel her head crack against the durasteel. But it didn't. In fact…she didn't feel any pain…at all. The pounding in her skull now scarcely a thrum in the background, dimmed behind the feeling of something wrapped around her.
It was firm at first, but then it softened, deforming beneath her, changing its shape to accommodate hers until she was practically part of it, as if the Kaminoans themselves had designed her to fit right there.
And it was warm… everywhere it touched beginning to buzz with a delightful haze. Like sinking into a pot of heated honey, the sensation slowly swallowing her whole, and she didn't even mind.
Far away, someone called her name…
…Hunter?
Dazed and void-drunk, her attempt to focus on it felt as fruitful as trying to pinpoint the origin of an echo. She went to answer, but as soon as she opened her mouth it was flooded with a saccharine sweetness, thick molasses encumbering her tongue.
There it was again, Hunter's voice, her name, but this time the urgency of it muffled behind the syrup pooling in her ears. She tried reaching out to him, to let him know she was okay, but the honey was just so heavy...and she was just…so tired…
Slipping below the surface, its embrace was saturating; suppling her muscles and dissolving her bones, her skin growing senseless and her lungs sighing into their emptiness.
There was a peacefulness…in the way it took her apart. The deeper she let it take her, the more distant it made the ache... And although she felt sorry to admit it, she realised she wanted to stay...
She wanted…to sleep.
Suddenly, like a knife through butter, a shaft of light sliced through the treacle and white-hot pain exploded behind her eyes. All at once, everything came rushing back. Her bones mineralised and her muscles pulled taut, her skin sharpened and her lungs reinflated.
But the air she sucked in felt like fire, and every inch of her burned.
"Omega?!"
Empty-mouthed and exposed, she went to cry out, but before she could, the light vanished, as inexplicably as it had appeared and Omega plunged, feet-first, back into the sea of abyssal sap that awaited below.
Thick and cool, it smothered her, suffocating the blaze in her chest and dulling the pang in her head, accepting her pain as easily as it did her weight, and oh, how she wished she could simply drown in it.
But she couldn't... There was a pressure that hadn't been there before, caging her left hand, anchoring her there above the waterline of oblivion. She flexed her fingers to find the culprit, but they twitched against nothing. Yet, the sensation still lingered, ghosting her skin; the texture of stitchwork gloves over calloused pads and wiry sinew.
…Tech?
Curved metal came to rest atop her finger. What was that? It felt like---
The thing bit savagely into her nailbed, crushing soft tissue between keratin and steel. She shrieked, unable to pull away from it, her arms pinned by the viscous mire that engulfed her.
Then, it was gone, and she exhaled into its vacuous absence, the reprieve it wrought as only glorious as it was short-lived. A groan escaped her throat as something blunt and bony came to rest against her chest, pausing there to offer a taste of the kind of pain it could deliver.
She wanted to cry. It was all too much. Why was this--
The thing raked across the ridges of her sternum, back and forth, as if intent on sawing her in half, and to her abject despair, she felt the honey evaporate around her, abandoning her to this suffering. Without it, Omega plummeted from the high, crash landing so hard into her own body that she doubled over on impact.
The assault immediately ceased as she dragged air into starved lungs. She spluttered, her mouth tasting not of sugar, but of bile and vinegar. And her head...oh her head…
No…
She wanted to go back.
"Omega?"
Tech's voice. Tech's gloves. Her hand pressed like a flower between his palms. Her eyes fluttered open, but only halfway, ladened with dream lag. Vertigo tipped her upside down as the room skated beneath the point of her gaze; the floor, the corner of a screen, the flash of a red bandana, none of it staying still long enough for her to focus. Feebly, she groped for something to steady herself on, and her fingers twisted themselves into fabric that wasn't hers.
"It's alright kid, you're alright".
She cringed. Oh, STARS but her HEAD.
"N-no," she choked, tears spilling from her eyes. "No more..."
She couldn't stay here. They had to let her go back.
Tech cupped her cheek and dragged her line of sight to one side - presumably to direct her attention towards him - but as her head was pivoted on her neck, fireworks ruptured her vision and popped in her ears. After that, she heard nothing at all, except her own internal wailing.
--hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it--
"S-stop...ple-ase..."
She was weeping now, digging her nails into whatever flesh she could find. Finally, he released her, and she slumped back against whatever was cradling her. Vaguely, she wondered what it was, the softness of honey replaced now with the rigidity of plastoid. Something cold pressed gingerly against her forehead, and she couldn't decide if the sensation was painful or pleasant. But when the touch moved down to her neck and became sharp in its ministrations, her face twisted with agony.
Definitely not pleasant.
Travelling up and up, deft fingers digging into the ribbons muscle, probing the very roots of her spinal cord. She tightened her jaw, desperate for any sort of distraction, even an uncomfortable one.
Then, firm hands settled at her jawline, and slowly, her head was twisted to one side. For all she knew, the blade of a lightsaber had been driven right through the base of her skull.
She SCREECHED.
Pushed beyond the point of unbearable, some biological limit in her brain simply broke, and her body flooded with endorphins. Instantly intoxicated, utterly overdosed on endogenous opioids, her eyes flew wide open, the light no longer causing a pain she could perceive.
"I thought you checked her," he was shouting. "I thought you said she was fine".
Hunter was on one side of her, and Tech on the other.
Tech looked disconcerted. Hunter looked furious.
A chill dripped down her backbone.
Are they...fighting?
"She was fine," Tech spat back. "I performed the concussion assessment twice".
Oh, it was much worse than that.
They were fighting, and…it was her fault.
Thoughts spoken alone in her head inexplicably formed on her tongue, her voice so small and empty that she didn't even feel it leave her throat.
"E'ryone's...so mad".
In synchrony, both clones looked down at her, their aghast expressions blurred by the tears that were bubbling up from some deep wellspring.
Hunter was the first to speak. He purred something soft, something kind, but the shuddering of her sobs soured the sound of it.
"W-wha--'d I do...?" she cried.
Now Tech was leaning in, muttering with a sweetness she so rarely heard from him, but it was like her brain had forgotten Basic.
As she searched his face, she caught a glimpse of herself, reflected in the sheen of his goggles, and Stars, what a pathetic sight that was. Scraggly and wet-faced, mewling like some Tooka kitten strung out in a tree she'd been stupid enough to climb.
And suddenly, she realised she didn't want to go anymore.
"'m s-sorry..." she spluttered, knowing full well it would never be enough. "I'll...be g-ood...".
That was all she managed before the room grew too dark for her to see, a blackness crawling over her retinas. Gone was the honey, was the sweetness of oblivion. Now there was nothing, but an endless ocean of tar.
She had to stay. She had to fix this.
But as it consumed her, it became clear; she didn't have a choice.
===
Rhythmic but unpredictable, her consciousness washed in and out like the tide.
Occasionally, she was roused by one of the Batch as they lifted her for a sip of water, or shifted her from one side to the other. A few times, she awoke to find herself alone, the sounds of their collective voices echoing down from the gangway. Each sequence of words forgotten before she could begin to interpret their meaning.
Moments of any true lucidity were rare, and although she clung to them like lifelines, they sifted like sand through her fingers, eventually. So formless and unfathomable were they, that she began to believe her life had never been any other way.
Drawn back to the precipice of her senses, she became aware of a hand sweeping the wet hair from her forehead. Despite the miasma of pain that greeted her, she easily recognised the feel of it. Thick, roughened skin over rigid muscle.
Hunter…
"She's getting worse, isn't she?"
As his touch lingered, she shivered. It was nice, but somehow blisteringly cold.
The loathsome red light returned, illuminating the insides of her eyelids, the pressure in her skull compounding upon its intrusion. She winced, turning her head to one side in order to evade its glare, but as she did the rack beneath her seemingly swayed, and suddenly, oh, Maker, she was going to throw up…
"Her fever has escalated to 40.1 degrees". Tech was standing somewhere nearby, his words meaningless, his proximity important. "If we do not intervene soon--".
"--ech," she croaked.
The overwhelming urge to lean over struck her like a lightning bolt, but her body failed to comply. A hot flush of panic hurtled up her torso as her abdomen spasmed.
Thankfully, Tech was nothing if not observant.
"Roll her onto her side, QUICKLY," he shouted.
In a flurry of motion, three pairs of hands grabbed at her arm, her hip, and her leg, dragging her off her back and onto her tummy. Immediately, she vomited over the edge. At first, it was only fluid, but as she continued to heave, she quickly found herself choking out nothing but air and gagging on the acrid tang left behind.
Trembling with the ache of exertion, she whined in acknowledgement of how little it had achieved. She still felt wretched. At her complaint, an enormous palm began swiping clumsy circles over her back, broad with muscle but deliberately tender in its attentions.
That one had to be Wrecker.
Head partially slung over the bunk, Tech crouched down to wipe her mouth with a damp rag. "Hunter," he cautioned, his breath tickling her ear, "we cannot afford to delay any longer. We need to accept his offer".
What…what are they talking about?
"No. We already agreed that wasn't an option".
She tried opening her eyes. As Tech stepped away, she blearily made out the sides of Echo's greaves.
"It's the only option," she heard him grate.
Standing nearby, Hunter held his ground, his stance solid and unyielding. Omega gripped the rim of the bunk and gurgled as another wave of nausea gently rocked her. Over the steadily rising voices, Wrecker bent closer and began muttering to her; that she was 'doing good' and that it would be 'okay'. She whimpered pathetically as held-back tears began to dribble from her nose instead.
"Just think about what you're suggesting," Hunter growled in the background. "If we do this, and things go wrong, what do you suppose THEY'LL do to her?".
More than ever, she wished she could think straight. Usually, she was so good at thinking. If she could just figure out what she had done to make them all so upset, she knew she could find a way to make it better... Then, maybe they wouldn't have to bicker anymore.
"And if she becomes septic while we're standing around with our dicks in our hands, it won't matter what we do, it'll be too late".
Ugh, it was all just gibberish. Although she hadn't fully understood the words, their effect was plainly evident; Wrecker's hand on her back faltered momentarily as he hacked a cough, and to one side she saw Tech shuffle awkwardly on his feet.
As if becoming aware of an eavesdropper, Echo's voice sank low, but its venom remained. "She could lose her arms, her legs. She could be debilitated for life".
There was a pause, and in that second of silence, she couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.
"You don’t want that for her," Echo uttered from the gloom.
There was a rushing in her ears, whether the turbulence of her blood, or the memory of Kamino, she could practically hear the tide as it washed back in to reclaim her.
Somewhere distant, Hunter heaved a sigh.
"Alright. Comm him back. Tell him...we'll do it".
...do what? she wondered to herself. Then, she was gone.
===
Stars above… her… head.
How long was--
The smell hit her first. It wrinkled her nose as she breathed it in; recycled and dry with the unmistakable pungency of industrial-grade disinfectant.
Ugh, what…what's…happening?
Beneath her...the blankets felt wrong. Rubbing them between her fingers, they were thin, and scratchy, and definitely not hers.
And underneath THAT, the bunk...did it feel like it was...humming?
Fluorescent lights were strobing overhead, casting hypnotic patterns across her eyelids. She didn't dare open them for fear of the pain it would invite, but she didn't have to. Even sightless, she knew she was not onboard the Marauder anymore.
All around her rang the marching of boots. Two pairs? Three?
Okay. They were moving her. That's all. She was…on a hover trolley or something. Yeah.
Then a stone hit her centre.
...Marching?
The Bad Batch didn't march. The Bad Batch RAN. They strolled and they stalked, they danced and they slid and they charged.
But they did not 'march'.
Something was very, very not right.
As the trickle of doubt widened into a river, there came a voice. Timid and sourceless. Familiar yet foreign. Like the scent of an old friend, long ago forgotten but rapidly remembered. It was her own. The youthfulness of it marred by the trepidation of its tone. The weight of its terror. The warning in its words.
It told her now, the exact same thing it used to tell her then.
It said...'don't move'.
And she didn't.
Shortly after, the marching stopped. A door hissed open, and then closed. This room was dimmer, but its smell was much the same.
"Good day, doctor," droned a stilted metallic voice. "How may I be of assistance?"
Omega's mouth immediately went dry as a static white noise filled her ears, loud enough to drown out the roar of a starship.
This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Even lying down, her head was growing dangerously light with dizziness.
S-stay calm…just...don't move.
"Certainly," the droid responded, its hollow voice like a scalpel through the thick of her panic. "Please place the subject in lateral recumbency".
The room rotated on its axis as she was rolled onto her side. The movement jostled her neck and she had to bite back a groan, hoping that no one heard it.
Don't throw up…do NOT throw up…
A cold dread chewed at her bones.
"To optimise access to the intervertebral space, the subject must be restrained in the foetal position".
Two sets of hands descended on her. One cupped the nape of her neck and her shoulders, the other her knees and her ankles. Together, they pushed, folding her inwards, in and in and in until she was curled into a ball. This position was also familiar, but she didn't know why.
What were they going to do to her? Where was Hunter? Why wasn't he here?
"I shall aseptically prepare the site".
"Listen, we don't need the running commentary, okay?" someone grumbled. It sounded like a clone, the accent and pitch told her that much...but it wasn't a Batcher.
Stay still. Stay still. Stay still.
The air buzzed with the hum of dual repulsors as the medical droid drew near. Cold, metal appendages made contact with her skin, the fabric of her pyjama shirt lifted away to expose her trunk.
Fighting to keep her breathing under control, the small voice returned, quietly chanting its ominous mantra.
Gauze brushed the skin over the small of her back. It went around and around, abrasive as sandpaper, painting circles in orange antiseptic. The smell of it singed her nose and stirred something sick in her belly.
"This procedure is highly invasive," the droid explained. "Complete immobility of the patient will improve the likelihood of success whilst minimising the risk of complications. Therefore, the use of either a local anaesthetic or, preferably, intravenous sedation, is strongly advised".
Omega stopped breathing altogether. They were going to…put her to sleep.
If that happened... would she wake up? And, perhaps more importantly, where?
Locked in a room? A cage? A tube?
A tube…
With that, something broke. Deep inside her, small and made of glass. A jar she had sealed and hidden away, never to be opened. As it shattered, its contents poured out, swelling and sloshing, rising like floodwater. Long suppressed memories. Deep-seated fears. Drowning her from the inside.
She remembered this. The way the hands would hold her, the way the needle pierced skin and parted muscle, the way it pushed close, mere millimetres away from that central cord.
A threat, and a promise. Over and over. Every time. Move, even a little, and so easily, it could be severed. And then…
She'd truly be helpless.
Her stillness…no longer a choice; if she lost that too, they'd have taken everything from her.
Over the quiet begging of the small voice, something louder came.
This was a new voice. Older. Stronger. Hers.
And it thundered.
Omega, RUN!
Eyes springing open, Omega flung herself off the table, some feral instinct, fuelled by adrenaline, driving her forward with surprising agility. Instruments clattered as she collided with the floor, but she didn't stop.
Door, find the door-- there!
She leapt towards it, only to smack face-first into the thigh plate of a trooper as he side-stepped into her path. She fell backwards with a shout, clutching at her head as she glanced up.
White clone armour. Red paint. A shock trooper.
Oh, Stars, she needed to get OUT of here.
He stooped to grab her, but for once, her mind moved faster, eyes darting to the DC-17 at his hip. Ducking to avoid his arms, she snatched the weapon from its holster, using her momentum to quickly stagger out of reach before swinging around wildly to aim up at his helmet.
"STAY BACK!" she screamed.
"Woah, easy…" The clone lifted his palms up, as if to broker peace, but his slow, deliberate step towards her belied a different intent, and her double-handed grip on the blaster tightened.
"S-STAY AWAY FROM ME," she squeaked. Her vision was tunnelling, legs shaking under her weight. She knew she didn't have long. Stumbling slightly, she strafed a few paces to the right, trying to pivot around him. Far more practised at this dance, he countered her movements, maintaining his position between her and the door.
Oh no.
Again, he stepped closer, and she was forced to take a step back. She was losing ground. To the left, she heard a few shuffling sounds, and suddenly remembered they weren't alone in the room. But the trooper had a second blaster on his other side; taking her eyes off him now would be a death sentence.
"Take it easy," he was saying. Another step. Her mind raced, her breaths haggard and ineffective. He was going to press her into that corner, or manoeuvre her so someone else could snatch her from behind. She had seconds to make a decision. If she dropped him, she had a clear path to the door, then she could find somewhere to hide, and comm the Batch to come and get her.
She had shot troopers before with her plasma bow. This wasn't any different. What they were going to do to her, she-- she had no other choice.
The blaster wavered in her grasp. Face contorted in a horrified grimace. Sucking a breath through gritted teeth, she pressed her finger to the trigger.
"Omega, NO!"
A droid clad in black lunged out from her blind spot, diving between her and the clone as the blaster went off in her hand. The sound of it split the air, followed by something heavy and metal breaking apart against the floor.
Time stopped as everything froze, plunging the room into near silence. Open-mouthed, blaster rattling uncontrollably in her grip, Omega stared at the figure standing in the direct path of its barrel.
That wasn't a droid.
It was Echo.
And where his scomp arm used to be, there was nothing left but a smoking stump.
===
A pARt 4??
What is this madness? Make some noise. Break some shit.
THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING SO PATIENT. I love you all.
Summary: Hunter and Omega make their way back to the Marauder after finding themselves cornered by imperials.
Grabbing Omega, Hunter ducked behind some rocks. Ciddarin Scaleback seemed to love leaving out important details when she gave the batch missions. Like always, the clones learned the left out details the hard way.
Imperials where like a plague, they were everywhere. Maybe Cid hadn't know, she seemed found of them. If she had known, she had some explaining to do.
"Stay down" Hunter told Omega. She listened. Listening to his surroundings, the man tried to find the best escape route.
"They went this way!" An imperial Stromtrooper yelled to his troops.
"Hunter, what are we gonna do?" Omega whispered.
Pointing to a nearby tree, Hunter directed the girl to hide behind it. She nodded and ran over to the pine tree. Hunter followed her, trying to keep her safe.
After a while of making their way though the think forest, everything seemed quiet. "Are we clear?"
"We should be. Come on, let's get back to the ship." Hunter placed a hand on Omega's back to help guide and comfort her. The forest started to thin as they walked closer to their family.
"Are you close?" Echo asked over the comm.
"We should be." Hunter answered. "We are nearing the end of the forest."
"Okay."
The two continued walking along the edge of the forest until the Marauder was in their sight.
"There!" Bullets flew passed the two clones as the ran for cover.
Hunter wasn't sure what had happened. Anytime they were under fire, Omega was in his sight. The night was cold and the dark had a way of hiding the important part of life. She was almost right in front of him. Then she screamed. Soldiers had cornered them, a move the batch used often.
"Omega!" Hunter grabbed her from the ground and pulled them behind the sharp rock they had been running for. Looking at her, it wasn't hard to tell she had been shot. Blood flower from her right below the center of her chest.
Putting pressure on her wound with one hand, Hunter grabbed his blaster and peared around the rock to locate the imperials. Taking a shot at one of them, the soldier fell to the ground. "It's okay. You're going to be okay, kid."
Omega didn't answer. Her sobs would have drowned out her words if she had tried to speak.
Hunter sat with Omega in his lap. He held her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The girl cried out in pain. "I know, I know. Just hold on." Kneeling to try to shot the imperials, the man tried to keep one hand on Omega's chest, keeping pressure on the wound.
On the Marauder, Tech had been waiting in the cockpit for Omega and Hunter. Deciding to stand, he walked down the the ramp. Echo joined him after a few moments. The two said nothing.
Then they heard the gun shots. Without any words, Echo and Tech took off, running down the rest of the ramp with their weapons drawn. They heard the screaming and crying and the gunshots. They needed to hurry.
"Omega." Hunter tossed his gun off to the side, ingnoring the still approaching imperials. "Come on, stay with me."
A few more gunshots went off and Hunter covered Omega with his body. When all but Omega's screaming was silent he sat back up and kept trying to hold her wound.
"Hunter" Echo started, he watched the woods, carful of enemies. Tech ran over from behind their brother.
"Help me! Tech, help me! Omega's been shot!" Tears fell down Hunter's face. He was shaking. Blood covered his hands and his chest from here he had covered her. Omega's previously white shirt was stained red. The girl cried.
"Help me!"
"Hunter" Tech said quietly. Omega's crying had become silence and the fast paced fall and rise of her chest had stopped completely.
"No no no! Help me! She's hurt Tech! Help her!" Hunter begged.
"Hunter" Tech kneeled down to him. "With what we have available, we cannot help her."
"No you have to help her" he almost whispered. The sound of her cries was still ringing in his ears. "She's in pain" he muttered, "you have to help her. You have-" Hunter broke out into sobs. "Help-"
Echo kneeled down to Hunter. "We have to go."
Hunter stood, still shaking. Blood stained the grass where she had laid. Adjusting his googles, Tech followed close behind Echo and Hunter. It was going to be a long night.
Guess who just got their completionist badge for @ailesswhumptober? Woooo! What a fun month. And again, I am forever grateful this exists because my god, Whumptober completely dropped the ball on themselves and ruined my fun as far back as 2022. Forever salty about that, and forever grateful AI-less Whumptober exists. And wow, what fantastic prompts this year too!
Here’s my badge!
And here is where you can read the entire 31 fic, 86,142 word series, all for The Bad Batch.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: The Bad Batch
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Word Count: 6551
Summary: Hunter wakes up feeling sick on a mission on a Separatist world. He keeps this to himself, not wanting to worry his squad, and they all face serious consequences.
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Multi-System Anaphylaxis
Summary: Echo has to go to the hospital after cutting his hand open. Tech goes with him to help his stay calm as he tries not to think about Skako Minor.
Echo hated hospitals. They scared him. They seemed to quite and to loud for his liking. He hated being around them but even more he hated being in them.
Pabu was a beautiful place. Even that wouldn't ease Echo's mind as Tech and him walked towards their hospital.
"Are you sure we have to go?" Echo asked.
"The laseration in your palm is deep. It will need stitches. Maybe be more careful around knives next time." Tech kept walking forwards. "It should be a simple procedure. They will numb your hand and stitch it. You will have to come back to get the stitches out."
"Why can't we wrap it?"
"Bacta is not something overly easy to come by so they need to preserve it. So do we."
"Alright."
Hospitals were to clean, to blank, and to bright. Even though Echo didn't remember much from when he was with the Techno Union, he did remember some things.
It was cold and white. It smelled too clean. Echo shook his head. He tried to clear his mind. As they arrived the clone paused. "I don't think I can go in."
"I understand this may be difficult for you. Trauma is not easy to overcome. We will take it slowly. Or at least we will try. Can I provide some form of comfort to you?" Tech walked up to be right beside him. Despite his slightly robotic tone, Echo knew he was genuine.
Nothing came to mind. The domino tried to find anything that might help. even in the slightest. But there was nothing. "Just stay close?" He shook.
"I intend to." Tech started to walk forward.
Echo had been right. Exam rooms always looked the same. He sat in his, trying not to cry as a droid came in to look at his hand. Tech intervened quickly and asked if there was a living doctor there. The droid seemed offended but Tech didn't seem to notice. Still he went to grab a doctor.
Just as Echo had feared, all he could think about was the Techno Union. He thought about how the only memories he had were before he was put in the tube he was found in. Memories filled with pain and suffering.
Memories of droids that had stood over him, putting him back together. The few thoughts he had had been wondering if he should have survived or about what happened to the others; what would happen to him. The pain, though only a memory, had been the worst thing he had ever physically felt.
That pain could never compare to the pain that would come with healing from what had happened to him. That pain could never compare to the pain of losing your brothers.
Even now he wasn't completely healed. It felt like those droid's scalpels just kept cutting. Maybe he would never heal? Maybe those wounds would never scar.
Those droids had stood in a clean, white room. When thinking about it, it only ever reminded him of hospital rooms. Sometimes the people nearby cities or towns would let the clones use their hospitals. Other than that, Echo had never been in a hospital.
But now he knew why he feared them so much. They looked just like that room he had been put back together in. Even if his time on Skako Minor was a blur, he knew that this was what the room looked like.
A chill went down Echo's metal spine. He looked over at Tech who stood near the door. He wanted to call for him but his voice hung in his throat. The tears he had been trying so hard to hold back started to slide down his face.
Tech turned around and walked to his side. Unsure of what to say, he just sat with him. He had learned that he wasn't very good at handling current emotional reactions and crying was one of them. Echo reached for his brother and cried into his shoulder.
The doctor opened the door but stopped. She stood in the doorway, confused and slightly concerned. "Is everything alright?" She asked kindly.
"My brother suffers with trauma related to rooms that look similar to this one. Let him calm down." Tech never even looked at her. He just, somewhat awkwardly, held Echo.
Soon he was able to think a little better. He moved from his place in Techs arms to look at the doctor. She had gone to get him some ice chips and had just gotten back. "ice chips?" She asked.
"Sure." Echo didn't question why she had brought him ice chips of all things. He reached for one but hissed as he remembered why he was there. Tech took the cup and ate one of the pieces of ice.
"Let's get that taken care of." The doctor talked to Echo through the whole thing. It helped being able to focus on something else. When she was done, they were sent to the front to check out and then they could leave.
As they left the building Tech spoke. "That could have been worse" he said.
