As promised, in celebration of May the Fourth and all that . . . :D Here. Have a new chapter. :)

The fact that the training field base had been recently used was obvious. It was immaculately clean, with not a speck of dust or dirt in sight. Hunter paused near the barracks and glanced inside. There were bunks here for several hundred troopers. This place must normally be used by multiple squads or even platoons at a time.

"Big place," Wrecker commented from beside him. "You think we'll be staying here instead of on the ship?"

"No idea," said Hunter. "Cody said he wanted to reach the first checkpoint by sunset, so we might be making camp there. Tech, what's this planet's rotational time?"

"Twenty-four hours," Tech replied promptly. "However, local time would be fourteen hundred hours, not eleven hundred. Based on the angle of the planet's axis and our current location, sunset will occur at approximately eighteen hundred hours."

Crosshair gave an impatient huff, and Hunter cut in before he could say anything disparaging. "Let's adjust our chronometers to local time, then. Fourteen hundred hours?"

"Yes."

They'd just finished when Cody entered the hall, studying a datapad. "All right, Bad Batch. I just got the security codes. While I run some standard checks on the base, head back to the Marauder and pack supplies for two days."

"Yes, sir," said Hunter. "Want us to make up a pack for you?"

Cody pointed to a pack situated against the wall. "All set. After you're prepared, bring enough rations here for three more days, as well as any other gear you think you might need, then lock down the shuttle. We won't be using it until we leave the planet."

Hunter nodded and headed outside. He had no idea what the commander was intending to teach them – maybe they'd just be running drills. Of course, Bad Batch had probably run more endurance drills than most regular troopers, at this point.

As they entered the ship, Tech said, "Hunter, what do you suppose we'll be doing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," admitted Hunter, heading for the bunkroom. "Hey, Crosshair, grab the extra ammo clips."

"Right."

Tech followed Hunter and took two of the packs from the closet, still talking. "I did research the base on our way here. It appears that squads and platoons are often pitted against one another in challenges meant to simulate real battle situations. There are also segments of the area devoted specifically to survival challenges."

"We do those a lot already," Wrecker said, sounding disappointed as he dropped half a dozen ration bars in each pack. "You think we'll just be running more drills, Hunter?"

"I don't know," Hunter said patiently.

"Oh – right."

Tech loaded two MREs in each pack while Hunter rearranged the ration bars Wrecker had thrown in. "I'm sure the commander has something specific in mind," he said after a moment. "He doesn't seem the type to just run us through pointless drills."

"No," agreed Tech, rifling through the contents of his own pack. "At first I thought that having us rerun the Citadel challenge was useless, but it turned out to be quite the opposite."

Hunter sealed his pack and glanced at him. "You too, huh?"

"Well – yes," said Tech. "We had already run the challenge successfully. Here."

Hunter attached Tech's pack to his armor, then turned so Wrecker could do the same for him.

Crosshair entered the room and grabbed Wrecker's pack. "Not really," he said.

There was a short pause while Tech fixed Crosshair's pack. When the sniper failed to elaborate, Hunter gave him a questioning glance. "Crosshair? 'Not really' what?"

"We never really ran the Citadel challenge successfully." He slung his rifle over one shoulder and hooked an extra cable attachment to his belt.

"True," said Tech after a moment. "Maybe we will just be running drills, then. It's not as though we performed those properly, either."

Wrecker squinted one eye shut. "Yeah – we did a few times. There was that week last year, when, uh. . ."

He trailed off, and Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech simultaneously gave Hunter guilty looks. Hunter raised a disinterested eyebrow, pretending not to remember why they'd been so cooperative for that particular week. The three of them had been teaming up, doing everything their instructor told them to do, but doing it wrong. If Tech was told to shut down the two frontmost turrets, he'd shut those down and all the others as well. If Crosshair was told to take out a target, he would, but only after taking out five others. If Wrecker was told to break into the fortress, he'd waste time and explosives by making an opening for himself instead of going through the door. And those were just the tamer examples.

Eventually, H'win had gotten so irritated – Hunter couldn't blame him, he'd been more than a little annoyed himself – that he'd spun on Hunter and shouted at him for a good three minutes, bellowing that Hunter had to keep his men under control. He'd eventually ended by yelling that if Hunter couldn't get his act together, he'd be reassigned and his men permanently transferred to maintenance – those three would be lucky if they managed to survive in that position.

Hunter returned to the present when Tech left the galley, mumbling something about restocking power cells. Crosshair and Wrecker followed him, and Hunter set to work dismantling and checking his blaster, ensuring that it was ready for action. The situation with H'win hadn't been entirely his squad mates' fault. Hunter himself had been the one to cause H'win to lose his temper.

When the Parwan bounty hunter started chewing him out, Hunter had taken it quietly. If he were honest with himself, it hadn't been hard to – he'd simply ignored H'win after the first few sentences, his mind occupied with how he was supposed to keep the squad under control when they refused to listen. When H'win pointed at his men and yelled that they'd be lucky to survive as maintenance clones, though, Hunter had lost his temper.

He knew now that he hadn't been angry at H'win so much as he was angry at the truth in the statement – he knew that he was handling the squad wrong, and that if things went badly he would be partially responsible. He knew that his teammates, if assigned to maintenance, would spend their time creating incidents and causing trouble wherever they could. Worst of all, Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker might well decide to actively antagonize the Kaminoans. Hunter knew for a fact that the three of them, even without his help, had the ability to shut down all of Tipoca City.

They'd be caught eventually, though, and then – without intervention from someone important – they'd either be executed or returned to the experimental lab. As far as the Kaminoans were concerned, there'd be no point in keeping them around.

With these thoughts already filling his mind, H'win's words were like setting a spark to a flare. Hunter had lost his temper and gotten in the instructor's face, threatening him.

Hunter clipped his rifle to his belt, trying not to remember some of the things he'd said. He'd been completely out of line. He'd ended his own tirade with threatening H'win with an unpleasant death should he even think about reassigning Hunter and effectively decommissioning the squad. And hadn't that been a fantastic example for his squad, their own sergeant doing exactly what he always told them not to do, and worse.

The confrontation had come to an abrupt halt when the Parwan's own rising temper had caused him to accidentally generate an intense electrical field. Hunter had woken in medbay a day later with a raging headache and no idea of what had happened, until he saw H'win hovering nearby. They'd stared at each other for a minute. Then the Kaminoan doctor had asked Hunter if he remembered what happened, and he'd stared at her, unsure of whether or not he should even bother answering. As soon as the doctor left, though, H'win said, "It appears that you startled me during a combat scenario and I instinctively defended myself."

Hunter had raised an eyebrow and asked about his squad, H'win had replied that they were practicing at the shooting range, and neither of them ever mentioned the subject again. Sure, H'win had put a report on Hunter's file saying how unwilling he was to use his authority, but for whatever reason, the Parwan had let him off lightly. His teammates, though, had been so compliant and obedient for the following seven or eight days that their various instructors had started to worry.

Shaking his head in amusement at the thought, Hunter grabbed the crate of ammunition and headed outside. Wrecker was waiting, the crate of extra rations on one shoulder and a pack of explosives in his free hand. Hunter hoped Cody wouldn't mind the fact that they'd brought their own explosives.

When Crosshair and Tech joined them, Hunter checked to make sure Tech had his cable – he forgot it frequently – and said, "You guys both have knives, right?"

Crosshair punched in the security code to seal the outer door. "I've got a standard-issue in my pack."

"I do as well," added Tech.

"Okay." Hunter said, leading the way back to the base. He really would prefer if they had something better than standard-issue, because those weren't exactly high quality, but it wasn't as though Tech or Crosshair used knives much. Still . . . "They won't do you any good in your packs."

Tech reached over one shoulder, opened his pack, pulled out his knife, and clipped it to his belt. Crosshair did the same, and Hunter tilted his head questioningly at how cooperative they were being.
Tech caught his look and shot him a defensive one of his own. "You're right that they won't do us any good in our packs."

"And here, we might actually need them," Crosshair added, taking the ration crate from Wrecker.

Hunter did not comment, instead turning and leading the way back to the base, where Cody met them in the hallway. "The Marauder's locked down, Commander."

"Good," said Cody. "The scans checked out. We're ready to proceed."

Just over four hours later, they reached the checkpoint. Hunter stopped at the top of the hill, observing the visibility and lack of cover. "We're making camp here?" he asked.

"That depends," said Cody, removing his helmet. He looked a bit pale, Hunter thought – then again, they had just marched nearly ten miles over rough terrain, and the commander was probably still weak from his injury. "Would you pick this as a campsite?"

"No," said Hunter, gesturing at the snow-covered grass. "There's no cover. We'll need to light a fire, and it'll be visible for miles."

Cody nodded. "But this is a Republican facility," he said. "The planet has no dangerous lifeforms. No one else is currently on-planet."

Hunter hesitated. He knew all those things, but his instincts still told him that camping here was a bad idea. Cody was the commander, though, and had a lot more field experience than he did. Even on the march here, that had showed. Despite his injury, Cody had handled the terrain better than he and his team – who were used to hard floors and precise angles – had.

When the silence dragged on a moment too long, Hunter realized that his team and Cody were watching him. He glanced questioningly at Cody.

The commander slung his pack off one shoulder and smirked at Hunter. "So. Are we camping here, or not?"

Hunter opened his mouth, then closed it, then said, "You want me to choose?"

"You're the sergeant."

And you're the commander, Hunter thought, more than a little confused. But now that he knew what Cody wanted from him, it was easier to explain his thoughts. "I don't think there's a good reason for us to camp here, sir," he said.

"None that I know of," agreed Cody.

Hunter had the strangest idea that Cody was being deliberately obtuse. He certainly didn't look amused . . . in fact, he looked a little too obviously unamused.

After a few seconds, Hunter grew tired of waiting for Cody to give an order or make a suggestion. "Commander, there was an area about two hundred meters back – partway down that last hill, and with a deadfall to one side. We could keep watch easily from one angle, and by the time anyone got close enough to see us, we'd already have seen them."

Cody nodded again, more seriously. "Good plan, Sergeant. Lead the way."

As he obeyed, and his team fell silently in behind him, Hunter realized that Cody was not going to teach them. Not the way Hunter had imagined. It was beginning to look more and more as though Cody's method of teaching would be to let Hunter take the lead and let the team deal with his mistakes.

A little more backstory than 'active' story here, but I needed to get it in there . . . Updates should resume on a weekly basis, now that I'm back to working on this story. As far as writer's block goes, at least for the moment, I'm out of the woods . . . Though the Bad Batch aren't. Literally. They're in a forest.

. . . I'll just shut up now, shall I? :D