Summary: "In the distance, Tech can see Crosshair advising the Wookies in shooting from longer range, his own Firepuncher swapped out for one of their more primeval bows." The Batch helps to prepare the Wookies for an invasion. One-shot.
A/N: I'm not entirely fond of how this one came together. I feel like a lot of it is kinda unnecessarily drawn out, especially at the beginning, but…I like where it ends up.
Commence Fire & Prepare For War
Kashyyyk is just as the holos depict it to look.
Though it's mostly sand and jungle and water, the Bad Batch knows that it'll be worth cleaning their armor for later. This planet and its people are vital to the Republic- a system they can't afford to lose. Hence why the Batch is here, with their reputation of success unchallenged.
Tech has to admit, looking through the windscreen as he sets the Marauder down at the edge of the jungle, that the trees are a lot bigger up close than depicted in the holos. It's a shame he doesn't have the time to study them, to take samples of some of the bark. Perhaps another time, he hopes.
There's a small number of Wookie warriors who greet them at the treeline, their furred frames towering over the clones. Tech's unphased by the knowledge that a single of the Wookies has the strength of ten human men- they're much too friendly to them upon their arrival.
His visor is down, translating their speech to Basic, which he relays to the rest of the Batch. "He says that their base is half a klick away."
"You mean, they told us to land all the way out here just so we can walk?" Echo frowns.
"Aww, come on." Wrecker whines. "My legs hurt just thinkin' about it!"
"It's really not that far, Wrecker." Crosshair scoffs. He's had to run several klicks in some of their past missions, half of one really is almost nothing to him.
"It is reasonable. They have not met us, after all. They had to make sure that we would be peaceful, before taking us to their camp." Tech points out.
"Tech, tell them-" Hunter begins.
One of the Wookies says something, and his visor translates it.
"Oh." He comments brightly. "Well, that certainly makes things easier."
"What?"
"They understand Basic."
The sergeant returns his attention to the Wookie in charge. "Take us there."
The Wookie nods, his group turning and vanishing into the trees.
Good thing the Batch always moves fast.
In the distance, Tech can see Crosshair advising the Wookies in shooting from longer range, his own Firepuncher swapped out for one of their more primeval bows. The sharpshooter carefully adjusts the bow in one of the natives' hands, gives a firm nod- in place of words- of confirmation to fire. He may be prickly around the edges, but he's a good teacher.
Nearby, Wrecker and Hunter are teaching some of the more physical Wookies some close combat moves, standard regulation and not. It's amusing to watch Wrecker be thrown halfway across the training area instead of throwing something himself. Hunter's barely turning to look at him, obviously not too concerned. Their teaching is obviously working out as well, which is pleasing to see.
"Echo, Tech, you should join us!" Wrecker chirps on his seventh trip back, as unbothered as ever.
Tech's eyebrows raise beneath his helmet. "No, thank you, Wrecker."
He, Echo, and Tarfful- the Wookie chief- just finished up making notes of supplies to be gathered for their plan. Not to mention that his body would definitely not take the same treatment as Wrecker's very well. He's much happier standing on the sidelines for the moment. He needs to save his energy, especially if his fears of this turning into yet another siege are true.
"Echo?" Wrecker asks hopefully. "C'mon, you'll love it."
Echo, helmet under his scomp arm, eyes him with doubt. "I dunno, Wrecker. I might be half droid, but I'm not built for getting knocked around like that. We…don't exactly have the time to repair my cybernetics if something happens to them."
"You're no fun." The giant clone pouts, continuing on his way back to Hunter and the Wookies they've been training with.
Echo sighs, almost regretfully.
"He will get over it." Tech assures him.
"Yeah, I know."
There are other words left unspoken, but he doesn't press the matter.
The pair remain there for a long time, watching Wrecker and Hunter teach the Wookies, occasionally glancing up to Crosshair and his team to see their progress. It all appears to be going well- right on schedule, actually, for once- and even Crosshair still seems to be in a decent mood. Tech decides that he likes Kashyyyk, with its kind people and its tropical landscape.
Echo finds the peacefulness suspicious, and heads back to the Marauder to run a proximity scan for incoming ships.
That's when Tarfful strikes.
Tech's startled more by the words popping up on his visor than by the now-familiar purr of the Wookie chief behind him. "You should join them."
"I am fine right here." He replies, glancing at Tarfful over his shoulder as he comes to join him in overlooking the training. "Besides, I cannot compete with any of them in that aspect."
"Small does not mean weak. Not for my people, or for yours." There's a brief pause in the translation. "We all must prepare, in mind and body, for the upcoming battle if we are to survive."
"I am prepared." Tech says. The Marauder is in decent condition, for once, and he has all of the ammo he could possibly need for the battle. They've finished planning, the supplies are in the process of being gathered by a Wookie team. And yet, he's turning down combat practice.
Echo chooses that precise moment to return, catching Tech's end of the conversation. His interruption is less than helpful. "Hey, if he's asking you, I'd give it a shot."
Why does everyone want me to get hurt? Tech huffs out a defeated sigh, sliding off his helmet and handing it to the cyborg. "Put this on, and keep the visor down. If the Wookies say anything, this will translate it for you."
"Okay…" The former ARC trooper nods, taking the helmet and, after taking off the cybernetic implant on the back of his head, puts it on. "You want mine?"
"It would not fit anyway." He declines, tapping a single finger against the frames of his goggles with a shrug. "I will manage without it."
"Right, well…be careful, then." Echo advises, sounding almost like Hunter.
"It would be wonderful if that was possible here." He remarks as he heads over to the training group.
Wrecker lets out a whoop of joy as Tech resigns himself to his fate.
Tech ducks beneath a swing, feels a large paw tear through his hair, pulling on some of the knots that come with wearing a helmet for hours on end. He winces, kicks out at one of his opponent's ankles. A growl marks a successful hit, the Wookie opposite him stumbling back, giving him just enough time to straighten himself out.
"Get him, Tech!" Wrecker jeers enthusiastically.
As if he'll ever knock the Wookie over. Tech's muscles are running on reserve energy, and his chest is heaving in exertion.
His opponent barks out a question in its native language.
Echo translates from the sidelines, the white of Tech's helmet clashing with his black armor. "He wants to know if you need a break."
Tech runs a gloved hand through his hair to make sure none of it was torn out. "No. Let's keep going."
"Don't work yourself too hard, Tech." Hunter advises from Echo's side. "Let him know if you need to stop."
Stop worrying for a single moment of your life, Hunter. He fondly rolls his eyes.
Tarfful calls over to Tech's opponent, who nods quickly in response.
The fight resumes shortly.
It's evident that the Wookie warrior is not using his full strength- which Tech knows is more than likely to prove fatal to even Wrecker. He can't find fault in the native taking care not to harm him, though the fight is still taxing.
Tech instinctively analyzes his opponent's movements, trying to find a pattern. There's always a pattern, whether the being creating it knows or not. Of course, the Wookie isn't aware, and there's the occasional unexpected blow that nearly knocks Tech off of his feet, but he manages rather well, all things considered. He even gets his own blows in here and there, but his opponent is as unshakable as a rock.
It's Crosshair who distracts him, the sniper's voice coming through his wristcomm. "Separatist ships, eight klicks out. Might want to gear up down there."
Tech stops mid-battle to respond. "We are geared up, Crosshair."
Then, he's suddenly being knocked into from behind, and he's unprepared for it. He flies forward, his footing completely and utterly lost beneath him, and all but slams his forehead on a rock with a grunt mixed of pain and surprise.
"Tech!" Hunter calls, holding up a hand for the fighting to cease as he dashes in.
Wrecker follows him, his helmet sitting on the top of his head to reveal wide eyes.
Tech disentangles his limbs and pushes himself up to a crouching position. He frowns at the glistening crimson drops that fall from the sky, their shapes warped by the cracks splitting his vision. "What...?"
"Kriff, you're bleeding." The sergeant swears, kneeling down beside him.
"Oh." That makes sense. "It would appear so, yes."
"You okay?" Wrecker asks.
"Well, I am still alive."
"Wrecker, get out of the way." Hunter snaps.
The giant slinks back.
He feels light headed suddenly, some of the aftereffects of slamming his head on a hard surface just beginning to catch up with him. He can feel a pressure building behind his eyes, pounding and pulsing through his entire skull. There's a large, furred hand on his shoulder to steady him, an apology rumbling into his ear in a language that he cannot currently understand.
"It is not your fault, Chewbacca." Tech manages, frowning as a droplet of blood cascades down one of the lenses of his goggles. "I should have been paying attention."
"Echo, grab Tech's pack!" Hunter barks.
The former ARC trooper, who'd been frozen, snaps into action and heaves the pack from the ground, hurrying over to put it down.
"What happened this time?" Crosshair drawls over the comms, no doubt watching them.
"Tech nearly cracked his head open on a rock." Echo tells him.
"Great timing."
As if I did it on purpose.
"Crosshair, how long do we have?" Hunter asks, rummaging through Tech's gear.
"Plenty of time to get him patched up." The sharpshooter reports.
"Good."
Tech gingerly reaches up to press against the gash in his forehead, wincing at the sting of his touch.
He'll be fine, he knows. The bacta spray that Hunter's searching for will temporarily stop the bleeding, hopefully long enough until a respite in the fighting, where he might be lucky enough to administer himself further treatment. But for now, the bacta spray and a head wrap will have to do.
He stifles a sound of surprise as a pair of large brown arms wrap around him and pull him back into the chest of the Wookie fighter, Chewbacca. He rolls his eyes, resists the urge to struggle. Save your energy.
"Ah, here it is." Hunter finally says, pulling the bacta spray from the bottom of Tech's pack. "You should keep the medical supplies closer to the top, Tech."
"Probably not a bad idea." He agrees. He hears the familiar hiss of the spray and winces as the sting in his forehead grows more painful for a brief moment, then fades altogether, swallowed by the headache and the bacta. "You could have warned me."
"Where's the fun in that?" Wrecker jabs.
"You gonna be alright?" Hunter asks.
"I will be fine." Tech assures him, rolling his shoulders as Chewbacca releases him. "We should start preparing for the droids."
"Right." The sergeant nods. "Echo, go warn the chief. Tell him to get the fighters ready."
"On it." Echo salutes. He moves to leave, then whips around and stops at Tech's side, handing his helmet back. "You might need this."
"Without a doubt." He acknowledges, taking it and resting it on the ground.
He shakes his head, clearing it slightly, and turns to his pack. As Echo dashes off to wherever Tarfful's gone off to, he carefully bandages his head, cleans up his gear, and lets his brothers help him up.
"Crosshair?" Hunter inquires into his comm. "Status?"
"Finally."
Kashyyyk does turn into a siege.
The 41st is sent out to replace them, and they're sent elsewhere.