If Tech hadn't already had the wind knocked out of him when he was kicked in the chest, he certainly would have when he crashes brutally into the bulkhead. The pain in his head and in his side is blinding, but as a highly trained operative with several missions under his belt, it's not unfamiliar. He blinks slowly, encouraging his eyes to focus and awareness to return. He draws a deep breath in through his nose, exhales slowly through his mouth, and gradually turns his head to assess how their precarious situation is progressing.
What he observes across the compartment ignites a surge of fury and adrenaline inside him.
The three commando-like droids, in all their horrible glory, are still present. He notices that while similar in build to commando droids, these models are advanced, sturdier, and outfitted with additional weaponry. More alarming, is the fact that one of the droids is clutching Echo by his occipital implant and the ARC trooper is dangling painfully off the ground, fruitlessly struggling to break free from the vice-like grip in which he's trapped. Echo twists in pain as the delicate hardware implanted into his cranium and neck sparks hazardously. The three foes stand there, watching him with nothing more than cold curiosity.
Tech sees red. Knowing full well how much his brother is suffering and worried that these fiends will do irreversible harm to him, he reaches for the blaster that lays discarded by his feet.
...
Despite his ferocious attempts to squirm away from the droid brandishing him around by his cybernetic headpiece, Echo's foes are unfazed. Through the blinding, burning pain at the back of his skull, Echo is barely able to hear the droids calmly communicating to each other.
"What type of model is this?" intones one of the mechanical enemies.
The third droid moves closer and uses its dead, expressionless optic sensors to examine Echo more closely.
"Unknown," concludes the droid, before addressing Echo directly. "Republic droid, state your unit number and designation."
Echo growls at the question and grits his teeth against the pain and in defiance of the implication.
"I-I'm," he grinds out, haltingly. "I'm n-not... a kriffing..."
The droids are confused by his difficulty responding and the words that he's providing.
"Its vocabulator could be damaged," intones the droid holding Echo. "Or perhaps it is defective. What are our orders?"
Echo continues to thrash, choking back a cry of rage.
"We have confirmation that this unit is our target," says the droid on the left after receiving a transmission directly into its audio sensors. "We are to neutralize it and detain it until-
Suddenly, the droid is interrupted when a well-aimed blaster shot punches through its chest plate, leaving a small crater of molten durasteel in its wake. The droid drops to its mechanical knees and falls face-plate first onto the deck, deactivated.
The two remaining droids turn to find that their other quarry has returned to awareness, recovered his lost blaster, and is lining up to take another shot.
...
Tech's hand is shaking as he aims his blaster at one of the two remaining droids. He's unable to see clearly, and these droids are much closer to Echo than the other one had been. He doesn't dare fire his next shot until he can be absolutely certain that he won't accidentally hit his brother. He's forced to hesitate much longer than he would if he wasn't injured and half-blind, and the small delay allows an approaching newcomer to react.
An armored humanoid, approaching silently, deftly shoots Tech and Echo both with stun bolts before he even crosses the threshold into the compartment. The clone mechanic slumps back to the deck, his blaster clattering to the floor as he loses consciousness. The clone cyborg being held aloft by his cranial implant also succumbs to the stun round and abruptly goes limp in his captive's claw-like appendage.
As both droids turn to acknowledge their humanoid leader, the one holding the stunned cyborg loosens his hold on the captive.
"TG-2!" exclaims the man. "Don't-
But he's too late. The droid, satisfied with the effect of the stun round, has already released his captive. Echo crashes bonelessly to the ground with an undignified thunk, his body exhibiting no signs of life or energy other than the hissing sparks gradually dying out around his cybernetic headpiece.
- drop him." Deadpans the humanoid leader, intensely annoyed. "Be careful, you idiots. We only get paid if he's still functional. How many times have we gone over this?"
"Sorry, boss," intones the droid, with a cursory glance down at the TG unit that had just been destroyed. "TG-1 was tasked with emphasizing the details."
The boss huffs out an exasperated sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"It's alright TG-2, at least we have both of them and in one piece," he says glancing critically at the primary target and then to the goggled clone slumped on the floor against the bulkhead, bleeding. "Huh. Relatively, I guess."
"What now, boss?" asks the other remaining droid. "Should we dispose of the human clone?"
"Glad you asked, TG-3," says the man. He stalks over to the bulkhead and uses the toe of his boot to flip the unconscious man onto his back. He critically considers the injured clone's corrective goggles and the abundance of unique technical tools integrated into his battle kit. "We'll bring the mechanic as well. Process both of them and meet me in the hangar. I want them loaded for transport by the top of the hour. I'll go update our client on the status of the bounty."
The humanoid male strides purposefully back toward the passageway, but stops a few meters short of the hatch, grimacing at the scrapped droids, shattered glass, scorch marks, and blood spatter littering the compartment. "And clean up this damn mess. We're trying to keep it professional, here."
The droids nod in affirmation, watch their leader depart and follow soon after.
Echo and Tech are dragged bodily out of the control room to be processed. Both brothers are knocked out cold and completely oblivious to the misfortune that awaits them.