He can hear metal thumps, a mixture of synthetic and organic voices, and he feels an awful pounding behind his eyes. Slowly, Tech sluggishly stirs from a nap he does not remember taking. Puzzled, he realizes he's very disoriented and has no idea why he would have decided to sleep in a location that was neither his rack on the Marauder nor his bunk on Kamino. He must be missing something here…
Echo, he remembers with a pang of concern. I must find Echo!
Logic dictates that if he is to locate Echo, he must first recover his wits and assess the situation. Awareness starts with pain, both visceral and somatic, increasing in intensity around the blaster wound in his side and the throbbing in his forehead.
He pries his heavy eyelids open to find that he cannot see remotely well. Under normal circumstances, this would be of no concern since he prefers to remove his glasses prior to sleeping and thus starts the first few moments of every new day peering through obscurity to find them. But he feels the weight and the pressure of his goggles situated on his face, and yet his vision is still exceedingly distorted in both eyes.
When he blinks slowly to bring the room into focus, he realizes he is looking through a spiderweb of broken glass as well as a viscous red substance. Once he manages to blink away some of the congealed blood that's likely sourced from a stinging wound on his temple, he finds that his left lens is intact. Though not ideal, one useful goggle lens is much preferable to having no goggles at all. Realizing his captors have confiscated all of his other gear and left him with nothing but his blacks, he supposes he should count himself lucky that they at least left him his glasses. He vows to make this stroke of good fortune very troublesome for those who have decided to take him and his brother as captives.
While waiting for his vision to adapt to the current restrictions, he decides to focus on what he can hear. He listens intently for any sign of Echo's deep, surly voice or any indication of his brother's whereabouts. The garbled voices wafting through the ambiance of the dim compartment finally transform into words that he can understand, and he listens in on a conversation occurring about ten meters away from where he lays.
"Well, what have we here?" says a confident, adult male in Basic, his tone light and playful. "This is a good get for us."
Tech slowly, silently, turns his head so that he can get a look at who is speaking and what they are speaking about. He's able to just make out what looks like a male humanoid bounty hunter and the same two ultramodern clankers who had incapacitated him and Echo, to begin with. The man and his two faithful guards are gazing down upon a prone figure in dark armor.
Tech suppresses a jolt of alarm when he realizes that the figure is Echo, unconscious on the floor, encircled by the three foes.
Echo!
Tech instinctively tenses his muscles, tightening his arms, legs, and core, ready to leap into action. But he ultimately decides he needs to garner more about their circumstances before taking any pertinent action. He forces himself to remain completely still and continues to listen intently.
He's glad he decided to lay low, because a few moments later, two other men who are armed and dressed as bounty hunters, saunter into the room to take stock of their captive.
"We snagged the most valuable droid in the entire galaxy," one of the newcomers comments, his tone reminding Tech of a predator playing with its prey before striking the killing blow. The man is likely of Twilek origin, garbed in an assortment of battered armor from head to toe, and is clad in an arsenal of unusual weaponry.
"Yeah, Tambor's shelling out a fortune for this one," says the human bounty hunter happily. "Though, if you ask me, I don't see what all the fuss is about."
Across the compartment, Tech's heart leaps into his throat at the mention of the foreman of the Techno Union. Again, he must tap into his exceptional training as a special operative to prevent himself from noticeably reacting to this horrific detail.
Still unaware that the other captive is conscious and privy to their discussion, the human turns to the third bounty hunter in the circle, a burly, yellow-skinned Trandoshan dressed similarly to his comrades.
"Ryybor," orders the human, as Tech notes that the human male is the likely leader of their seedly little band. "Is this the one they said escaped from Skako? I remember it was pretty fried, but you said you got a decent scent from that stasis pod or... whatever."
The Trandoshan, whom Tech notes is called Ryybor, leans over the captive and hisses malevolently, his long, forked tongue tasting the air.
"Yeah," he reports, his voice sinister and slippery. "It smells like the one."
"I thought Tambor wanted it recovered, undamaged," gripes the Twilek, gesturing to Echo's head. "Something's kronged-up here."
"That's right," hisses Ryybor. "What did your new clanker guards do to it, Thaxx?"
"Now, now, lads, keep your codpieces on," placates their leader, Thaxx. Then he turns to one of his droid guards. "TG-2, run a quick diagnostic for our business partners, would you?"
"Roger," obeys the TG-2 droid, emitting a beam of energy from one of its arm-like appendages.
Across the hold, Tech is listening fiercely.
"This unit has sustained minor damage," reports TG-2 after a minute. "It is still operational."
"You see?" chimes Thaxx brightly, clapping the other two bounty hunters on the shoulder. "Operational. We'll be rolling in credits."
"However," TG-2 continues. "I have detected several anomalies within the captive's composition."
"What kind of anomalies?" growls the Twilek.
"The captive has been heavily modified beyond Techno Union regulations," says the droid.
You are kriffing right he has, thinks Tech wickedly, knowing just how much Echo's body has been modified since he's the one who engineered most of it. Go ahead, TG-2, tell them how compatible Echo's cybernetics will be with any of Tambor's vile equipment.
"So, what, it's been upgraded?" asks Thaxx nonchalantly. "That ain't so bad, is it? Maybe it'll be worth more now."
"On the contrary," reports TG-2. "The original subject, the human clone, has been augmented outside of Techno Union parameters. The unit's hardware is no longer consistent with that of Baktoid Armories. As such, I can't run a sufficient diagnostic of even the most basic nature."
Both the Twilek and the Trandoshan bounty hunter round on Thaxx, menacingly.
"Hang on a minute fellas," he says to his angry companions, holding up his hands in conciliation. "Tambor can't possibly fault us for this. I say we come clean about it and ask him how he wants to proceed. We already stuck our necks out to the Republic by capturing it, the least we can do is stay on Techno Union's good side."
"And get paid," hisses Ryybor. "I agree with Thaxx. We've already made enough enemies as it is, and if we can still get half of the bounty promised, we'll be in decent shape. What say you, Ko'haq?"
"I'm not happy," complains the Twilek, crossing his sleeveless, muscular blue arms. "But I'll roll with it. We gotta tell Tambor now, though. The longer we wait, the more pissed off he'll be, and like you said Ryybor, we could benefit from making a few friends."
Across the hold, Tech's jaw tightens, and he silently debates whether to make his first strategic move at this moment or to wait. Until now, he thought it wiser to listen than to speak; to gather as much data as he could while evaluating their opponents. But now, the bounty hunters are about to take their leave, and the opportunity he needs may not present itself again in the future.
He clears his throat, hoping he doesn't sound as tired and uneasy as he actually is.
"Ahem. Excuse me," he calls out. His voice is raspy from disuse, but he corrects it quickly and assumes his typical air of confidence. "Excuse me, but I may be of some help."
The two TG units remain on guard, but the three bounty hunters have almost made it out into the hallway by now. At the unexpected sound of the other prisoner's voice, they turn around, swiftly.
"You say something, goggles?" snarls the Twilek.
"More like, goggle. Looks like he lost one," sneers the Trandoshan as three of them leer at Tech's broken appearance.
"I did say something, yes," responds Tech, suppressing an eye-roll at both the banality of the jibe and the idiocy of the question before it. He knows he needs to humble himself before these bounty hunters if he wants to make any progress in helping himself and Echo escape.
Tech says nothing further. He decides to wait to be prompted to present himself as subordinate, but more importantly, to give himself more time to think. He is somewhat making this up as he goes along after all…
"Well," demands Thaxx, edging closer to the prisoner to intimidate him. "Out with it!"
One step ahead of his captors, Tech flinches and casts his eyes downward, showing Thaxx that he is indeed 'afraid.'
"I-I said," he decides to stammer some; a common indicator of cowardice and intimidation. "That I may be of s-some help."
"How so?" demands the Twilek, whom Tech has noted is called Ko'haq. "Can you do anything to make us more money? Because if not, you're better off gagged."
Tech gulps, theatrically, as if he's never been threatened so dreadfully in his life. As if his snarky sniper of a brother didn't make similar comments to him on a daily basis.
"Hold up, Ko'haq," says Thaxx, still peering down at the uneasy captive. "That's why we nabbed him. He was wearing more technical tools than armor and weapons combined when we brought him in. I think he's the droid's overseer or something."
"The clone took at least one blaster shot to protect his droid companion," adds TG-3. "He defended it zealously, and at great cost to his own constitution. That is likely his primary task."
"That true, clone?" asked the Twilek, looking somewhat intrigued. "You gettin' fed and housed as long as you keep the droid in working order? You in charge of its maintenance?"
"I am, indeed," replies Tech. "I am responsible for his- ah- for its safety and its ability to function at full capacity." He nearly chokes when he describes his brother and best friend as "it," but powers through for the sake of their long-term objective to get the kriff out of here.
"Your guard is correct. The unit was damaged when we infiltrated the Separatist base," supplies Tech. "Though I cannot tell the extent of the damage from this distance, I am confident I can make the appropriate repairs. Ah, provided that I have access to the tools I had with me upon our capture."
Tech remembers to meekly cast his eyes down to the deck of the holding cell and adds in a few hand trembles for good measure.
Thaxx and his crew watch Tech, weighing their captive's words suspiciously. After exchanging a few uncertain glances, Thaxx waves the three of them out into the corridor to continue their discussion.
Though he pretends to be oblivious to it, Tech can just decipher their hushed conversation if he strains his hearing to emulate Hunter-level acuity.
"What do you say, Thaxx? I don't know if we can trust this nerd," warns the Twilek, Ko'haq.
"He smells weak," hisses Ryybor. "I say, have him do the repairs and then we can waste him. Or sell him to slavers. Make a few extra credits."
"You both make good points. Here's how I see it," says their leader. "You saw the state of the mechanic, right? He's beat to hell and even shot up. TG-2 and TG-3 say he did that covering the bounty."
"Yeah, so?" gripes the Twilek. "That doesn't mean we should trust him."
"So," explains the leader. "That means he takes his job seriously. That means we oughta let him do the repairs and at least make the bounty look presentable to our client. Plus, he might know more about these modifications. Tambor might want to speak with him and…"
The rest of the bounty hunters' discussion is lost on Tech as the nefarious trio makes their way down the corridor away from the holding cell. However, less than a minute later Tech is genuinely startled when the ray shield between his cell and Echo's deactivates, and his tool belt is tossed over the shoulders of the TG droids standing guard. The equipment lands with a thud and skids into the cell to rest against one of Echo's armored thighs.
"You've one hour, mechanic," barks Thaxx from the corridor. "Make it count."
Carefully climbing to his feet, Tech ignores the way his vision grays out around the edges and the terrible pain in his side because only one thing matters to him right now.
Echo!
Tech forces himself not to rush to Echo's side. He can't see very well but he knows he's being monitored by the TG droids and possibly via a live feed from their optic sensors directly to the bounty hunters. He makes sure to keep his movements calm, collected, calculated; as if he's inspecting the hyperdrive on the Havoc Marauder and nothing more.
He clinically reaches for his tool belt and unhooks a hydrospanner. He knows the tool by touch, alone, but decides to make a spectacle of bringing it up to his face, inches away from his eyes as if he needs to see the item to be sure of what he's holding. He continues this charade, stoically inspecting Echo's cranium, and casually gathering the tools he may or may not need to correct the damage.
Another few minutes go by, and Tech hears the commanding voice of Thaxx over the TG-2 unit's comms.
"TG-2 we need both of you," demands the leader. "Leave the prisoners in lockdown for now and report to the bridge."
"Roger," says the TG-2 droid as it waves TG-3 out of the cell and activates the locking mechanism as the hatch seals behind them.
Tech waits until the metal tramping of their footfalls fades away before rushing to Echo's side and gathering his brother in his arms.
"Echo!" he calls fervently, all of the emotion he's been keeping dammed up under the gaze of his captors coming out in a passionate rush. "Echo, wake up, brother."
To his extreme relief, Echo starts to stir in his arms. Tech cradles his older brother's head and gently rubs the center of his chest.
"Echo," he calls again. "I need you, vod. Please wake up."
"Nnn," groans Echo, his eyelids fluttering. "Tech?"
"Yes," encourages Tech. "Wake up now, please."
Echo's eyes flutter a few more times before slowly dragging open all the way. When they do, the ARC immediately winces in pain and squeezes them shut again.
"Ow, what the fuck," he grumbles, reaching his hand to the back of his head. "Tech, what..?"
Tech captures Echo's hand in his own and tenderly lowers it back down to the deck.
"Ah, about that," Tech says, reaching for his tool belt while keeping a firm, but gentle hold on Echo. "Allow me to fill you in."
"Yeah," says Echo, still wincing. His breath hitches a few more times before it evens out and he's able to pry his eyes open again. He frowns even deeper than usual when he notices Tech squinting at him from inches away, behind blood-stained, broken goggles. "Uh, yeah, Tech. Please do."