I thoroughly acknowledge the poor quality of this fic, as I had to force myself through writer's block and a hard case of emotional exhaustion, and this was the only story I was capable of writing while in this state.

Star Wars © Lucasfilm


Crosshair thrashed under the Kaminoans' grasps, fingers clawed as his gaze snapped towards CT-33-7641 with such fury that he almost flinched. His chest constricted as the Kaminoans forced Crosshair onto the operating table, the medical droids approaching his lanky brother with an easy slowness. Crosshair's eyes snapped to CT-33-7641, his teeth curled in a snarl that CT-33-7641 could hear through the observation glass.

"What are you doing, Tech?!" Crosshair snarled as he continued to fight the Kaminoans and their restraints, the hurt and pain and betrayal in his tone even obvious to CT-33-7641 and his tone-deaf brain.

CT-33-7641 tilted his head and watched Crosshair, noting the way Crosshair finally stopped fighting when the medical droids injected the sniper with a sedative, his movements slowing gradually, though not before Crosshair shot CT-33-7641 a glare through the window.

"You're a traitor!" Crosshair spat out before the sedative claimed him and he slumped backwards against the operating table, unaware of what the Kaminoans were planning to do to him.

CT-33-7641 felt a strange twinge in his stomach at Crosshair's words, a twisting, sickening pain that would have made him stumble were Nala Se and Tarkin not standing next to him, watching him and Crosshair. He stiffened his spine and stood straight, eyes flicking towards the Kaminoan and Imperial as they spoke in hushed tones.

"They will be… safe now, correct?" CT-33-7641 asked when he heard Tarkin and Nala Se finish their conversation, his voice monotone and level, unlike the strange feeling in his stomach.

He could not understand why his throat constricted at the thoughts of his brothers - who had been minutes away from escaping Kamino and leaving him behind, until Tarkin had sent CT-33-7641 to bring his brothers back - but his throat did and he hated it. This was where they would be safe! Where they were meant to be, to be with their brother they were going to leave behind, so why was there… conflict in his chest?

Tarkin turned to CT-33-7641, gaze traveling along the contours of his body for a long, unnerving moment before the Imperial nodded. "They will all be safe. You did very well in capturing all of them, and they will serve the Empire well in protecting the galaxy from insurgents."

Relief surged through his chest at Tarkin's words, and CT-33-7641 could not help but smile as he nodded respectfully to Tarkin. "Thank you, sir-"

"Sir?"

Tech felt a hand gently brush against his right shoulder, pulling him from his exhausted sleep as he slowly rubbed at his eyes and realized where he was. His right cheek was pressed against the hard durasteel of his desk, and he could feel his goggles cutting into his skin, a mark he knew would last for hours. With a yawn, Tech shifted off his desk and turned to see the fern green features of his longtime assistant, Koyi Idrall, looking down at him with a worried expression.

"You were muttering in your sleep again, sir," the Twi'lek whispered as she cast a superstitious glance around the lab, then backed away from Tech. "The rest of the lab went home already, but I know they are worried for you. This has become far more frequent, sir, and I need to know if you are unwell?"

Koyi's concern was touching but wholly unnecessary and, with a dismissive wave of his hand, Tech turned a slight smile to her. "I am alright, Koyi, merely strained from lack of rest. You do not need to worry over me so often."

"If you say so, sir," Koyi breathed as Tech turned to look at the project he had been working on before he'd fallen asleep - and had another one of those invasive memories -, only for Koyi to push a file of papers on top of the datapad filled with schematics on his latest project. "You do remember that the Coruscant gala is tonight, right, sir? I already organized your notes and filed them in the folder exactly as you ordered. You can't skip out again, Admiral Tarkin was asking about where you were at the last gala and I know he did not believe the excuse I gave for your absence."

Tech rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he picked up the heavy file and opened it, his lips turning down into the slightest of frowns as he stared down at the embossed symbol of the Galactic Empire and the sharp words that invited him to the annual Empire Day gala on Coruscant. Every year since the Empire and the clone army had saved the galaxy from the traitorous Jedi, the Empire put on parades, galas and events around the galaxy to celebrate the unified nature the Empire had brought to the galaxy.

Tech hated attending the galas and parades because of how crowded and loud they all were but, as the Chief Science Officer of the Imperial Science Bureau, it was mandatory he attend every gala he was invited to. Why the Empire insisted he attend the galas and parades, Tech could not understand, since the Director of the Imperial Science Bureau, Dawn Withey, was always in attendance.

"I have more important uses of my time than attending a pageant for Imperial egomaniacs," Tech growled, a pang of fire coursing through his temple as he thought of the backlog of project ideas his scientists had sent him over the last week, then sighed.

As much as Tech wished that he could stay in his lab on N'Zoth and work, he knew that he could not avoid another Empire Day gala. And he could not justify sending Koyi in his place again, not when Director Withey would send him a scathing report on his inability to "represent the Imperial Science Bureau correctly" if he forced Koyi to go in his stead.

Tech let out a low sigh as he straightened to his feet, rubbed at the bridge of his nose underneath his goggles, then turned to Koyi. Koyi's eyes widened slightly as Tech tried to send her a reassuring smile only for it to falter with a tired sigh, and her expression turned ever more worried as she suddenly reached her hand towards Tech.

Some old instinct made Tech flinch away from Koyi's hand, his heart racing oddly for a brief second before the Twi'lek's fingers brushed his temple. She muttered something under her breath as her eyes flicked over his face, appraising him with a furrowed brow and a worried set to her jaw.

"Have you had the Kaminoans check for the cause of your headaches?" Koyi asked, an edge to her voice that he could not define.

Tech swallowed at Koyi's question, eyes flicking away from the Twi'lek as he shook his head in answer. He had routine check ups three times a month on Kamino, where he was put under stasis and poked and prodded for what Tech didn't know. All he remembered was that his headaches increased after each visit, dulling his senses and slowing his thoughts to a trudging pace.

There was no point in discussing his frequent headaches or visions with the Kaminoans, not when he understood them to be a byproduct of his routine check ups. The Kaminoans knew what they were doing, and Tech was not one to question their reasoning-

Fire lanced through his skull, slamming against him and forcing Tech to stagger against his desk with a pained hiss. A muffled voice shouted at him in incomprehensible words, though it was drowned away almost immediately by Koyi's sharp bell-like tone and the Twi'lek's hand steadying his shoulder.

His chest heaved as Tech gathered his breath and shuddered, fingers clenching into fists at his side as he heard Koyi hiss his name softly. He acknowledged his assistant with a nod, though his thoughts were anything but focused on her.

Why did he feel so wrong when he thought of the Kaminoans? They had created him and took care of his illnesses and had even fixed his genetic structure so that he no longer aged at an accelerated rate. The Kaminoans cared about Tech, so why did some strange part of him want to flee the moment he thought of them?

They were his creators, the ones who kept Tech and his brothers alive, so why did he feel like he was missing some truth when he thought about them? He had never doubted the Kaminoans before… until his headaches had become a constant and he could not think for the pounding, splitting agony inside his skull. It was wrong… abnormal of him to think anything negatively of the Kaminoans, and yet it lingered inside him like an acid, eating at his soul as he wavered between trust and unknowing over his creators.

He hated indecision, and could not understand why he was wavering in his thoughts over the Kaminoans. Something was wrong with him, that much was clear.

"Tech?" Koyi's voice drew Tech from his thoughts, her eyes wide and darkened with worry as she retracted her hand from his shoulder. "Your headaches are getting worse, aren't they?"

"... yes," Tech finally admitted as he unclenched his fists and rubbed at his forehead.

It was undeniable that Tech's headaches had grown more pronounced, and that his ability to work was being compromised by his lack of focus. He hated to admit to any shortcoming, but Tech knew that Koyi was correct in her assessment of his state. He would have to report to the Kaminoans about his headaches, and hope that his creators could figure out the reasoning behind the splitting pain in his head.

"I will schedule an appointment for you, sir," Koyi said as Tech's headache slowly subsided, "please, for everyone here at the lab, get your headaches checked out. I know your vision has been getting worse and that may play a factor in your current state, but we would all feel much more at ease with you healthy again."

Koyi's words made Tech pause in the middle of removing his lab coat, his eyes flicking to his assistant and hesitating upon her anxious expression. He had hired Koyi from the Ryloth Academy of Sciences ten years ago, when she had graduated at the age of seventeen. A young chemist, Koyi had blended into his starting lab immediately, and he cared for her as if she was family.

Tech never wanted to upset the Twi'lek, and was more than willing to heed her advice. She cared for his personal welfare and safety, and he knew she was happiest when he listened to her advice.

With a relenting sigh, Tech nodded to Koyi and sent her a weak smile. "I will fly to Kamino after the gala tonight, if that will ease your worries?"

Koyi's mouth twisted before she nodded, then suddenly rushed forwards and hugged Tech. Tech flinched and stared down at Koyi, confused by her physical display of affection, then slowly pushed the young Twi'lek away from himself.

"I had your dress suit pressed and cleaned for you," she said as Tech turned towards the exit of the lab, "I hung it up in the Marauder for you."

"Thank you, Koyi," Tech obliged as he gave her a stern nod - he was not very skilled with expressing himself emotionally -, and headed out of the lab.

His shuttle's hangar, large enough for Tech to repair the attack shuttle, was a short five minute walk from his lab, but those five minutes were flush with thoughts.

Tech had no theories, aside from his rapidly degenerating vision - which was poor even with his highly specialized goggles -, to the source of his headaches and that fact worried him. He didn't know if the Kaminoans' extensive surgery into his base genetic structure, to slow his accelerated aging, had damaged or weakened his body to become more susceptible to illnesses. It was plausible but something told Tech that the answer was not that simple.

His thoughts circled as Tech stepped into the dimly lit hangar and stopped to appraise his shuttle. Her paint was polished and every upgrade finely tuned, but she had a fine layer of dust coating her hull. Tech had not flown his shuttle for any reason but to report to Coruscant in three years, and some odd feeling of nervousness prodded into his chest as he brushed a hand down the nose of the shuttle-

The shuttle's scanners screamed as more hyena droids joined the swarm chasing the Havoc Marauder. Tech twisted the yoke, throwing the shuttle sideways as he dove under a giant stone arch and applied as much boost to the thrusters as he could.

He heard Wrecker shout in the hold as the shuttle accelerated forward, engines screaming as Tech watched the hyena droids drop away from his scanner. He shot a glance to the hold, where Wrecker was attempting to staunch Hunter's bleeding with one large hand, all while blood pooled from a gaping wound in Wrecker's back.

The mission, a data retrieval from the Sluis Van Shipyards' data center on the planet's surface, had gone drastically wrong when Tech and his brothers had been ambushed by commando droids. Hunter had only seconds to respond before he was shot through the leg and chest by two commandos, then Crosshair was taken down. Wrecker, always the first to jump in to save his brothers, had charged into the middle of the commandos to save Crosshair, and then he'd been taken down with a well placed grenade.

Tech's brothers had been downed, though Wrecker had struggled to his feet and was fighting with such ferocity as he tore through the enemy droids, and Tech could do nothing to help them. He had snuck into the center's data room at Hunter's order and was busy downloading all of the data when he'd heard the commando droids approach.

It had taken all of Tech's strength and intelligence to get his brothers, with Wrecker's help, out of the range of the oncoming droid forces and back to the Havoc Marauder. Which he was now flying desperately to escape the surface of Sluis Van - all while Wrecker yelled at him to fly straight.

Tech checked the Havoc Marauder's scanners for the hyena droids then, with a quick warning to Wrecker, slammed the yoke forward and made the shuttle dive straight towards the planet's surface. Wrecker shouted at Tech as the ground raced towards them, though Tech ignored his brother as his eyes snapped between the scanner and the rapidly approaching ground-

The Havoc Marauder's engine screamed as Tech slammed on the shuttle's air brakes, the jerk of the ship almost throwing him into the yoke as the ship's wings folded almost into its resting position. The ground was mere yards from the shuttle when Tech released the air brakes, pulled as far back on the yoke as he could, and activated the ship's backup thrusters.

He felt the Havoc Marauder nearly scrape the rocky surface of Sluis Van as the shuttle shot up vertically towards the planet's atmosphere, the dull sound of explosions and the rapid disappearance of the hyena droid signatures telling Tech that his maneuver was successful. Tech let out a sigh of relief he had not realized he had been holding then, as he calculated coordinates into the Marauder's navicomputer, jumped into hyperspace in the atmosphere.

Tech jerked away from the Havoc Marauder, the suddenness of the memory unsettling as much as it was…

Tech missed his brothers with a yearning he could not understand completely, and no equation or scientific study could quantify how deeply Tech's emotions for his brothers ran. He had long ago become in control of his emotions under the Empire, in all aspects except those relating to his brothers.

The Havoc Marauder had never felt so empty as it did whenever Tech used it to fly to meetings on Coruscant, for his brothers no longer shared the same space inside the attack shuttle as they once had. He hadn't seen Hunter in years, and Wrecker he only saw on the rare few times his brother's division of troopers were given leave on Coruscant.

Crosshair…

Tech swallowed back a strange clawing in his throat as he thought of Crosshair, the brother who had once been the closest to him, and the report he had woken up to years ago.

Commander Crosshair and his squad have been reported killed or missing in action on Quell. Only one of the troopers' bodies was found at the squad's last reported coordinates, deceased on arrival with a blaster bolt to his right eye. No sign remained of the rest of Commander CT-9904's squad and, even after thorough searching, no trace of the commander or his squad were ever found.

It is believed that the squad was ambushed by rebels, and captured, the report went on in the same, theoretical vein for the rest of five pages, but the first paragraph was enough for Tech.

He had almost lost his brothers when they had tried to flee Kamino without him, but Tech had never thought he'd receive a cold, emotionless letter telling him of one of his brothers' deaths. He still felt… unsettled by that thought, unsettled that he was not told in person of the loss of one of his brothers, and unsettled that so little was known of Crosshair's fate.

The Empire protected the galaxy yet could not find his brother?

A flicker of doubt wavered in Tech's heart before he felt a jab of fire pulse from his right temple, forcing him almost to his knees as he slammed into something hard. A wheezed hiss of pain escaped from Tech's mouth as he rubbed at his temple and sent a glare down to the piece of metal he'd stumbled into-

"Gonky?"

He hadn't remembered leaving the GNK-series power droid on the last time he'd been in the Havoc Marauder, but the defective power droid was watching him, and making quiet, worried gonks in his direction. Tech felt a tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he laid a hand on Gonky, and gave the droid a reassuring pat.

He had been only five Galactic Standard years old when Tech had found the defective droid stashed in one of Kamino's incinerator rooms, and had taken in the droid. Tech had seen it as an opportunity to practice his repair skills and working on delicate power systems, but he'd never expected the power droid to stay in their barracks.

Wrecker had quickly found a use for the power droid in using it as weight to lift, and Tech enjoyed working on the defective power droid, even after he'd realized he could not fix Gonky. The droid had followed him and his brothers everywhere, even during the Clone Wars, and Gonky was all that remained of his brothers, now that Tech could not see them anymore.

He let out a sigh as Tech moved to the cockpit and powered up the ship, running through the systems check carefully as the Havoc Marauder responded to his commands slowly. The ship was, by Imperial standards, outdated and a relic worthy of the museum on Naboo, but Tech could never give up his shuttle.

It was sentimentality that had forced his hand when Tech had filed the Havoc Marauder as personal property, refusing to sign it away into the Empire's personal fleet. He could not face the idea of leaving the ship that had been his home for years, not when he still held out hope that he would be able to spend the rest of his years with his brothers.

He had saved them when they had tried to leave him behind, but the Empire had split his brothers apart almost instantly after they had performed check ups on each of his brothers. Tarkin had turned to Tech and congratulated him on his good work, calling him by his serial number, only for some odd part of Tech to interrupt Tarkin and inform the Grand Moff that his name was "Tech".

Lama Su and Tarkin had given Tech unreadable, cold looks that had almost made him quail and shiver, but he'd stood as straight and strong as he could under the pressure of their gazes. Both had finally allowed Tech to call himself by the name that had come to his mind without recourse and, while it had felt right, Tech still felt strangely odd about the fact that he had spoken against the Prime Minister and Grand Moff Tarkin over something as unimportant as his name.

Some cynical part of Tech - too much like Crosshair - argued that Tech's brothers had been taken away from him because of his momentary lapse of judgement and inability to stop his mouth from saying what had been running through his brain.

He had stopped his brothers from leaving Kamino to protect them from being hunted by the Empire, and because they had been planning to leave without him. Tech had thought that the Empire would let him work with his brothers, but he had been assigned to the Imperial Science Bureau while Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker had been given command positions in the Imperial Army for Crosshair and Wrecker, and the Imperial Navy for Hunter.

Tech was lucky to see his brothers once a year, if even that, and no amount of projects or praise from the Empire and his lab's funder could make the hollowness in Tech's chest heal. To compensate for the distance between himself and his brothers, Tech worked on thousands of projects, ranging from upgrades to the weapons systems of the Empire's fleet of TIE fighters, or to the Imperial trooper armor Tech had styled after the katarn armor he and his brothers had used during the Clone Wars.

Anything - and everything - to protect his brothers… though he had clearly failed in protecting Crosshair. Tech's mouth twisted in a frown as he watched the blur of hyperspace shoot past the Marauder's viewport, then rubbed at his forehead.

After Crosshair's death had been reported, Tech had poured his every waking minute into the slog of projects and blueprints he had been sent from different branches of the Imperial defense force, anything to make up for his inability to protect Crosshair. He was protecting his brothers with every invention he designed, and that was all that mattered to Tech.

A hard nudge of metal against his leg drew Tech's gaze down to Gonky, who was watching him closely. Tech reached out and placed his right hand on Gonky for a brief moment before he sighed and, straightening in the pilot's chair, focused on the upcoming task.

He'd have to face his introverted nature and stuff it as far down into himself as he could, for the galas always turned into a chance for Tech's sponsor, the mega conglomerate company of the Archer family, to show him off to everyone at the gala and praise him for his work. Naturally, Tech enjoyed the warmth that shot through his chest whenever Alfred Archer praised him, but that never matched the anxiety he felt while surrounded by hundreds of people.

Everyone who attended the gala knew he was a clone, and he had not missed the sneers or disgusted looks members of the military and other branches of the Empire would send him when he walked past. As Tech had told Koyi, he had much better things to occupy his time with than energy consuming galas that left him drained and unable to function for days afterward, but it was a fact he had to face often.

Gonky pressed against Tech, the power droid's presence oddly comforting as the Havoc Marauder traveled towards Coruscant.


Tech heard the band long before he stepped into the giant atrium that housed Coruscant's Empire Day gala, the beautiful twang of the violins, violas, cellos and double bass an airy, lifting sound. Tech stiffened in his white dress suit as he joined the line of guests that needed to be registered in, and pulled at the embroidered sleeves of his dress shirt nervously.

He had always felt more comfortable in his armor when he was out and about, and found wearing civilian clothes exposing and without enough information. His armor kept him up to date with his surroundings and protected him from blaster fire. His dress suit did nothing except draw peoples' gazes to Tech and made him feel vulnerable. Tech hated the gala for more than just the crowds, and the Empire's insistence in making him wear the suit only chafed at his frustration.

The first gala he'd been invited to, Tech had donned his armor during the entire gala, only for the Emperor's personal guards to think he was a threat and arrest him. Thankfully, Grand Moff Tarkin had argued on Tech's behalf and made the Red Guard release Tech, albeit with the promise of removing his armor - and a strange, predatory hunger in the Moff's eyes as he looked at Tech.

He still felt a flush of embarrassment when he thought about how everyone in the gala had seen him be arrested, and so he'd taken to hiding in the corners of the atrium every gala until his sponsor started forcing him to meet the wealthy man's friends. Tech had trained himself to fake smiles and cheerful greetings at the galas, but he hated having to socialize with people who weren't his brothers. Too many still stared at his goggles or muttered about his "less than human" status as a clone, and all of their taunts and wary glances made his skin crawl.

"There he is! Tech!"

The boisterous and cheerful voice of Alfred Archer snapped Tech from his musing, drawing his gaze to where a family of four were hurrying towards his position in line. The Archers were a rich, blooded family from Raxus, all spitting images of each other with their blond hair, golden eyes, and lanky frames, and they always seemed friendly with Tech.

He found them somewhat odd, but he preferred them over most Imperials who attended the galas, even if Alfred was obsessed with showing Tech off to anyone who'd listen to him.

"Greetings," Tech said as the Archers squeezed into line behind him, his tone polite and controlled as he shifted forward so that the family could fit in behind him.

Johnny and Peter, the sons and upcoming Imperial officers, greeted Tech quietly before they resumed rigid stances, though Johnny pulled out a model TIE Defender after a moment and started to tinker with it. Peter rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, while their mother, Adelaide, shook her head and smiled softly towards her sons.

"How have you been?" Alfred asked as he beamed a smile towards Tech, the taller man's hand resting against Tech's shoulder firmly.

"I have been alright," Tech answered quietly as he tried to move out of the range of Alfred's reach, though the man only pulled him closer and slapped him on the left shoulder with a raucous laugh.

"Good to hear that! I always look forward to your next project there, young man!" Alfred boomed as he finally released Tech.

Tech scowled and brushed at his dress suit as the line advanced forwards, his thoughts focused on the long list of projects he still needed to work on as Alfred continued to speak to him. He acknowledged the man with an occasional nod or growl of affirmation, but Tech wasn't really listening to the man as the guard at the front entrance finally checked Tech's clearance and let him in.

The Archers followed Tech into the crowded atrium, Alfred's booming voice drowned by the music from the band and the cacophony of shouts, greetings and loud, boozed cheers that made Tech's ears hurt. Tech's hearing had never been as finely tuned as Hunter's, but he had always found his hearing to be sensitive, especially since the Empire had ended the Clone Wars and he had to visit Kamino for routine check ups.

And the sound did not let up as Tech and the Archers sat down at their designated table, leaving three open seats for the last family registered at the table, the ache setting into Tech's head and leaving his thoughts unfocused.

"Tech?"

The sound of Johnny's voice, a gravelly and raspy growl that had come from an anooba attack, turned Tech's head towards his right, where the young, blond man was watching him closely. Johnny's lips quirked into a strange smile as his fingers danced over his model TIE, before he jerked his head towards Alfred, who was busy arguing with a member of the Imperial Security Bureau.

"Dad's going to want to show you off again, but if you tell him you aren't feeling well, he will leave you alone," Johnny hissed quietly, his words drawing a glower from Peter, who narrowed his eyes at Tech angrily.

"He likes you a lot better than us," Peter snapped before Tech could answer Johnny, the bitter set of his jaw making Tech turn his head curiously and analyze the young officer.

He had never spoken in depth with Peter or Johnny, but Tech had always read a strange pricklyness from Peter whenever their father led Tech around and introduced him to numerous Imperials. Tech had analyzed enough footage to understand that the young man was jealous about something, though Tech was not able to theorize what had driven Peter to dislike him so strongly.

Tech narrowed his eyes towards Peter, curiously observing the way his shoulders were shoved into his body and how his fists were clenched in front of him on the table. Peter was exhibiting clear anger and his posture was defensive… curious.

"Our relationship is merely that of a business partnership, and I cannot understand how your blood relation could like me more than he would his own sons," Tech stated coolly. "That is an illogical and emotion driven assumption that is incorrect and without proper evidence. He is your father, and loves you. He sees me as his business partner, just as I see him as the funding power behind my lab."

To Tech, family was the most important thing he had in his life - even if he never saw his brothers anymore -, and he could not understand how anyone could choose their business or work over their family. The idea that Peter believed his father preferred Tech over himself was… it made no logical sense.

Alfred Archer had funded Tech's lab since the very first day that Tarkin had decided to assign Tech to the Imperial Science Bureau, and every single invention Tech had created had been paid for by the Archer family. Tech relied on the Archer family for funding and nothing else, and he merely saw the family as business partners, so Peter's statement made little sense.

Peter let out a snort at Tech's response, then jerked his head away from Tech and glared at the empty plate laid out before him. Johnny shrugged his shoulders in response then leaned on his brother and whispered to Peter quietly, leaving Tech to himself once more.

He adjusted his goggles then peered around the atrium, scanning the crowd for any sight of his brothers - truly wishful thinking -, as he gathered intelligence on his surroundings quickly. He saw Grand Moff Tarkin speaking with the directors of the many Imperial Bureaus and a number of Imperial Navy admirals, their postures stiff and arrogant.

Tech kept searching the crowd but, after minutes and minutes of looking, he gave up and turned away. He knew that his brothers would never be invited to Coruscant's Empire Day gala, but he could not help the irrational hope that filled his chest when he thought of hearing Wrecker's loud laugh or seeing Hunter's faint smile again.

He'd contacted Hunter via holovid when he'd had a few minutes of free time months ago, but his brother had never answered. Which made sense - complete, logical sense. Hunter was a commander in the Imperial Navy from what Tech had read, and he knew that his brother was constantly busy. Hunter had no time to respond to Tech's call, that was all. Nothing more than a lack of time on his older brother's part.

But Hunter's failure to respond hurt nonetheless, and Tech could not help but feel worried for his brother. Hunter would have responded before, even if he was unwell or busy. Hunter always responded to Tech's anxiety-fueled comms, no matter what situation his brother was in, and the silence from Hunter was eerie, to say the least.

Tech knew that his brothers were not seen as important enough by the Empire to be invited to the Coruscant gala, but he could not stop himself from looking for them. It was wishful thinking of Tech to think he'd see his brothers, and the strange yearning in his chest only made him more aware of how lonely he was. He'd saved his brothers, and for what?

Tech rubbed at his eyes as he pulled his datapad from his pants pocket, his focus not even capable of staying on his datapad as his headache continued to shoot bolts of fire through his skull. Tech knew that this was no ordinary headache, for the symptoms were unlike anything he'd ever read or experienced before.

He'd had migraines before, but none as intense as what had been inflicting him for months. They were often debilitating, leaving him weakened and he had noticed an alarming increase in his blood pressure of late. Tech was stubborn, but even he could accept that he had to visit Kamino and have his months-long migraine checked.

If something happened to him because of his stubbornness, how would he be able to protect Hunter and Wrecker? The thought of leaving his brothers scared Tech, and he could not help the way his fingers dug against the screen of his datapad.

He hardly noticed when Alfred hurried away, yelling greetings to other Imperials, then forced himself to stare at his datapad. He looked over an article on purgils and wished for the day to be over already, anything to head to Kamino and find out what was wrong with him.

Tech looked up from his datapad at the sharp sound of boots stopping beside his left shoulder, a heavy shadow covering the frame of Tech's body as he met the sneering gaze of a brown-haired man, wearing the uniform of the Imperial Security Bureau. The man was flanked by a young woman and a sour-faced young man, both of whom looked down their noses at Tech without saying a word.

"Why are we sharing the table with a clone, Alfred?" The man in the Imperial Security Bureau uniform snarled as he glared down at Tech, eyes blazing with hatred.

"He's my business partner, Clayton," Alfred, standing beside the man, said as he gestured to Tech and beamed, "he's the brilliant inventor I've talked about so often. Clayton, this is Tech, Tech, Clayton Vanderbilt."

The stranger, Clayton, turned an appraising eye on Tech, though his sneer remained as the man flicked his eyes over Tech. Then, with a loud snort, Clayton straightened and smirked at Tech, his eyes shifting to Alfred as the man let out a long laugh. "A clone? You are telling me a clone invented everything that Archer Industries has released? I highly doubt that.

"Clones are unintelligent brutes, and the Empire only keeps them around because they are useful meat shields for real humans. How could a clone," Clayton curled his nose at Tech as he spoke, as if a sudden foul odor had struck his olfactory senses, "be the one who created the Zillo Beast plastoid? Even our most advanced scientists were unable to replicate that monster's hide, let alone in a manner that was light enough for our military to wear. You are trying to tell me that this non-human is the reason our troops are so well protected? Impossible."

Years ago, long before the Empire had routed the Jedi threat from the galaxy, Tech would have flinched at the stinging comment, but now he did not care. He merely looked at the Imperial Security Bureau agent with a passive gaze, then turned back to his datapad. Emotions no longer had any control over Tech, none… except for the love he felt for his brothers. His brothers could compromise Tech, and he prayed that Clayton did not know of his close relationship with his brothers.

He heard Alfred argue on Tech's behalf, the two men disagreeing on the fundamentals of clones and Tech's skills, but it was an unimportant conversation and one Tech ignored. Boredom itched at Tech as the atrium thundered with noise, quieting only when the master of ceremonies hailed for quiet.

The same Imperials as every year were paraded to the podium, all lauding the Empire and their own supposed contribution to the continued protection of the galaxy. Tech promptly ignored it, for the speeches never changed and he couldn't be bothered to care about Imperial officers patting each other on the backs. If the speeches were mentally stimulating and invigorating, maybe Tech could pay attention to them, but the likelihood of an Imperial talking about anything but themselves was of the nth possibility.

Tech had almost dozed off when he felt a hand dig against his left shoulder, the unwarranted touch snapping Tech into a state of complete wariness. He turned his head to the left slightly, eyes narrowing minutely when he noticed Clayton leaning towards him with a mocking sneer and malice glittering in his green eyes.

Tech scowled at the agent and tried to remove the man's hand from his shoulder, only for Clayton's grip to become tighter and the man to lean so close to Tech that he could smell the man's lavender scented cologne. A surge of nervousness at the man's closeness made Tech swallow, his eyes widening behind his goggles as he tried to twist out of Clayton's grasp.

"Remove your hands from me, please," Tech growled, a hitch to his words that betrayed Tech's fear at being handled as the agent was doing.

Clayton laughed as he slowly let go of Tech's shoulder, all while a sneer grew ever more present on his face. "So, what's so damn special about this clone, Alfred? He doesn't look like any clone I've seen before, nor does he talk like one of your usual braindead clones."

"Clones are not braindead," the words hissed from Tech's mouth before he could stop them, a strange incongruity that he blamed on his migraine. He never argued with Imperials, let alone Imperial Security Bureau agents, and least of all on matters as hotly controversial as clones.

Most Imperials hated clones and looked down their noses at them, Tech and his brothers included, but Tech's uncontrolled response bothered him. And the glare that Clayton was sending him only bothered Tech further. He swallowed and stared a hole into the table before him as he tried to ignore the way Clayton was watching him, too closely for Tech's comfort.

"Every clone I've talked to thinks they are the greatest thing to grace this galaxy," the agent sneered, "which is an opinion they are all sorely mistaken on. I have had far more complaints about clone conduct than I ever have with real humans. Unfortunate how the Empire continues to employ your kind, clone."

"Leave him alone," Peter suddenly snarled, the sharp growl in his tone making even Tech jump at its unexpectedness, "Tech's been nothing short of polite with all of us the whole time we have known him. You don't have to be disrespectful to him just because you don't like that he's a clone."

"Clones are failures," the Imperial Security Bureau agent growled, his gaze snapping to Tech with a pointed leer, "and this one is allowed a position as important as Chief Science Officer of the Imperial Science Bureau? Disgraceful."

"He's from Clone Force 99," Johnny interjected quickly, though his words did nothing but to draw Clayton's sharp gaze back onto Tech. "He took down two Jedi traitors on his own, all to protect his squad and a legion of clone troopers on Mikkia."

Tech felt the agent's calculating gaze narrow on him before a cold, humorless laugh slipped from the man like oil. "Well, that's just ironic then, isn't it?"

Something in the man's words made Tech jerk his head in Clayton's direction, his eyes widening as Tech recognized amusement dancing in the agent's eyes. There was nothing amusing about the time Tech had spent fighting alongside his brothers in Clone Force 99, but Tech had a feeling the man was attempting to rile him.

"There is nothing ironic in any statement made thus far, unless you believe that Moff Garrison is being ironic in her statements about rebellion forces?"

Clayton rolled his eyes at Tech's statement, an exasperated, irritated sigh hissing from his lungs. "You don't have a clue, do you?"

A tiny flare of confusion, swallowed by an odd sense of irritation, slammed against Tech's chest as he met the agent's stare and shook his head. "I cannot have an idea what you are speaking about without proper context. Conciseness is a virtue I vastly appreciate."

The Imperial Security Bureau agent guffawed at Tech, his laugh mocking in its depth. "One of your impeccably made phosgene bombs went off early, killing most of the 654th Legion of the Imperial Navy. I'd say it's unfortunate, but clones led by a defect from Clone Force 99 are no loss to the Empire. What was his name? Tracker? Sniffer? Oh, no," Clayton's eyes blazed as he glared at Tech hatefully, "I remember now, his name was Hunter. He and his legion are all dead… and by your own invention."

Tech froze, his thoughts stopping completely as he attempted to register what the agent was implying. Hunter? His brother was dead? Impossible!

The Empire would have told him… correct?

Tech felt his fingers curl into fists as a hot surge of rage burned through his chest.

How odd.

He shouldn't be bothered by the Imperial agent's snide comment, least of all when he knew the man was saying such in all intent to irritate Tech, but the flaming in his chest was clear. Tech narrowed his eyes as he met the agent's gaze and, with as level of a tone as he could muster, Tech asked the man to repeat himself.

"You heard me. Hunter and his legion were marked as killed in action six months ago. From what intelligence gathered, one of the phosgene bombs he was carrying in his cruiser exploded early and killed every man on board. We saw evidence of some men on the planet's surface they had been patrolling, but no sign of Hunter. Odd… how he's not the first one of Clone Force 99 to vanish without a trace, isn't it?" The Imperial Security Bureau agent smirked as he spoke, the unsaid suggestion in his tone making Tech's anger blaze ever fiercer.

"If you are implying that my brothers would betray the Empire, then you are sorely mistaken," Tech growled as he felt his fingers dig into the palms of his hands.

His brothers were loyal to Tech, loyal to the Empire-

No… that wasn't entirely accurate.

Crosshair shoved past Tech, the hard plastoid of his armored shoulder driving into Tech's chest as Crosshair slammed past him. Tech staggered sideways, nearly tripping into the wall behind him at his brother's purposeful shove.

"Crosshair?" Tech questioned as he reached for his brother, only for Crosshair to jerk away from him and glower down at Tech with hate-filled eyes.

"Leave me alone, traitor," Crosshair spat as he turned away from Tech, his shoulders tense as Crosshair's squadron pushed by Tech. "I don't want to talk to you, not after everything you've done."

Tech blinked and reached for Crosshair one more time, though Crosshair was already walking away from Tech, his brother's back the last thing he saw of Crosshair.

Tech had long held suspicions about Crosshair's loyalty and, unwelcome enough as the thought was, he had wondered about whether Crosshair had turned on his squadron before his disappearance. Crosshair had exhibited rage and fury whenever he saw Tech, and their last encounter on Kamino had long bothered Tech. But, suspicions or not, Tech could not help but feel rage at Clayton's suggestion.

Hunter was loyal to the Empire and Tech, he would never kill his legion, least of all since Tech knew his brother was assigned to an all clone division. But… the Empire had not informed Tech of his brother's death?

Why?

What did the Empire gain from withholding the truth from Tech… especially when the Empire knew full well how much he cared for his brothers? Was it possible that the Empire did not trust Tech, or his brothers?

"I'd question your loyalty too," the sneering voice broke through Tech's thoughts, "if I were running the Empire. Two out of four of you that have vanished? What kind of trouble will your idiot friend Wrecker cause for the Empire? Or you?"

Tech was never sure what came over him, nor could he have stopped himself, as he whirled on the agent and slammed his fist into Clayton's face. He barely heard the shocked gasps from the Archers and Clayton's children, and only noticed the unsettling sense of satisfaction that made his chest warm and curled his lips into a cold sneer.

"I would advise against insulting my brothers to my face, agent," Tech warned, his sneer growing when he noticed a flash of surprise and shock blaze through the agent's eyes as Clayton attempted to scramble up from the ground.

Clayton scrambled to his feet, rubbing at his bloody nose as he glowered at Tech, hatred blazing in his eyes as the agent rose to his feet and towered over Tech. "How dare-"

Whatever else the Imperial Security Bureau agent said was drowned by a sudden blaze of fire that threw Tech to his knees, fingers digging against his scalp as pain unlike anything Tech had ever experienced before blackened his vision. Distantly, Tech heard voices shout and felt hands grab his shoulders, but he was unaware of anything but the feeling of his head being split open from within.


"The degradation of CT-33-7641's chip made it absolutely necessary that we remove it. That was the only option available to us to preserve the specimen, for the chip's instability was killing him. We are lucky that he was rushed back to Kamino as quickly as he could be taken. If he hadn't, we would have lost-"

The voice wavered in and out of Tech's consciousness, interspersed by strangely vivid memories and odd, mismatched thoughts. He saw his brothers, though only ever blurred, shapeless forms, and their voices never seemed right.

Too angry… bitter… distraught.

What had he done?


"Is he ever going to wake up?"

"If he does not, Omega, then that is further proof of his defectiveness, and nothing more."

No, no, no!

Agony tore through his head, tearing him asunder as pain drug him back into unconsciousness, but not before a trill of fear burst from his throat. The voices quieted as he sobbed and clawed at his bunk, calling for his brothers as his fever-wracked mind drowned him with regret and sorrow.


Tech awoke to blurry lines and shapes, and instinctively tried to reach for his goggles, only for his arms to refuse to even budge. Tech sighed as he turned his blurred gaze to the monitor resting on his right and the many leads that trailed from the device and under the blanket draped over his frame.

He was on Kamino…

Why?

He last remembered being on Coruscant for an Empire Day gala…

Hunter!

Tech tried to scramble up as his thoughts ran desperately back to the conversation he'd had with the Imperial agent. Hunter was gone? His older brother - his overprotective, caring brother - was dead. Killed by one of Tech's own inventions. The notion was impossible, it had to be!

No!

"Whoa, whoa, calm down! CT-33-7641, I need you to calm down!"

Gentle hands followed the soft voice that broke through Tech's desperate thoughts, centering him enough that his breathing eased. Tech heaved air through his lungs as he turned and narrowed his eyes at the blurry shape hovering over his right shoulder.

The shape moved, its hands reaching for Tech slowly and then he felt the familiar snugness of his goggles' band slip over his head. His vision returned as his goggles centered over his eyes, revealing a young, blonde woman hovering in front of him, her gaze worried as she looked over him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright," Tech answered immediately.

His head felt strangely empty of pain, and there was no stabbing pain in his temple where he was so used to it distracting him from his projects. A quick glance over his body showed no visible signs of injury and, judging from the steady beeping of the machine tracking his vitals, Tech was healthy. But that did not explain why he was in Kamino and strapped to so many leads.

The woman smiled as she straightened and backed away from Tech, giving him enough space to breathe and gather himself, then she pulled out a chair and pushed it as close to his bed as she could get. "Does your head hurt?"

Tech blinked, processing the question and the strage emptiness that felt hollow and unfamiliar in his head, then shook his head. "No."

"Excellent! That means-"

"What happened to me?" Tech interrupted the woman before she could continue, his gaze turning sharply towards the young woman as she swallowed noticeably and looked away from him.

"Your inhibitor chip malfunctioned and started to affect your cognitive brain function, so we were forced to remove it to ensure that the chip did not kill you," the woman explained as she checked Tech's vitals, an avoidance he assumed was her not wanting to look at him. "The enhancements we were ordered to apply to your inhibitor chip seems to have compromised the integrity of the chip, and from further studying of your removed chip, we have come to believe that it was compromised for the last year at least."

Tech narrowed his eyes as he processed what the woman was saying. A vague memory clawed at his head but he could not understand why he felt unsettled at the mention of his inhibitor chip. He hadn't even known of its existence-

No…

Tech pinched at the bridge of his nose as he fought off a wave of nausea, his thoughts scrambled and wholly uncertain of himself - he knew that there was something important about the inhibitor chips she mentioned, but his brain refused to cooperate with him. He felt wrong, though why he felt so unsettled and disturbed by his inability to remember why the inhibitor chips were so important made little sense.

Tech was supposed to be intelligent. Supposed to know everything before it affected him - almost killed him.

Oh, Force…

Tech had rarely ever faced the terrifying emptiness of lacking knowledge, least of all on something as important as an inhibitor chip inside his head. He was scared at the fact that he did not understand these inhibitor chips, and that something told him he should understand their importance. That he had once known of the chips and their purpose…

So why was his mind drawing such blanks? As if the inhibitor chips were brand new information, not unlike learning about a new planet, but they weren't. Tech knew they weren't, his instincts told him the chips were old knowledge, but his brain drew blanks - and Tech did not like that.

"CT-33-7641? What's wrong?" The woman's voice echoed distantly, though he felt her hands steady against his shoulders, the touch making him jump noticeably.

"Nothing is wrong," Tech deflected with a poor attempt at a smile, only for his heart to clench as he thought of his brothers.

All Tech had left was Wrecker. Crosshair had been reported missing seven years ago, and Hunter's legion had been destroyed six months ago. But for Wrecker, Tech was alone, and the idea of losing Wrecker made a pit of stark fear open up inside Tech.

If Tech's inhibitor chip had almost killed him, then could Wrecker's?

Tech's fingers clenched into fists, a deep pit of anger focusing his thoughts on one singular goal. He turned and glared at the young woman watching him, the intensity of his glare causing her to jump. "Do all clones have inhibitor chips?"

"Yes?" The woman said, her eyes wide as she stared down at Tech. "Why?"

Tech inhaled as he attempted to control the surge of worry that was at the edge of his tongue, then let out a low sigh. "If my inhibitor chip could malfunction, then the others could too, correct? If so, I am certain I could find a solution to stop any more inhibitor chips from failing, as mine did."

The woman's eyes flicked away from Tech, her jaw working nervously as she refused to look at Tech. The hunched set of her shoulders screamed of nervousness, and her constant evasion of Tech's gaze made it clear that she was very uncomfortable with Tech's question. He narrowed his eyes and repeated his prior statement and, with his tone edged with irritation, the young woman finally let out a tired sigh and relented.

Tech listened as she described the inhibitor chips and their function, every word she said logged into his extensive memory for later analysis, and his worry for Wrecker only grew further. He stiffened when she described how the Kaminoans had enhanced Tech's chip, though the woman refused to answer why the Kaminoans had found it necessary to enhance his chip, and flinched when the woman detailed each and every single one of Tech's chip enhancements.

Now the check-ups made sense, and so did the ensuing headaches. And it wasn't only Tech's chip that had been enhanced, but his brothers' chips also had been enhanced, though not as often as Tech's.

Only when Tech had exhausted every question he could think of about the inhibitor chips did he relent and allow the woman to breathe. She looked harried as her gaze turned away from Tech and she rubbed at her arm nervously when, with a curiosity that Tech had not allowed himself to voice, he turned to her and tilted his head.

"Why did the Kaminoans enhance my inhibitor chip so often? What did I do?"

"I… I am not allowed to answer that," the woman hissed as she suddenly stood up and backed away from Tech, her posture rigid with fear. "I apologize, CT-33-7641, but I must go."

The woman turned on her heels and hurried for the door, only to stop when Tech cleared his throat and called for her. She turned to face him, expression flustered, as Tech narrowed his eyes and, quietly, said, "My name is Tech, not CT-33-7641."

"I apologize," the young woman immediately stammered, "your files say that your name was-"

"What is your name?" Tech interjected before he had to hear his serial number again. An irrational side of him that still existed continued to tense whenever he heard his serial number, and he could not remember why he hated his number so much but he knew that the burning in his chest was hatred. Pure, unbridled hatred for some memory he could not access, and all centered around his serial number.

"My name's Omega," the woman said, the briefest hint of a smile tugging at her mouth before Omega turned and hurried out of the room.

Tech watched Omega leave then, with a sudden wave of exhaustion that made his limbs feel like they were made of lead, Tech laid down and stared at the ceiling of the small medical bay. He knew he had to remove Wrecker's inhibitor chip before he lost his only surviving brother, but Tech also knew that the task would not be easy.

Wrecker was part of the Imperial Army and constantly on duty, traveling the galaxy to defend the Empire and put a stop to insurrections. Tech would have to find some way to remove Wrecker's chip without the Empire or the Kaminoans gaining wind of what he was doing, for some strange, dark worry told Tech that removing Wrecker's chip would not be seen as an approved action by the Empire.

But Tech did not care about what the Empire thought, not when his brother was in very possible danger. Tech would save Wrecker from his inhibitor chip, and then his brother would be safe.

All Tech wanted were his brothers to be safe. Their safety was all he thought of when the Empire suggested new weapons or upgrades, and it was his brothers that pushed Tech to make every invention better than the last.

Crosshair and Hunter were gone, but Tech refused to let Wrecker go. His oldest brother would be saved by him again, and it would be one more attempt at protecting his family.

Anything for his family.


Tech surfed through the files he'd downloaded from Kamino - the entire mainframe of data was his to peruse at his leisure - eyes flicking over each line of text and data that he ran through. He could hear his lab technicians working, busy with their latest project the Imperial Science Bureau had concocted, but he was not interested in the usual hustle and bustle of his lab.

He had been released from Kamino a week ago after two weeks of bedrest, and he was glad to be able to be up and free to plan. He'd done his own private research on the inhibitor chips in his free time on Kamino, and was never more certain he had to remove the chip from his oldest brother. Wrecker's legion had been on constant rotation for two years, but Tech knew that Wrecker was going to be near the Deep Core soon - and that would be when Tech would make his move.

"Sir?" The rough voice of one of Tech's lab technicians interrupted Tech, drawing his gaze up from his datapad and to a young Theelin botanist, who was shaking nervously as he peeked into Tech's office.

"Yes, Rellik?" Tech sighed, an edge to his tone that made the young botanist flinch.

"The Imperial Security Bureau finally gave us a test subject for the limp regenerating serum we have been perfecting," Rellik explained quickly, "do you wish to conduct the trial run?"

"No," Tech replied immediately - he thought he heard Rellik suck in a surprised breath of air at his response -, then turned back to his datapad. "I have pressing matters I must attend to. Koyi shall be the lead on this test, and she will run the lab until I return."

Rellik stammered intelligibly then, with a hurried "yes, sir", swept out of Tech's office.

Tech shook his head and snorted out a bemused chuckle, only for a small beep from his datapad to snap his focus fully onto what was before him. A notification glowed at the right hand corner of the screen, reporting the return of Wrecker's division into the Deep Core.

Excellent.

Tech tapped out a quick message to Wrecker - an invitation to join Tech at a small diner on Coruscant -, then turned and left his office. He ignored the confused stares of his technicians as Tech left the lab, pace determined as he headed towards the Havoc Marauder.

He had the medical droids ready and preprogrammed for the inhibitor chip removal surgery, and Tech had cleaned the shuttle thoroughly. He did not trust anyone near his brother, nor did he trust any Imperial aligned doctor with a surgery that, from his research, was frankly illegal.

This had to be done in secret, and as quickly as Tech could possibly manage to remove Wrecker's inhibitor chip. He'd drawn out the plan to get Wrecker into the Havoc Marauder, to lure his brother in unawares, but there was a part of Tech that did not like his plan.

Tech normally hated lying to his brothers, and he hated that he could not be open with Wrecker, but this was one time where Tech knew he had no other option. He had to keep his intentions secret from Wrecker, for his brother's safety.

A sharp note from his datapad made Tech look down from the controls of the Havoc Marauder, to where a message from Wrecker was waiting to be read. Tech hesitated briefly as he hovered his index finger over the message then, slowly, opened it.

He read over Wrecker's response - his brother had agreed! He'd agreed! - and felt the corners of his mouth twist into a smile. Tech responded quickly, offering to pick Wrecker up from Coruscant's dockyards, then tapped the coordinates for Coruscant into the navicomputer.

Wrecker agreeing to meet Tech was the first step in his plan, now Tech just had to tread carefully so that Wrecker did not become suspicious of Tech's intent. Maybe Wrecker would be just as relieved to see Tech, and he could get the drop on his brother then and there.

Tech ground his teeth together, unaware of how much the nervous action made his jaw hurt, and let his thoughts run through his plan to remove Wrecker's chip over and over. He had to get everything right, everything, and Tech was not unaware of the strange feeling of worry that was clawing at his insides.

The Havoc Marauder tore towards Coruscant, but there was no sense of excitement or relief within Tech's chest as he piloted the shuttle towards his meeting with Wrecker.


Tech paced in front of the Havoc Marauder's ramp, fingers digging against the pants of his dress suit as he waited for Wrecker.

He had arrived on Coruscant in record time, so desperate was Tech to have this plan go right. He knew that Wrecker's legion should be arriving at the massive dockyards within thirty minutes, but Tech did not like standing around and waiting for Wrecker. Not when Tech had plans that the Empire would very deeply disapprove of, and that he had come to Coruscant to commit an act of treason against the Empire.

If the Empire discovered Tech's reasoning for meeting with Wrecker, he knew-

Tech knew that both Wrecker and Tech himself would be executed if the Empire found out what Tech was doing, and some suspicious part of Tech kept staring at every Imperial that passed by him. He was so busy pacing that Tech had missed more than a number of salutes sent his way, though none of the Imperial soldiers who saluted him dared to ask Tech why he hadn't responded to their salutes.

Sometimes having a formidably high rank in the Empire had its uses, Tech realized with a strange sense of bemused wonderment as two more Imperials noticed him and immediately hurried away from his position. His impatience and worry continued to make Tech pace, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a Star Destroyer descending towards the dockyards.

Tech stiffened, stopping by the ramp of the Havoc Marauder, as he watched the Star Destroyer that Wrecker's division was assigned to, dock and heard its engine power down. His leg started to bounce as Tech watched the soldiers from the destroyer hurry down the ramp, though none of them were Wrecker, yet-

Then he spotted his brother, the way he dwarfed all of the Imperial soldiers with his hulking frame was unmistakable, and the warm feeling that overtook all of Tech's ability to think was obvious. He was relieved to see Wrecker, who was hurrying towards him with a pronounced wave and his helmet under one arm, and even Tech could not help himself but to smile and wave back in turn.

"Hey there, Tech!" Wrecker chuckled as he slowed to a stop in front of Tech and smirked down at him. "Bored at that snooze fest of a lab?"

Tech blinked, confused by Wrecker's consideration of Tech's lab as "boring", and shook his head promptly. "The pursuit of science and knowledge could never bore me, Wrecker. I merely desired a break, and wished to see you since you were coming to Coruscant anyways."

Wrecker tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing by mere fractions as he stared down at Tech for a long, unnerving minute. Tech stiffened and braced himself, unsure of what was running through Wrecker's thoughts, and waited.

Finally, Wrecker shrugged and yawned, though not before Tech noticed an angry set to his brother's jaw. Tech watched Wrecker closely, unaware of the way he adjusted his goggles nervously and let his right leg bounce in place as Wrecker headed up the ramp into the Havoc Marauder.

Tech followed behind his brother slowly, hands hovering over his utility belt and the holsters of his DC-17s, then drew them silently. The ramp closed behind Tech, the hiss of hydraulics overly loud as Tech's thoughts ran with worry and betrayal.

Shooting his brother was the only logical way to get Tech's brother to comply, but Tech did not like the uncomfortable feeling that filled his lungs and tightened his chest when he thought of having to shoot his brother. The conflict unnerved him because he had planned for this, but he was hesitating - and he could not afford to.

Wrecker was unaware as he roughhoused with Gonky, the power droid's excited outbursts drowning out the sound of Tech shifting his blasters to stun. Tech hated this part of his plan, but there was no other option - not with Wrecker's past history of dislike for surgeries or even small check ups.

"I apologize forthright for this, Wrecker," Tech hissed out, the sound of his voice making Wrecker turn around slowly, then fired.

Wrecker had no time to react, and Tech's aim was perfect, the upgraded stun blasts dropping Wrecker to the floor of the Havoc Marauder with a heavy thud. Tech did not lower his blasters until he was fully certain that Wrecker was unconscious, then bent down, wrapped his arms under and around Wrecker's chest and laboriously pulled his heavy brother to the medical bay on the Marauder.

Tech had worked on the shuttle extensively, upgrading the shields and energy output, as well as adding a cloaking device to the Havoc Marauder, and had expanded the tiny, makeshift medical bay for emergencies. He'd never had to use the expanded medical bay until now, but Tech had prepared the medical bay thoroughly for emergencies.

Gonky followed Tech as he shoved Wrecker's limbs one by one onto the operating table, the power droid shuffling under Wrecker's hips as Tech used his back to shove Wrecker onto the table. When Tech had finally situated his brother onto the operating table, Tech had to pause and catch his breath as beads of sweat rolled down his back.

He'd forgotten how heavy Wrecker was, and had not planned accordingly for such. Clearly, Tech was not as careful a planner as he believed he was.

Gonky bumped Tech's leg as Tech finally was able to breathe, hands tightening into fists before he turned and hurried to the two medical droids he'd stolen. The droids worked to remove Wrecker's chip efficiently, while Tech aided in whatever way he could, all while a deep feeling of worry for Wrecker clawed at his chest.

Tech paced restlessly as he watched the droids work, unaware of how Gonky followed his every step dutifully, and the minutes dragged on ceaselessly. Tech stopped pacing and stood in a corner of the medical bay, right leg bouncing erratically, and it was only that stillness that allowed Tech to hear a quiet ping hiss from Wrecker's wrist cuff.

Curiosity piqued Tech's interest, drawing his overpowering worry into sharp focus as he approached his brother. Tech moved slowly as he took Wrecker's right arm in his hand and tapped at the wrist cuff, raising the volume enough to hear a static-laced distress call - one that was old and oddly familiar - ring through the medical bay.

Tech listened as the distress signal repeated once more - a string of words that would make no sense to anyone who wasn't in the Bad Batch - and tensed. The message was a string of random words and phrases that hid coordinates to a planet in the Expansion Region, one he knew was completely devoid of sentient life or habitation.

Why was someone sending Wrecker coordinates through the old frequencies Clone Force 99 had used? And how had they gotten their hands on the secret way the Batch had always messaged each other when split up?

Tech hesitated for a moment then tapped a response, making certain to word it exactly as Wrecker would, then waited to see if a response would follow. There was nothing for a few minutes then, with a quiet trill, Wrecker's comms pinged with the end message.

"Head to where the acklays rest and the squids nest."

Tech narrowed his eyes at Wrecker's wrist comm, then gently lowered his brother's arm over his chest. It was the correct response to the specific coordinates the first message referred to, though there was no possible way anyone but a member of the Bad Batch knew about the coded message - Tech himself had invented the code phrases, though he'd needed Hunter's encouragement to make it the Batch's official way of messaging each other when they did not wish to be found out.

Someone had his data, and was contacting Wrecker for reasons unknown. Tech did not like the idea that anyone could have found out about the secret messages he and his brothers had used during the Clone Wars, and he knew what he had to do.

"Inform me upon the completion of his procedure," Tech ordered the medical droids as he swept out of the medical bay and hurried to the cockpit.

Something about the distress call made Tech's skin crawl, though not with wariness, and he had to know who had found the frequencies and secret messages his former unit had used. He shot a glance back towards the medical bay, then activated the Havoc Marauder's engines.

Whoever was waiting for Wrecker on Vendaxa knew enough about Tech's brothers to use their secret messages to contact him, and that made Tech curious and worried. But his curiosity had always won over Tech, even when he was a cadet, and it was that curiosity that led him to Vendaxa.


Tech woke to the steady beeping of the Havoc Marauder announcing their arrival to Vendaxa and jolted up from where he'd fallen asleep on Wrecker. Wrecker continued to snore under anesthetics, the removal of his inhibitor chip having gone smoothly - to Tech's relief.

He gave a reassuring pat to Wrecker's shoulder then headed to the cockpit. Vendaxa was closing in quickly as the Havoc Marauder navigated on autopilot to the location the message had given Tech, though he did not allow the shuttle to land itself on the planet's surface.

When the Havoc Marauder touched down in a grassy meadow between a thickly laid forest of evergreen trees, Tech paused, hesitating as he peered out of the viewport. He could not see a ship anywhere nearby, nor did his shuttle's scanners pick up on any energy signatures, and that made Tech search around the forest with narrowed eyes.

Only when he was certain that no one was waiting in ambush did Tech approach the ramp to the Havoc Marauder, though he hesitated briefly as he looked towards the medical bay. He had argued with himself thoroughly on the long hyperspace journey to Vendaxa about the purpose behind someone contacting Wrecker through Clone Force 99's frequencies, but had decided it was best he understood the purpose by finding the person who had contacted Wrecker.

Tech stepped down the Havoc Marauder's ramp, eyes narrowed behind his goggles as he peered around the bristling forest that stretched beyond his vision. This was the planet that the old locater message had led to, but he did not see-

Heat roared past his shoulder, forcing Tech to stumble backwards and trip over the Havoc Marauder's ramp, moments before the sharp snap of a blaster bolt being fired broke the silence of the air. Tech scrambled behind the ramp and pulled his blasters from their holsters, eyes wide as he tried to process what had happened.

Had someone used the old Bad Batch frequency to lure Wrecker out here to kill him?

The idea that someone had hacked into the old Bad Batch frequencies to hurt one of his brothers made Tech burn with fury, and it did not take him long to prepare for a fight. If this sniper wanted to hurt Wrecker, then they would have to get past Tech to reach his oldest brother - Wrecker was his only remaining brother, and Tech would do anything humanly possible to keep him alive.

Tech slowly poked his head out around the shuttle's ramp, only to scramble backwards blindly as another bolt struck the ramp and shook the Havoc Marauder where she stood. He hadn't worn his armor - he hadn't believed it necessary - but his armor, updated and strong, but not something he'd worn in years, was inside the shuttle.

He needed to get into the shuttle to get an advantage on the sniper, for he was pinned down and without any capability of finding where the sniper's shots were coming from. Tech dug into the pockets of his utility belt, which he wore even when wearing his formal dress suit, and removed a flash bang from one of them.

Judging from the previous shot, the sniper was peering down his rifle's scope and watching Tech intently. If he fired the flash bang as he moved out from behind the ramp, he would blind the sniper long enough to climb to safety on the Havoc Marauder. Tech only had to time his next move correctly, and then he'd be able to protect Wrecker from the unseen threat.

Tech inched towards the edge of the ramp, the flash bang held loosely in his left hand, then jerked to throw the flash bang past the Havoc Marauder. He had not even loosened his hold on the flash bang when Tech felt a blaster bolt slam into the flash bang, obliterating the small device as shards of metal sprayed against Tech's shoulder.

"I know your tricks, traitor!"

The familiar ice and venomous fury of Crosshair's voice made Tech jolt, eyes widening behind his goggles as his heart slammed against his ribs.

Crosshair was alive!

Tech had always harbored suspicions about Crosshair's disappearance, but he'd never imagined - or accepted - that his brother was still alive.

Which meant that Crosshair had contacted Wrecker… and that Crosshair had been the one who had killed his entire Elite Squadron. Tech tensed behind the ramp, uncertain of his next move as he realized that Crosshair had been shooting to kill Tech, but had missed the first round.

Crosshair never missed… and he never shot at his own brothers.

"You were the one who responded?" Crosshair snapped, his voice echoing through the trees with such fury that Tech flinched.

Odd.

He shouldn't be afraid of Crosshair, not when Crosshair was his brother, but Tech was. His fear was unfounded and unsubstantiated, but it was real nonetheless.

Distantly, Tech heard the sound of Crosshair leaping down from a tree, though he did not dare to move - not when his brother had attempted to kill him twice already. So, with his nerves suddenly awakened and his emotions in deep flux, Tech waited until he heard Crosshair stop beside the Havoc Marauder's ramp.

Tech fought the desperate desire to see Crosshair - he knew if he rushed Crosshair, his brother would inevitably shoot him on the spot -, and slowly stepped out from his cover. But he had only taken a step out when Crosshair's rough hand grabbed Tech by his collar and threw him against the Havoc Marauder.

Anger blazed in Crosshair's eyes as his brother leaned against Tech and snarled, his teeth bared angrily. Tech blinked at his brother's predatory advance, confused by his brother's sheer levels of aggression, and attempted to ease Crosshair's anger with a nervous smile.

His attempt only seemed to annoy Crosshair further, who tightened his grip on Tech's collar as he leaned directly into Tech and spat at him. "Where's Wrecker?"

Tech stared at Crosshair, a tremor of surprise stiffening his spine at the fury that blazed in his brother's eyes. It was even more intense than the fury he'd seen that day on Kamino, before Crosshair had been declared killed in action by the Empire, and Tech did not know what to make of the fact that it seemed that Tech was the source of such rage.

"Answer me, traitor," Crosshair snarled, his voice practically dripping with venom as he stared Tech in the eye.

A nervous swallow shuttered through Tech before he jerked his head towards the Marauder, and answered Crosshair weakly. Crosshair's head tilted towards the Havoc Marauder slightly, though his gaze never once left Tech, then that furious glare turned full force onto Tech once more.

"Why do you have Wrecker on your ship?" Crosshair hissed, the lowering of his tone far more dangerous than the raging roar he'd been speaking in moments before.

"I was in the middle of removing his inhibitor chip when I heard the distress call you sent out on Clone Force 99's frequency," Tech explained as calmly as he could, though there was an uncomfortable surge of anxiety brewing within his chest as Crosshair continued to glare at him. "I responded to your signal, as I was uncertain why anyone would be using the old frequencies and messages of our squad."

Crosshair snorted and then suddenly stepped back from Tech, his expression suddenly one of disgust as Crosshair's gaze shifted to the blasters in Tech's hands and scoffed. "That message was never meant for you. I don't care about you, nor did I ever want to see you again, CT-33-7641."

The sound of Tech's serial number snapping from Crosshair's mouth made Tech flinch, and there was nothing he could say in retort as Tech's brother glared down at him. Then, almost imperceptibly, Tech noticed Crosshair flinch, the widening of his eyes subtle before they narrowed into hard flint.

"You removed his inhibitor chip?"

Crosshair's question would have seemed harmless, had Tech not seen the way the sniper's fingers twitched towards the blaster strapped to his hip, and the cold ice in Crosshair's eyes made Tech back into the Havoc Marauder carefully.

"You are correct," Tech said slowly, cautiously even, as Crosshair's expression turned ever more furious.

Tech tilted his head owlishly as a muscle throbbed in Crosshair's jaw then, before Tech could even register what was happening, Crosshair's hand snapped to his throat and shoved Tech's back against the Marauder's nose.

"You knew about the chips the whole time, didn't you?" There was a strange hitch to Crosshair's voice as he spoke, one that did not seem to fit with the rage that was coming unbridled from his shoulders and eyes.

"I did not know of the inhibitor chips until a few weeks ago," Tech choked out as Crosshair's grip tightened on his throat, making Tech's eyes water behind his goggles. Tech clawed at Crosshair's arm weakly, but he had little heart in him to fight his brother, so he let his hand slip from Crosshair's arm and looked over Crosshair slowly.

This was not his Crosshair, not the Crosshair he'd grown up with by any meaning of the word, Tech realized. The old Crosshair would never have raised a hand against his brothers, and least of all against Tech. Clearly, something had made his brother change, and had evidently made Crosshair's feelings for Tech manifest into hatred.

He had seen the evidence on Kamino seven years ago, but Tech was not certain on the basis for Crosshair's anger. Had Tech done something-

"How am I supposed to believe you?" Crosshair interrupted Tech's thoughts mid-sentence, the sudden loosening of the sniper's grip on Tech's throat noticeable as Crosshair dropped Tech to the ground. "You turned your back on us! Betrayed us! I can't believe anything you say, you traitor!"

Tech rubbed at his throat and watched as Crosshair paced in front of him agitatedly, too hesitant to interrupt Crosshair as his brother continued to rant. He listened as Crosshair continued to snarl and rage about Tech's apparent betrayal, though where and when Tech had betrayed his brothers, he did not know.

Crosshair stiffened, his head shifting towards Tech with a decidedly venomous glare. "You betrayed us when you made us slaves to the Empire, Tech!"

Ah… so Tech had spoken his thoughts out loud. How… unbecoming of him.

"You took away my freedom!" Crosshair snarled, his pitch a low tremor that reminded Tech of the earthquakes on Malastare he'd studied five years ago. "You watched as the Kaminoans strapped me down to an examination table and tortured me! I thought you understood what that was like - I fought for you when the Kaminoans used you against me - but clearly you don't."

Crosshair stopped pacing and glowered at Tech, the hatred and agony in his eyes burning Tech's skin as his brother paced up to him and glared into his eyes. "I hate you, Tech."

Tech froze at his brother's low snarl and, for a brief, fleeting second, Tech thought he felt his chest constrict painfully at Crosshair's poisonous words. He could hardly remember the short time when Crosshair had actually hated Tech on Kamino, in the first few weeks that Tech had joined Experimental Unit 99, but this hatred seemed much more potent than anything Tech had ever seen from his brother.

It was enough to make Tech adjust his goggles and clear his sore throat, a sound that made Crosshair's gaze shift towards Tech slowly. "I do not understand how you consider leaving me behind on Kamino, and my stopping you from leaving, as taking away your freedom. Your hatred towards me comes without any basis-"

"To you, it doesn't," Crosshair interjected furiously, the fingers of his right hand twitching ever closer to the stock of the blaster holstered on his hip. "When you captured us, traitor, you took away every single one of your brothers' freedom of choice. You choose our fates for us, just as the Kaminoans and the Republic had - you are no better than any of them."

Crosshair's words slammed into Tech, staggering him backwards at his brother's accusation. Tech felt his cheeks flame with a mix of anger and embarrassment as he stiffened and clenched his hands into fists, eyes narrowed as he glared at Crosshair.

"How dare you implicate that I am anything like the Kaminoans! I am nothing like them - nothing!" Tech snarled back, the heat in his chest shocking him thoroughly. He knew what the burning, blinding feeling overtaking his thoughts and pitching his voice unevenly meant - he was furious, and very deeply so.

Crosshair had long known of Tech's insecurities when he was a cadet - Tech was certain those insecurities did not exist any longer behind his inhibitor chip enhancements -, about his intelligence and the many times he had been referred to as a droid by bitter regs and his sneering handler. Tech's brother was picking right where he knew Tech was weakest, and Tech hated that about Crosshair.

"If you are nothing like them," Crosshair's voice hissed in front of Tech, making him jump at its closeness, "then you wouldn't have betrayed your brothers. Do you like working for the Empire? Or maybe you get a thrill out of each innocent world your inventions destroy. That's what Sullo Pria would have wanted from you, wouldn't she? A heartless, emotionless monster?"

Horror and revulsion and layers and layers of hurt clawed at Tech's throat, tearing away any retort he could make as he lowered his head and felt his shoulders slump miserably. How could Crosshair ever compare Tech to his former handler, when the sniper knew full well what she had done to Tech? Tech didn't even know what he could say in retort, least of all when he was not fully informed on that which Crosshair had made reference to.

Tech finalized a multitude of inventions for the Empire - that was his job, simple as that, and he always aimed to please - but he'd never asked what they were used for. All Tech ever knew was that every single invention and weapon his lab processed was one more way he protected his brothers, and the galaxy.

So why was Crosshair insinuating that Tech was a monster… that he was the exact thing his handler had always wanted to make Tech?

"You don't even have a clue, do you?" Crosshair scoffed, "How pathetic. You are either woefully ignorant or too arrogant to see what you've done for the Empire, Tech."

"I am not ignorant!" Tech refuted quickly, "I know that I am helping protect my brothers from danger, and that-"

Crosshair's hand snapped to Tech's collar, jerking him forward with a snarl as the silver-haired clone bared his teeth in a snarl to Tech. "Maybe you should study up on Mikkia, then you might understand. And where's Echo, Tech? Or have you forgotten him too?"

Tech blinked at Crosshair's question, utterly confused by Crosshair referring to the echo reverberating around the Havoc Marauder as a he. Unperturbed, or at least as much as he could be, Tech tilted his head and stared at Crosshair.

"Why are you discussing echoes as if they are masculine? Echoes are produced by the reflection of sound waves off surfaces, not anything that can be defined by-"

"You really don't remember Echo?" Crosshair didn't sound mad this time, and the wary shift of his eyes on Tech read with a hurt that did not fit his stern countenance.

Tech narrowed his eyes and stared at Crosshair, attempting to gauge if Crosshair was mocking him, but read only quiet, truthful sorrow in the sniper's gaze. By all indications, Tech was missing the contextual clues - or possibly memories - of someone that Crosshair seemed to think Tech should care about.

How… strange.

"I do not recall anyone named Echo," Tech finally admitted, his eyes narrowed fractionally as Crosshair shook his head, snorted and turned away from Tech with a disgusted snarl.

"Of course you wouldn't. Maybe you should take some of your precious time as a loyal pet to the Empire and research him, it might-"

"Crosshair!"

An authoritative shout cut Crosshair off mid-sentence, and made Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles as he recognized the timbre of Hunter. Crosshair shot Tech a glare that rooted him in place before he shouted back to Hunter, short moments passing before Hunter's broad frame appeared beside the ramp.

Hunter's eyes widened as he noticed Tech, a muddled flash of surprise and affection warming his gaze briefly before Hunter turned towards Crosshair. Tech watched as Hunter communicated something quickly with Crosshair, using the old sign language his brothers had devised over the years in Kamino and during the Clone Wars, then he looked towards Tech briefly.

Crosshair crossed his arms over his chest as Hunter turned and hurried up the ramp into the Havoc Marauder's hold, then shot Tech a poisonous look. "I'll let you live this time, Tech, but if I ever see you again I won't miss my target."

With that threat, Crosshair turned his back on Tech and hurried up the ramp, leaving Tech to finally process what had happened.

Crosshair and Hunter were alive. The brothers he had believed deceased were alive and… free of the Empire? Why had they not told Tech they were alive? And why did Crosshair's eyes burn with such hatred when he'd spoken to Tech about his inventions, and whoever Echo was?

Too many unanswered and unwarranted questions started to claw at Tech, until he heard his brothers coming down the ramp with heaving gasps. Tech peeked out from where he'd been frozen in place by the Havoc Marauder's nose and watched as Crosshair and Hunter shouldered Wrecker away from Tech's shuttle.

"Where are you taking Wrecker?" Tech asked as he hesitantly followed his brothers, a feeling of lost confusion sharp in his movements as he hurried up to Crosshair and reached for his arm.

Crosshair jerked away from Tech with a nexu-like snarl, only for Hunter to silence Crosshair with a raised hand. Hunter shifted Wrecker's sleeping form against him as he looked back towards Tech slowly. "We are taking him somewhere that is safe from the Empire. We planned to lure him out here in hopes that we could remove his inhibitor chip… this was the first time he ever responded to our messages, though I guess it would be accurate in stating that you answered us, Tech."

Tech stared at his brothers, though he avoiding looking at Crosshair's hate-filled expression for long as he tilted his head and, too curious to stay silent, finally asked what had been bugging him since he'd heard Crosshair's voice shouting at him from the trees.

"How did you survive? The Empire reported both of you as killed in action, though they never found your bodies…"

Hunter shot Crosshair a wary glance before his mouth twisted and he let out a hesitant note of exhaustion. "Crosshair broke out of his chip because of his hatred for you, Tech. When he was able to fight it long enough, he turned on his squad and killed every last one of them. He hunted me down for years after, always leaving me messages and hints to a planet that I ignored until I became too curious a few months ago. He freed me with some help and we've been trying to rescue Wrecker ever since."

But not you, Tech.

The unstated conclusion made a part of Tech flinch, though it seemed a logical conclusion if Crosshair hated him as much as he did. Crosshair blamed Tech for capturing him, and had seemingly broken away from the Empire from his hatred alone. Of course Crosshair would not wish to rescue Tech, though he was still not certain what was so wrong about the Empire.

Crosshair had urged Tech to research his inventions and someone named Echo, plainly someone that mattered to Crosshair, and Tech knew that whatever questions he had would have to be answered without Crosshair or Hunter's help.

His brothers were not loyal to the Empire, Tech slowly started to realize as Hunter and Crosshair continued to carry Wrecker further from the Havoc Marauder, and that could only mean that they were enemies to the Empire. That the Empire was a threat to his brothers...

"Take the Marauder," the idea burst from Tech's mouth without thinking, nor without a hint of hesitation. The suddenness of the idea surprised even Tech, and he couldn't help but blink as his brothers turned and stared at him with bewildered expressions.

Crosshair and Hunter shot each other curious looks as they supported the still unconscious Wrecker, then Hunter tilted his head and narrowed his eyes towards Tech. "What do you mean?"

"In my free time, I tuned the Havoc Marauder extensively for better shielding and armament," Tech explained hurriedly, before Crosshair could deny him. "The shuttle has every single Imperial code filed into its mainframe, and I have it registered under my name. You would be able to slip through blockades without worrying about the Empire becoming suspicious of your approach or departure."

Hunter shot Tech a look he could not decipher, then shifted his gaze towards the Havoc Marauder behind Tech. "That is your ship, Tech, not ours. Are you certain you want us to take her?"

"Of course I am certain," Tech stated matter of factly. "The Havoc Marauder will protect you, and will serve you far better than it will me, resting in the hangar at my lab. I will take whatever source of transport brought you to Vendaxa in exchange."

Tech watched as Hunter's gaze shifted down to him slowly, his mouth turned down into a frown but no other emotion readable on his older brother's face. Crosshair sneered at Tech, his hatred for Tech so plain in the furrowing of his brows and his bared teeth, but he did not say anything as Hunter continued to look at Tech.

Hunter finally inhaled and nodded, though Tech thought he saw pain in the way Hunter failed to smile as he shifted away from Wrecker - Crosshair grunted and almost fell under Wrecker's dead weight - and approached Tech. Tech stiffened, uncertain what his brother would do, and flinched when he saw Hunter raise his hand slowly towards him.

"Promise me you'll stay safe, alright, Tech?" Hunter said as he placed his hand on Tech's shoulder, the pain in his eyes a piercing needle that stabbed through Tech's heart.

He loved Hunter and had always relied on him when Tech was a cadet, his older brother's warmth and fierce protectiveness a source of comfort Tech had always needed. But this Hunter didn't seem the same, not in his eyes - darkened with sorrow and such agonized, dark pain -, or in the dullness of his once husky voice. Tech did not like the implications that he understood to be implied here, not when he looked at Hunter and didn't see his Hunter, but one that had been broken by years of servitude and slavery.

Crosshair was correct in stating that Tech had betrayed his brothers, and had enslaved them just as much as the Empire had, for that was the function of the inhibitor chips. Tech had read enough on the biological implant to understand that the inhibitor chips had been used to force obedience from all clones - to strip away their independence and ability to think for themselves - and that was what Tech had done to Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker.

Crosshair, who was always so defiant and fierce, yet stayed beside his brothers because of his overpowering sense of love and desire to protect his family. Crosshair had never wanted to fight for the Republic or the Jedi, all of whom he had seen as implicit in the torture he and his brothers had been put through on Kamino, and Tech had forced Crosshair to fight for the Empire. He had given Crosshair no choice, and had stripped every part of Crosshair away besides his rage.

Hunter and Wrecker had their freedom stripped from them by Tech, and they had suffered mindlessly under the Empire for fourteen years. How much of his brothers had been changed because of their inhibitor chips?

Tech's inhibitor chip had inhibited his emotions, made them an afterthought in his mind and had led him to follow the Empire willingly. If the inhibitor chip could change Tech, what had it done to Hunter and Wrecker after fourteen years?

The thought was unnerving and unsettling and, with a sigh, Tech nodded towards Hunter - though Tech himself knew he could not keep his promise. "There is little cause for concern, Hunter. I can handle myself, should any untoward situations arise. I will be safe."

Hunter's eyes flickered with sadness as Tech handed his brother the control pad to the Havoc Marauder, his fingers brushing against Tech's wordlessly - though Tech knew what Hunter had signed against the back of his hand.

I love you.

Tech looked away from Hunter as his sergeant hurried back to Crosshair and, effortfully, helped carry Wrecker back into the Havoc Marauder. Crosshair did not look back as he vanished into the depths of their Omicron-class attack shuttle, though Hunter paused and looked back at Tech one last time, the sadness in his eyes readable even as Tech lowered his head and stared at the ground miserably.


Hunter rested his hand against Wrecker's throat, feeling for his brother's steady heartbeat, then let out a tired sigh. He had not expected to see Tech, of all people, respond to the ancient code the Bad Batch had used during the Clone Wars, least of all when Crosshair had purposefully ignored ever sending Tech the same message as he had Hunter and Wrecker.

Conflict waged a war inside Hunter as he checked Wrecker's pulse once more then, with a comforting pat on Wrecker's shoulder, Hunter headed towards the Havoc Marauder's cockpit.

Hyperspace flashed past the viewport as Crosshair piloted the shuttle, his grip on the yoke looking wholly uncomfortable and tight as he kept the shuttle steady. Hunter slid down into the co-pilot's seat then turned slightly to face Crosshair, only for his brother to turn away and scowl at his look.

"Wrecker's recovering from his anesthesia, but it shouldn't take him too long to wake up, Cross," Hunter finally said. He knew exactly why Crosshair was so angry, but didn't dare tread on that subject unless Crosshair broached it himself.

For a few minutes, Hunter was convinced that Crosshair would remain completely silent, until Crosshair finally let go of the yoke and glared at Hunter.

"Are you certain that traitor removed Wrecker's chip? Tech could have lied to us to trick us into-"

"He wasn't lying, Crosshair," Hunter snapped.

He understood Crosshair's distrust for Tech completely - had even had to calm Crosshair down from one of his many nightmares based around the betrayal of their brother -, but Hunter had always been able to tell when Tech was lying. Tech did not carry the same anxious scent of worry with him anymore, but his heartbeat had remained steady when he'd spoken about Wrecker and the Havoc Marauder. He had been truthful in everything he'd said, even as much as Crosshair wished Tech was lying.

Crosshair glared out the viewport, teeth grinding together before he shot Hunter a sharp look of frustration. "How could you stand talking to him? He turned on us, Hunter, and used us."

"Because of the inhibitor chip, Cross, we've been through this a hundred times," Hunter reiterated, a tired sigh escaping from his mouth as Crosshair broached the long familiar topic of Tech's betrayal of their team, "he was clearly under the control of the inhibitor chip, just as we all were. You know full well he'd never have turned on us out of his own free choice."

"So you forgot about the fact he murdered that Padawan child, Hunter?"

Hunter flinched at Crosshair's sneer, at the way one sentence dug into Hunter and made him doubt the person he'd thought he'd known Tech was. Hunter always tried to convince Crosshair that their brother's actions - killing the Jedi, capturing his team and working for the Imperial Science Bureau - came from the inhibitor chip, but even Hunter struggled to forgive Tech when he remembered the young Padawan, Petro, gunned down ruthlessly by Tech.

Tech had believed he was protecting his brothers from the Jedi, and had acted abnormal in his manner of speech, when he'd gunned down Master Rasse and her Padawan, Petro, on Mikkia at the very end of the Clone Wars. Hunter had never been able to get the image of the Padawan falling to the ground beside his master, a blaster bolt to his forehead seared into the very core of Hunter's being.

Tech had never been a killer, hadn't been the type to end situations with violence like Crosshair and Wrecker had always been, but he had gunned down a Jedi and a young, not even teenaged child without any sign of regret. And Tech had fed the Empire so many inventions and ideas that were used daily to terrorize the galaxy, even Hunter struggled to believe Tech hadn't turned against his brothers of his own free will.

But Hunter also knew Tech - had known him, more accurately - and his Tech would never have killed anyone, least of all a young child, without proper reasoning. It had taken Crosshair fighting him and almost killing him to subdue Hunter long enough for Crosshair's medical droids to remove Hunter's inhibitor chip and leave him suddenly aware of everything Hunter himself had done for the Empire.

Crosshair refused to accept that Tech's actions were chosen for him by the inhibitor chip because of the deep sense of loathing and betrayal he felt for his former best friend, and Hunter understood his brother's reluctance. Crosshair was angry and deeply bitter, but Hunter had never missed the unmistakable sound of Crosshair crying whenever they traveled through hyperspace late at night.

Tech had betrayed his family, had betrayed Crosshair, and Crosshair could never forgive Tech for his actions.

But Hunter knew that Tech could never have made the decision to execute the Jedi without losing his bodily autonomy. The inhibitor chip had turned Tech on his brothers, twisted his love and affection for Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo, and made him fight however he could to protect his family.

"If I accept that he was controlled by an inhibitor chip," Crosshair suddenly whispered, the crack in his voice so loud to Hunter's sensitive hearing, "then it means I will have to accept that the loathing for him that helped me break away from the Empire was misplaced. I cannot do that, Hunter… not without definitive evidence that Tech wouldn't turn on us and capture us to keep us beside him."

"Hating him for the rest of our lives will only continue to hurt you, Cross," Hunter sighed in answer, "you have to forgive him someday or you will never be able to rest."

Crosshair glared at Hunter, his eyes blazing with dark fury before the sniper jerked his head away from Hunter and scoffed. "That traitor doesn't deserve to be forgiven."

"Tech deserves the same chance you gave me, Cross. I almost killed you when you tried to capture me, but you don't hate me. Give Tech a chance. He did remove Wrecker's inhibitor chip, and that has to mean something."

"That means nothing," Crosshair snarled, his words as final as any end to a Crosshair argument.

Hunter looked away from Crosshair and sighed, just as uncertain as Crosshair, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he thought of his youngest brother. Thought of Tech executing two Jedi, thought of Tech using Hunter's senses against him to capture his brothers, and of the inventor who designed weapons without a second thought - and tried to remember the old Tech, the one who could never raise his blasters in aggression against another sentient being, and the one who had always been a reliable source of calm.

Was his brother still inside Tech, or had his inhibitor chip removed every part of Tech that Hunter loved?


"The Imperial Navy finally completed its siege of Mikkia when a new weapon, a phosgene bomb produced by Archer Industries, was dropped on the main city of Aikkim. The chemical bomb effectively eradicated the resistant population, and left the Empire with more options for subjugating planets. Archer Industries' morality must be called to question-"

"A new day awaits for the men and women serving the Empire, and protecting the galaxy! Archer Industries' crack team of scientists, from their lab on N'Zoth, cracked the code to replicating the Zillo Beast's impenetrable armored scales, and now our troops will soon be wearing armor immune to all ranges of weaponry-"

"The Empire releases an airborne viral agent, created from plants harvested from the heavily protected planet, Cadannia, to terrifying effect on the remaining Separatist holdouts on Ostor-"

"The medical science behind bacta has been drastically improved, thanks to Archer Industries' lab on N'Zoth. After three years of testing, the effectiveness of bacta has finally been expanded upon-"

Tech paused in his scrolling, fingers hovering over his datapad tiredly as he attempted to understand everything he'd read.

Crosshair had not lied to him.

Tech's inventions were being used to destroy worlds, and they now posed a very real danger to his brothers. His brothers were no longer aligned with the Empire and, thus, were enemies to the Empire. If the Empire received wind of the fact that Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker were alive, the Empire would use Tech's inventions against his brothers.

He had to protect his brothers, no matter where their loyalty lied, and he knew what he had to do - be damn the consequences to himself when Tech's brothers were in danger. Every choice he'd made had been for his brothers and this choice would be his final one.

This was a choice only for Tech, and he could not involve his lab technicians in his scheming. They would have to leave, and in a way that did not raise the Empire's suspicions towards the many scientists who worked for his lab.

Tech was going to betray the Empire, and he had to do so alone.


Tech's arms had long ago lost all feeling to them, chained as they were above his head. Cold sweat trickled down his back as his head hung limply, his chin tucked into his chest weakly.

He had grown used to his damp prison cell, grown used to the aches and pains that kept him awake constantly, and was very familiar with the torture methods the Imperial Security Bureau was using against him.

The Empire had gotten wind of his traitorous actions after a year and a half, and they were anything but pleased when they'd stormed into his empty lab and captured Tech. Tech was only relieved to know that his lab technicians had long fled N'Zoth at his urgence, as he had never desired bringing his employees in on his plans to turn on the Empire. Koyi and the rest of his technicians had no involvement in Tech's saboteur plotting, and their safety relieved Tech.

They were safe, and Tech could only hope that his brothers were too. He did not believe his brothers would search for him - a broken part of him wanted his brothers to flee as far from the Empire as they could get -, and he understood if they didn't want to see him again.

He was a monster, after all.

That much Tech understood, and he agreed with Crosshair on the point of his amorality - his brother was not incorrect in yelling at Tech, and Tech did deserve Crosshair's hatred -, for Tech could no longer recognize himself. In the time between when he had met Crosshair and Hunter and been captured, Tech had done hours and hours of research into everything he'd created for the Empire, and the findings only revealed the monster he was.

He had not turned against the Empire out of emotion, but from pure, cold logic. His brothers were no longer part of the Empire, and his inventions posed a very real threat against his brothers. It had made sense to look into what Crosshair had shown him - to do Tech's own research on what his inventions were being used for - and it had been easy.

Almost too easy, considering Tech had restructured the Imperial mainframe after a cyberattack had been waged on the Empire's central systems years ago. He'd sliced through every little firewall and security code Tech had installed into the mainframe, and the information that had spilled out to Tech had left him abnormally quiet.

He'd eventually found the reg Crosshair had called "Echo", and was surprised and worried to find out that Echo had been part of Tech's squad. The fact Tech had no memory of a clone who was part of his squad, and thus part of Tech's family, only made him pursue the thread of Echo's fate with an intensity that he hadn't felt in years.

Finally, Tech had found where Echo - being used as a neural interface for battle strategies and tactics - was stored, and the decision to break Echo out had come in a split second. Tech wasn't sure what part of him had ever been so determined before, but the effort Tech had put into hacking the entirety of the Imperial Navy's database, and thus allowing him the chance to sneak in and steal Echo from his confines, had breathed life into Tech. He had never been naturally inclined towards violence as his brothers and all reg clones were, but Tech had actually enjoyed sneaking into the Imperial Navy's headquarters and breaking Echo out.

The process of removing Echo from the neural interface had been tricky, but some part of Tech had urged him that this wasn't the first time he'd helped Echo. And the process had felt familiar to a degree, and it was that familiarity that had made Tech escape with Echo before the Imperial Navy's backup generators and systems had come online again.

Echo had remained unconscious the entire hyperspace flight to a random Wild Space planet Tech had told his brothers to meet him at, and Echo had not woken even when Tech had passed the clone over to his brothers. Hunter and Wrecker had begged Tech to stay with them, while Crosshair had stayed on the Havoc Marauder and refused to look at Tech, but Tech had refused.

He had so many more of his inventions and designs to destroy before he could ever think about joining his brothers - if he even deserved his brothers anymore. Crosshair was right when he'd told Tech that he had enslaved his brothers, and the unshed tears in Crosshair's eyes when he'd screamed his fury at Tech stuck with him every waking moment of his life.

Tech wasn't truly certain whether his efforts to destroy his inventions - and funnel every last credit from the Imperial Science Bureau's coiffers to beleaguered planets resisting the Empire - could ever amount to the suffering his inventions had caused the galaxy, but he had been determined to try.

Rescuing Echo, though, was the final nail in his proverbial coffin, and it had not taken many days after Tech's raid of the Imperial Navy's headquarters for the Empire to barge into his lab and capture him. Since that day, Tech had been stuck in the damp prison cell, arms chained to the wall, and the Imperial Security Bureua agent, Clayton Vanderbilt, had made it his daily goal to torture Tech.

A smirk flitted across Tech's face as he thought of the agent's growing rage and frustration towards Tech, who had talked circles around the agent and never answered the questions the Imperial fielded towards Tech, and the fact that he knew the agent was losing his composure around Tech.

Tech was certain that he would die in the Imperial prison, but he was not bothered by the thought of dying here. It would be well deserved, seeing how many planets had been destroyed by Tech's inventions and the weapons of mass destruction Tech had perfected, and death was no longer something Tech feared.

He would miss his brothers dearly, but then, he already missed his brothers with a desperation that he tried to hide from Vanderbilt. Tech knew that his brothers were safe and that the Empire had not yet captured his brothers - he hoped the hundreds of advancements he had made to the Havoc Marauder over the years was keeping them safe -, for Vanderbilt would have paraded his brothers in front of Tech by now to break him.

The fact Vanderbilt continued to snap at Tech for the location of his brothers, Echo and the Havoc Marauder only made it more clear to Tech that his brothers were safe. And, so long as they remained that way, Tech would fight the Empire and Vanderbilt as long as it took for him to die.

The Empire no longer held control over Tech, and he would fight them tooth and nail - in a metaphorical and non-physical way - to the bitter end. Tech deserved to be punished, deserved the torture the Empire demanded he be put under, and he would deserve death, if that was his eventual fate.

The heavy sound of boots, followed by two different voices, drew Tech from his thoughts, his blurred gaze shifting towards where he knew the prison cell door was. He tilted his head and listened, calculating the distance between his cell and the two people rapidly approaching his cell, and stiffened into a defiant stiffness seconds before the two people stopped outside his cell.

"You can't keep doing this to him, Father! He's a human, even if he did betray the Empire!"

"He is a clone, Josephine. Clones do not have rights in the Empire, and for good reason - as this traitor has shown us. How many of his bombs have killed innocent Imperial soldiers because of his modifications? How many people has the Empire lost because of this clone's actions?"

Vanderbilt's voice was recognizable to Tech immediately, and even his daughter's voice was somewhat familiar, though Tech had never interacted with her directly. He had assumed, by his lack of knowledge of her personality, that she would support her father in all matters, so Tech was more than a little surprised to hear the strain in her voice as she continued to argue for Tech's welfare.

"Josephine, enough. The only way the Empire can teach others to not betray us is by making an example of those that do, and our 'brilliant' inventor has impacted the Empire more than you understand," Vanderbilt snapped, just as Tech heard the sound of his cell door opening.

He stiffened slightly and glared weakly at the Imperial agent as the man approached Tech, the agent stopping and bending down as he roughly grabbed Tech's chin and drug his head up so that Tech had to meet the man's eyes. "My daughter made me late to our sessions, clone. I hope you will be willing to talk this time, for your sake."

Tech glared at Vanderbilt as the man continued to dig his fingers against Tech's jaw, then huffed out a cold reply. "I continue to lack the resources or knowledge to answer your questions. I am a braindead clone after all, are I not?"

Vanderbilt's fist slammed into Tech's face, breaking his nose and slamming the back of his head into the brick wall of his cell. Tech slumped, his arms straining as his body slumped forward, the fire racing through his face almost making Tech wince out pained groans.

"Stupid, arrogant clone," Vanderbilt snarled as his hand suddenly latched around the dirty collar of Tech's shirt, and yanked him to his feet.

Tech snarled at the man as he felt the agent unlock his wrist cuffs, allowing his arms to drop to his side and let a hiss of relieved air to escape from his lungs. There was no point in fighting Vanderbilt as the man drug Tech out of his cell, throwing him onto a cold, steel slab of a table that Tech had grown more than familiar with.

Tech struggled against the stronger man as Vanderbilt slapped cuffs over his wrists, pinning Tech to the table and rendering him incapable of moving. This part Tech still hated, being restrained and held down without any chance to defend himself, as it was far too close to what his former handler had done to him when he was a cadet.

But, a wry, humorless smile tugged at Tech's lips, she had prepared him for this. She'd hated him and abused him, and Tech had never seen any reason for her actions before, but now… now Tech was almost glad she'd tortured him, if only because it had hardened him to what Vanderbilt did to him daily.

Vanderbilt glowered down at Tech, hatred blazing through his eyes as he bent down over Tech's prone form and snarled darkly at him. "I thought that you would break and give me the information I desired, but you continue to refuse to cooperate. What is the point of your defiance, clone?"

"Is it defiance if I do not know the answer to your questions?" Tech hummed as he met Vanderbilt's stare and smirked.

He had become accustomed to Vanderbilt's methods of torture over the months - Tech assumed he had been captured for months, though he had no sun or moon to judge time on this unidentified planet -, and he was unbothered by the pain the man inflicted upon him. Tech had had far worse from his former handler and her cruel methods of punishment when he was a cadet. Vanderbilt's methods were similar but not even comparable in their hold over Tech.

Vanderbilt did not hold sway over Tech's self-worth as Sullo Pria had, nor did the agent have Tech's brothers to threaten him with. The man held no power over Tech, even when the man had removed every tendon from Tech's hands in punishment for his refusal to speak.

The pain of the scalpel tearing through his flesh had been too much for Tech to bite back, and Vanderbilt's smile when Tech had screamed in agony had only steeled Tech. He could not reveal or expose weakness to Vanderbilt, and so Tech had bit his tongue and thought of every negative emotion stored inside him. He thought of Crosshair's deserved hatred of him, thought of how his former handler had kept him pinned and broke him down piece by piece, and thought of the monster he'd been made into by the Empire.

His anger had kept Tech strong as the agent reopened the hasty stitches he had applied to Tech's hands where he'd cut into his flesh, Vanderbilt's expression gleeful as he reopened Tech's wounds and cut his hands apart inch by inch. Tech was used to the man cutting his hands open now, the agent's method of taking away Tech's ability to create and invent - but Tech could not let himself truly think about what the man was doing.

Tech had tried to move his fingers after the eighth round of cutting, but his hand could do little more than twitch stiffly. Tech could never again hold a soldering iron, or work on a spaceship's wiring, nor would he ever be able to fly a starship again. He knew what the implications of his damaged hands meant, but he could not allow himself to dwell on the truth, not if he wanted to resist Vanderbilt.

"For a clone you are annoyingly resilient," Vanderbilt snapped angrily as he pulled back from Tech and sneered down at him. "But I will break you, I promise that."

"That would be an inaccurate assumption on your part," Tech immediately replied, "for your methods are incomparable to my old handler's. You can never match her depravity and cruelty, no matter what you attempt to do to me. She trained me to resist torture and, in that regard, I thank her."

A muscle pulsed in Vanderbilt's jaw at Tech's taunt, the agent's fists clenching at his sides as the man let out a frustrated growl. "You are insufferably insolent, clone."

Tech smirked, knowing that doing so would drive the agent off the walls, and was wholly unsurprised when Vanderbilt slugged him in the face. Pain blistered through Tech's jaw as he reeled sideways from the hit, his chained down arms unable to do much more than chafe at his worn wrists.

He heard Vanderbilt ranting above him as Tech's vision and hearing swam in and out of focus, his weakened body overly susceptible to pain in the months of capture he'd endured. Tech couldn't remember the last time he'd had a fulfilling meal, as the most he was given was a cup of rice and stale bread - not enough to keep Tech fit, though portioned just enough to keep Tech from starving - and his body had weakened substantially because of it.

There was no way Tech could fight Vanderbilt even if he wanted to, and he lacked the desire to fight Vanderbilt in any way other than refusing to answer the Imperial Security Bureau agent's questions. Tech was tired, and some part of him knew he deserved what the Empire was inflicting upon him.

Losing the functionality of his hands was the least punishment he could earn for everything he'd created. He deserved having his hands made inoperable, for his ability to invent had always been Tech's only way of believing he was useful to his brothers.

Everything… for his brothers.

They were why he endured Vanderbilt's torture with smirks and taunts, why he'd turned against the Empire… and why he'd made the mistake of capturing his brothers fourteen years ago.

Tech had believed he was helping his brothers by capturing them, protecting them from the Empire and preventing his brothers from leaving him behind. And he was a fool for that thought. Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker had been turned into slaves, made to fight for the Empire because of Tech.

He had betrayed them, and Vanderbilt's punishments were not even equal to the hurt that lived inside Tech whenever he thought about how he'd so completely broken his brothers' trust. Crosshair hated him, for Force's sake! His best friend hated him, and Tech couldn't see any choice but to accept his brother's hate.

Tech felt Vanderbilt's left hand press against his chest, the weight of the man bearing down on his ribs as the agent bared his teeth at Tech. "You enjoy talking to me in circles, don't you? How you must love the sound of your voice, clone."

"If you did not ask me inane questions, then we would not be speaking in circles. I have made this abundantly clear," Tech sighed, his eyes rolling exaggeratedly as he shot the agent a tired look.

"I threatened you with the solution to your insolence before, and yet you continue to mock the Empire and my station," Vanderbilt growled, movement from his right hand forcing Tech to stiffen warily and narrow his blurry vision.

"There is little point to your ability to speak," Vanderbilt was smiling as he moved his right hand close enough for Tech to define the blurred, silver shape in his hand - a scalpel -, "and I have grown quite tired of hearing you blather about like a fool."

Tech swallowed as the agent twirled the scalpel in his hand, the man's slowness deliberate as he looked between the scalpel and Tech. A rush of worry, unlike anything Tech had felt before from Vanderbilt's treatment of him, almost made Tech shrink away from the Imperial agent, but he fought it desperately.

He could not show his fear, Tech had to stay strong.

"The moment you allow your captor to see that they have broken you, then they have won. Only a coward shows weakness to their enemy, remember that." His former handler's oily, snake-like voice slithered through Tech's thoughts, strengthening his resolve enough to glare at Vanderbilt.

"You will not break me by removing my ability to speak, as you have repeatedly threatened," Tech said slowly, eyes narrowing as he fought back the fear clawing at his throat, and snarled at the agent.

One of Vanderbilt's eyebrows quirked, his curious expression holding for a moment before the agent's mouth turned down into a snarl and he jabbed the bladed tip of the scalpel under Tech's chin. Tech reeled away from the scalpel, his heart slamming against his ribs as the agent's snarl grew ever more menacing.

"My daughter works as a personal physician for Moff Garrison, and she has thus told me much about how to remove one's larynx. I'll keep you alive, I promise that," Vanderbilt scoffed, amusement dancing in his green eyes as he sneered down at Tech, "but you will never be able to speak again when I am through with you."

Tech felt the scalpel press against the skin of his throat, the prick of the blade cutting into his throat forcing Tech's entire body to freeze in place. He didn't dare to move, but for his eyes closing and his teeth grinding together as he felt the scalpel dig deeper into his skin.

He had to stay strong.

He could not flinch.

He had been trained for this.

Tech deserved this. He could not be a coward, afraid of losing his voice and himself, not when he'd been used against the galaxy by the Empire. Not when he'd destroyed his brothers and taken away their freedom for fourteen years.

I deserve this.

Then, suddenly, the blade stopped.

Tech dared not look, not even when he heard Vanderbilt swear and the pressure of his weight left Tech's chest. Air hissed through Tech's lungs, his desperate attempt at breathing only making his throat split with fire.

Tech squirmed under the cuffs, desperate to escape while he had the chance-

"Tech!"

"TECH!? BUDDY!?"

Tech's eyes snapped open at the sound of Hunter and Wrecker's shouts, the heavy boom of Wrecker's roar making Tech thrash. His brothers had come for him!

His brothers-

No!

They couldn't be here! The Empire would destroy them! No, no, no!

"Hunter! Run!" Tech screamed for his brother as he thrashed under his bindings, the urgent need to escape and warn his brothers to leave giving Tech strength he did not know he had.

Tech thrashed, cuffed hands clawing uselessly at the table as the unmistakable sound of his brothers charging through the prison - for him - became clear. But they couldn't! They couldn't risk their lives for him, damn them!

The sudden feeling of a hand around his throat, choking the air from his lungs, forced Tech to stop moving, his eyes wide as Vanderbilt glared down at him.

"What did you do?" Vanderbilt hissed, eyes burning with unbridled fury as his grip tightened over Tech's throat.

Tech squirmed underneath the agent's grip, his vision swimming as he struggled for air. The hand around his throat loosened slightly, but it was enough for Tech to suck in agonizing breaths and glare at Vanderbilt.

"It seems," Tech coughed out weakly, "that you underestimated my brothers."

Vanderbilt's face twisted with rage at Tech's response and, before Tech could think, he felt the agent's hands tighten around his throat and crush at his windpipe. A desperate desire for air kicked into Tech, though he could do little more than squirm under his wrist cuffs and leg shackles. He could hear himself wheezing, each breath more labored than the other, and knew his brothers would not reach him in time.

A gargled cry for his brothers slipped unbidden from Tech as he thought of his family, their broken bodies thrown into cells in their attempt to save him. He could not allow that to happen.

"Be quiet!" Vanderbilt hissed, just as he slammed his left hand over Tech's mouth.

There was no thought behind Tech, but for surviving and protecting his brothers, as he bit down on the palm of Vanderbilt's hand. Vanderbilt howled as Tech bit through flesh, the sharp taste of copper immediate upon his tongue, and then Tech felt the crushing weight on his throat vanish.

"You insolent little bastard!"

Vanderbilt's shout was distant, foggy and almost indecipherable as Tech tried to breathe. His lungs heaved as Tech wavered closer and closer to unconsciousness, his blurred vision only serving to make everything before him more confusing. Blood trickled from his neck where the agent's scalpel had cut into his flesh, and each breath Tech took only made starbursts of flame blaze through his body.

A click of metal and the slide of electricity made it clear to Tech that Vanderbilt had drawn his service blaster and, though Tech could not define images with his eyesight, had his blaster aimed at Tech.

Tech closed his eyes, unable to fight any longer-

The air was rent with a loud blast, the hot spray of blood striking Tech's face the only hint to the fact he was still alive. He heard a thud of flesh crumple to the ground beside him, then felt gentle fingers brush against the skin of his throat.

"You're okay, we've got you," one of his brothers whispered, his voice unfamiliar for Tech's weakened state.

Tech tried to smile - he had never been so relieved to feel one of his brothers near him; to hear their rough, worried voices - but his lips only twisted into a weak frown as Tech battled with his body's desire to rest. "Thanks… brother…"

The same fingers suddenly prodded at his neck, a strange sensation of a liquid being funneled through his cut open skin sharp and almost unnerving. Tech flinched, his cuffed wrists chafing against the metal binders as he tried to pull away from the unfamiliar sensation.

A hand on his shoulder steadied Tech, his heartbeat slowing as a low, quiet voice hissed reassurances to him. Tech listened to the voice, ears strained as he attempted to pick out which of his brothers had found him.

It wasn't Wrecker, for the hands were far too small and gentle, nor were they rough and calloused. That only left Hunter, for Crosshair hated him-

"Tech."

The voice came much closer to him this time, the low hiss startling Tech out of his thoughts and to the sharp gaze of Crosshair. Even with Tech's irritatingly poor eyesight, he could recognize his brother's silver hair and the hard set of his mouth. But Crosshair made no sense… Crosshair hated Tech. He couldn't be here - he wouldn't.

"Cross?" The words croaked from Tech before he could bite them back, the nervous underlayment behind his strained voice all too telling.

Crosshair shushed Tech, his lack of a verbal response only cementing the fact that Crosshair, who loathed Tech with all of his heart, was tending to him and whispering soft reassurances towards him.

"I… do not… deserve you," Tech choked out as he felt Crosshair apply an overly cool bacta gel over his cut open throat.

Crosshair remained silent, only to respond in low greeting when Tech heard two more sets of feet barge into the interrogation chamber. Wrecker roared his name with an unusual tremor to his voice, but he did not rush Tech into one of his characteristic hugs. Hunter appeared beside Tech quietly, his older brother's left hand resting against his chest as Hunter unlocked the cuffs on Tech's right wrist.

His brother let out a sharp gasp when Tech felt his brother's fingers move past his wrist, the sensation of Hunter's fingers wrapping around his own so distant that Tech barely registered it. An urge of instinct made Tech try to squeeze his brother's fingers, but he could do nothing more than make his fingers twitch.

"What's wrong, Hunter?"

Wrecker…

Force, Tech was losing his battle with consciousness while his brothers… worried over him…

Have to warn… them…

"Run… Empire… here," Tech whispered as his brothers' voices blurred into one worried crescendo, then finally succumbed to the black wave of sleep that had been fighting him for too long.


Soft voices roused Tech, his eyes opening slowly to a dull light and unfamiliar, blurry durasteel walls.

The sharp scent of antiseptic burned at his eyes and nose, so unfamiliar were they compared to the moldy dampness of his prison cell, but Tech vastly preferred the burn of cleaning chemicals over anything that prison had. If he was no longer in his cell, then where was Tech?

A cursory look around only revealed blurred shapes, three distinct ones that seemed familiar even with his vision, and one more figure that was a haze of reds and whites. Tech let out a weak groan as he tried to move, though his body refused his demands pointedly.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating.

He had never felt so useless before, but that was exactly what Tech had become once the Imperial Security Bureau had captured him. He had almost gone mad from a lack of mental stimulation, for his datapad and goggles had been long confiscated from his possession, and he knew there were no award systems in the ISB prison system - he could not even pry a book from one of the guards to stave some of the intense boredom he'd been suffering through.

All he'd had for thoughts, all that could occupy Tech's mind, were the daily sessions of torture Vanderbilt had forced him through to make him talk. The ISB agent had not broken Tech - Tech could not let Vanderbilt have broken him - but the agent had been close.

Tech scowled as he thought of the hours and hours he had been forced to spend under the agent's scrutinizing gaze and, on instinct, attempted to curl his fingers into fists. A jolt of pain stabbed through Tech when he moved his hands, the pained hiss of air that screamed from his lungs a betrayal of his pain.

"Tech?! Hunter, he's awake!"

The sudden rush of worried voices, followed by a giant source of warmth curling against him, jerked Tech's gaze to the broad frame of Wrecker. His brother's arms were wrapped around Tech, and Wrecker was hugging Tech as he buried his head into Tech's shoulder.

Tech blinked at his brother's closeness - at the feeling of being surrounded in Wrecker's inescapable grasp - and did not dare to move. Wrecker had not hugged Tech in more than a decade and a half - the last time he remembered Wrecker hugging him was before Kaller -, and there was no urge inside Tech to pull away.

He liked being hugged by Wrecker. Wrecker felt safe… felt like he loved Tech, and Tech had not felt that exhilarating warmth in his chest since Kaller. This felt right-

No.

No. This was wrong.

Tech's brothers could not forgive him. Not with everything he had created. Tech had read the articles, had researched everything that his weapons and inventions had been used for, and there was no other conclusion for Tech's actions other than irredeemable.

Inhibitor chip or not, Tech had never questioned the inventions - had actually found testing each and every one of them exhilarating in a declaration of yet another one of his inventions succeeding - and his unwavering desire to protect his brothers had blinded him. Mikkia and Mirial had both been destroyed by his phosgene bombs, the populations of each planet wiped out by a weapon Tech had invented and fine tuned.

What did it matter if Tech had hacked the timers on every last remaining phosgene bomb to explode prematurely, when his hands were bloodied by so many innocent people's lives? Tech had enabled the Empire to trample the entire galaxy and he had done nothing to ever make up for his actions. Destroying every last one of his inventions' blueprints and removing the information and schematics to everything he'd created meant nothing, not when he'd worked for the Empire for fourteen years to destroy the spirit of the galaxy.

Tech had invented his way into the annals of history as a monster, a foolish, oblivious enabler to a vile Empire. He'd believed he was protecting his brothers with every single weapon he created, but all Tech had done was enslave his family. Tech had followed the Empire longer than he had ever had free thought, and the fact of that only forced Tech into an ever more unsettled state of mind.

"Tech?"

Hunter's voice, rougher than Tech had ever heard it before, pulled Tech from his thoughts and to where his older brother was staring down at him, eyes dark with concern. Hunter's face was scarred on the right side, long, narrow scars that looked too similar to the cut of Hunter's own vibroblade to be anything but from a knife. His hair was longer than Tech remembered it and, upon closer inspection of the way Hunter stood, Tech could tell that Hunter was favoring his left leg.

His brother looked utterly exhausted, drained, and his eyes held a depth of darkness Tech had never imagined seeing in Hunter's gaze. It was obvious, Tech knew, that Hunter had been broken by the inhibitor chip and his fourteen years of forced servitude. And it was all Tech's fault…

Tech wanted to apologize to his brothers, wanted to plead for their understanding, but he could not. What could he say that could ever make up for enslaving his brothers for years of their lives? There was nothing Tech could ever say that could even begin to voice his sorrow - explain how much he regretted capturing his brothers, and regretted his selfish, worthless, horrid desire to always have his brothers by his side.

That had allowed Tech to enslave his brothers and willingly invent weapons of mass destruction that had rendered so many planets obsolete. Tech had calculated how many people his inventions had destroyed, and the number left Tech's mind reeling as he adjusted each figure higher and higher in his prison cell.

He'd believed his emotions taken care of - burned away with each enhancement of his chip -, but now Tech knew that had been an incorrect assumption. He could feel emotions, but only those that resided inside the very worst part of him, clawing into his soul with each invention he finalized. He was a monster, fraught with hatred and anger and guilt. He didn't remember what it meant to have felt happiness, or when he'd last felt an upswell of pride burn through his veins at one of his brothers' compliments.

All he had left were the worst kind of emotions, the kind that had enslaved his brothers and aided the Empire's conquest of the galaxy. But there was one emotion Tech could agree with, for it was the most logical and accurate to what he had done, and that was the intense self-loathing he felt eating at his heart.

"Stop," Wrecker suddenly growled, his voice rumbling through Tech's smaller frame, as his oldest brother pulled Tech closer to his broad chest and wrapped an arm under Tech's back. "Stop, please."

"We're on General Nyshyn's Jedi Cruiser, Tech. She and her men were beyond Wild Space when Order 66 went through, and they never heard the order. The General felt the death of the Jedi in the Force and fled… her men had their chips removed, and we are all welcome here. We're safe, all of us.

"You've been kept under stasis for two weeks, Tech, ever since we found you in that Imperial prison. We received word from a Rebel contact who knew an Imperial working at the prison that you were there… and all we could think of was if we'd reach you in time. I am glad we did, little brother…"

Hunter's hand rested against Tech's left arm, the firmness of Hunter's touch and voice drawing Tech's gaze away from Wrecker and back to Hunter. Hunter had pulled up a chair in Tech's distracted thoughts, and was leaning on his right elbow beside Tech's shoulder, his eyes even darker with worry than before.

Tech attempted a smile out of instinct, but his lips twisted and fell as Tech looked away from Hunter and sighed. He wished his brothers would stop pretending they liked him. Wrecker and Hunter had no reason to care about him, little reason to worry about him, and none whatsoever to hug him. Tech had betrayed them, even if it had been because the Empire had enhanced his inhibitor chip and forced him to hunt his brothers down.

There was a logical explanation to his actions under the Empire, for the inhibitor chip and its enhancements - of which he'd studied after his inhibitor chip had been removed on Kamino - had made Tech compliant. Tech had never seen anything wrong with his actions under the Empire, and that was because of the inhibitor chip's influence upon him.

But, in this matter, Tech hated and refuted logic.

Logic had gotten his brothers captured - had enslaved them. Tech's logic had fought through the chip once - a week after he'd captured his brothers -, but never again after. Tech hated logic, and hated himself.

"Tech, please, breathe," Hunter's voice hissed by his ear, moments before Tech felt a numb sensation rub against the back of his left hand.

Memories of Vanderbilt cutting into Tech's hand made him attempt to jerk away, but Hunter's grip on his hand did not loosen even a centimeter, and Tech knew there was little point in fighting. A sigh hissed from Tech's lungs as he looked up into Hunter's eyes, then looked down at where Hunter was holding his left hand.

Immediately, Tech noticed that his hand was wrapped in bacta gauze and placed in a surgical hand splint. Hunter's eyes flicked to Tech before, with a sigh, Hunter shook his head, shoulders drooping noticeably.

"There was nothing Suture could do for your hands, Tech," Hunter admitted quietly, his words only confirming the worry that Tech had held for so long inside the Imperial prison, "he's had them in bacta since we found you two weeks ago, but there's no good diagnosis. Suture tried his hardest, but he's confirmed that you will never regain your full range of motion in your hands. It may be possible, with enough physical therapy or replacement surgery, that you could regain some motor function, but not much."

Tech didn't answer but to look away from Hunter, though he did notice that Wrecker's grip on him had tightened while Hunter had detailed the extent of his injuries. This was what Tech had expected but the quiet, hurt way Hunter had explained his injuries to him, only served to further punctuate exactly what Tech had feared.

He could never again use his hands to create, but that was a suitable punishment for what he'd done. Tech let out a sigh then, with an unbothered shrug of his shoulders, he tried to level an easy tone to Hunter's statement.

"That is an expected conclusion, and one I have prepared for," Tech muttered. He heard Hunter sigh and felt Wrecker's fingers dig against his back as Tech spoke, and it was their obvious presence that made him realize Crosshair wasn't there.

Crosshair had been the one who found Tech, that much he remembered from the prison, but he was conspicuously absent. Tech peered over Wrecker, trying to find the blurry form that he knew would be Crosshair, but there was nothing.

Disappointment made Tech slump and lean into Wrecker, Tech's thoughts unhappily remote and angry. He knew he shouldn't have expected Crosshair to be able to forgive him enough to comfort Tech, not as Wrecker and Hunter were trying - though how they could forgive him made little sense to Tech.

Tech knew he could not outright ask his brothers for their opinion on him - though he suspected the answer -, but Tech had to know what his brothers were thinking. He shot a look between Hunter and Wrecker before Tech sighed and, wanting to ask his brothers' opinion of him in a roundabout way, said, "Why did you rescue me?"

Hunter stared down at Tech without answering, his eyes flicking from Tech's face for a brief moment before Tech saw the blur of Hunter's shoulders slump. "Because you are our brother."

"Am I?" Tech snapped, memories of Crosshair roaring at him on that quiet nothingness of a planet in Wild Space far too fresh for him to believe Hunter. Wrecker, Hunter and Crosshair had been turned against their will and used by the Empire because of Tech, that was not what a brother would do to his family. Never.

"You are, Tech!" Wrecker growled suddenly, his voice surprising Tech in its intensity.

Wrecker had always been loud, boisterous and overly enthusiastic, but the thrum in his brother's words, nor the sharp glare in his eyes, spoke of Wrecker's words being anything but truth. Tech lowered his gaze and tried to look away from his brothers, only for Hunter's hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"We all know why you captured us, Tech. The Empire and the inhibitor chip made you do that to us. That wasn't you, not completely." Hunter was trying to reassure Tech, that much he could tell, but Tech did not find much of what Hunter was saying capable of reassurances.

Enslaving his brothers was only one of Tech's many mistakes under the Empire and, as much as Tech hated to think of his brothers abandoning him, he knew Crosshair was correct in refusing to see him. Hunter and Wrecker were trying to be nice when Tech had made no reason for such warmth, not since before Kaller.

Tech wasn't even the same person as he'd been before the end of the Clone Wars, and that only made him more certain that he had become the man the chip had created. He was colder than he'd ever been before, and even Tech found his logical side almost… too pragmatic. Tech had betrayed the Empire out of logic, not from emotion, and he still struggled with feeling anything.

He had been confused when Crosshair had yelled at him, but not upset - Tech hadn't even flinched or backed away from Crosshair, as he would have before his inhibitor chip. And, though Tech had used anger to resist Vanderbilt, the anger was not naturally occurring. Tech had made himself feel anger, had generated that emotion with the sole purpose of resisting the torture the agent had put him through.

Even his desire to be near his brothers - to have all three of them forgive him - came from a desire for companionship, and less so a desperation to feel like he belonged, or that he deserved love from his brothers. The inhibitor chip, and every single one of his chip enhancements - of which his medical record logged more than seven hundred over his fourteen years working for the Empire - had changed Tech fundamentally.

He had to explain to his brothers that, no matter what he'd done to betray the Empire, he wasn't the same person anymore. He couldn't be, not after everything he'd done for the Empire in the Imperial Science Bureau. His brothers should have left him in that prison-

"Wrecker and I have to reconcile with everything we were made to do under the Empire too, Tech," Hunter interjected before Tech could bury himself in his negative thoughts even further. "We have all killed innocent people because of the Empire and our inhibitor chips, and you do not need to suffer alone with the thought of what you have become because of the chip."

"But that is my fault-"

Hunter's glare silenced Tech mid-sentence then, with a gentleness that reminded Tech of the years before the Clone Wars, when he had always relied on his brothers for support, Hunter wrapped his arms around Tech and hugged him. Wrecker let out a satisfied noise before he wrapped his right arm over Hunter and pulled him closer to Tech.

Tech allowed his brothers' closeness, though he did not believe he deserved either Wrecker or Hunter's love, and finally allowed a relenting sigh to hiss from his lungs. "If you believe so strongly in your convictions, Hunter, I will attempt to reconcile the same."

No response came for a few moments then, Tech felt Hunter's fingers grab his chin and turn his head so that Tech had to stare into his brother's determined gaze, and Tech could feel Hunter's intense resolve. "We have to be strong together, Tech. Cross just needs more time, but I know he loves you still."

"Why?" Tech whispered, so quietly he hoped Hunter hadn't heard him - but there was no such luck with Hunter.

Hunter's eyes narrowed slightly, the sorrow in his gaze clear, then he retracted his hand from Tech's chin and shook his head. "You know exactly why, Tech."

Tech looked away from Hunter and sighed, accepting what Hunter said, though doubt still remained in his chest. Hunter seemed to sense Tech's doubt and, with a tiny quirk of his lips, Hunter pulled Tech against his chest.

"No matter what has happened, Tech, we love you for you. I don't need you to be able to fix my armor for me to love you," Hunter's voice rumbled above Tech, its huskiness as reassuring as it had been when they were cadets, "none of us do. We love you because you are our brother, and that is all I need to love you."

Tech didn't know what to say, or if Hunter wished for a response, so he resorted to pressing closer to Hunter, aware still of Wrecker's arm wrapped under him, and sighed. His brothers still loved him, even after everything Tech had put them through, and he did not dare speak or move away from Wrecker or Hunter.

The warmth of his brothers' embrace eased Tech worries and, though he could not sleep - even when Wrecker started to snore on his shoulder -, Tech felt more rested than he had in years.


Frustration edged through Tech as he turned his wrists, glaring down at his useless hands angrily. He'd failed again, and Suture's disappointed expression when Tech hadn't been able to even curl his fingers at the metacarpophalangeal joints hurt.

Tech tried to pretend he wasn't bothered by his inability to use his hands, and he thought he had succeeded in hiding his frustration from Hunter and Wrecker, only for both to spend more of their time beside him. Tech hadn't left the medical bay in the weeks since his brothers had rescued him due, as Suture had snapped with his usual cold tone of voice, to his lack of nutrition and compromised body - and he hated his immobility

Tech was bored out of his mind being stuck in the medical bay, made only worse by the fact he could not tinker on projects or scroll through data on his datapad, and his brothers were the only source of relief for Tech now. He released a sigh and stared a hole into the ceiling, listening for the crackle of electricity as he judged the dimensions of the room - anything to distract himself.

The hiss of hydraulics and the light tread of boots announced the arrival of one of Tech's brothers, though Tech did not bother to look at Hunter's approach. He was used to Hunter checking in on him every night-

"We need to talk, Tech."

Tech jolted at the sharp growl of Crosshair, his head snapping to his left where Crosshair was pulling up a chair beside Tech's bed. Crosshair looked exhausted, his eyes red and bloodshot, and even his silver hair was mussed and unkept, though Tech noticed that Crosshair was trying to smile as he looked down at Tech.

"Crosshair," Tech greeted, hoping that his brother could hear the relief in Tech's voice as he looked at his brother.

Crosshair stared down at Tech, eyes shifting over his frame as he hesitated momentarily, then reached out and squeezed Tech's right hand gently.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you," Crosshair breathed, his golden eyes dark with pain as Crosshair met Tech's gaze. "I'd hated you for so many years, I didn't know what to do when I stopped hating you, Tech. That's what broke me out from the chip… all I remember is you watching as the Kaminoans held me down and the Empire enhanced my chip. All I could think of for years was how you betrayed me, betrayed us, and I never thought that I could not hate you…"

Tech shook his head in answer and sighed, only for Crosshair to tighten his grip on Tech's hand and growl lowly at him. Tech looked towards Crosshair, noting the quiet sorrow inside his brother's eyes as Crosshair glared at him, though his gaze held no venom in it.

"I thought that you had turned on us of your own choice, Tech, even when I learned about the inhibitor chips. I convinced myself you were too smart to be controlled by the inhibitor chip, especially with everything you had made for the Empire. After I removed Hunter's chip, he was the one who convinced me that your actions had come from the inhibitor chip. I didn't want to believe him, and I didn't until we started to hear about the problem you were causing the Empire," Crosshair smirked slightly, though his amusement lasted only for a moment before the sniper's jaw clenched shut.

Crosshair looked down, his eyes shifting to Tech's hand before he released his hold on Tech and shifted so that Tech could no longer see his brother's face. Tech moved his arm towards Crosshair and tried to grasp Crosshair's arm, only for his fingers to fail him and leave him to scramble uselessly at Crosshair.

Crosshair stiffened as Tech touched him, his head shifting only slightly to look towards Tech as he retracted his hand from Crosshair and looked away from his brother's intense gaze. "I cannot express how much I regret my actions in capturing all of you," Tech exhaled, "I had been tasked to stop you from escaping Kamino. I… I thought you were leaving me behind and I thought that capturing you would protect all of you from the Empire's wrath… I apologize, Crosshair, and I understand your anger towards me."

Tech shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he scooted up against the headboard of his bed, trying not to look at Crosshair as he did. Crosshair had once been Tech's best friend, the only one of Tech's brothers who he felt comfortable talking openly with, but that old friendship was not one Tech expected to ever reconcile.

Hunter and Wrecker had assured Tech that they had forgiven him, that they too understood how powerful the inhibitor chip's control had over them, and that both of Tech's oldest brothers still loved him. Tech's mistakes were not his fault implicitly, not when Hunter continued to remind him that he had followed the Empire because of his inhibitor chip - and that Tech had no capacity to fight his inhibitor chip.

Tech didn't have Crosshair's rage, not to the level that had helped Crosshair break from his chip early. Tech had found the Empire's praise and interest in his intelligence and inventive mind intoxicating, and the inhibitor chip had willed pure obedience from Tech towards the Empire. There was no possibility of Tech fighting the inhibitor chip, not after the Empire had increased his chip's intensity every week for seven years.

He'd had no choice than to obey, and Tech's many sleepless hours on the Jedi Cruiser where his brothers had found refuge, had left him with time to contemplate everything he'd done in the name of the Empire. The list was far too long for even Tech to stomach thinking about, but with nothing but his restless mind to distract himself, Tech had nothing more than to think about who he was.

His thoughts consumed Tech, making him oblivious to everything around him until, with a hesitance that made the touch almost unnoticeable, Crosshair grabbed Tech's shoulder. Tech startled from his thoughts as Crosshair's grip tightened on his shoulder, then looked towards his brother curiously.

"I'm not angry with you anymore, Tech," Crosshair admitted as he smiled at Tech, the smile softening Crosshair's golden eyes as he looked at Tech. "I'm just.. Relieved to have you back, little brother."

Tech stared at Crosshair, taken completely aback by his brother's admittance. He had convinced himself so strongly that Crosshair could never forgive him, that hearing that old, familiar rough affection in Crosshair's voice made him pause.

It wasn't possible… Was it?

"Why are you willing to forgive me, Crosshair?"

Tech had to know, had to see the truth in Crosshair's stance, had to judge for himself whether his brother meant what he'd said. A part of Tech resisted his desire to believe Crosshair, if only because Tech did not believe he was worthy of forgiveness from his brother, and Tech hated the tremor in his voice as he spoke.

Crosshair's eyes narrowed slightly before Tech's brother stood and turned to face Tech completely, his stance fierce and rigid with a determination that seemed so much like Crosshair. "Because you are my brother, Tech, and we always promised to support each other no matter what."

Before Tech realized what was happening, Crosshair climbed onto Tech's bed in front of him and suddenly hugged him, his lanky brother's arms wrapping around him as Crosshair leaned his head against Tech's shoulder and sighed. Tech blinked, dumbstruck by his brother's affectionate display, then slowly raised his arms and hugged Crosshair in turn.

Crosshair let out a deep sigh as he leaned his chin on Tech's shoulder, though not quickly enough for Tech to miss the tears that slipped from his brother's eyes. Tech blinked, stunned by the sight of Crosshair crying, then leaned into Crosshair with a weary sigh.

The last time Tech had ever seen Crosshair cry was when they were cadets, and the mere realization of the fact that Crosshair was allowing himself to be so vulnerable around Tech - whom Crosshair had hated for years - only made Tech certain that his brother had meant everything he'd said.

If Crosshair, who had broken from the Empire's control out of his sheer hatred for Tech, could forgive Tech - and allow himself to show such a vulnerable state as crying in front of Tech - then was there a chance Tech could forgive himself for what he'd done with the Empire?

"Crosshair?" Tech didn't dare speak louder than a whisper as he buried his face into Crosshair's chest, the warmth from his brother comforting as Crosshair grunted in quiet response. Tech hesitated before he spoke, his chest tightening with worry before Tech braced himself and sighed. "Do you believe that I could ever make up for what I did under the Empire? That I could… forgive myself?"

Crosshair pulled back from Tech, his eyes shining with shed tears as he looked Tech in the eyes, a scowl twitching across his mouth for a brief second. "You already were before the Empire caught you, Tech. That's when I realized that you were still in there… that my brother was still alive."

Tech pondered Crosshair's statement as Crosshair moved beside him and spread his legs out, his left shoulder pressing against Tech as if the sniper wanted to remind Tech that he was next to him. Crosshair didn't say much more as he leaned on Tech, though his presence was more than enough for Tech.

Some old instinct had Tech look at Crosshair for a long moment then, with a hesitance he did not particularly enjoy, Tech started to ramble. He noticed Crosshair perk up when Tech began a dissertation on Wild Space and its many stars and nebulas, and soon Tech had settled into the old rhythm of talking while Crosshair listened.

Only when Tech felt Crosshair's head slump against his shoulder, and heard Crosshair's breathing ease into near silence, did he finally stop talking, though a smile tugged at the corners of Tech's mouth as he looked at his brother. Crosshair had fallen asleep on him, his expression surprisingly relaxed, and Tech did not dare to move.

Crosshair had forgiven Tech somehow, and his forgiveness had been what Tech had been desperately searching for. Wrecker and Hunter had assured Tech that they did not need to forgive him, and so that only left Tech.

He knew exactly what he had done for the Empire, and knew that he had attempted to rectify his mistakes. The chip had influenced Tech's actions for fourteen years, and had stolen his freedom of choice and stripped him of his morals.

Tech had a long way to go until he believed that he could ever repent for the sins he had committed in creating weapons for the Empire, but he had made a start before he'd been captured by the Imperial Science Bureau. Determination set into Tech as he raised his right arm and, desperate for anything, tried to clench his fingers into a fist.

Pain shot through Tech's wrist as his fingers failed to respond, his repeated failures to be able to do anything with his hands making frustration seeth through his body. Tech could not stand idly by while Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker fought the Empire. He had to find a way to assist his brothers and the rest of the Rebellion, no matter the state of his ruined hands.

There were ways he could make himself useful, even if he could not directly design or work on weapon improvements himself. Hunter and Wrecker had assured Tech that he was more than just what Tech could create and, though Tech wanted to believe his brothers, he could not. Not after every single one of his failures in physical therapy led to Tech feeling thoroughly insecure about himself.

Tech had used his hands and brilliant mind for the Empire for too long and, now that he had finally broken free and could see everything he'd done, Tech had lost the ability to invent for a good cause. Vanderbilt had known exactly what he was doing when he'd cut into Tech's hands and rendered them inoperable… Tech was only glad that his brothers had found him before Vanderbilt had cut out his larynx, for losing his ability to speak, along with losing the functionality of his hands, would have left Tech with nothing.

Nothing but for his brothers, and Tech could not imagine how he could ever have been able to make his brothers understand how much he regretted his actions if he could not speak - and could not rely on his hands to sign to speak with them.

Tech curled into himself, unhappy with his train of thoughts, and buried himself as close to Crosshair as he could. His mind ran through ideas desperately, searching for the answer to his inability to be useful, until Tech finally was too exhausted to think and fell asleep on Crosshair.


"No, that equation is incorrect. Do you wish to cause a catastrophic meltdown in the ion engines? I did remind you to account for the speed of the craft, did I not?"

Tech glowered at Echo as he paced around the man, frustration spiking through Tech as Echo shot him a glare.

"I figured for everything you told me to, Tech, but it is impossible to concentrate with your constant pacing and grumbling," Echo retorted shortly as he dropped the datapad he'd been working on, and crossed his arms over his chest.

The fingers of Echo's right hand, a cybernetic implant, tapped at his arm irritably, and Echo's scowl was more pronounced than usual. Tech rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead and sighed, frustrated anger deflating into a quiet misery.

When Tech had suggested that he could help his brothers by logging every single thought and idea he had in his head to help the Rebellion, albeit with help transcribing his thoughts onto a datapad, Hunter had jumped at the chance to make Tech work with Echo. Tech didn't remember Echo - his medical record he'd downloaded from Kamino stated numerous mind wipes, including one to remove all memory of Echo from Tech's mind - and he had been somewhat reluctant to work with the former member of the Bad Batch.

Echo had suffered for fourteen years as a human-cyborg neural interface for the Empire and, though Tech had been the one to rescue Echo, Tech still felt a nervousness around Echo. Echo listened to Tech orate and wrote down every single one of Tech's ideas without complaint, but Tech still felt as if he was a bother to the man.

Tech had tried, through months of intensive physical therapy and countless surgeries to lessen the scar tissue in his hands, to improve the motor function of his hands. He'd forced himself to strengthen his hands - ignoring the agony that each exercise put him through - and had regained enough to be able to curl his fingers but nothing more.

He'd almost broken down in tears when Suture had finally shaken his head and, with a defeated sigh the Chief Medical Officer could not hide, stated that there was nothing more he could do for Tech. Tech's brothers had tried their best to comfort him, but Tech had shoved them away and found the darkest corner of the Jedi Cruiser to hide in.

It had taken Crosshair glaring at him to break Tech from his misery, though Crosshair's glare had rapidly turned into sharp worry when he'd noticed Tech crying. Tech still felt ashamed with himself for crying over something as selfish as his ineptitude, but Crosshair had not seen it that way. Crosshair had sat down beside Tech and stayed beside him, left hand rested easily on Tech's shoulder until Tech finally had felt himself calm down.

His brothers had become ever more watchful of Tech after Crosshair had finally convinced Tech to return to the Havoc Marauder, where Crosshair slept every night, and it had been Hunter who had finally convinced Tech to try to find a solution to his feeling of uselessness. When Tech had finally - grumpily - admitted to the idea of working with someone else to chart down his ideas, Hunter had smiled so warmly that Tech had to double take.

Hunter, clearly, had been waiting months for Tech to get to a point where Hunter could force him and Echo to work together. Echo remembered Tech but Tech, to his utter annoyance, remembered nothing of the man.

Learning to work with Echo, who kept quiet usually but was never afraid to tell Tech when he thought one of his ideas needed an adjustment or to be completely scrapped, was difficult. Tech did not dislike Echo, he just… felt responsible for the man's near deathly state.

Echo had taken months to recover from fourteen years of forced stasis, and he was confined to the Jedi Cruiser because of his continued sickly health. Tech could never look at Echo and not see the man when he'd been strung to thousands of leads inside the data center of the Imperial Navy, couldn't see anything but a man tortured for years because of Tech's inhibitor chip.

"Tech, I understand why Hunter wants us working together, but it's hard when you take your frustration out on me," Echo suddenly sighed, drawing Tech's gaze down to where Echo was watching him, eyes narrowed and devoid of any readable emotion.

Tech flinched at Echo's statement, his chest aching with guilt as he sat down beside Echo and pulled the discarded datapad away from Echo. "I apologize for being snappy, Echo," Tech muttered as he forced himself to meet Echo's gaze, "my behavior is, and has been, wholly uncalled for of late."

"No," Echo growled with a shake of his head, moments before he reached out and gently squeezed Tech's shoulder, "I understand. I know you don't remember it, but I could be pretty grouchy the first few weeks after you guys rescued me from Skako Minor. I was coming to terms with what had happened to me, what the Techno Union had made me, and I understand why you are so frustrated."

"It is still of an uncouth manner for me to be so snappy when you are helping me," Tech grumbled, though his frustration at himself was fading at Echo's words, "you are here by Hunter's orders, and I have been nothing but short-tempered with you."

Echo pinched at the bridge of his nose, then let out a low chuckle that loosened the stiffness within Echo's shoulders. "Hunter suggested we work together and I agreed because I wanted to help you, Tech. You are my little brother after all, no matter what the Empire did to us. You saved me on Skako Minor, and you saved me from the Empire. You are frustrated because you have to rely on me to feel like you are helping your brothers, aren't you?"

Tech flinched at the directness of Echo's question, as he had never excelled at talking about himself with others. He lowered his head and stared at the datapad Echo had been cataloguing Tech's ideas into, then relented and nodded reluctantly.

"You are not incorrect in your assumption on the basis of my frustration, Echo," Tech admitted slowly, "as I have always…"

Tech paused and worked at his jaw, uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking him to. He had valued himself on his intelligence and what he could bring to his brothers in means of inventions, repairs and when he used to be able to fly his ship, but all of that was moot for Tech now. Though Tech still had an exceptional mind, and vast memory - no matter how many mind wipes the Kaminoans had put him through to further curate Tech to the Empire's demands -, he did not know how to exhibit that intelligence in a way that was deemed useful to his brothers.

The only method Tech had left was to take Echo's time and collaborate with the man, and Tech hated having to bother Echo because of his useless, worthless hands. Tech dug his fingers into the table, wanting to feel the pain that always shot through his wrists when he did, then turned to Echo.

Echo's eyes shifted slightly as Tech looked at Echo, then smiled reassuringly towards Tech. "I know. We all know that you believe we only value you off what you can do for us, but that's not why your brothers love you. They have loved you since you met because you are their brother, and the glue that keeps the Batch together. Wrecker, Hunter and Crosshair aren't the same with you. I saw the difference in them once they rescued you, and there is irrefutable evidence that they love you for you, Tech."

Tech felt Echo shift closer to him then, with a gentleness that was achingly familiar to Hunter's, Echo placed his left hand on Tech's shoulder. Echo stayed beside Tech, never speaking as Tech battled with his thoughts and self-doubt - and applied everything his brothers had told him over the months since he had been pulled from the Imperial prison.

Hunter had been adamant from the very day Tech had woken up in supporting Tech, and he had never once been angry at Tech. Not about Tech's inability to help his brothers, or in the role Tech had played in capturing and forcing his brothers into slavery under the Empire. Hunter was always finding time in the day to talk to Tech before and after missions, and Hunter always seemed relieved to see Tech no matter Hunter's mood.

Wrecker… ever reliable Wrecker, loved Tech and had made no effort to hide how excited he was whenever he swooped Tech into a hug. Tech's oldest brother never talked about the Empire, except once when Wrecker had turned to Tech and told him that he had to stop blaming himself. Tech had tried to argue with Wrecker, only for Wrecker to scowl and bury Tech in a warm hug that calmed Tech's nerves and quickly lulled him to sleep.

Even Crosshair, always so adamant and strong in his convictions, loved Tech, and the sniper had long made it clear that he'd forgiven Tech. And Crosshair had displayed his old aggressive concern for Tech over the last months, a shadow that hovered over Tech and growled threats at anyone who cast a mildly suspicious look towards Tech.

Wrecker, Hunter and Crosshair never mentioned the fact Tech couldn't join them on missions, and always seemed to make an effort to talk to him when his guilt and self-loathing overpowered Tech. Tech understood and had accepted that the actions he had taken for the Empire were related to the inhibitor chip, and not fully his own choice.

If Tech could accept that, then he could… accept that his brothers loved him for who Tech was, and not what he made for his brothers. Tech would always be frustrated at the loss of functionality in his hands, but he knew that his brothers loved him no matter his disability - his brothers even seemed to love him more now.

"Echo?"

"Yes, brother?"

"Do…" Tech swallowed nervously, then sent a small smile to Echo, one that Echo responded to brightly, "do you wish to continue helping me today?"

"Always, Tech," Echo said as he nudged Tech in the side and took the datapad from where Tech had attempted to stash it away.

Tech listened as Echo suggested improvements to their study of the Jedi Cruiser's ion engines, a faint sense of happiness warming his chest as he fell into a comfortable debate between himself and Echo on the structure of ion engines. Even Echo cared about him, no matter how often they argued over semantics on designs, and Tech appreciated that about the man.

He still had so much to make up for, but at least Tech had his brothers and their love. With them, Tech had the strength to face his guilt and become more than the monster the inhibitor chip had made him. When Tech had captured his brothers, he'd believed that he was saving them, but it was Tech's brothers who had saved him.

The very least Tech could do in turn was believe them when they continued to tell him they loved him, no matter what he thought of whether he deserved it or not. Knowing that his brothers loved him did not mean that he was free to ignore what he'd become, or what he'd done, and it was those thoughts that made him fight so hard to repent for the crimes he'd committed in his years under the Empire.

The road to redemption, if Tech even deserved that chance, was long and one he'd have to take with his brother's support - but Tech was determined to try, nonetheless.