Chapter 16

…

Echo had taken several flights to and from Kamino since his implant's activation. It was always in small ships like this, and he had expected that after nearly a year, he would be used to these days of silence and solitude. But it hadn't been truly silent in his head for a long time.

RC-7721 and 7722 were in the pilot's seats. Echo sat in the back with the other commandos, and there was no steady stream of information, no presence of the other four in his mind. His memories of when they had been one entity still felt vaguely foreign, and in that sense his present self felt more closely tied to the moment when he'd first awoken to a world of one-way sensory input, no voice, no vision, no way to connect or interact with anyone.

He'd talked to the commandos several times since leaving Anaxes, but never for very long. Now, staring at them and contemplating the moment when they would all become one unfeeling mind again, he realized why.

"Sir," said one of the commandos. Echo thought it was RC-7724—it was so disconcerting not to know for sure, even though it didn't matter that much. To speak to them felt in some ways like touching one's own numbed hand, mistaking it for someone else's. "We will arrive at Tipoca City in approximately thirty minutes."

"Ah," Echo said. His voice was extra hoarse from not speaking for hours. He paused, dreading the end of the journey, the return to the confinement of the lab. It was so hard to focus, but he needed to be prepared. "Doctor Sa Eno will want to run tests right away… and ask for details on how the connection between us was disrupted."

"And we're to volunteer that information, sir?"

"Yes," Echo confirmed uneasily. "But omitting anything having to do with the Chancellor or Rex's accusations. She should understand that some things are classified by Republic Intelligence. And with any luck, she'll only be interested in the technical problems we faced."

"And if she isolates you for further experiments?"

Echo took a deep breath. "If she works on integrating my chip with the implant… you should try to gather as much data on the process as you can. Maybe you'll learn something about how to disable it."

"Yes, sir," said 7724 after a pause.

They returned to silence. Echo tried to tell himself that returning to what he had been before the malfunction would be a relief. He would be free of emotion, any sensation of loss or fear. Being able to mull over what had brought him to this point was only getting more painful the longer he was conscious of himself. But to be insensible and without will was the same as being dead.

"Helmets off," he commanded on impulse.

Without hesitation, 7724 and 7723 removed their helmets and set them on their knees. They were identical, of course, no distinguishing hairstyles or tattoos or scars. But Echo was fairly confident who they each were. They looked at him expectantly, and in that moment he saw them as the children they had been not long ago: smaller, eyes wider and full of doubt as their faces tilted up at him. Their trembling had faded like a brief technical hiccup when they became extensions of his body.

He didn't know what to say. Would an apology mean anything?

"Are you alright with this plan?" he asked instead.

"Sir?" asked RC-7724.

"I'm asking a lot from you," Echo realized. "All of you. I'm asking you to lie to Sa Eno, possibly as one of your last actions before I… before I take command again." It sounded so normal… not at all the horror that it was, to be completely at the mercy of another person, overwhelmed and erased.

"Yes, sir," said RC-7723 firmly. "Everything will be back to normal efficiency soon."

"Normal efficiency?" Echo whispered, feeling sick. He turned to RC-7724. "Do you agree with him?"

RC-7224 blinked twice and glanced at RC-7723, then back to Echo. "It is a fact, sir. Isn't it? Unless…." His brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Doctor Sa Eno decides to separate us from you permanently."

"You've all proven that you can function without me controlling your actions." Echo sighed, his voice turning bitter. "Maybe I can convince her to let you remain independent. But I doubt she'll agree to it. That would defeat the purpose of her project. I'm sorry."

"Sir, you are our base unit," RC-7723 said. "We weren't meant to operate without your direction."

"But don't you want to?" Echo got up and walked toward the pilot seats. "Wouldn't you rather be in control of your own bodies? You've been monitoring me for days, making sure to keep me alive even though I—from the beginning, I've treated you like you're not even real people! Why do you care? I know you're all different. You may be linked but you're still individuals! I'm not going to pretend I haven't realized that. Maybe in front of the doctor, but not when we're talking face to face."

RC-7722 looked up from the controls, craning his neck to meet Echo's eyes. "We function best with your direction, sir," he said simply. "How can we reach our full potential as a squad without you directing us?" Echo saw nothing but absolute trust in his eyes, and it scared him.

"You functioned just as well when I was out of commission," Echo insisted. "Better, even! Your potential isn't being fulfilled—it's being wasted. In a real squad, everyone has different strengths, and that makes them greater than they would be on their own. But you—we—we're five soldiers shrunk down into one droid!"

"A specialized unit like ours requires only a narrow focus of strengths," said RC-7724 from behind him. "We functioned well in Drann because we had Captain Rex to direct us. And he also agreed that we needed you at the head of our unit."

"We," Echo sighed. What was the use in getting them to admit that they wanted freedom? Perhaps they didn't. And they would be happier for not wanting it.

"Diode Squad is not complete without you, sir," said RC-7721 softly, staring at his own hands resting lightly on the console. "We were made to work as one."

"That's not true," Echo groaned, pressing his fist into his forehead. "It's not me at the head of your squad. It's someone else. It's a machine. Not Echo."

"Sir," RC-7723 broke in sharply. "You are our commanding officer. We are all in agreement. We look forward to having you back in command. It doesn't seem likely that you will lose all interest in preventing the conspiracy once your implant is restored. Our purpose is to protect the Republic at all costs."

"Are you alright, sir?" asked RC-7724.

Echo pulled his hands away from his eyes; the faces around him were bleary.

"You're all different," he sighed wearily. "Seven-Seven-Two-One, you almost never volunteer to speak, but you're always watching the rest of us when we do." RC-7721 twisted suddenly in his chair to look up at him, seeming startled. "And you," Echo said to RC-7722. "You took the initiative to ask me about Rex's suicide mission. You asked questions about General Skywalker. No one else did that."

RC-7722's face fell into an odd, thoughtful expression.

"Seven-Seven-Two-Three, this conversation seems to be making you uncomfortable," Echo observed, desperate for some sign that he wasn't just imagining all of this.

A corner of RC-7723's mouth turned down. "You forget we are still monitoring your brain waves. I am merely distressed by your distress. It will soon be corrected."

"You're right." Echo leaned against the wall of the crowded cockpit, feeling defeated. "Hopefully, once she realizes that the chip is what's keeping us from reconnecting, she'll remove it."

Raging against his fate was no good, and wouldn't help him help Rex. These children had learned long ago that to embrace it was the only option. He would have to learn the same—for the sake of the Republic… for Rex and Fives.

By the time the ship began to break through Kamino's atmosphere, Echo's stomach and throat felt even more raw and hollow than usual. Although RC-7723 and RC-7724 went back to their seats, he stayed standing behind the other two, watching the roiling mass of dark grey splattering water against the ship as they descended through layers and layers of clouds. Then the turbulent ocean beneath slowly became distinguishable from the rain falling into it, and Tipoca City was the only thing which kept its shape, growing brighter and closer until they settled down onto the landing pad.

"A smooth landing," Echo said.

"Thank you, sir," said RC-7722, and Echo wondered sadly whether the young commando felt any pride in the compliment, apart from the most rudimentary absence of friction between what was commanded and what had been done. That was the only thing even resembling satisfaction Echo could remember feeling while his implant was fully functional.

He and the others donned their helmets and opened the ship's ramp to the gale. The wind flung sheets of rain halfway up his legs before he'd even set foot on the landing platform. Silent under the roar of water on all sides, the five of them crossed to the nearest city entrance.

Sa Eno was waiting for them just inside. Even if she hadn't been wearing her usual green lab outfit, there was no way Echo could mistake her face after seeing it stare down at him so often. And now he was still looking up at her, even standing on his feet. Her gaze rested on his chest, and he realized she was looking at the hand print he'd recently repainted there.

"Ahh," she exclaimed with soft concern when the door shut. "When I heard your implant malfunctioned, I feared the worst. Are all your sensory modules operational? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Doctor," Echo said, and took off his dripping helmet. "As far as I know, all my physical processes are functioning normally."

With long white fingers, she touched his head where it met the implant, circling behind him. "There was no damage to the hardware? I was given so very little information about this, and you've been gone for so long. We must return to the lab so I can run a full diagnostic."

"Yes, Doctor," Echo sighed as she gently steered him forward by the shoulders. He heard the commandos fall into step behind.

"Are you having trouble breathing again?"

"No," Echo said hurriedly. "No, I'm fine…."

"You sound short of breath. Are you sure your support systems are undamaged?"

"They are undamaged, Doctor," said one of the commandos, startling Echo. "We have been keeping tabs on them ever since the incident."

She stopped—Echo looked up to see her blinking her wide, dark eyes at the one who had spoken. "You have been?"

RC-7724 continued. "We have established a one-way link up with Echo's implant—" Sa Eno's head tilted sharply "—in order to prevent the conflict which originally triggered the malfunction. Some of his nonessential functions are being limited as well."

"Incredible. The implications of what you just said…!" Her voice was startled, but she spoke in that same peculiarly methodical way all Kaminoans did. "You are saying that the four of you have, in effect, taken administrative powers of the network upon yourselves? You are now in control of… Echo's implant?"

It felt wrong to hear her say his name. Echo realized he had never used it in front of her. The squad hesitated. "Yes, Doctor."

"Who directed you to do this?" She didn't sound upset… merely curious.

"Anyone we could have taken orders from was out of commission. The circumstances demanded we take charge."

"I see!" She again began shepherding Echo down the pristine hallway, long neck curved slightly to the left in an intrigued posture. "Perhaps this crisis you faced is the key to understanding all potential uses of your programming." Her voice was taking on a fascination Echo remembered all too well. "As I thought, it only required the proper stimulus! Or perhaps it was the prolonged exposure to a clear and accessible model of leadership to emulate…."

When neither the commandos nor Echo replied, Sa Eno lapsed into a restless silence, rubbing one finger under her chin as she often did whenever gripped by a puzzle in his design. She did not speak again until they were just outside the lab.

"You haven't told me what triggered this malfunction in the first place."

"A computer virus—" one of the commandos began.

"—a virus?" Sa Eno's wide eyes grew even wider.

"Yes, Doctor, but it's also a lot more complicated than that," Echo said in a rush, trying not to stare at the door as she opened it.

"How so?" She ushered him inside with the gentle, insistent pressure of her hand, and in single file he and his squad walked in. The surgical tables, the glowing hologram-equipped computer terminals, the precise dimensions of the place with its partitions between work areas—all of it was too familiar and brought an onslaught of memories, of clutching to the edge of the desk there, relearning how to walk. Echo found the exact place he'd fell on his face the first time and let his eyes rest there, although there was no mark on the floor to distinguish it. But most of all there was a kind of difference in air pressure, just on the edge of smell or hearing—perhaps it was the exact configuration of radio waves coming from the electronics around him—an impression of being here, just here with nowhere else ever existing.

"How is it complicated?" Sa Eno repeated, stepping into his field of vision.

Echo jerked out of his daze and tried to remember what he was going to say.

"The virus merely triggered a defense reaction against other systems," one of the commandos volunteered after waiting a beat. "Control was then transferred to a separate chip in his brain, which caused him to become unresponsive… and to misinterpret orders."

Sa Eno was looking more and more perturbed. "In what way?"

Echo swallowed, although it did nothing to ease the dryness in his throat. "I… took violent action against civilians I was ordered to clear from the battle zone."

"It was not a conscious decision," said the commando. "Once the chip relinquished control, we detected no aggressive impulses."

"I see…." Sa Eno looked disturbed, glancing at each of them in turn. "Why don't you—" she paused awkwardly. "Why don't the five of you put your armor away? Then we can review your performance and begin the tests." She turned toward the computer terminal by the middle table—his bed, Echo thought dully to himself. So many hours he had spent on it.

Together they walked to their special unit quarters just down the hall. Echo stole glances at the squad as they removed their armor, and they occasionally returned his gaze impassively. He wondered what they were thinking. There was only the dull sound of friction as they stowed each piece in their cabinets and changed into their numbered fatigues. This had been Echo's room for about a year, and for much of that time he had shared it with Diode Squad. But in most of his memories, hooked together as they were, it still felt as empty as if he slept there alone.

They finished before him, but stood still facing him, waiting for him to leave the room first. It was habit, he suspected. As he walked past them and through the door, they fell into step behind him, single-file.

"Unit Zero," commanded Sa Eno, motioning to the bed. "Or… should I call you Echo, now? Who gave you that nickname?"

Echo sat and then lay on the table at her silent urging, watching her face as she hooked his implant up to the computer. That ceiling….

"My batchers. The cadets I trained with called me Echo." Fives and Hevy flashed in his mind's eye, frustrated, yelling at him. Shut up, Echo! He looked away from the ceiling; Diode Squad stood near the foot of the bed, staring at him.

"Is there any particular reason you've instructed the others to call you by it now?"

"I didn't…." Echo felt something shift in his head, like the hum of an extra motor just below his hearing. "The captain we served under remembered me from when I went by it. They must have picked it up from him."

"I see." Her tone of voice changed back to her usual directness. "It seems the program which keeps your emotional processes in balance is offline, as well as nearly all your analytical and connectivity functions. I thought as much from your behavior. I'm going to try to restore it and the rest of your systems, but before I do, I'd like you to upload your memories of the missions you were on, starting with the latest one."

"Echo was not conscious for much of our mission to Anaxes, and Republic Intelligence ordered us to keep our mission confidential," said RC-7723, before Echo could make himself speak. "But we shall transfer our memories related to his malfunction. They are more complete than Echo's. Uploading now."

Sa Eno sighed and gave them a disapproving look. "Curious. Did you appoint a temporary leader of the squad in Unit Zero's absence?" Her slight vocal stress on his lab designation felt like a weight on Echo's chest.

"No Doctor, not formally. We chose a spokesperson in order to communicate more effectively with our Captain, once Echo—once Unit Zero was disconnected from us."

"And were you that spokesperson… Unit Three?" She looked at the number on his fatigues.

"At one point. At another point it was… RC-Seven-Seven-Two-Two."

"Based on proximity to the Captain, I suspect?"

"I'm not sure, Doctor." RC-7723 stiffened a little.

"You don't know the cause behind your own actions?"

"It was largely subconscious and random, I suspect."

"You suspect?"

"I speak for the unit. We made the decision of who would speak without conscious deliberation."

"Interesting. " She turned back to the computer terminal by Echo's head and called up the files.

Echo could hear the audio from a portion of one of their earlier missions for Republic Intelligence, and for the first few minutes, he listened, pretending the emotionless voice in the recording belonged to some other clone. It wasn't hard. He zoned out as he stared up at that ceiling, so blank and smooth but for two tiny scratches. For so many hours he had tried to focus intently on the soft shadows cast by the arching support beams, to find something in their shape that would take him away from his ruined body and the endless tests.

It was those shadows—grey on pearly white—that he had woken up to so many times, his first reminder that he was alive and forever altered. As his vision had slowly regenerated with the help of the implant, he had finally noticed the scratches, and wondered if he imagined them. Where had they come from? There had been times when the only thing he could bear to think about was those two scratches, imagining every bizarre situation which could have brought them into existence. Perhaps one of Sa Eno's rarely-seen assistants had gotten frustrated one day and thrown something in the air. Perhaps they been there from the beginning, relics left by a clumsy construction crew, from one of their tools or while trying to fit one of the large machines that lined the wall behind his bed.

For a moment Echo heard his own breath become shallow and was overcome by the sensation of oxygen tubes running down into his lungs, attached to a mask pressing tight into his face, with restraints strapped over his chest and legs. He was trapped.

But he wasn't. When he lifted his hand to reassure himself, Sa Eno glanced sharply at him.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Nothing." Echo took a deep breath and closed his eyes, putting the hand over his heart. "Nothing. I just…."

She paused the video and checked the readings on his implant. "No notable changes…."

"Unit Zero is disturbed by the fact that his normal processing functions were overridden by this chip," said RC-7723. "We would all prefer to be re-integrated as soon as possible."

"Well, alright." Sa Eno said, smiling a little. She turned back to the screen she'd been watching. "Show me the file from when this chip first took control."

Echo heard the dialogue, familiar at first, then moving beyond his memory after a short pause.

"It's coming from here, alright. I can see it transmitting. It made its way through an old industrial sensor grid. But the actual program that's reproducing it is heavily encrypted and only accessible through this terminal's local network. Let me just see if we can bypass the encryption…. Beginning decryption."

"He's cut off."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I'm not in communication with him anymore."

"Echo."

The sound of Rex calling his name crept through Echo's veins as a numbing sense of helplessness.

"Did the security system kick him out?"

"I'm not sure. I can only access the most rudimentary processes of his implant now. Awaiting orders, sir."

"Echo!"

"Sir! We were instructed not to unseal our suits or else face radiation poisoning!"

"It's alright, kid. I don't think there is any radiation. At least not in here." A slapping sound. "Look at me, Echo. That's an order."

There was a pause, and then Sa Eno froze the recording. "Curious… if I re-create this situation, it could be useful in determining exactly how this happened, and how to prevent it in the future."

"It seems likely that if Unit Zero's functions are restored, the conflict will occur in exactly the same way. We had to temporarily disable the chip with a localized electrical pulse before we could regain control of the network."

For a moment Echo's body went cold in anticipation and his eyes opened, but she didn't move from her seat.

"Show me the file."

There was silence, followed by a quiet buzz and spark. Sa Eno frowned at the display and Echo wondered how far the squad would allow the file to play. After a few moments, the voices started again.

"Sir! Don't move."

"What's going on—where am I?"

Echo's stomach twisted at the confusion in his own voice. It was an odd sensation, listening to himself.

"Sir… are you alright?"

"W…."

"We're in Drann. How do you feel?"

"D… I killed… I killed Rex… When?"

Sa Eno's eyes widened and she paused the recording to look at him. "You did not tell me you killed your commanding officer." Her voice was quiet, breathy.

"I didn't," Echo half-whispered. "But I thought I did. I could have."

"And you have no memory of doing this?" She stood up.

"I do remember, but I was helpless to prevent it." Echo's throat felt tight and he stared up at her, silently pleading but without daring to even turn his thoughts into mental words.

"This chip… this… malfunction… is even more serious than I imagined," she sighed. "I suppose your stress symptoms are no surprise, especially considering the fact that your mental processes are unstable right now. I'm impressed you managed to complete the mission at all."

Echo hesitated, eyes downcast, hoping one of the others would answer for him. They did.

"We were severely delayed in completing the mission. Unit Zero was unable to assist after this point."

Sa Eno's smooth face contracted, the taut skin bunching around her eyes and forehead. "I see." Her voice was faint. "Well… our highest priority will be to fully restore your systems. There may yet be some way to prevent the conflict once I have an opportunity to analyze it."

"You're… going to let the chip override my implant?" Echo's skin prickled with dread.

"Yes."

"But," Echo said desperately, coming up on one elbow, "Doctor, this chip—the conflict with my implant could be dangerous, surely you realize—"

"You are unarmed," she said gently. "You cannot harm me. Besides, the other four will be here to protect me."

"Doctor," RC-7723 interrupted. "We have called up the video of when Unit Zero misinterpreted orders. For your own safety, we believe you should review it before proceeding. It may help you to prevent triggering any violence once his chip is activated."

Echo stared at RC-7723, startled, and the boy blinked back at him. What are you doing? Echo thought, and wondered if RC-7723 could still distinguish his thoughts clearly enough to understand. It was risky to show Sa Eno the Chancellor's order to him. There was a possibility she might know of the conspiracy and believe they knew too much. Rex ordered me not to give any sign that I suspect anything!

"Very well," Sa Eno sighed. "I am curious."

RC-7723 stared back at Echo intently, as if forgetting that Echo couldn't receive the direct communication they had shared before.

Sa Eno sat back down and played the video. The Chancellor's voice faded in.

"….is a direct order to give the destruction of this virus the highest priority. These Mrlssi must not be allowed to stand in your way. You must clear them from the area and destroy the virus by any possible means."

"It will be done."

Blaster fire rang out, followed by terrified inhuman shrieks. Echo squeezed his eyes shut even though the video was not playing within his line of vision. Still, the vague images from his memories surfaced anyway, blasting bright light through the skulls of the Mrlssi before turning his rifle on Rex, not once, but twice.

"There he is!"

"No, ECHO!"

Two shots, interrupted by Rex's choked screaming, so much worse to hear in the sterile quiet of the lab rather than his own clouded memories. Echo clenched his fists, his jaw as tight as the knot in his stomach and told himself that he hadn't killed him, he had saved him, but he didn't know that for sure—there was a chance Rex hadn't made it, that his plan to save him had failed.

The voices ended abruptly. Sa Eno breathed.

"How… disturbing," she whispered to herself, and Echo knew she hadn't missed the fact that his second shot at least had been deliberate. Seconds passed and he heard no further movement. At last he opened his eyes and turned them toward her. She was staring at him, her posture cautious.

"Please, Doctor Sa Eno," he whispered hoarsely. "I… I know you can find a way to make sure this never happens again."

Her eyes narrowed and for a terrifying moment he thought she was glaring at him; the solution would be to start over with another clone. But then she came closer and he realized the expression was a mixture of pity and determination.

"I will. But in order to do that, I must analyze the malfunction while it is actively occurring." She pushed him gently back onto his back and began strapping him to the table.

"What do you mean?" Echo creaked. Icy shocks of fear washed through him in waves. His hands felt numb. "You're going to try and get me to misinterpret orders again?"

"No, of course not." Sa Eno laughed nervously under her breath as she moved around behind him. "Hopefully, once I find a way to restore your systems without activating the chip, I will also know how to keep it from being activated by accident."

"Oh," Echo breathed in relief. "Right…."

The squad fanned out a little from where they were bunched at the foot of the bed as Sa Eno moved to strap his legs down too. RC-7723 and 7721 took a small step closer to him and stayed there even when the Doctor had gone back to her computer.

He looked up at them, wondering how often they had been this afraid, forced to trust him as he was forced to trust them now. All four seemed calm as ever, but as he looked between them, RC-7721's face held his attention. There was a shallow line between the young commando's eyebrows, and his eyes were half closed. To Echo, he looked sad, but he wondered if it was just the angle of his head, the shadows tricking him.

Without warning, he felt his conscious self die.

…

RC-7724 watched as Echo's eyes defocused, and felt his presence in their minds shrink, only accessible through the monitoring devices attached to the implant. He wondered if it would feel much different if one of the squad were to die. Would there be a greater shock to the network? When RC-7722 had been shot, it had been unpleasant and startling, but so was this.

Better not to think about it, they all thought. Sa Eno tapped the computer display, dragging her fingers along the screen to sift through the diagnostic readouts that they could already see clearly in their mind.

There was more information there than what the device in Drann had given them. Sa Eno's instruments had more processing power and were more precise. The four of them picked the data apart quickly, like a row of tangled stitches being pulled up by many needles in exactly the right order and place to unravel.

They could see it, hazily, the pattern of stimulation and repression, neural pathways filled or cleared sequentially to create commands in a programming code both like and unlike the one used by their own implants. They could see how it worked, the place—although it wasn't really a place—where the conflict with the implant's commands occurred and Echo's higher functions were blocked, but to explain it would take ages, like trying to give verbal directions alone on how to build an astromech.

"Doctor," RC-7723 said instead. "The firewall in our implants was designed to adaptively classify specific traits of aggressive foreign programs and block any program displaying those traits that it encounters in the future. I don't think it will be possible to make it mark the chip as safe, now that it has marked it as a danger. And… now that it's aware of the chip's existence, internal attempts to suppress it are only encouraging the chip to activate."

"Yes, I am aware of that," she sighed impatiently, half to herself, never taking her eyes off the screen. "I thought I had modified his programming enough to keep the chip undetectable. It is organic, after all, and while inactive it sends no commands the implant should be able to read. Apparently, telling the program it is a mere physical anomaly could only go so far."

"The chip is interpreting the very presence of the network as an incoming command. It seems it is designed to shut down the higher mental processes in such an event."

"Yes. Now, I'm trying to concentrate," Sa Eno said.

"Yes, Doctor. We—"

"Unless you have a—" Sa Eno interrupted, but she stopped and blinked at the data analysis the squad had just sent her. "Oh. I see."

They waited for her to read through it, and as the quiet minutes passed, RC-7724 wondered why the chips had been removed from them, but not from Echo. They knew better than to ask. She was already displeased, which made little sense. When they had been deployed, she had told them—told Echo, and thus, all of them—that they should take every opportunity to use their analytical abilities for the benefit of the Republic. That's what we're doing now, he thought. Perhaps she was worried they knew too much. Perhaps she was simply dismayed, as they all were, that Echo was not the one speaking.

He thought again of their conversation in the ship, when Echo had pointed out minute differences in their behavior. Echo's mental state was painful, but they didn't think it was so important to be distinguishable. Surrendering to his thoughts usually meant greater unity, safety and clarity of mind, a kind of confidence and purpose that was difficult to duplicate without him. Still, RC-7724 wondered, if Echo had said something about him as he had for the others, what would he have chosen as a distinguishing characteristic?

They looked at Echo's hands resting loosely on the bed. You are the hand, they are the fingers, Sa Eno had said once, and then corrected herself, amused, because hands have no mind of their own. But the analogy had its uses. Fingers were different dimensions and arranged in a certain order to best suit the purpose of the hand. RC-7724 knew he was separate from the others and had a specific place, and Echo recognized that too. But a finger on its own was not nearly as effective as the full set working together. Agreement surrounded him, like standing in a room full of mirrors.

They hoped Sa Eno would finish reviewing the data and make a decision soon. In the meantime, Echo's physical read outs played in their minds. They could see his vital signs, the commands from the implant to maintain his respiratory system, low-level brain activity, nervous system and sensory modules.

Beyond the room the flood emergency and security system webbed through the city. In hundreds of classrooms and training labs, educational programs were running. They could feel every right and wrong answer if they wanted to, and calculate the success rate for each batch. They could analyze data on the development of dozens and dozens of embryos, or check the score charts for various training exercises.

But somewhere in this vast network, there had to be some record of the chip's development, instructions for its installation and removal. Standing still, they carefully probed the database on Sa Eno's medical computer, the one that held their history. The security on it was fairly light, and they already had clearance to most everything in the cloning facility, but….

"The implant isn't responding to any of my overrides," Sa Eno growled under her breath. "I will have to disable the chip again…." Sa Eno straightened and stood, deliberate but slow. "Call a medical droid."

"Yes, Doctor," RC-7723 said, and transmitted the request immediately. "The droid is on its way."

While the droid was en route, they sent their data on the procedure to temporarily disable the chip. The droid requested more information, and they hesitated. It was possible the confidentiality of the chip was programmed into the medical droids on Kamino, and they would be reported if any inappropriate information was passed to them. But not likely, RC-7724 thought. They sent a small packet of information on the chip-implant conflict and its effects to the droid.

Sa Eno stood by Echo's head, her eyes narrowed in thought, her hands folded. They wondered sometimes what it would be like to know her thoughts as well. Would it make her commands less unsettling?

The door opened and the droid hovered in. "Hello, Doctor," it said in its chipper voice. "I have already been sent all necessary information. Is the patient ready for the procedure?"

"Yes," Sa Eno said hesitantly. She stood back. "Proceed."

The droid moved to Echo's head and extended a small attachment from inside its chassis, which hummed slightly as it was placed on Echo's skull.

RC-7724 and the others urgently sent more precise schematics of Echo's brain and the location of the chip. His brain waves were already dangerously weak—any mistake was unacceptable. The droid adjusted accordingly, by micrometers.

It only took a split-second pulse. Direct access to Echo flooded back, and they began checking and resetting his systems while he lay, his consciousness half-surfacing.

"The patient is stable," the droid said. "The device has been disabled. Doctor, may I ask if you plan to remove this chip?"

"What?" Sa Eno looked worried. "No… not unless it proves necessary. I only needed to disable it in order to regain access to his implant's defensive settings. I'm going to see if I can erase its knowledge of the chip."

RC-7724 wanted to speak, and so did the others, but whatever they said would need to be carefully phrased. They deliberated while she keyed in her commands. The droid moved to a corner out of the way.

"There," Sa Eno whispered. "That should do it."

"Doctor…" Echo's voice was weak and heightened to an odd pitch. He blinked at the ceiling and fear fizzed through their connection. They considered commanding him to sleep, so they wouldn't have to feel it. "Did you…."

"I've cleared your defensive programs of any knowledge of this chip. I'm about to fully restore your implant again."

Echo took a shuddering breath and RC-7724's body tensed painfully. Then the fear was gone as suddenly as it came, and so was Echo.

Sa Eno growled in a low frustrated exhale. "It didn't work. You can't force your way back into his system?"

"No, Doctor," RC-7723 said quietly.

"We'll have to try it again. There must be something I missed. Will the patient remain stable if we administer the shock again?"

"He has a good chance of survival, yes," the droid said. "I will be very precise. But repeating this cycle multiple times is not advised."

"Doctor," said RC-7723, the tension still not fully gone from their bodies. "We are going to come into contact with aggressive programs in the future, programs like the virus which induced this conflict in the first place. It's what we were made to do. Even if you can program his implant to ignore the chip now, there's a good chance the conflict will be reset as soon as we encounter another virus."

"What other option do I have?" Sa Eno sighed, slumped over her desk. "I've put too much time into this unit to simply discard him."

No. The thought of Echo being discarded was not acceptable. For a few seconds, options for what to say were brought up rapidly in their mind, most of them thrown out just as rapidly. The droid was also running through possible solutions, and all at once they reached out to it.

Wouldn't removing the chip be the surest way to save the patient?

The droid answered in the affirmative without hesitation.

"There must be some way to remove the conflict altogether," RC-7723 prompted.

Sa Eno looked conflicted.

"If we surgically remove the chip," the droid finally said, "there would be no opportunity for future conflict with the implant."

"That's true," RC-7723 said. "It does seem to be the simplest solution."

She looked at them both. For a moment, RC-7724 wondered, they all wondered, what she would do if they tried to stop her from euthanizing Echo. Or perhaps she would keep him alive, continue trying to pull apart the puzzle until the shocks to his system became too much. Either way, if they actively stood against her, her disapproval would only prevent them from finding the answers they'd been commanded to, by both Echo and Captain Rex.

"It is…." She frowned at the droid.

It was so hard to predict how she would respond—whether saying something more would tip the scales in their favor or have the opposite effect. They struggled, half certain they should try while RC-7724 and 7721 held back, urging patience. The conflict was unpleasant.

"I have no choice," Sa Eno whispered to herself.

RC-7724 stepped closer to Echo's head and the others did the same. It would do no good.

"I have no choice but to remove it."

The droid came forward. "Then let us disable it again before proceeding."

Everything was going to be alright. RC-7724 took a step back; the squad prepared to give support to Echo's systems the moment the network was restored.

As Echo struggled toward consciousness again, Sa Eno injected a sedative that would keep him unconscious for the duration of the surgery. It was a relief. Then the droid went to work, first cutting a small incision, then drilling a hole in the right side of Echo's skull.

They watched it insert a thread-thin wire into the hole, and their stomachs hurt. A self-diagnostic confirmed that this was an anxiety response. Probably residue from Echo's consciousness, they decided.

At long last the droid pulled the device free from Echo's skull, fastened a bulky corrective patch onto the open wound, and with the press of a few buttons, the chip was sucked into the attached vial, swirling in a haze of blood that slowly cleared.

"There it is," the droid said brightly. "His systems should be free of conflict now."

"Good. Dispose of that immediately," the doctor sighed.

"Doctor, perhaps we should preserve it for analysis, in case anything goes wrong."

"What do you think is going to go wrong?" she protested, but she looked worried. She took it from the droid and placed it in a small pocket on the pouch around her waist. "Alright. I'm initiating a full restoration of all systems."

Quickly, steadily, his presence filled their minds as he regained consciousness, and this time there was no fear, no discomfort, only a steady analysis of every new physical sensation as it happened, his eyes adjusting, his hearing restored. They felt his mind stretch out to them and beyond into the network of the city.

Sa Eno disconnected his implant from the manual link up. He sat up and all at once the connection was complete. He looked at the rest of him, their eyes staring back, and his memory slotted disparate pieces into one coherent timeline. The first step toward saving the Republic was complete. Now they could move on to the next phase.

"Can you stand?" Sa Eno asked. Echo stood to join the rest of him. "How are you feeling?"

"All systems are functioning perfectly, Doctor," he said. "Recommended command structure has been restored."

Sa Eno smiled. "Very good."

…

A/N: Thanks for reading, as always! Leave a comment as a way of thanking us if you're enjoying it! We run off those things.