Echo's return to consciousness was a gradual process. He knew it was happening, and was even vaguely aware that something had gone wrong with – well, something – and that was why he'd been unconscious, but those two realizations were about it. Within a few minutes, though, he had woken up enough to recognize three things. He was lying flat on his back in cold sand, his helmet was off, and his head hurt.
"Ow," he grunted, and finally tried to squint an eye open. That was a mistake, as it turned out, so he promptly closed it again.
"Echo?" whispered Wrecker's worried voice. "You awake?"
"Mm . . . and regretting it," Echo grumbled, and made a feeble attempt to sit up. It would have failed miserably, except that Wrecker got an arm behind his shoulders and heaved him upright.
"Thanks," said Echo, resting his hand and scomp in his lap as he opened his eyes again, this time with more success. He and Wrecker were in a small, low-ceilinged cave, and Wrecker had set up the small heat lamp a few meters away.
Echo blinked at it, because it sure didn't seem to be doing much good against the raw chill in the air. Then he remembered something vague and indefinite about being in danger. "Wrecker," he said, reaching towards the lamp. "Turn that off, we'll be seen."
"No, we won't." Wrecker pointed towards the other side of the cave. "Look."
Sure enough, the cave they were in opened into an uneven, rock-strewn tunnel, which disappeared around a bend.
"Oh," said Echo. He blinked again, then bit back a yawn and shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the lingering effects of the . . . stun shot? Yeah. Based on how he felt, he'd definitely been stunned. Ever since his rescue from the Techno Union, stun shots seemed to make him more tired than they used to.
He wryly considered that it might have something to do with the fact that he had a lot less body mass now than he'd had before the Citadel. Perks of getting blown up and being a science experiment and all that. It wasn't quite as fun as being so valuable that the slug scientists hired warlords to capture his teammates and use them against him, but it was definitely up there. . .
Wait.
. . . Wait.
Teammates . . . Nu'osa. It took Echo another two full seconds to remember everything that had happened, and when he did he straightened and turned so fast that he whacked Wrecker in the chin with his shoulder. "Wrecker – sorry – how long has it been?"
"Since you got hit? . . ." Wrecker rubbed his chin and glanced down at his hand, as if checking for blood. "Uh, 'bout fifteen minutes, I guess. Maybe five minutes since I got us here."
"Where's here?" Echo tried to get up and almost fell, an action which was followed by Wrecker dragging him back to sit against the wall again.
"In a cave pretty close to that fortress," said Wrecker. "I was gonna bring you back to the Marauder, but there's a bunch of droids guarding it now."
Echo tipped his head back in exasperation, using Wrecker's forearm as a headrest because it was still conveniently there, and said, "I guess I was wrong about there not being that many droids left. . . Anyone try to comm me while I was out?"
"Nope."
"Aw, great. . ." Echo thumped his fist impatiently into the sand. "And Nu'osa must know we're out here somewhere."
"He does, I had to take out a couple of commandos on our way here." Reaching over, Wrecker picked up Echo's pack and dragged it closer to him. "He's got droids out searching for us, see?"
And he held up Echo's datapad, which now had a scan running. Little red dots were scattered all over the screen and clustered around one large dot in the upper righthand corner.
"The Marauder," said Echo.
"Uh-huh."
"It's absolutely surrounded."
"Yeah."
Echo thought about that for a moment. ". . . Kriff," he mumbled.
". . . Yup."
A cold, damp breeze drifted through the cave, making Echo shiver, and Wrecker fetched the heat lamp and put it in the sand next to him.
"You'd better warm up," he said, and opened the pack. "And have somethin' to eat while you're at it."
Echo's mind was spinning, coming up with plans and discarding or altering them as he saw fit. He accepted the ration bar absently and took a bite, sitting up a little straighter so he could shift even closer to the heat lamp. His brain, and maybe his added processors, which had been moving so slowly before, were now leaping from point to point without waiting for him to catch up. "We need to get the others out, fast," he said. "And I don't exactly know how yet."
"Me either," said Wrecker solemnly. "That's why I figured I'd wait until you'd woken up, 'cause I couldn't think of much."
"Any ideas at all?" Echo asked.
"Uh . . . yeah." With a sheepish smile, he rubbed the back of his head and said, "I had some ideas about blowing up Nu'osa's whole fortress."
Echo smirked. "You know what, Wrecker, I like that plan."
"You do?" The big commando grinned and took a bite of his own ration bar, but then deflated a little. "Only problem is, we don't have many explosives."
Having finished his own meal, Echo took a few swallows of water, then cleared his throat. "We don't have many explosives with us," he corrected.
Wrecker looked confused.
"Let's think through this carefully," said Echo, leaning forward. "We have to rescue the others, which means getting Crosshair and Tech out of Nu'osa's headquarters, and Hunter out of . . . probably the prison area, but he might also be in headquarters. Right?"
"Right."
"And when we go in this time, we need to make sure to get everything right, because something tells me we won't get a third chance. That means contingency plans."
Wrecker groaned, good-naturedly enough. "I guess," he said. "But contingency plans take forever!"
"Not when I'm making them, they don't," Echo replied. "Think, Wrecker. What might go wrong when we go back in?"
"We might die," Wrecker suggested helpfully. Then he squinted at the rocky ceiling and added, "Well, no – you wouldn't die, 'cause Nu'osa needs you alive."
". . . Right," said Echo. "So that means I'm going to take the more dangerous assignments."
Wrecker gave a reluctant nod, and Echo continued.
"Another thing that might go wrong is if Nu'osa decides to kill the others . . . so, we need to make sure we don't give him cause for alarm."
"Got it," said Wrecker, with an uncharacteristically serious look. "So we gotta have our timing down."
"Exactly. And the other thing that might go wrong is that Nu'osa could decide to transport the others off-planet. So, before even attempting to rescue them, we'll need to take out or immobilize his ship."
"What?" Wrecker frowned. "But how?"
"I have an idea about that," said Echo, stumbling to his feet. He had to duck his head slightly to avoid the cave ceiling, but managed to walk back and forth a couple of times, loosening his tensed muscles. "And it involves the Havoc Marauder."
"Good," said Wrecker. "Because we need it to get the explosives. But we can't get it without alerting Nu'osa. There's a bunch of droids guarding it, remember?"
Echo turned to him, smirking. "I remember," he said. "And Nu'osa will no doubt hear it, which is why we need to be so careful. But we can definitely get the Marauder, and I'll show you how in a minute. First, though – how far are we from the fortress?"
"Uh – about a hundred meters east of it, I guess. I had to go around the long way, so it took me a bit." Wrecker sketched out a few lines in the sand, and dropped a loose pebble towards the center. "That's the fortress, and this line is us."
"Got it," said Echo. "So, Nu'osa's headquarters are right here, and the Marauder itself. . . there."
"Right." Wrecker held out the datapad again. "And droid positions are here, in relation to the Marauder. And that's everything we know."
"It's enough," said Echo. He took the datapad and plugged the secondary extension on his scomp into it.
"Uh, Echo?" asked Wrecker, shifting closer. "What's our plan?"
"Well," said Echo. Half his attention was on the Marauder's systems, but he took a moment to send Wrecker a smirk. "Give me a minute, and I'll describe it to you."
Tech stood with his back against one of the walls in the control room – Nu'osa's headquarters. His wrists were cuffed behind him, and a pair of commando droids stood nearby, staring at him. Crosshair had also been cuffed, and was standing against the opposite wall. There were two commando droids and two B-1s in front of him, for good reason.
Tech himself was in a relatively bad mood, as he had been for most of his time as a prisoner. Hunter had escaped, with Echo's help, and then had somehow managed to get himself recaptured; Tech had heard the droids' reports to Nu'osa. That had been fully twenty-five minutes ago, but the sergeant was nowhere in evidence. He had most likely been left in his prison cell, which was – inconvenient, to say the least.
It meant that Echo and Wrecker, whenever and however they decided to come back, would have to make two separate rescues instead of being able to blow open the door of the control room.
Nu'osa himself was standing in front of the control panel, dictating orders to his droids as they attempted to locate Echo and Wrecker.
"He cannot have gotten far," insisted the yellow-skinned Twi'lek. "He was hit by two stun rounds, you said!"
"He was!" yelped a B-1. "But the big clone got him over the wall, and we haven't seen either of them since!"
"So you informed me," Nu'osa sighed. "I still say they can't have gotten far."
"Yes, sir. We'll keep looking – gaaaah!"
Tech met Crosshair's eyes with a questioning glance. Crosshair only shrugged as Nu'osa demanded to know what the droid had just seen.
"There are bodies here!" the droid exclaimed.
"What?! What do you mean?"
"Well," the droid answered. "Unit Four-Eight-Nine-Three has been violently dismembered! Unit Four-Eight-Nine-Four has no head! What a horrible scene!"
Nu'osa looked perplexed for a moment. "You are a droid," he said. "Why would you even start to – no. Never mind. Did you think of searching the caves, or have you just been walking around the open areas?"
"Uhhhhhhhh . . ." There was a very long pause. "What caves?"
Tech smirked as Nu'osa facepalmed in exasperation. "There are caves to the east of the fortress."
"Okay, riiiiight," said the B-1, clearly skeptical. "I'll run a scan on that. . ."
On the other side of the room, Crosshair stiffened, his focus on the sensor array that showed the positions of the droids who were out searching.
Tech looked at his squad mate, waiting. Crosshair returned his look, smirking a little, then slid his gaze to the Twi'lek, and from Nu'osa to the sensor array. He must have seen something important – something, for example, like one of the droids disappearing.
Tech nodded his understanding.
"Never mind scanning for the caves!" exclaimed Nu'osa. "I already know they're present, droid. Now, take a squad and go search for the clones."
"Yes, sir. . ."
Nu'osa ended the comm call and rubbed delicately at his forehead with one hand as he frowned at the floor.
Crosshair shifted. "Droids are such an inconvenience," he commented.
"At times, I agree," Nu'osa replied.
"Of course, so are prisoners."
"Yes," said Nu'osa, slanting an annoyed look at him. "Now, do keep silent while I think. I must prepare to welcome your ARC trooper friend."
On the sensor array, a red dot blinked out of existence. Tech cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and announced, "Mynocks are a species of silico-based bat-like parasites."
Nu'osa blinked. "What?"
"Bat-like parasites," repeated Tech, completely for Nu'osa's benefit. "They are capable of surviving in the vacuum of space, and are known to inhabit asteroid fields, which I personally find very interesting to consider."
Nu'osa rolled his eyes and turned deliberately away. "Do you ever stop talking?"
"Yes, of course," said Tech, watching as another red dot near the Marauder vanished. "However, when I have something to say, I tend to say it. As I was saying, mynocks are remotely related to grallocs and tibidees, which you may not have heard of unless your particular brand of criminal enjoys residing on Stygeon Prime, but although I suspect you would be an admirable citizen of that particular planet, I will not fault you for your lack of knowledge in that regard."
"Be quiet!" exclaimed Nu'osa.
Tech blinked innocently at him. "But the feeding habits of mynocks are quite interesting. Surely you want to hear the specifics involving their ability to drain power cells of energy?"
"No, I do not. Now be quiet, or I will have the droid silence you!"
On the other side of the room, Crosshair slouched against the wall despite his cuffed hands and drawled, "The seven-seventy-three Firepuncher is a thing of beauty."
For a brief moment, Nu'osa looked as if he did not know which way to turn. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then rounded on his droids, hands clenched. As he began to give them an order, Crosshair said, "The Firepuncher features ablative coating and multiple configurations."
Nu'osa's jaw was clenched now, as Crosshair added, almost contemplatively, "It's one of the few things that Merr-Sonn Munitions makes that is completely free of flaws."
"Merr-Sonn Munitions, Incorporated," Tech corrected him.
Now, Nu'osa was visibly gritting his teeth. Turning, he said, "Droids, do not let either of them speak again!"
"How are they meant to do that?" Tech asked, interested.
The yellow Twi'lek stared at him.
"I apologize," said Tech, as an eighth red dot vanished. "But I truly wish to know how you expect them to carry out their commands."
"Yeah," Crosshair added. "You can't kill us unless you want to lose your hostages."
"I do not need to kill you in order to have you punished for speaking!" Nu'osa said, glaring in a way that meant he was truly angry.
Tech considered being quiet. He considered it for nearly five seconds, and would have gone on for five more, except that Nu'osa started to turn back to the screen.
Before he could think of anything to distract the Twi'lek with, Crosshair hummed a brief laugh.
Spinning to face him, Nu'osa narrowed his eyes at him, but Crosshair said nothing, only keeping his amused gaze on the ground.
"Well?" said the Twi'lek, taking a step closer. "What is it that you find so entertaining?"
"What? Oh – beg pardon," droned the sniper, lifting an eyebrow in that supremely unconcerned way that sometimes made Echo bark at him. "You want me to explain? I was under the impression that you wanted us to be quiet."
This time, the nearest commando droid jabbed its stun baton into Crosshair's chest, and Crosshair stumbled into the nearest B-1, quite by accident of course, causing the crackling baton to jam into that droid.
Despite the fact that it was only a simple B-1, Tech found the resulting destruction to be highly satisfying. So did Crosshair, judging by the look he gave Tech.
Nu'osa stared down at the sparking droid, then back at Crosshair, sheer irritation evident in all his features. But somehow, his tone was almost normal when he pressed his comm and said, "Droids, bring Hunter up to the control room. I believe I chose the wrong hostages."
Tech's momentary good mood vanished, despite the twelve red dots missing from the screen, and he glowered at the floor, hoping that he and Crosshair had not pushed the Twi'lek too far.