Chapter 1 - Why Am I A Stranger
Plot: What if the Bad Batch lost Hunter? Leaderless and adrift, Clone Force 99 is scattered across the galaxy. Hunter swears loyalty to the Empire. Echo leaves in search of a long-lost brother. Crosshair goes with Tech, Wrecker, and Omega to live in hiding. But they are a family, and it is inevitable that their paths will cross once more. And when they do...
Author's Note: *incoherent shrieking* Y'all have NO IDEA how excited I am for this fic! I've been planning it out for so many months, and being able to finally start posting it is amazing! This is my take on an Imperial!Hunter AU. It's very role-swap-y, but also, not quite. This IS an AU and as such, the background of this universe is not the same as in canon. Everything will be explained in due time. I hope y'all enjoy! :D
I'm nowhere near done, and I'm currently planning to post the first six chapters weekly. If this gets a lot of attention, I'll try to continue with weekly updates after that. ;)
PS. This is for the Bad Batch Bingo. :)
~ Amina Gila
You are CT-9901, but your brothers call you Hunter. You are an enhanced clone, part of the infamous Clone Force 99, and your heightened senses let you accurately pinpoint electromagnetic frequencies anywhere on a planet. You are their sergeant, and you are responsible for them and their well-being. This is not a burden you carry lightly. You feel it everywhere you go, the knowledge that one mistake could mean life or death for your brothers.
Though you do not yet know it, the end of the Clone Wars and the galaxy as you know it is on you. Your squad is on Ringo Vinda, assisting Jedi Master Tiplee finish reclaiming the planet in a battle that will end the struggle that has drug on for months. The battle is almost over, and you're looking forward to getting some downtime to rest and recover from the past many months of almost non-stop fighting.
You get a transmission, and the comm channel repeats only one directive. "Execute Order 66."
In a moment, everything falls into place, and you understand what you must do. The Jedi are traitors, and you are to execute them. Those are your orders. You want to question how it is possible that every single Jedi could be a traitor, but on the battlefield, that kind of question will get you killed, and you know that. Good soldiers follow orders. You cannot question your orders if your squad is in danger. Protecting them comes first. It always comes first. You will do whatever you must to keep your brothers safe.
You don't look at them as you draw your blaster, turning away from the incoming wave of droids and focusing on the Jedi, the traitor in your midst. The regs start shooting, and you wait and watch as she stumbles in shock, whipping around and deflecting the blaster bolts back at them, aiming to kill. She is a traitor, and she does not care for the lives of her soldiers. You can see this, and you know that you will not get a second chance. You hear your brothers talking, and you shift, keeping yourself between them and the enemy as you always have. You lift your blaster, aim, and fire. You do not miss.
The blaster bolt hits the Jedi in the head, and she goes down. You feel it as she dies, and only then do you relax. The traitor is dead, and your brothers are safe. You will kill for them if you have to. You have killed for them. And you will do it again. And again. As many times as it takes, so they will be safe. That is all that matters to you.
This is what it means to be CT-9901 in the dawn of the Empire, on the night of the fall of the Jedi Order.
**w**
"Execute Order 66."
Crosshair's brow furrows at the oddness of the order. What does that mean? It tugs at something in his mind as if he ought to know, but he doesn't. "What's Order 66?" he asks, turning to his brothers. If anyone knows, Hunter or Tech will. This is hardly the first time they've gotten unclear orders, but this is by far the strangest.
"I am uncertain," Tech answers, typing on his datapad. "I will see what I can ascertain."
"Hunter?" It's Wrecker, his voice worried, and Crosshair spins toward Hunter to see him lifting his blaster in the direction of the Mikkian Jedi Master they're working with – Tiplee. The regs open fire on her, and Crosshair takes a step back in sheer disbelief and horror. What –?
She stumbles as the first bolt skims her arm, whirling around, her blue lightsaber flashing as she deflects the shots back at the regs. Two of them go down as the bolts hit them in the chest, and Crosshair stands there, frozen and numb and terrified.
"What are they doing?" demands Echo sharply, taking a step forward. Crosshair reaches out to grab his arm, so he doesn't foolishly run forward to demand answers.
"I have no idea," he replies, looking desperately at Tech and Hunter. But Hunter – something is wrong with him. He's not speaking or moving, and there's a sharp intentness to him that Crosshair only sees when he's tracking something – or preparing to leap into action. Neither of which makes sense. "Tech, what's happening?"
"The regs have turned on the Jedi," he answers matter-of-factly, "Though I am uncertain why."
Great. No answers from him, then.
"Hunter?"
There's still no answer, but Crosshair sees Hunter lift his blaster, sees him aim and fire at General Tiplee without a moment of hesitation. The blaster bolt hits her in the head, and Crosshair looks away, so he doesn't have to see the mess that's made. He's seen it enough times, the blood, and brains, and – yeah. He doesn't want to see it again if he doesn't have to, and he hears her body thump onto the ground. General Tiplee is dead, and Hunter killed her, and what the kriff is happening –
Echo growls, actually growls, reaching out and grabbing Hunter's shoulder, forcibly turning him around. "What was that all about?" he demands. "Killing the Jedi?"
Hunter slides his blaster back into his holster. "Those were our orders," he answers. "I think that you, of all people, would understand the dangers of a rogue Jedi."
Echo jerks back, stung. "How can you say that?! General Tiplee was nothing like Krell!"
Hunter only nods in the direction of the regs. "She was killing them."
"Because they attacked her!"
"Hunter may not be wrong," Tech interjects before it can turn into a full-blown argument – the prospect of which makes Crosshair more than a little uncomfortable. "It appears the regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi."
Echo turns on him. "Which Jedi?" he demands, "Why?"
"All of them," Tech replies, and it sends a chill down Crosshair's spine, "They're saying the Jedi have committed treason."
"I know you don't like it," Hunter adds, "But it was what had to be done. Good soldiers follow orders, Echo, and if the Jedi were going to turn on us, better that we stop them before it gets that far."
Crosshair can't see Echo's face, but he knows that he's angry. He is, too, but not at Hunter. Never at Hunter. He's angry at the Jedi for doing this, for going so far that the clones had to kill them to stop them. He doesn't know what happened on Umbara in detail, but he knows that the Jedi there, General Krell, had ended up in charge of the 501st Legion, and he knows that Echo was nearly killed because of it. They were ordered into a minefield and Echo was hit by one. The Bad Batch doesn't know that many Jedi personally, even if they've worked with many. The best one, by far, was General Skywalker – or wait, he wasn't a Jedi. It's easy to forget that, since he had a lightsaber, but he left the Order from what Crosshair heard.
"Where's the proof?" Echo challenges. "What you're saying is ridiculous. There is no way the entire Jedi Order committed treason! And I thought we didn't blindly follow orders anyway!"
"If they're right, we do," Hunter answers, not backing down, "And would you really have wanted to take that chance? That she was about to start slaughtering us all?"
"She wouldn't have done that!" Echo yells. "It's not true! The Jedi wouldn't do that!"
Crosshair exchanges a look with Wrecker, who looks as uncomfortable by the argument as he feels. They don't fight with Echo. They just don't. He was the first person who actually wanted them, who chose them, and that means something to them. He knows why Hunter did what he did, and he hates that Echo is yelling at him for it. Hunter protects them. It's what he does, and yeah, Crosshair might not like it, but he trusts him. Hunter wouldn't lead them wrong. He wouldn't. Which means the Jedi did commit treason.
Echo just doesn't want to accept it because he worked with them personally, like all the regs, before his injury and before he joined them.
Hunter sighs and holds up a hand in a gesture for him to calm down. "Echo, I understand why this is hard for you to accept, and I understand why you don't like it, but what's done is done." He looks at the others. "C'mon. Our mission here is finished. It's time for us to go back to Kamino. The regs will handle the droids that are left."
**w**
Echo brings it up again when they're in hyperspace, on the way to Kamino. Crosshair knew he would because it's something that's important to him, and he would never let it go, not that easily. "You gotta admit something is wrong with the way the regs turned on the Jedi," he says.
Crosshair sees Hunter twitch out of the corner of his eye before he lifts his head, expression tired. He was trying to sleep but couldn't seem to quite manage it. Is his head hurting him still? He sustained a minor concussion on their mission before Ringo Vinda, and Crosshair doesn't think he's finished recovering from it yet.
"Echo –" he begins, but Echo plows ahead, ignoring him entirely.
"Why didn't I know what this Order 66 was?" he asks, "Or any of you? Why just Hunter? Why the regs? Something isn't right. Those clones fought with General Tiplee for years. If she was up to something, don't you think they would have figured it out sooner? How could every single Jedi really be guilty of committing treason? That doesn't even make sense. The Jedi have served the Republic for years! They led us in the war. Why would they turn on the Republic now that the war is over?"
"Orders are orders, Echo," Hunter answers and Crosshair can hear the tendril of irritation slipping into his words, "How can you expect us to ask those questions, much less get answers?"
"Echo… may actually have a point," Tech admits, and Crosshair turns to him, wide-eyed. "The regs' behavior was different after getting the order, almost as though they were being reprogrammed. With the incoming wave of droids, the most ideal strategy would have been to split their forces to cover their flank instead of focusing all their fire on the Jedi. Had Hunter not shot her, I believe the outcome would have been very different."
Crosshair throws a look in Wrecker's direction, but he seems just as conflicted and confused as Crosshair himself. Tech is seldom wrong, as he always likes to say, and about this, Crosshair has to believe him. But if Echo is right – and Crosshair can't deny that he does have a point – then what does that mean? Were they incorrectly told to kill General Tiplee? Something uncomfortable and heavy twists inside of him at the prospect. Their orders have been wrong before, but it – none of those mistakes were like this. If this order was wrong, they – Hunter – will have killed one of their allies, and – will they get into trouble for this?
That thought, more than anything, scares him because they have a record of always completing their objectives, and they can't lose that. It's what makes them effective. It's why their skills are under so much demand. If they lose their effectiveness, the Kaminoans will take them back to the lab and dissect them to see how to make the next generation of clones better, and Crosshair does not want to become a lab rat, thank you very much.
He cares more about what'll happen to them than about whether or not the Jedi were falsely accused of treason.
Echo looks even more grumpy at Tech's words which Crosshair doesn't get at all. Shouldn't he be happy that Tech agrees with him?
"Maybe," says Hunter after a long pause, "But there's nothing we can do about it now."
Echo leaves the cockpit, going to the back of the shuttle. He's upset, Crosshair can tell, but he doesn't know what to do about it, doesn't know that Echo would want to talk to him anyway. Instead, he turns to Hunter because he's worried now. If – if their orders were wrong, if the Jedi didn't really commit treason, what does that mean? How can they – carry out orders that are wrong? How can they hurt people who didn't do anything to deserve it, people who are, or were, their allies?
"What if he's right?" Crosshair asks quietly. Hunter is in the chair across from him. Wrecker's in the co-pilot's seat opposite Tech. "What if the Jedi weren't guilty? What if –?" He thinks back on it and wonders if Tech is also right about the regs being different. Is Hunter being different? He can't quite tell. Maybe? It's – they've killed people before, Separatists who were fighting them in battle, and this was different, but Crosshair would still have done it, have shot her if she'd turned on his brothers.
"You're speculating, Crosshair," Hunter tells him, shaking his head.
"But what if he's right?" he repeats, and he can't hide the desperation that slips into the words. He wants to know that they'll be okay, that – that –
It's a stupid, childish want, to have Hunter tell him everything is alright, but that's what Hunter does, and though Crosshair might be old enough that he shouldn't need it, there's a tiny part of him, buried deep inside, that still craves it.
Hunter's expression softens. "We didn't do anything wrong. We followed our orders. That's what we've been taught to do, and that's what we did, okay?"
Everything's okay, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. Hunter said so. "Yeah," he answers, "Okay." He watches Hunter sink back into his chair, eyes closing, one hand reaching up to rub his head. "Headache?"
He makes a grunt of acknowledgment.
"Want a pain med?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
Crosshair pushes up from his seat, but he doesn't miss the way Tech looks back at Hunter, a flicker of concern on his face. Tech probably has a whole theory about what's going on, but Crosshair doesn't want to hear it. Not right now.
They come out of hyperspace over Kamino a few hours later, and Crosshair leans forward to look out the front viewport, balancing his helmet on his knee as he stares at the planet which is the only place they can call home – other than the Marauder, of course. He ignores the conversation between Tech and Wrecker about how long they've been away because he already knows the answer – way too long.
He really, really wants to go back to their barracks where he has his own bunk. Here, they only have two racks and the rules of fairness dictate rotating who gets to use them. Wrecker always does, though, because he can't fall asleep unless he's at least moderately comfortable, and Crosshair, no matter how grumpy he might be sometimes over having a sore neck from sleeping sitting up, would never make Wrecker go without sleep. … Sometimes, Hunter lets him have the rack even if it's his turn, and Crosshair feels a teeny bit of guilt at that. But that's just how Hunter is, and it's not like he'd complain.
Prickles of unease dart through him when they're requested to transmit their clearance codes. Tech speculates it's just a protocol drill – they have those sometimes – but Crosshair isn't so sure. If the war is over, like Tech claimed would soon happen at the beginning of the battle on Ringo Vinda, then that means everything is going to change, doesn't it? Crosshair doesn't like change, not major changes like what this might be.
"Level five lockdown remains in effect," comes the PA announcement, and Crosshair twitches closer to his brothers. Echo is walking with them, subdued and sullen but not speaking.
"Shock troopers?" Hunter says, stilling. He's wearing his helmet, a telltale sign that his headache is worse than he's letting on. It must be pretty bad if he's relying on it to filter out extra stimuli. "Why would the Coruscant Guard be here?"
"Level five lockdown remains in effect. Security teams, report to the command center," says the announcer again.
"This is not a drill," Tech realizes, and Wrecker groans dramatically about how they always miss the interesting things – which Crosshair resents; they make plenty of interesting things.
"The war is over," a passing Guard member tells them, stopping.
Hunter jerks. "Say again, trooper?"
"General Grievous was defeated on Utapau. The Separatist leadership has collapsed. The war is over," he explains.
Tech starts talking, but Crosshair's attention is drawn to the two Coruscant Guards who are carrying a stretcher with a dead body on it. A wash of dread sweeps through him when it rocks enough that a limp, red hand flops over the edge, a lightsaber clattering to the floor. General Ti. Echo gasps from behind him, and Crosshair reaches back to squeeze his arm.
"Is there a problem?" the Guard asks.
"No problem," Hunter answers, "We're going to our barracks."
"Best hurry. There's a mandatory general assembly at 1500," comes the reply.
Hunter nods sharply, gesturing, and they all move out of the hangar, heading through the halls to their barracks. The eagerness Crosshair had felt has fallen away entirely, replaced by a myriad of conflicting emotions that he doesn't care to parse.
"Stars," whispers Echo, and he sounds nauseous. "That was General Ti. She – she helped Fives and me with our squad back at the beginning when we were having trouble getting along. No way she would have been a traitor."
Crosshair never knew her, but he knew of her. He heard stories. She wasn't like many natborns. She didn't hit the clones under her command, and she tried to help them. She didn't send them for decommissioning when they failed. She was popular, well-liked. And the regs killed her? "Somethin's not right," he states definitively. "The regs are… off."
"Let's test that theory," Tech instantly decides, barging in front of a passing reg and asking what division he's from. He's shoved aside unceremoniously. "Well, they seem the same to me," he grumbles. Which, yeah, that behavior is the same at least. Crosshair would have been genuinely scared if all the regs started acting as though they like them.
"It's good to be back!" Wrecker cheers, the first through the door of their barracks, dumping his helmet down and whipping out his vibroknife. "I'll get the board!"
"The smell's getting worse," Echo complains, stopping in the doorway.
"You're still new," Hunter answers, nudging his shoulder, an obvious peace offering, "You'll get used to it."
Crosshair rolls his eyes. Ha. Hilarious. As if. He's nine years old, has lived in this barracks for nearly six years, and he isn't used to it. It's better than the alternative, of dousing the place in chemicals and making Hunter stumble around almost blind from the severity of his overstimulation migraine. But still – "Speak for yourself," he deadpans, shoving past Hunter and Echo and making a beeline for his bunk. He pulls his rifle free, tossing his backpack onto the floor and flopping down on his back, his rifle on his chest.
"Eleven more successful missions," Wrecker announces, laughing, "As though there was any doubt."
Echo scowls from the other side of the room. "Ringo Vinda wasn't a win," he snaps.
"Yeah, it was!" Crosshair argues because no one talks to Wrecker in that tone, not even Echo, "We carried out our orders."
"We aren't supposed to kill our Jedi commanders," Echo grits out, angry.
"I heard one of your regs killed General Krell," Hunter points out. He pulls off his helmet, hissing when the light hits his eyes. Tech is at his side in a flash, but he waves him away, inhaling shakily as he narrows his gaze at Echo.
Crosshair helpfully gets up to turn the lights almost all the way down, leaving them on bright enough for the others to see their way around. Hunter probably won't be moving around, and he doesn't need lights to see in the dark.
"Yeah, well, Krell deliberately walked us into a minefield that he could have avoided if he'd followed General Skywalker's plan," Echo snaps. "He was a traitor."
"Maybe General Tiplee was, too," Hunter counters, stopping to swallow the pain meds that Tech hands to him.
Crosshair props himself up enough to start taking apart his rifle and cleaning it. He should have enough time to do it before the mandatory assembly.
"She –" Echo starts hotly, cutting himself off, hand curling on the table he's sitting at. "Listen, none of this makes sense. Maybe she was, but General Ti? She always stood up for us. Why would the regs have killed her? How could they?!"
Tech doesn't look up from his datapad, leaning on a crate not too far from Hunter. "I imagine that would be because of their programming."
"What?" Crosshair splutters, and suddenly, the conversation demands his full attention. "What programming?"
"Well, it has been well-documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the cognitive functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without question," Tech explains.
Wrecker laughs. "We sure don't!" Which – yeah. They never have.
"Obviously, we are different," Tech answers, "They manipulated preexisting aberrations in our DNA, resulting in your brute strength, Crosshair's sharpshooting skills, Hunter's enhanced senses, and my exceptional mind. My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming, although I cannot be one hundred percent certain." His eyes slide toward Hunter, who looks back at him, lips pressed together.
"I'm fine," he says tightly. "I'm fine, Tech."
Crosshair looks away. He wants to agree, but he thinks about the way Hunter shot the Jedi in the head without hesitating, and he can't agree. But – "What about Echo?"
"Yeah," Hunter agrees, shifting, "He used to be a reg. Why wasn't he affected by this… programming?"
"I should have reacted, right?" Echo concurs.
"The damage you sustained on Skako Minor most likely wiped out all of your preset behavioral modifications," Tech tells him, "You are more machine than man… percentage-wise, at least."
"Ah, lucky me," Echo mutters, unhappy.
Hunter closes his eyes, turning his back to the room, another sign that his headache is worse than what he's letting on. A sudden announcement breaks up his attempt at resting and Crosshair's attempt at cleaning his rifle.
"All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic."
Hunter makes a whine-growl when he hears, yanking his helmet on with way more force than could possibly be necessary, and Crosshair sighs loudly, fingers working quickly as he finishes putting his rifle back together and gears up for the meeting.
This should be fun.
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