Fives wants to throw something. He wants to tear something up with his bare hands. He wants to rip his hair out and shout his frustration to the stars.
The rest of his batchmates aren't doing any better. Cutup is grinding his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. Droidbait is hunching in on himself ever so slightly, expression twisted like he's going to be sick. Echo's face is blank. Too blank.
General Skywalker is distraught as well. He paces around B deck like some sort of caged predator. Commander Tano is biting her nails. Tipper and Zeer are grim. They don't know every detail of what's going on, but they've seen Hevy's senatorial speech and seem to be catching up rapidly. Del and the rest of Beta squad are silent and worried. Captain Rex's arms are crossed firmly across his chest.
"General… what are we going to do?" Cutup asks in a small voice.
"I don't know yet, Cutup," General Skywalker answers tensely. "Senator Amidala told me that Hevy and Flak are laying low—their ship was shot down, so they won't make it to the shipyard. She's trying to track them using the locator in Hevy's comm, but she's dealing with her own problems right now too. She won't be able to provide them with much support."
Fives itches to drop everything and take a shuttle from the main hangar to head for Coruscant. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe. He keeps his mouth shut—he isn't sure what'll come out of it if he comments right now.
It's the helplessness that's hardest to bear. They're so far away and there's nothing they can do to help. Fives can imagine Hevy's situation all too well. He's been there. He knows better than anyone what it's like, and that just makes things worse.
"If Senator Amidala can't help him, there's gotta be someone else who could," Jesse urges. "I don't doubt that he and Flak can survive, but if they're ever going to get back here they'll need help."
Commander Tano perks up.
"I was catching up with Master Plo a few days ago—he said he was on his way back to Coruscant," she blurts out. "They were heading there to restock supplies. They were supposed to leave earlier this morning, but they could still be nearby!"
General Skywalker frowns, stroking his chin with his hand. It's such a Kenobi-like gesture that for a moment Fives does a double-take, half-expecting a Coruscanti accent in the General's next words.
"Rex, can you get us into contact with the 104th? If they're still close enough, they might be able to help us." Rex nods curtly, stepping towards the holoprojector. He plugs something into the control panel. Everyone waits with bated breath as the holoprojector pings, attempting to form a connection with the other battalion. Fives runs a hand over his face and tries not to let his impatience show.
Finally, the holoprojector lets out a chime of success. A blue hologram flickers into existence. Commander Wolffe stands in front of them, helmet at his side.
"General Skywalker," Wolffe greets bluntly. "How can we be of assistance?"
General Skywalker doesn't waste time with pleasantries.
"Commander Wolffe, my padawan told me the 104th was on Coruscant not too long ago. What is your current location?"
Wolffe's eyebrows shoot up.
"We're still in orbit above Coruscant, sir. We're waiting on a few more shipments of heavy weaponry. The Guard were supposed to have escorted the delivery to us already, but they haven't showed up yet."
Fives' heart leaps in his chest. The 104th are still on Coruscant. They're close enough to help. General Skywalker's eyes narrow in determination.
"I think we have an explanation for that, Commander. Is Master Plo available?" Wolffe hesitates for a brief moment.
"He's... resting, sir. I'd prefer not to wake him unless it's important."
Captain Rex takes a step forward, drawing Wolffe's attention.
"We need your help, Wolffe. It's urgent." The Captain frowns. "It's also sensitive enough that we should encrypt this channel before we continue."
If Wolffe is surprised, he hides it well. He nods slowly.
"I'll wake General Plo. Encrypt the channel. Comm us again when you're ready."
He disappears. General Skywalker looks back at Beta squad.
"Echo, can you—"
"Already on it, sir," Echo says. He steps forward and reaches for the holoprojector's control panel. His mouth is set in a hard line as he begins to work.
Fives doesn't dare to hope quite yet. If the 104th can provide support, Hevy and Flak will have a much better chance at escaping, but there are still so many things that could go wrong.
Commander Tano has her arms wrapped around her torso. She's shifting her weight from one foot to the other anxiously. She turns to Fives and offers him a nervous smile.
"Hevy will be alright. If there's anyone who can help him, it's Master Plo."
It sounds like she's trying to convince herself just as much as she's trying to convince them. Regardless, the optimism is refreshing. Fives can see Droidbait latching onto it like a lifeline. It eases the tension in the room just enough that it's no longer stifling.
"Got it," Echo announces after a few more minutes. He straightens. "We should be good to go."
When they comm the 104th again, the connection is a bit more strained from the encryption. General Plo Koon stands at Commander Wolffe's side.
"General Skywalker. Wolffe has informed me that you have urgent news." The Kel Dor's voice rumbles a bit more than usual, but Fives can't find it in him to be sorry that they interrupted his nap. General Skywalker straightens.
"Sorry to wake you, Master, but I'm afraid this is of the utmost importance. I'm sure you and your men have been following the situation on Coruscant."
General Plo Koon inclines his head. "Indeed. Clone trooper Hevy has caused quite a stir across the entire Republic."
Fives feels a muted surge of pride at his words. Hevy has been doing an incredible job. If General Skywalker's tight grin is of any indication, he feels the same way.
"Yeah, he has. But earlier today the Kaminoan Senator cornered Hevy and attempted to activate his biochip."
General Plo Koon goes still. Wolffe's eye widens.
"Did he not have his removed already?" Wolffe asks. General Skywalker nods.
"He was one of the first to have it removed. The order didn't do anything. But when he didn't acknowledge her command, the Senator must have grown suspicious, and she sent the Coruscant Guard after him. They must want to find out why his chip didn't work. He's on the run. Senator Amidala is also at risk—she's had to rely on a decoy to keep herself out of enemy hands."
General Plo Koon's shoulders draw up a little.
"This is grave news indeed," he replies slowly. "Too few battalions have been successfully de-chipped. If our operations are discovered, we may never have the chance to free the rest of the army from the biochip's influence."
"Yes, Master. I know." General Skywalker's voice is grim. "They're hunting Hevy as we speak. I would go to assist him myself, but we're in the Outer Rim right now. Even if we left immediately, we wouldn't make it in time."
"Master, Hevy needs help!" Commander Tano chimes in. Her eyes are wide and pleading. "We need to help him escape. Please, Master Plo! Is there anything you can do?"
The Kel Dor nods.
"I will prepare a shuttle to return to Coruscant's surface immediately. Do you know Hevy's location?"
Apparently he doesn't need more convincing than that. Fives feels a surge of grateful relief. General Skywalker seems to as well. He exhales slowly, shoulders falling just a bit.
"I don't, Master, but Senator Amidala hopefully knows by now. I can pass you the code to her encrypted comm. You must be careful, Master. The Guards are not themselves. They won't hesitate to confront you if you're seen helping Hevy," the General responds.
"That does explain our delay," Wolffe mutters unhappily. "General, I'm coming with you." General Plo Koon nods at him.
"We will do our best to aid Hevy. In the meantime, General Skywalker, you should prepare yourself. Once Hevy escapes, they will likely suspect that he has fled back to his old battalion."
Force. Those are repercussions that Fives had known were possible but hadn't wanted to think about. The 501st could become a target. Palpatine could push his timetable forwards and turn the chips on. They could all be declared traitors for hiding a fugitive. None of the options Fives can think of off the top of his head are good.
"We'll be prepared." General Skywalker's voice is firm and confident. "But we need him to come home first. May the Force be with you, Master Plo."
"And with you, Skywalker. We will contact you when we have more information." The hologram fizzes out. There is a long moment of silence. Fives pinches the bridge of his nose with his hand.
This is not the way he was expecting things to go.
"Kix," General Skywalker says suddenly. He turns to face them. Kix straightens.
"Sir?"
"Take Tipper and Zeer. Report to the medbay immediately. Tell Coric that we need to get the newcomers de-chipped as quickly as possible. Organize night shifts if you have to. I know it won't be easy for the medbay staff, but we don't have another choice. The longer they're chipped, the more at risk they are. We don't know what will happen as a result of Hevy's escape."
"Yessir," Kix replies sharply. He motions at Tipper and Zeer to follow him as he hurries away from the Communications deck.
"The rest of you... sithspit." General Skywalker presses two fingers into each of his temples and massages them lightly. "I can feel your anxiousness through the Force. I'm taking you all off duty until you're more calm."
"But sir—" Del starts to protest. General Skywalker shuts him down.
"If you need to do something to take your mind off of things, that's fine. Go to the range. Spar. Play sabacc. But Rex and I are going to give your shifts to your brothers. You aren't in the right state of mind to be on duty right now."
Fives will begrudgingly admit that the General has a good point. Fives knows that he's not doing so well. He's too antsy, too stressed. The knowledge that Hevy is going to have support makes things a little better, but there's still plenty to worry about. Domino's fifth member isn't out of deep water yet.
"...Yes, sir," Del says hesitantly. "But if anything happens—"
"We'll let you know immediately," Commander Tano promises. "The moment we get news, we'll comm you."
Fives knows that the Jedi are doing everything within their power. He knows that there's nothing even General Skywalker can do from here, but... somehow it's not enough. Fives still feels like he's seconds from vibrating out of his own skin.
They leave the Jedi to their planning. Fives doesn't wait to see what the rest of Beta squad is going to do. He needs to shoot something. He lets his feet carry him to the range.
The lights have been turned off when he finally stumbles back into the barracks. His trigger finger is numb. He'd spent hours at the range, struggling to focus on the target in front of him and the blaster in his hands instead of his swirling thoughts. He hadn't paid much attention to the passage of time. The sleep cycle has already begun.
Kix's bunk is empty. Droidbait and Cutup are sprawled on top of one another. Most of the rest of Beta are asleep in their own bunks. Echo is the only one still awake. He's laid out in his bunk, but he turns his head to watch as Fives comes in. Fives isn't surprised.
"They wanted to go after you. I told them you needed some space." Echo speaks softly in an attempt to let their squadmates sleep.
"Thanks," Fives grunts. Droidbait shifts uneasily in his sleep at the sound, jostling Cutup. Echo studies Fives carefully.
"Do you feel better?"
Fives doesn't feel better. He feels the same level of frustration, just now without the incessant urge to shoot something. Echo frowns at him when Fives doesn't answer.
Fives had intended to sleep, but with Echo staring worriedly at him suddenly he's overwhelmed once more with the need to get out, to move, to do anything but sit still. It all comes crashing down again. Blasting a target to bits had taken him out of his head, but now that he's not doing anything anymore all of his worries and fears have returned. He turns on his heel and strides right back out the door.
"Oh, you kriffing—" he hears from behind him, low and exasperated. He's halfway down the hallway when Echo catches up to him. He hadn't stopped to put any armor on, still clad in just his blacks.
"Fives. Fives! Hey!"
Echo suddenly steps in front of him. He reaches out. Fives bats his hand away in a bout of irrational fury. He sighs a moment later once he realizes what he's done and stares wearily at the floor.
"...Sorry," he mutters. Echo raises an eyebrow.
"Look, you're not the only one having a rough time with this. We're all worried. But it could be worse, and you need to calm down."
Fives grits his teeth. It's the truth, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it.
"I hate this," he hisses out. "This helplessness. I want to do something. There's always been some way we could change things, tip them in our favor, but we're so kriffing far away."
Echo looks at him intently for a moment.
"I know plenty about being helpless, Fives. I understand," he says bluntly. Fives winces. Even at his lowest moments, Fives has always been free to act, to choose, to fight if he wants to. Echo hasn't always had that luxury. Tambor had stripped it away from him. "You can't just assume the worst. The Force guides us sometimes, when we need to make important choices. Why wouldn't it do the same for Hevy now?"
"The kriffing Force—sithspit. I can barely pretend to understand that on a good day. I'm not going to try and understand how something invisible and unpredictable works right now."
"Then you just need to trust that Hevy will come home safely." Ordinarily Fives would appreciate Echo's sentiment, but Hevy getting home will likely cause even more problems to surface.
"I know that he and Flak can handle themselves, but the Guard—they're relentless. It's far too easy to get cornered down there. I know, Echo. I was there."
"I understand that," Echo snaps. His frustrated tone catches Fives completely off guard. "If anyone could comprehend what Hevy's facing right now, it's you. I kriffing get it, Fives, Force! I just… kriff me."
Echo steps back for a second. He covers his face with his hand and takes a deep breath. Fives' eyes go wide with concern.
"Echo...?"
"Fine. I'm... fine. Sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to snap at you."
When Echo takes his hand away from his face, he seems to be making an effort to hold himself together. He's not so unaffected by the situation as he seems. The mask of calm and control that he's maintained since they received the bad news is cracking. That realization makes Fives' irritation fade a little. He reaches out and grabs Echo's shoulders. Echo sways into the contact a bit, deflating.
"I just... we need to stay calm. Getting riled up isn't going to help anything," Echo whispers.
Footsteps sound behind them, echoing through the hallway. Fives spares a glance behind him and sighs when he sees Droidbait and Cutup coming after them. They've taken the time to at least put on the bottom halves of their armor. Both of them look worn out and tired. Cutup looks especially exhausted. Fives isn't entirely sure if that's a result of it being late, or if the situation at large is just draining them. Probably both. He feels a surge of guilt. Fives isn't the only one suffering right now.
"Echo... Fives... please, you need to get some rest," Droidbait implores quietly as they approach. "Roaming around the ship all night isn't going to change anything."
"Look... we're worried too. But we need to have faith that Hevy will be alright. It's what he would want us to do." Cutup lists to one side slightly as he speaks. Droidbait has to reach out to steady him.
Fives looks the two of them over for a moment. They've grown so much. They've fought so hard to survive, to make a difference in the galaxy instead of dying needlessly on a backwater moon like they had the first time. They've become warriors. Their armor is marked and battered. Fives is proud of them. He's proud of Hevy, too.
They haven't come this far just so that the Kaminoans can destroy everything they've worked for. Fives is going to fight until he dies for the second time. But… he's tired. He's tired of having the fate of the galaxy resting on his shoulders. He's tired of the crippling stress and the heavy responsibility that settles every time they have to make a decision. He's tired of not being able to control what's happening.
It only takes one setback, and suddenly their entire operation is at risk. It's so fragile. Fives had forgotten that. It's a harsh reality-check.
"We're okay," Droidbait says in a small voice, interrupting Fives' racing thoughts. "Fives. We're alright. Hevy's going to be fine."
Fives closes his eyes. He lets his shoulders slump.
"I wish that optimism came as easily to me as it does to you," he breathes. He opens his eyes when Droidbait suddenly presses closer to him, ignoring the edges of Fives' armor. Fives keeps one hand on Echo's shoulder and reaches out with the other to run a soothing line down Droidbait's back.
"Hevy will be back soon," Cutup contributes wearily. He leans into Echo's other shoulder. For a moment the four of them are linked together, worried and afraid but determined and clinging to their hope. Fives takes a deep breath.
His batchmates are right. As usual.
"Can we get some rest now?" Cutup mumbles after a moment. Fives feels the faintest flicker of amusement break through his worry.
"Yeah," he says as his batchmates step back. "I'm okay. We can go."
He isn't so keyed up that sleep is impossible anymore. He'll try, at least. He turns back towards the barracks. Before the four of them can get too far, a voice sounds from behind them.
"Excuse me."
Fives turns around, surprised. Most troopers should be asleep right now. A little squad of five shinies are coming down the hallway, decked out in full gear. Their boots clatter loudly in the otherwise quiet hall.
"Uh… can we help you?" Echo asks. Domino squad comes to a halt as the shinies approach.
"Aren't you... the batchmates of CT-782?" the first one asks, glancing down at the tally marks scattered down Droidbait's legs. Fives bristles at the number. Kriffing shinies. Hevy's name and CT number are all over the holonet now. Fives has heard it plenty of times since the famous Senate meeting, but it still grates on his nerves.
"Yeah, we're Hevy's batchmates," Droidbait answers, raising one eyebrow slowly. "This isn't Kamino, shiny, you don't have to call him by his number."
The shiny nods, something odd and jerky in the motion. Fives frowns.
"You guys lost or something? The medbay is on the other side of the hangar, if that's where you're headed. The medics won't be too happy if you're late." It's unfortunate that they have to schedule surgeries so late, but the medbay is continuing their operations non-stop as General Skywalker had ordered. Someone always has to draw the short straw.
The shinies don't answer the question. They don't move, either. Fives feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something is wrong here. His brothers are tensing all around him. Even Cutup seems to be snapping out of his tired daze to narrow his eyes in confusion.
"Look, we don't have all night," Echo says warily. "If you'll excuse us—"
The shinies raise their guns. Fives jerks back in alarm.
"What the—!"
A stun bolt slams into his chest. His vision flickers. He's unconscious before he even hits the floor.
It takes several hours for Flak to wake up. Hevy doesn't sleep, but he does settle down and try to rest his tired body. He keeps one hand on his gun as he waits. Fortunately no Guards come bursting through the front doors of the warehouse. All is silent until Flak finally stirs, letting out a weak moan. Hevy is at his side in an instant.
"Hey, Flak."
Flak cracks one eye open slowly. He winces. Then he gasps.
"Kriffin' Thorn—" he slurs out, half-panicked, limbs jerking. Hevy puts a steady hand on his chest.
"Whoa, hey. Take it easy. We're safe for now. Thorn stunned you, but we got away."
Flak lets his eye slide closed. Some of the tension eases from his shoulders.
"Guess it was my turn to get dragged off of a battlefield again. You're next," he mumbles. Hevy snorts.
"I guess it was. But I think that's a cycle that we should try to break."
He reaches up for Flak's neck to check his pulse. It's steady. He's recovering well. He'll just have a headache for a few minutes. Flak takes a deep breath and finally opens his eyes all the way to stare at the ceiling above them.
"Where are we?"
"I don't know," Hevy responds. He holds out one hand carefully in case Flak wants to take it. Flak accepts the help. He grabs onto Hevy's arm to pull himself into a sitting position. Once he's up he cringes, one hand flying to his head.
"How the kriff don't you know if you're the one that brought us here?"
Hevy rolls his eyes.
"I had to get us off the street, so I carried you down into the sewers. One of the access ports led us here, but I don't know where we are in relation to any familiar landmarks."
Flak nods slowly. His eyes dart around the dark spaces of their hiding spot.
"Know what level we're on at least?"
"Not even that," Hevy admits glumly.
Without warning, the door of the warehouse starts to slide open.
Hevy's heart jolts in his chest. His hand closes around his gun before he can even think. He and Flak flatten themselves to the ground. They're hidden from immediate sight by the crates around them, but the cover won't last long if someone decides to search the warehouse.
Flak's eyes are wide. He's looking around for a weapon, but he won't find one. Hevy hadn't been able to carry two blasters along with Flak's unconscious body. The pilot meets Hevy's gaze as footsteps become audible. Their helmets are too far away to grab without leaving cover.
"They should be close. But I'm not sure if they're here or in the sewers underneath us," a clone says. Hevy squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the wave of dread that sweeps over him. They've been discovered.
Once again the sewers seem to be their best escape route. Hevy jerks his head at Flak, then at the access hatch in the floor a few yards away. Then he holds up three fingers. He hopes fervently that Flak will get the jist of the gesturing. ARC sign would be more efficient, but Flak wouldn't understand. Fortunately, Flak purses his lips and nods. Hevy counts down. Three, two, one—
Hevy springs out of his hiding spot and lays down a blanket of cover fire. Flak dives for the access hatch. Hevy hears someone shout in alarm—
A lightsaber ignites in the darkness. It fills the warehouse with a blaze of blue light. Hevy gapes as his stun bolts dissipate against the blade. There's—there's a Jedi here! But how—?
"Hold your fire!" a deep voice commands.
"Calm down, kid. We're friendlies," a clone growls. Hevy nearly drops his blaster when he finally gets a good look at the two figures in front of him.
"General!"
"Are you serious?" Flak gasps, slack-jawed as he rises to his feet. General Plo Koon sheathes his lightsaber as he approaches them. Commander Wolffe is right behind him.
"Sir!" Hevy can't shake away his disbelief. "What—I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't know it was you—"
"Not to worry, trooper. It is partially our fault. We could have at least announced our presence," General Plo Koon says. Hevy can hear just a hint of amusement in his voice. "Hevy, I presume?" Hevy feels a flicker of awe.
"That's right, sir."
"And you, trooper?"
"Uh—Flak, General." Flak is staring at General Plo Koon and Commander Wolffe like they've each grown two extra heads. "All due respect, sir—what are you doing here?"
"We're here to get you two off of Coruscant," Wolffe says curtly. "We were still in orbit when we got a comm from Captain Rex explaining your situation. Senator Amidala was able to track you using the locator in your comlink. She gave us your coordinates."
"Senator Amidala—kriff, is she alright?" Hevy blurts out. Wolffe lowers his head just a bit.
"We haven't spoken with her since she gave us your comm info. She's lying low for the time being. Thire took her decoy."
Hevy closes his eyes for a moment and fights through a wave of apprehension. He hopes that Sabe will be alright.
"There is a shuttle waiting for us a level down," General Plo Koon tells them. "We will need to move quickly, before we are discovered. If we were able to track you using your comlink, the Guard will be able to as well."
Hevy glances down at his right vambrace and scowls at his comm with worry.
"I'm surprised they haven't already," he says. "We've been here for hours. I would have expected them to think of that faster."
"Speaking of the Guard—there's something odd about their movements," Wolffe comments in a low voice. "The individual squads are being very thorough about the search, but the placement of those squads is sloppy. That's on Fox. I'd almost be embarrassed if I wasn't so concerned."
Hevy frowns. Fox is anything but sloppy.
Fox had known about the chip this time. He'd known that it was going to happen again, that the biochip would take his memory and turn him into a puppet. Hevy doesn't know what it feels like to be influenced by the chip, but for Fox to suddenly become careless underneath its influence...
The Guards are still coming after them as ordered, but perhaps they aren't being as relentless as they could. It's a rebellion—tiny and almost meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but a rebellion all the same. That could explain why they haven't tried to track his comm yet.
"So he's fighting it," Hevy breathes out in awe. "Fox is one of the best. He wouldn't make that mistake if it wasn't intentional."
"I didn't know that was possible," Flak says quietly. "I thought there was nothing you could do to fight it."
"He's not fighting it. He's doing what it tells him, just not as well as he could. I want to get them out of there," Wolffe snarls. His fingers skim over his holstered pistols. For a moment, Hevy hears a quiet grief in his voice—grief over their enslaved brothers who don't have a way out yet.
General Plo Koon raises a gentle hand to calm him.
"We must have patience, Wolffe." Wolffe sighs bitterly.
"Yeah, General. I know. Get your buckets, men. We're making a break for the shuttle."
Hevy hesitates. Suddenly he's afraid again.
"Sir... if I get away I'll lead the Kaminoans back to the 501st and all of our efforts to de-chip the GAR. I'm not... I'm not so sure I should go." Flak reaches out and punches Hevy's arm.
"The kriff are you even suggesting?" the pilot says loudly. "We'll figure it out, but we've got to get out of here first."
"Your alternative is to be captured by the Guard and left at the mercies of whoever's behind all this. I'm not sure that's something you want," Wolffe reminds Hevy sharply. Hevy winces.
"I... don't want that. But—the safety of my brothers is more important. As soon as they figure out that I'm not here anymore—"
"We will not abandon you," General Plo Koon says. His voice is firm. Hevy grimaces. Escape sounds wonderful, but what will it cost them?
"You know... we could just make it seem like we never leave Coruscant," Flak suggests suddenly. Hevy turns to look at him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if they think we die here, they'll stop looking for us," Flak says. "They still might go after the 501st, but they won't immediately know that the entire battalion is de-chipped. Yours could just have malfunctioned for all they know, and that'll give General Skywalker a bit of breathing room."
"You're suggesting that you and Hevy fake your own demise." General Plo Koon tilts his head, tapping clawed fingers against the hilt of his lightsaber.
"It could work," Commander Wolffe says. "But they'll want bodies as proof."
Flak grins.
"We could crash another ship. If the fusion reactor blows, it would make complete sense if they could only find charred armor," he says.
"Flesh would get incinerated, but what about bone?" Wolffe points out grimly. "As morbid as it might seem… we'd need real bodies to sacrifice."
There is a strained silence. Hevy swallows and shifts uncomfortably. It's horrible, but he doesn't know what else to do.
"Let us take care of that," General Plo Koon murmurs. Wolffe jerks his head up to look at the Jedi, eyes widening.
"Sir. Are you suggesting that we—?"
"Bodies from one of Coruscant's GAR morgues would be missed," General Plo Koon says quietly. "And… our own fallen would be pleased to have one last opportunity to help."
Wolffe's expression crumples for a moment. He hides the emotion well, but sorrow lingers in his eyes as he nods once in agreement. Flak bites his lip and looks at the floor. Hevy takes a deep breath.
"So, we could use the bodies as doubles," he says hurriedly. "But after that, how are we supposed to crash a ship while faking our deaths and not actually getting blown up?" Hevy knows how that feels and he isn't keen on repeating it.
"It is not impossible," General Plo Koon cuts in. "Flak's idea has potential. And I will do everything within my power to aid you."
That means a lot, especially coming from a Jedi. Hevy feels a large amount of his unease fade away. They're not alone. Flak grins.
"Good thinking, kid," Wolffe compliments the pilot gruffly. "Let's figure this out, then. We don't have much time."
Droidbait wakes up slowly. He can feel the faint vibration of a ship around him. His head feels… strange, fuzzy. Too light. But his eyelids are heavy and don't obey him when he tries to force them open. He groans in confusion. He tries to lift one arm with the intent to rub his eyes and groans when a tug around his wrist prevents him from raising his hand.
That's… sort of strange. Droidbait blinks his eyes open and immediately squeezes them shut again at the bright light. He grunts and tries to lift himself into a sitting position, but—something stops him from rising. He cranes his neck and peers blearily around to see.
There's a tight strap stretched over his chest, keeping him pinned. He stares at it in shock for a moment before tugging at his wrists again. The haze of confusion is replaced by a rising panic. His wrists are tied down at his sides. When he tries to kick out his legs he feels the pressure of more straps across his knees and ankles.
It comes back to him in a terrifying rush. The shinies had drawn their weapons on Domino. Droidbait had tried to dodge, but he hadn't been fast enough. He'd been stunned. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would shinies do such a thing, unless—
Unless they weren't acting under their own power.
He chokes on air for a moment. It's instinct to jerk against his restraints. Every breath catches in his lungs until he's nearly hyperventilating.
This can't be happening. Droidbait squeezes his eyes shut. No, no, no. He's more aware of himself now. He can still feel the hum of the ship below him, but it isn't familiar. The Resolute is immense, and the heavy hum of its engines is a constant background vibration that Droidbait associates with home and safety. These vibrations lack the necessary weight to be a Venator-class ship. They aren't on the Resolute. Droidbait's terror skyrockets.
His squadmates. Force, where—?
He frantically scans the room for any sign of his brothers. He's in the cargo bay of a ship, laid out flat on a hovering medical gurney. Fives and Cutup are similarly restrained to gurneys on the other side of the room. When Droidbait tips his head back he can see another pair of legs. Probably Echo. His panic subsides a little at the sight of his batchmates, but not by much. Cutup and Fives are completely still. They don't react when Droidbait hisses out their names. Neither does Echo.
He struggles against his restraints to better observe their surroundings. They're alone, for now. The cargo hold is small with a single door. There are various carts of medical equipment positioned around the room.
Droidbait's heart is pounding. They've got to find a way out of here. Who knows where they are, or where they're being taken.
He spends several long minutes testing the restraints around his wrists. The straps are soft but strong. Droidbait twists his arms in every possible direction trying to loosen them and only succeeds in irritating the skin of his wrists. He tries moving his legs as well, but without the help of his knees he can't get enough leverage to fully push against the ankle restraints.
After a few minutes, he hasn't made any leeway. He swallows and turns to look at his batchmates again, hoping that they'll be coming to. Fives is stirring weakly. His eyelids are flickering, but he hasn't made any sound yet.
The door whooshes open. Three clones step through the doorway. Two are armed. The third is carrying a circular comlink in his palm, activated and projecting a figure into the air in front of them. Droidbait sees a long, lithe form and barely stifles a gasp.
"...just starting to wake up, doctor," the shiny with the comlink is saying. He comes right up next to Droidbait. Droidbait tenses as the Kaminoan on the other end of the comm looks down at him. He recognizes her. Every clone knows the chief medical scientist of Kamino.
"What do you know about the inhibitor chips, clone?" Nala Se asks.
Oh Force.
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Droidbait whispers. Cold fear clutches at his chest. "Chips? W-what chips?"
Nala Se scrutinizes him for a long moment. Droidbait tries not to squirm. Finally she turns away.
"An examination will be more productive than questioning. Clones can lie, but our tests will not. Run the level five atomic brain scans on all of them," she orders. "Contact me when you have the results."
"Yes, doctor," the shiny says obediently.
"Wait—wait, what are you going to do with us?" Droidbait asks desperately, craning his neck to stare at the Kaminoan. Nala Se doesn't answer him. Her hologram flickers away. Droidbait bites his tongue in frustration.
Across the room, Fives lets out a moan and shifts restlessly. His eyes blink open slowly.
"...Whhhat—?"
Droidbait can pinpoint the exact moment Fives realizes that he's tied down. Fives jerks, lunging against the restraints with so much force that the medical gurney creaks underneath him.
"Start with CT-2010," the shiny says, helmet tilting down to consider Droidbait emotionlessly. He tucks the comlink into his belt. "Then we'll move on to the others."
"Kriffing—don't touch him. Don't touch them, where the kriff are we—!" Fives snarls. He keeps shaking his head like he's struggling to cast off the fuzzy confusion that always clings to the mind after being stunned. The shinies ignore him.
"Copy that, CT-5385," one of the armed shinies says. Fives lets out a strangled sound. Droidbait can see horrified realization flashing across his face, along with a wild desperation that Droidbait has rarely seen before.
"No—no, 5385—Tup. Listen to me, you're being controlled," Fives gasps out raggedly. He tries to rise again. "Force, no. Tup. Tup!" Fives thrashes, struggling to free himself. His movements are growing wilder and wilder. His eyes are wide, like he's seeing a ghost.
He is seeing a ghost, Droidbait realizes with a jolt of dread. This is a clone that Fives knows from before. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but Droidbait can't remember exactly what role this clone had played in Fives' past life—
"Sedate him." Tup's voice is flat. One of the other shinies mechanically obeys, rummaging through the medical equipment until he finds a hypospray. He brandishes it as he steps towards Fives. Fives bares his teeth as he approaches, futilely attempting to pull away.
"Don't you kriffing dare," Fives snarls. "Wake up! They're using you! Tup, you've got to—get that thing away from me!" Droidbait can see Fives' hands working furiously, straining against the restraints on his wrists. The clone jabs the hypospray into Fives' neck. The ARC jerks and curses. He slams his head back into the table to try and fight the sedative, but it's no use. A moment later, his eyelids droop. Droidbait watches in numb horror as Fives slumps.
Droidbait can't stop his breathing from coming faster when the shinies approach him, but they don't sedate him. Instead they tap something into a little control panel above his head, and the hovering gurney that he's strapped to moves, floating its way towards the door.
Droidbait feels immobilized with fright. This is the worst-case scenario. This is everything going wrong. This is the end of everything they've been fighting for since the beginning of their second lives.
He is floated down a hallway to a second room. A large atomic brain scanner stands in the middle, already booted up and prepared for use. Droidbait can't do anything as the shinies grab a hold of his gurney and push him closer.
"Don't," Droidbait pleads. They don't listen. He hadn't expected them to. They aren't going to react to anything Droidbait says.
The massive scanner tube is intimidating. The shinies guide Droidbait's gurney into position head-first and ease him inside. Droidbait shudders helplessly. He balls his hands into fists and squints against the bright light surrounding him.
"Activate the scanner," one of the shinies says. The scanner hums. The light flares. Droidbait grits his teeth as a strange pressure condenses around his head. It intensifies quickly. It feels like his skull is being shaken apart. Droidbait groans and squeezes his eyes shut.
As soon as it begins, it's over. The scanner lets out a whine as it's powered down. Droidbait pants as his gurney is pulled back out.
"Retrieve the next unit. I'll stay and reset the equipment," one of the shinies says. Droidbait is led back through the hallway until he comes back to the cargo hold. Tup is gone.
Droidbait's gurney gets pushed back into its original position. They take Fives next, disappearing through the door. Droidbait tries to keep his breathing steady, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. There has to be a way to get out of this. There's got to be a way to escape before Nala Se finds out about the chips. They've got to stop her. He doesn't know how yet, but there has to be something they can do. Please let there be a way out.
Droidbait's panicked thoughts are interrupted as Cutup suddenly jolts to consciousness with a desperate inhale. He struggles involuntarily against the straps around his limbs. Jumbled curse words fall from his lips. He tips his head to stare around the room. Droidbait sees his panic escalate as he takes stock of their situation.
"Don't struggle too much or they'll sedate you again when they come back!" Droidbait hisses. Cutup meets his eyes, expression wild and terrified.
"B-Bait—"
"I know, I know, but they already knocked Fives out again and you've got to calm down!" Droidbait says urgently. Cutup closes his eyes and trembles for a moment before struggling to take a deep breath.
"Those shinies, they're—they're being controlled?" Cutup's horror is palpable. Droidbait nods jerkily.
"Yeah," he whispers. His breath hitches in his chest. "Yeah, they're being controlled."
Cutup jerks in his bonds, tugging forcefully at the restraints for a moment. They don't give. He lets his body sag, breathing hard through his nose.
"Where—where are they taking us?" he grunts. Droidbait shakes his head wordlessly, helpless and angry and terrified. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes without warning.
He doesn't see any way out of this. Echo is still out cold. The chipped clones are going to reveal to Nala Se that Domino don't have their chips. If they're going to escape it's down to himself and Cutup, but Droidbait doesn't even know where they are, much less how to get out of the restraints.
He's tried. He's tried so hard to cling to optimism, to find hope even when things are bad, but he's losing that ability more and more with every second he spends strapped to the gurney.
"Where's Fives?" Cutup asks in a low voice. Droidbait struggles to stay calm.
"T-they took him to the other room. They're scanning for the chip… on Nala Se's orders."
Cutup lets out a ragged breath.
"Sithspit."
Cutup doesn't say anything for a moment, slumping down in resignation. His expression crumples. Droidbait aches to reach for him, to grab his shoulders and provide them both assurance that this isn't the end.
This must have something to do with Hevy. It isn't hard to find out who a clone's batchmates are. The Kaminoans have all that information well documented. In the wake of Hevy's speech and Burtoni's order Droidbait isn't surprised that they've been targeted.
The poor shinies must have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now they're slaves being used for the Kaminoans' dirty work.
"So… what's the plan?" Cutup finally asks. "What do we do?"
Droidbait chokes on a bitter laugh. Hysteria threatens to claw its way through his ribcage.
"You think I know?" he hisses, and maybe he raises his voice a little more than necessary but he doesn't care. "Force, Cutup, I don't—I have no idea! This—this could be it. They could kill us right here and now—!"
"Droidbait," Echo suddenly mumbles. Droidbait stills. Echo is awake. The realization brings a wave of relief that calms him for a moment. He looks back to stare at Echo's feet.
"Echo? Are you okay?"
"Fine," Echo groans. "Kriffing peachy. Where are we?"
Droidbait is tired of questions that he doesn't know the answers to, but he bites back his annoyance. Echo can't be blamed for only just now waking up.
"On a ship," Cutup answers. "The shinies… they're scanning us for the chips, Echo."
Echo inhales slowly, exhales even slower. He doesn't fight the restraints like the rest of them had. He only tests them for just a moment before going still again. He doesn't respond, and for a moment Droidbait thinks he's fallen unconscious again.
"Echo?"
"I'm... I'm here. Hang on. I'm thinking."
The door slides open. The shinies return with Fives and reach for Cutup. Cutup meets Droidbait's gaze nervously as he floats out, and then he's gone.
"Fives is still unconscious?" Echo asks grimly.
"They sedated him," Droidbait replies. "One of the shinies… Fives called him Tup. He... knew him from his first life, I assume? He didn't react well, so they knocked him out again."
Echo lets out a quiet curse.
"Yeah, Fives does know him. How many shinies are there?"
"I've only seen three. But there were five that stunned us. And there could be more that we don't know about. Can you… can you get free?"
"With time, maybe."
"We don't have time," Droidbait says anxiously. "They're in contact with Nala Se. They're going to call her once they scan us all." Echo tenses.
"Kriff."
There's a minute of silence. Echo seems to be taking everything in, trying to process and plan. Droidbait hopes he sees a way out of this mess that Droidbait has missed.
The door slides open again. Cutup is returned to his spot. Droidbait tenses. They'll take Echo next, and then they'll contact Nala Se again. Oh Force. They're running out of time. There's got to be something they can do, some way they can stall—!
All of a sudden, a violent explosion rocks the ship. The shiny reaching for Echo's gurney lets out a shout of alarm and tumbles to the floor. Droidbait gasps. Alarms blare. A voice sounds over the ship-wide comms.
"Secure the cargo! Battlestations! We're under attack!"
The vibrations fade away. Droidbait hears the distant boom of more blasterfire. The shiny picks himself up off of the floor and rushes out. The door hisses shut behind him.
"What's going on? Is it pirates? The Republic?" Cutup asks. Droidbait shakes his head cluelessly. His heart leaps in his chest—perhaps there's hope for rescue after all. They wait in tense silence for a few minutes. The ship lurches several more times before the wild blaster fire dies down, and all is quiet.
Droidbait strains to try and hear something, to pick up the slightest hint of what's happening, but he can't make anything out. The silence stretches on for far too long.
"What happened? Did the shinies evade the attackers?" Cutup breathes out after a while. As if he'd summoned them, the door slides open. Droidbait jerks his head up, bracing himself for the worst—
"Hi guys," Tipper says cheerfully as he steps into the room. Zeer and Jesse are right behind him. "Ready to get out of here?"
It's a lot easier to get your hands on important mission materials when there's a Jedi running your errands for you.
General Plo Koon leaves for an hour and comes back with a speeder. Not a little swoop-bike class like Hevy had expected either, but an expensive XJ-6 airspeeder, painted a flashy bright yellow that will undoubtedly attract attention. They have to open the warehouse doors wide in order to get it inside.
"Sir... do I even want to know where you got that?" Wolffe asks the Jedi suspiciously once they've all gathered again. General Plo Koon's expression is hidden by his mask, but Hevy gets the sense that the Kel Dor is smug.
"I believe in this case, ignorance is bliss, Commander."
Wolffe rolls his eyes, but it looks like he's trying to stifle a grin.
The good humor dies a moment later when the General reaches out a hand and gently lifts two black body bags from the back of the speeder with the Force. A solemn hush falls over them all as General Plo Koon respectfully sets the bodies on the floor. Wolffe's shoulders slump.
"I hate this," Flak hisses suddenly. "I hate this, they—they shouldn't be dishonored like this!"
Hevy closes his eyes for a moment. He agrees. Wolffe puts a heavy hand on the pilot's shoulder.
"They were good men. Some my best. They would be happy to know that they were able to help their brothers, even in death," he reassures wearily. The lines in Flak's face soften a bit at the Commander's words.
"We honor them by remembering their names," General Plo Koon says. His voice is slow and weighted with sorrow. "Brake and Fury were killed in battle, defending their brothers. They will be missed. The Wolfpack will not forget their sacrifice."
Hevy exhales slowly. Flak nods.
"Let's make sure it isn't in vain," the pilot says softly. There is a newfound resolve in his voice. General Plo Koon nods, collecting himself.
"I was able to identify several good locations while I was out," the Kel Dor explains. He holds out his comlink in his hand. It projects a map into the air, with several large pedestrian overpasses highlighted in red. He points to one of them. "Though I would suggest this overpass above the rest. There is less civilian traffic here during this time of day, and the debris shield above it will hide us from the Guard's immediate view."
"That's the one we'll use then. Less chance of someone getting hurt. Flak?" Hevy glances over at the pilot. Flak is studying the map intensely.
"Yeah, I can get us there," he finally says. "There are plenty of tight spaces I can use to put distance between us and anyone who comes in pursuit."
The General nods.
"Very good. We will land the shuttle in this hangar." Said hangar is only a block away from the overpass. "Wolffe and I will be waiting on the overpass for your arrival."
"I'll leave you with my comm," Wolffe says, passing the device over to Hevy. Hevy and Flak's personal comms are lying in tiny pieces on the floor. "We'll let you know when we're in position."
"Yes, sir," Hevy and Flak acknowledge. Wolffe shoves his helmet on. General Plo Koon steps forward. He places one hand on Flak's shoulder and the other on Hevy's.
"Gentlemen, may the Force be with you," he says.
"And you, General," Hevy replies, caught off guard by how much the General actually seems to care. General Plo Koon nods at he steps forward and kneels next to the two fallen members of his battalion. He brushes his hands gently along the fabric of the body bags and lowers his head.
He speaks words in a language that is full of sharp consonants and a strange rumble in the back of his throat. Hevy doesn't understand what he says, but he recognizes a goodbye when he sees one. His chest aches at the sight. He has to look away.
Wolffe steps up and puts a hand on his General's shoulder.
"General Plo," he says gently. General Plo Koon nods and gets to his feet. He doesn't say anything more to Hevy and Flak. He leaves the warehouse, his Jedi robe billowing out behind him. Wolffe salutes them solemnly. His gaze lingers on his dead squadmates for a moment longer before he draws himself up and follows his General outside.
Hevy and Flak are still and quiet for a long time after they depart. Finally, Flak sighs.
"This is going to work," the pilot says. "General Plo Koon and the Commander are sacrificing too much for it to not. We'll make it work. For their sakes just as much as ours." Hevy nods in agreement. Determination surges through his veins. The dead will be remembered. Now they have to focus on staying alive.
Hevy isn't nervous. If anything he's relieved to finally have a solid plan again. He's spent the last half a day scrambling just to keep himself from getting captured. It feels good to finally know what he needs to do. With the added support from a Jedi, they finally have a high chance of success.
He and Flak spend several minutes stripping off some of the less conspicuous parts of their armor and placing them in the speeder. They won't need to dress the bodies in the armor. The explosion will tear everything to pieces and scatter them everywhere, so it isn't necessary. Hevy is grateful for the small mercy.
It physically pains Hevy to leave his armor behind, but there isn't another option. He trails his fingers gently over the blue flames that he'd worked so hard to paint and clenches his jaw. He can paint new armor, of course, but… it's not the same. He's had this armor since Kamino.
He pulls off his vambraces and sets them into the speeder, then reaches for his boots—and pauses.
One of his boots is significantly more battered than the other. Hevy reaches for it carefully and tugs it off. When he holds it up to the light, he can just barely make out tiny faded flecks of orange paint around the heel that he's never noticed before.
He's sucked into a memory, all of a sudden—Felucia, mud slipping under his feet, a horrific squelching sound as he'd struggled to pull his leg loose. The walker's massive leg had nearly crushed him right then and there. Cutup had only barely been able to pull Hevy free in time.
Hevy had lost his boot, though. This one doesn't belong to him. He remembers the moment clear as day suddenly, as if it had happened yesterday—
The man that brings Hevy the new armor piece is silent as he hands it over. Hevy swallows nervously as he turns the worn boot over in his hands.
"Who did… whose—?"
"A friend," the other clone says bluntly. His voice is hard, and his visor tips in Hevy's direction as he speaks. "Do me a favor and don't do anything stupid out there. You carry a piece of him with you now, and I don't want to hear that he's been dishonored in any way, understand?"
Hevy sets the boot gently into the speeder.
"I'm sorry," he whispers under his breath. His voice trembles for a moment. "I can't carry you with me anymore. I hope I've been able to honor you like I promised. Thank you."
Hevy hadn't realized that the boot had belonged to a member of the 212th. He'd never taken the time to fully inspect it. He wishes that he had, if only to better remember the man's sacrifice.
Attie had always said, There is no death, there is the Force. Droidbait still echoes the Jedi saying sometimes when he's feeling sentimental. Hevy hopes that the unnamed owner of the boot will forgive him for this, if that is indeed the case.
Hevy gets rid of his other boot in silence. He briefly considers dropping his chestplate next to it, but he can't do that until they're actually on the run. The Guards can't notice that Hevy and Flak are dropping armor before the crash, or they'll grow suspicious. The helmet and chestpiece are the most obvious, so Hevy and Flak will keep those until the last possible moment.
Flak opens a hatch on the front of their speeder to tinker with the airspeeder's fusion reactor. Hevy isn't entirely sure what he's doing, but he's sure that it'll eventually result in the airspeeder being consumed by a blazing fireball. Once they're settled, there's nothing to do but wait. Flak studies their map, committing their route to memory. Hevy opens the warehouse doors as wide as they'll go. When everything else is ready, they spend a few grave minutes lifting the Guard's bodies into the speeder alongside the discarded armor.
Finally, Wolffe's comm goes off.
"We are in position," General Plo Koon tells them. "You may leave when you're ready."
"Copy that, sir," Hevy responds. He shoves his helmet on as he climbs into the speeder. Flak does the same, tapping his fingers over the controls anxiously.
"You alright?" Hevy asks him. Flak shrugs.
"I'll be alright once we're out of this mess. I miss normal life with the 501st."
Hevy wonders if things will ever be normal after this, but he puts a comforting hand on Flak's shoulder anyway.
"We're almost there. We just have to get this done, and then we're home free."
Flak takes a deep breath.
"Let's go, then," the pilot says. He activates the airspeeder and sends them into Coruscant's dimly lit streets.
Once they're out of the warehouse, it doesn't take them long to stumble across a gunship. The Guards had been getting close. Flak weaves them through the buildings in such a way that makes it seem like they're trying to be surreptitious without actually succeeding. The gunship had been hovering over a crossroad, but it gives chase when they pass by underneath it. 501st blue isn't exactly common—they're easily recognized. Hevy reaches for Wolffe's comm again.
"Sir, they're coming after us. We're headed for the overpass."
"Hang on," Flak grits out. The airspeeder accelerates. Hevy gets pressed back against his seat by the g-force. The roar of the gunship behind them is unpleasantly familiar. Hevy glances back and clenches his jaw.
Flak keeps them low to the ground where the gunship has a harder time maneuvering. It stays with them doggedly, but it's forced to drop back and find more accessible routes whenever Flak sends them barreling through smaller alleyways and tunnels. There are some civilians milling about in the streets that dive aside as Flak and Hevy rocket past.
"How much—sithspit—how much farther until we reach the overpass?" Hevy shouts over the howling wind. If they don't hurry, more reinforcements will arrive. They can stay ahead of one gunship, but any more than that will be extremely difficult. Flak jerks the speeder controls to the side. The ship skids as it turns in a ninety degree angle and shoots down another side street. Hevy slams into the side of the speeder and grunts in pain.
"Not much further!" Flak yells back. They pass a squad of Guards on the ground. The squad tries to fire on them, but Flak has the speeder moving far too fast to catch any of their wild shots.
Hevy feels nauseous. It's one thing to be moving this fast in a large shuttle—it's another thing entirely to be in an open-cockpit two-person speeder. The world blurs around him.
Flak takes a turn too fast. There's a sickening screech of metal on metal. The airspeeder jerks uncontrollably as the left side of the ship crumples against a wall like flimsi. Flak swears long and loud.
"Holy kriff I messed that one up. Kriff me, come on, stay with me—!" Flak snarls, half-begging as the airspeeder shudders in protest. The gunship is still coming. They have to be far enough away that the pilot won't see them make their escape. Hevy's stomach churns with nerves. The airspeeder whines from the exertion. It wobbles unsteadily but maintains its speed.
"Get ready!" Flak shouts suddenly. He tears off his helmet with one hand. "We're almost there!"
Hevy jolts. He reaches up to tear off his chestplate and helmet and sets them by his feet. Flak rounds one last corner. They're out of the gunship's line of sight. Suddenly the overpass is above them.
Hevy knows what's coming, but it still drives all the air out of his lungs when suddenly something invisible grabs him. The Force. He goes from hurtling in one direction at seventy clicks per hour to shooting upwards with his feet dangling in midair. His insides twist and jerk in response to the abrupt change. Flak chokes out a ragged gasp next to him. Hevy twists to look below him as their speeder soars away without them.
The General lifts them up so fast that Hevy's head spins from the whiplash. Wolffe reaches out to steady them as the Jedi pulls them underneath the debris shield. Hevy's feet hit the overpass. He drops to his knees and struggles for breath. General Plo Koon is still reaching out, brow furrowed as he sends their abandoned speeder further down the road.
The gunship roars overhead—just in time to see the airspeeder spiral out of control and slam into the ground. It explodes magnificently on impact. The flames are fierce and bright. Hevy has to shield his eyes.
He's still fighting to pull air into his lungs when Wolffe shoves a cloak into his hands.
"Come on, kid," the Commander urges. "They didn't see us, but we aren't completely hidden here. We've got to move."
"Yes, sir," Hevy forces out, still a bit shocked. The gunship is hovering over the crash site in the distance, probably reporting in. They'll check the wreckage once the fire gets extinguished. With any luck, the charred armor pieces will be enough to convince the Guard that Hevy and Flak went down with their ship.
"Flak, Hevy, are you alright?" General Plo Koon asks quietly as Hevy throws the robe on over his blacks. "I apologize. I had hoped to avoid harming you—."
"I know, sir," Hevy tells him. "It's fine. It was necessary."
"We'll live," Flak contributes dryly. Wolffe snorts. He pulls on a cloak of his own and gestures for them to follow.
There are civilians gathering nearby to stare at the crash site curiously. No one spares Hevy and his companions a second glance. Two more gunships soar overhead as they make their way towards the hangar. The shuttle is a welcome sight. Wolffe taps a code into a panel on the side of the ship and gestures them all inside as the ramp descends.
Hevy doesn't dare relax until he's inside the cockpit. Flak almost automatically starts for the pilot seat, but Wolffe bars his way.
"You've done enough for now," Wolffe says firmly. He gives Flak a little shove. Flak stumbles at the touch and scowls. "Sit down. Get some rest."
"Sir, I can still—"
"Your help, while appreciated, is not needed," General Plo Koon says gently as he enters the cockpit. "Wolffe and I are more than capable of piloting this ship. Get some rest, Flak."
Flak hesitates for a moment longer before sagging suddenly. He sits himself down heavily into one of the passenger seats. Hevy follows his lead. A wave of heady relief sucks all the energy from his limbs. He slumps in the chair, all too aware of the way his heart is still pounding in his chest.
"Holy kriff," Flak mutters, eyes wide. "I can't believe that actually worked."
"Whether or not it worked remains to be seen, but your survival is just as impressive a feat," General Plo Koon tells them. He pilots the ship out of the hangar and sends them gently into the sky, unhurried. No one tries to stop them. Hevy is waiting for something to go wrong, but General Plo Koon has a quick discussion with Coruscant Air Traffic Command and they're cleared to leave without delay. Hevy's adrenaline fades away slowly, leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.
It's only once the ship breaks atmosphere that Hevy really allows himself to relax. He releases a massive exhalation of pent-up breath and leans forward to rest his head in his hands.
Force. They're off of Coruscant.
Flak lets out a bout of thin laughter.
"You know, that went a lot better than I expected," he says weakly. His hands are shaking. Hevy reaches for him. Flak gets out of his seat to come closer. Hevy wraps an arm around the pilot's shoulders. For a moment they sit together in silence, processing. Through the front viewport, the familiar shape of a Venator-class ship comes into view. General Plo Koon reaches for the ship's radio.
"Plo Koon to the Wolfpack. Does anyone read us?"
The reply is almost instantaneous. "Loud and clear, General. Welcome back. How was your trip?"
The General glances back at Hevy.
"Successful, Sinker. Please inform the 501st that their brothers are coming home."
Hevy's breath catches in his throat. He closes his eyes.
They're going home.
A/N: Ahahaha, the end of last chapter was originally supposed to be Domino getting stunned by the shinies! I was soooooo tempted. So so tempted. But i resisted the urge because yall have suffered a lot by way of cliffhanger recently ha!
So according to what we've seen in canon about the chips, it's a lot easier to commit little rebellions against the biochip once you're aware of it's existence. In canon Rex was to tell Ahsoka to search for Fives' files. In Dominoes Fox was able to send the Guard squads after Hevy and Flak in the least efficient way possible in an attempt to give them more time to escape.
I know that fanfic is stupid and doesn't let you post links, but for anyone interested, check out thatfunkyopposum 's tumblr! They've drawn some really incredible fanart of Flak that blew my mind!
I do have some bad news... I'm starting summer semester soon... I'm gonna try my best to update as often as I can, but y'all know how it is. Please be patient with me! I've still got a few weeks free, but then I'll be neck-deep in classes, so it might take me longer to get chapters out. Or perhaps I'll shorten the chapter lengths and post less, but try to keep it semi-frequent. We'll have to see what I decide to do.
Anyway, thanks for the incredible support! I love you all and appreciate your kind comments and kudos. Please stay safe out there, until next chapter! meridiansdominoes on tumblr for more!
-meridianpony :)