Rex absentmindedly accepted the pile of flimsiplasts from Echo.

"Four reports today," the cyborg clone said. "Two successful retrievals, one asset denial, and something from one of Howzer's undercover operatives."

"I'll take a look at them later," Rex muttered. "Thanks."

Echo leaned in to take a look at what had captured the captain's attention, but Rex mashed a button, shutting down the datapad's display. Echo raised an eyebrow at the blonde clone.

"Did we get that bacta shipment yet?" Rex asked as nonchalantly as he could, hoping Echo would take the hint.

Echo shook his hardware encrusted head. "Not yet. It's not due until tomorrow."

Rex grunted, then stood, pocketing the datapad. He slapped Echo on the shoulder. "I'm gonna get something to eat. You want anything?"

The captain could tell Echo was still suspicious, but thankfully, Echo was a trusting man. He knew Rex wouldn't hide anything from him out of cruelty.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few minutes. I just need to wrap up a few things."

Rex left the cyborg behind and headed for the mess, where he found Howzer. Rex grabbed a sandwich and joined the green-clad clone.

"Just got the results for that blood sample," Rex said in a low voice, shoving the datapad under the other clone's nose. "Look."

Howzer's eyes widened as he read and re-read the report. "Has Echo seen this yet?"

Rex shook his head.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Rex took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "Not sure. What do you think?"

Howzer stared at the report. "Hard to say. Doesn't seem right not to, but if we do, he'll go running off to tell everyone on Pabu. Before you know it, they'll all be running off to rescue their brother. Again. That can't be good for the kid. She needs the stability. And what if he doesn't want to be rescued, like I said? That'll crush Omega."

Rex nodded slowly. "But if Echo finds out we kept this from him, he'll murder us."

"And then there's that."

Just then, Echo walked in, the sole pale face in a sea of identical brown. They watched him get his food.

"I know what I'll do," Rex said. He flagged down the cyborg, gesturing for him to join them.

"We've got something to tell you, Echo," Rex began.

Echo nodded solemnly. "Does it have anything to do with that report you were reading?"

Rex nodded. "But first, before I say anything else, I need you to swear that no matter what, you won't tell anyone."

Echo raised an eyebrow. "Alright."

Rex grabbed the datapad from Howzer. "Remember the stormtrooper we ran into on that Corellian transport? The one we thought might be Tech?"

"Of course," Echo said sadly.

"We ran into him again and, uh, got a blood sample."

Howzer snorted. "Don't ask how."

Rex shot a glare at the green clone and handed the datapad to Echo. The cyborg's jaw dropped.

"Tech's alive?"

"And he's working as a stormtrooper commando for Tarkin."

Echo stared at the datapad for a long moment, the sandwich in his other hand completely forgotten. "We have to go rescue him."

Rex and Howzer exchanged a look. "We will," Rex reassured the cyborg."

"But we feel like we need to do this ourselves," Howzer said. "We don't want the Bad Batch getting involved."

Echo rolled his eyes. "If this is because of your beef with Crosshair–"

"It's not," Howzer said quickly. "It's for the same reason Rex didn't want to tell you we were going to Bora Vio to find out if it was actually Tech–"

"You went where?" Echo glared at Rex.

"I didn't want to get your hopes up," Rex said, holding his hands up defensively. "After he shot you, I figured it probably wasn't Tech. But I had to make sure. Howzer got a tip that the same stormtrooper squad was headed to Bora Vio, and we went to check it out."

Echo looked torn. "I suppose I can't blame you. You're still a scughole, though. I can handle myself and my emotions. You should have trusted me."

Rex slumped a little and glanced at Howzer. "You're right. Seems to be something I need to work on."

Howzer placed a hand on Rex's shoulder. "Your heart was in the right place."

He turned back to Echo. "You might have been able to handle it just fine, but you're an adult. Omega's just a kid. We don't want to get her hopes up. You know how she is. If Tech doesn't want to come with us, it'll hit her the hardest."

"Yeah," Echo admitted. "That's true. And the others can't keep a secret from her even if their lives depended on it."

"How're we gonna get him out?" Howzer asked. "He's stationed on Executrix , Tarkin's Star Destroyer. That's going to be tough, even for us."

Rex thought for a minute. "You've got an inside man who can tip us off whenever his squad goes on missions, right?"

Howzer nodded.

"We'll have to nab him while he's out on one of those."

Echo looked up from the datapad. "You said he's on the Executrix ?" He pointed at Rex. "That was the report I handed you. The undercover operative who sent it was stationed aboard the Executrix ."

"Yeah, that's Hardline," Howzer said. "He's got orders to listen for any technological developments the Empire might have cooking and scuttle them, if possible. I was hoping he could get some intel on Tarkin's Project Stardust, but he thinks he was on an away mission when they visited the main facility."

Rex turned to Echo. "What was in the report?"

"The Imperials captured a clone," the cyborg said. "Seems the poor fellow was experimented on and in pretty bad shape when they found him. Hardline said he was going to try and get the clone out, if possible."

"Alright," Rex said, returning his attention to his sandwich. "Howzer, get in touch with Hardline. Let's see if we can coordinate the two rescue missions and get both our brothers out."

Tech was falling. Omega and Wrecker were watching him, horror written on their faces. Their faces morphed into Hemlock leering at him as a chamber sealed around Tech, bringing on pitch darkness and unimaginable cold. Hemlock's face transformed into Crosshair's gaunt face.

"This isn't you," the gaunt clone said. But then he lunged, plunging an electrospear crackling with purple energy deep into Tech's chest–

Wham wham wham.

CX-2 jolted awake at the sound of banging on his door. Gulping air, he blinked several times to banish the last of the nightmare and wiped away the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand. He forced his breathing to slow, waiting until his heart ceased trying to pound its way out of his chest.

Still exhausted, CX-2 stood. He hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time over the past couple of days thanks to these dreams. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind plunged him off the edge of a cliff and into the clutches of yet another nightmare. Maybe by repressing that memory, his mind had been trying to protect him from this. Now he just felt raw and tired.

Wham wham wham.

CX-2 glared at the door. He should probably answer it, though he was tempted to ignore it and deal with the consequences later. He rubbed his eyes, pulled on his corrective lenses, and mashed the door release.

Ferrus was standing there, helmet tucked under one arm. She brushed past him, then closed the door.

"Sorry," she muttered. "What we're about to do could land us both in front of a firing squad. Don't need the whole ship hearing us."

She sat on the bed. She wrung her hands together, seemingly oblivious to CX-2's exhaustion.

"If you are uncomfortable with this, you are not obligated to continue," CX-2 pointed out. He went over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water to wash the sour, dry taste out of his mouth.

Ferrus glared at him. "I'm not backing out. I just don't want to end up dead for it. I think that's reasonable." She sighed. "Kirgard says we'll get the call any minute."

CX-2 nodded. "You seem nervous."

"We are breaking about a dozen regs."

CX-2 wondered why Ferrus was doing this for him. It wasn't just that she was willing—she was eager to help him. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair, trying to straighten any flattened bits.

"I've been thinking about what you asked me before the Bora Vio mission," Ferrus continued. "About finding an officer to help you research. There's a guy I know down in the lab who should have the sort of clearance you need. Since I'm headed that way anyway, I can ask him if you'd like."

"How well do you know this officer?" CX-2 asked. He glanced at his chrono. He didn't need to be up for another two hours, but now that he was awake, he was certain he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

Ferrus blushed. "We dated for a few months. I ended it because he didn't seem all that interested in me. I mean, he was, just not as much as I thought he should be."

She cleared her throat and looked away, still blushing. "He's never been one for politics. Doesn't pay attention to much outside his lab. I doubt he'll care or ask why we want the information."

CX-2 nodded. "He does appear to be an ideal candidate."

"I'll go ahead and ask him on one condition."

CX-2 knew what her request would be before she said it. His heart sank.

"After we're done here, go talk to Pare."

CX-2 grimaced. "The point of asking for help from someone other than Kirgard or Dahl was to avoid Pare."

"If you go to him yourself, he's bound by regulations to keep the information to himself until he deems you unfit for duty."

CX-2 poured himself another glass of water and chugged it. He set it down, not looking at Ferrus.

"You think I am unfit for duty."

"Yes."

Her bluntness surprised CX-2 into looking at her. She was watching him with a mixture of pity and worry.

"I don't mean that in a bad way," Ferris said. "But you nearly got killed because your brain isn't working properly. Pare can help."

"My brain is functioning normally."

"That's a lie and you know it. Healthy brains don't randomly decide to check out from reality."

CX-2 had to concede the point, but still had no interest in going to see Pare. "I might as well ask Kirgard to help with my research, then."

Ferrus shook her head. "If Kirgard decides you're asking the wrong questions or digging up anything he deems dangerous, Pare will be the least of your worries. And you have absolutely no idea what you're going to find in that file. For all you know, it could be very dangerous. My friend down in the lab wouldn't care even if you were looking up recipes for dangerous viruses that could annihilate entire populations."

CX-2 frowned. "That is disturbing. One should at least inquire when such subject matters are being investigated."

"Did I mention I'm not dating him anymore?" Ferrus shrugged. "Go see Pare, and I'll talk to Lance. Deal?"

CX-2 sighed. "Fine."

Ferrus fiddled with her helmet. "Are you excited to hear what that clone says?"

CX-2 finally sat beside her. "I am more apprehensive, to be honest. After the flashback on Bora Vio, I am even more confused about my past than I was before. I do not relish finding out more information only to become more confused."

Ferrus nodded knowingly. "You wish you could just sit down with someone and have them tell you all about your past life."

"Well, obviously. But that is not an option. I fear that I may find many pieces to this puzzle only to discover that some of them are still missing."

"Would you rather not know anything?"

"No."

CX-2 looked down at his hands, one of which was the droid hand that had replaced the one that Hemlock had given him after that fateful fall. He'd thought a lot about that memory over the last few days. Now that he knew he had a family somewhere out in the galaxy, he felt an undeniable pull to find them. He needed them as much as he needed his sight or his hands.

But the search for them seemed daunting and impossible from where he sat. He was a stormtrooper for the Empire. He couldn't just leave whenever he felt like it. He didn't have easy access to the ability to research his family. And for all he knew, they might be difficult to find, even if he did have that access.

If he hadn't learned about them, he would have happily continued on as a commando for Tarkin, satisfied with his work.

Now, armed with the knowledge that he was not who he'd thought he was, and the certainty that he had a family out there who cared for him, he felt…dissatisfied. Disconnected from his work. And the idea of Kirgard being able to activate whatever switch CX-2 had in his brain to turn him into a mindless weapon rankled CX-2.

Ferrus's comlink beeped. "Ferrus."

"Kirgard. Time to go."

"I'll be right there," she replied. She stood and replaced her helmet. Her voice came through filtered and mechanical.

"Keep your comms open," the clone reminded Ferrus.

Ferrus tilted her head in annoyance, then turned and left.

Ferrus kept her posture rigid as she marched into the lab beside Tarkin and Kirgard. Her heart was fluttering madly, and she was grateful for her helmet, which masked the sweat running down her face. If this was going to work, she needed to give both the moff and her captain zero reason to suspect anything other than the highest professionalism from her.

She'd used a pen to blacken the indicator light on her comlink and tested it with CX-2 to make sure it didn't do its telltale flash. Unfortunately, that also meant she wouldn't know if it was on. She also had to pray that CX-2 kept silent on his end. If he accidentally flicked his off of mute, they'd be exposed.

As they moved into the room, Ferrus and Kirgard took up station on either side of the door as they had the other day. The room was filled with various lab techs carrying datapads. One of them locked eyes with Ferrus as he passed, nodding and smiling courteously.

A clone? Ferrus thought. But then her attention was drawn to the other side of the room where a giant window of clear transparisteel showed the inside of a stark cell.

From her vantage point, Ferrus could see quite well into the cell. The lab technician she'd told CX-2 about, Captain Lance Nev, sat at a metal table across from the clone they'd found on Cathulia. Nev was rail-thin and tall enough that his knees hit the underside of the table. His eyes were bright with interest, watching the misshapen clone, who'd been cleaned up, shaven, and given a haircut. The clone was chewing on a fruit. His jaw didn't line up properly, causing him some difficulty in taking a bite.

Ferrus felt a little unsettled as she noticed that he shared several of CX-2's features, despite his deformities.

Juice dribbled out of the clone's mouth, pooling on the tabletop.

"How did you get him to talk?" Tarkin asked.

A lab tech looked up from his datapad. "We used positive reinforcement. He had only negative associations with speaking, so we rewarded him whenever he provided the desired behavior; in this case, making any kind of noise. Gradually, we coaxed him into communicating with us. He was a fast learner once he realized what we were doing."

Inside the cell, the clone finished off his fruit and licked his fingers. He looked expectantly at Captain Nev. Nev looked through the window at Tarkin.

"You may proceed," the moff said into a mic at his elbow.

"I know it's difficult," Nev said, handing the clone another fruit. "We are going to get you the medical help you need. But before we do that, I need you to answer some questions."

The clone took a bite, swallowed, then wiped the juice from his mouth with his sleeve.

"What is your name?" Nev asked.

The clone blinked, frowning, as though not understanding the question.

"What did they call you?"

Understanding lit in his uneven eyes. "235."

Ferrus felt a jolt of recognition at that voice. Despite the warped creature's appearance, his voice was eerily similar to CX-2's. She doubted she could ever get used to that.

"Good. Thank you, 235. Do you know how old you are?"

235 shook his head.

"That's alright. The medical staff can help you figure that out. Were there others like you?"

235 winced, then nodded.

"Many, or a few?"

"Many."

"Can you guess how many?"

"I was in the Fifth company. Fifty of us per company. Seven companies."

Three hundred and fifty clones. Ferrus shuddered. Had Hemlock experimented on all of them? Had they all ended up like this? Her thoughts went back to the cell back on Cathulia lined with twisted skeletons.

"All like you?"

"Strand casts like me? Yes."

Nev tilted his head in confusion. "Strand…cast? I am unfamiliar with this term."

235 frowned and was silent. He dragged a dirty fingernail through the juice puddle on the table.

"235?" Nev asked.

"Copies," 235 said. "Like…clones, but…" His face twisted up, apparently having difficulty explaining. "Not quite like clones. Better than clones, in theory. We were born as clones, just like the rest. Born on Kamino, I think. I don't remember. Then they took us. They added something called M-count to our blood. Drew our blood, checked our M-count. It twisted our bodies. Eventually, it killed each of us. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow."

Nev made a note. "And survivors?"

"None. Not after the treatment."

Nev made another note. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but 235 spoke first.

"Never worked, though," 235 mumbled around his fruit. "Never made anyone a Jedi."

The clone's words sent a ripple throughout the observation room. Jedi?

Nev leaned in closer. "Jedi?"

235 nodded as he sloppily bit into the fruit. "Overheard the doctor talking to someone once."

"He said he was trying to make Jedi?"

235 shrugged his uneven shoulders. "He said M-count came from Jedi. Why else would he give us M-count?"

Nev looked through the glass at Tarkin as though looking for guidance. Whatever the scientist had been expecting the mutated clone to say, it hadn't been that.

Tarkin leaned forward and spoke into his mic. "Ask him how he survived when the others died."

Nev relayed the question to the clone.

235 let out a strangled sort of cackle. "Look at me. It's only a matter of time. A month, a year…They left me to die when they left. They did not continue the serum, so I didn't die as soon. I may not die as fast as the others, but what Hemlock did will kill me."

Nev reached out a hand and gingerly placed it on the clone's sticky hand. "We will do some more tests and figure out what is wrong with you. Once we do, we can work towards curing you of your ailments."

This prompted a sharp bark of laughter from 235. "Didn't you hear me? I'm already–"

The room around Ferrus exploded.