Chapter 2 - We Are The Ones You Loathe (1:1)
Author's Note: NO I'M NOT FOCUSING ON CROSSHAIR BECAUSE HE'S MY FAVORITE Y'ALL KNOW WHY I'M DOING IT I DON'T NEED TO SPELL IT OUT *SOBS*
~ Rivana Rita
This is for the Clone OC bingo square of "Post Order 66". :D
~ Amina Gila
Waiting outside the medbay is... boring. And draining. I don't like it. Then again, I'm pretty grumpy about most things in life so that doesn't say much.
It's amazing when the doors finally slide open, letting us spill into the room. Hunter is first, as always, and Wrecker saunters in up ahead. I run in after, using my small size to squeeze past the others and beeline to Omega and Echo's sides. AZI is hovering over him, rambling.
"Ha! Told you he's alive!" Wrecker cackles, waving his arms, "You owe me two credits."
Crosshair just shakes his head, and whether that's a 'you're an idiot', a 'not now', or a 'don't embarrass us' gesture, I have no idea.
"CT-1409's condition is stable," AZI announces, turning around, "But I have some distressing news for the rest of you. According to your test results, you all appear to be genetically defective clones."
Wrecker jolts, looking wide-eyed at the others. Tech adjusts his goggles. Hunter and Crosshair don't even blink.
Huh? "We already know that, AZI," I remind.
"I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation," AZI declares, leaving the room. I watch as the door closes behind him, a bit mind-blown.
"We've got a problem," Echo says, and I whip around to face him. Please tell me he's not losing his mind, too.
"How?"
"Not really," Tech replies, "We're more deviant than we are defective."
"Not that," Echo says, shaking his head, "Admiral Tarkin's here. He's the one evaluating the clones." Who's that?
From how Wrecker jerks back a bit and looks to Tech, then to Hunter, who looks back at him, I'm guessing they know. "The same Tarkin from the Citadel rescue when you, uh... how shall I put this?" Tech asks.
"Blew up?" Wrecker queries, jolting forwards. He looks far too cheerful about it.
"And turned into that?" Crosshair adds, jabbing in Echo's general direction with his toothpick.
Echo sighs. "Yes. And he's not a big supporter of clones."
"We'll soon find out. We've been summoned by the prime minister," Hunter adds. I bite my lip at the stab of nervousness shooting through me. I... don't know what to think about that, and I don't like it. I didn't mean to get my brothers in trouble. Neither 'mega nor I did – we were defending them. It wasn't supposed to get so out of hand. I didn't think. Didn't know I needed to.
"Guess he didn't find that mess hall fight amusing. But I sure did," Wrecker volunteers.
"Me too," I offer. "While it lasted."
"Come on," Hunter says, uncrossing his arms and turning for the door. "Let's get this over with."
"What about me?" I ask, shifting, shuffling forwards, then pausing. I don't really want to get in trouble for this, but this was my fault, too. I still participated, and it's only fair to – "Do I come?"
"Wait for us in our quarters," he replies, moving for the door.
"Wait! The fight was my fault!" Omega objects, sprinting forwards and planting herself between them and the doorway. "I'm going too." And that right there is every bit of the fierce passion she's always had – that kept her stubbornly looking for her brothers, no matter how many years they've spent apart. Their time apart is longer than I've been alive.
"Not happening," Hunter tells us firmly, "We'll handle this." The others are already moving for the door.
I shift, uncomfortably. I have a sinking feeling in my gut, and I don't like it. "Okay," I whisper, though I sound small. I don't want them out of my sight.
"But I –" Omega starts protesting.
Hunter pauses again, turning around. The permanent scowl on his face looks deeper, but I don't think he's angry. Unless we did really, really screw up, and he hasn't called us out on it yet. That's never happened before. "Our squad's nothing but trouble, kid. For your sake, keep your distance."
I squeeze Omega's hand as the others disappear from sight. She watches them, pain lingering heavily in her eyes.
"He doesn't understand," I murmur, "He doesn't know what you are to them."
"I don't want them to know," Omega says, looking away, "Nala Se said it would distract them."
I bite my lip. "But you're not a distraction."
"You don't know that!" There's a deep running, aching desperation in her voice now. In this moment, I hate everything that made her feel like that.
"Yes, I do!" I huff. "You're not to me! To me, you mean everything."
I'd think she would be touched by that. Instead, her shoulders slump farther. "Nala Se is waiting," Omega supplies finally. "We should go."
I just stand there, awkwardly, uncertain – I didn't screw up for the second time somehow, did I? I want to help, but most of the time, it's like I just... can't. (Kinda reminds me of Crosshair. Isn't that sweet?) "I'll... just go to their quarters," I mutter finally, shrugging one shoulder and leaving the room, no matter how much it hurts to walk away.
**w**
I'm lonely. It's maddening. It's childish. They should be back soon, but the uncertainty is hanging in the air because I don't know how much trouble they'll be in this time, and I think something is very wrong.
It's not as if this is the first time I've been alone here for a while, either. It happens sometimes. I'm... one of them, but I'm not. It's a bit like Echo, I guess – I'm half here, half elsewhere. But unlike Echo, the other part of me is floating, nowhere, with nothing. I don't really know what that missing piece of me belongs with.
The room is too big, too quiet without them. I approach Crosshair's bunk hesitantly, tracing my fingers across the edge, soaking in the foggy-soft feel. It's... weird, but it's gentle.
I didn't fully fit with 'mega either, sister or no. I'm not really their sibling though – and that's probably the issue right there. It doesn't really feel like I fit anywhere, period.
I just need... something. To do something. I did threaten to paint their barracks. I don't think they have paint here though. I wander across the room and slide open one of the crates, anyway, just to see if I can find something cool. I'm not touching Tech's technical mess if my life depends on it, after all.
The only thing I find that seems... oddly unfamiliar is a vibroblade a little smaller than Hunter's. Its handle is slightly shorter. I pick it up, flipping it over – the hilt is big, but it feels like something I could get used to. Is it the one he started learning with?
I'll add that to the eternal list of questions I have.
By the time the door slides open what must be at least half an hour later, I'm on my knees on Crosshair's bunk, happily etching a ridiculous assortment of hearts into it. Is he going to kill me for this? Probably. I'm giggling anyway though. I just expected to be done before they returned.
I jump off Crosshair's bunk with a yelp. "I can't find either purple or green paint," I volunteer, "But I thought staring at the same spot on the ceiling would get boring eventually."
No one is up for my antics right now, clearly. Not even Wrecker.
"Live rounds!" Wrecker yells, throwing his helmet onto the table so hard it bounces off and sails across the room, crashing into something else. I flinch, re-sheathing the knife as fast as possible, sliding it behind me out of sight. "They used live rounds! On us!"
My jaw drops. Stars, what happened!?
"We were there, Wrecker," Tech unhelpfully supplies, "We know."
"I tried to warn you about Tarkin," Echo interjects as they gather around.
"Who's that Imperial snake think he is?" Wrecker growls. And that's when I notice the black, scorch spot on Wrecker's armor.
A quiet gasp escapes me, and I drop the knife onto the edge of one of the crates by Crosshair's bunk, darting forwards to him.
"Stow it, already. You got shot. It happens all the time," Crosshair throws back.
I whip around to face him. Actually, everyone does. "No, it doesn't!" I yell at him, hurt and confused. "What is wrong with you?" How can he not care? How can he even pretend not to care?! This is his brother. They grew up together. If someone shot Omega, I'd already be gutting them. Probably literally.
"There's a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice," Tech replies, and there's a strangely hard note in his voice that I've never heard before. He's angry, too. Because that, apparently, happens.
"Exactly! We're not dummy droids," Wrecker agrees fiercely.
"That much, we agree on," a voice says from the doorway, and there's a certain roughness to it that immediately makes my skin crawl, and I instantly press myself closer to Wrecker's side.
Someone – presumably some Imperial officer, probably the one they've been talking about – is standing in the doorway, flanked by two members of the Coruscant Guard.
The Batch instantly snaps to attention, and Hunter slips his knife away. Silently, I just hope I'm invisible between Crosshair and Wrecker, because this is one time, I do not want to draw attention. Normally, I need it, but something instinctive I don't understand is whispering at me to be quiet and invisible, because something about this person is – is – sickening. It feels like my skin is crawling backwards.
"That was quite an impressive display," the Imperial continues, stepping inside.
"Didn't have much choice," Hunter throws back darkly.
"Our new Empire may have methods which seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron. Both certainly have their merits," the Imperial replies. Suddenly, I'm glad I put that knife down, because I want to throw it in his face so badly. "Nala Se speaks quite highly of her enhanced clones. She claims you're more capable than an army."
He's moving closer, and I don't move, stupidly hoping that staying still will keep from drawing his attention.
"And I didn't see this one earlier," he says, looking down at me.
"My name is Vision," I reply flatly, lifting my chin, glaring. You shot my brother, I want to snarl at him, but I still have a tiny sense of self-preservation that's keeping me quiet.
"She's still training," Hunter interjects, "She's from a – later batch."
"I see," he says. He's still looking at me, though.
"You have a mission for us, sir?" Hunter inquires.
"Indeed," the Imperial confirms, turning around. The tension doesn't fade, though. All my brothers are angry. I can feel it crackling in the air. "We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with."
"What sort of insurgents?" Echo demands.
"Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war. If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army."
Is that blackmail?!
No one moves until the Imperial leaves the room and the door closes behind him.
"Who was that?" I ask, breaking the silence, reaching up to touch Wrecker's arm.
Echo huffs out a sigh. "That was Tarkin."
Ah. I make a sound of acknowledgement. "What happened?"
"We were called to the training room," Hunter replies, "They switched to live rounds."
My hands clench. "But they can't do that! I didn't know they... could." There's a really childish part of me that suddenly wants to cry. I don't understand most of my random emotional urges. They're mostly just annoying. Omega has the patience to deal with it, but no one else does. Not that I've ever really known anyone else.
"Alright, we have a mission to do," Hunter says finally, spurring everyone forwards, "Echo and Tech, prep the ship, and see what else you can find out about this mission. Wrecker and Crosshair, restock our weapon supplies."
"Ohhh, can I go with them?" I ask, "I wanna see the armory." I've always wanted to go there, though I've never had much reason to. Wrecker raves about his explosive buddies all the time, so...
Hunter looks to the others, then back at me.
"Yeah!" Wrecker cheers, already pulling me out the door. Mostly, I could use the distraction. I don't want to think about how the Empire hurt him, or about how Crosshair just brushed it off. Not about Tarkin, or anything, or... or how I think something is terribly wrong. I just wish 'mega was here.
**w**
"Can I ask you something?" I inquire, grabbing Crosshair's hand. He does that sort of jolt-twitch thing that he did the first time I hugged him, like he's expecting someone to stab him or something. We're on the way to the armory, and this has been bugging me for ages now.
"What?" he asks, looking down at me, though he doesn't pull away.
"Stow it already" my mind whispers, and I violently shove that away. I don't know what that was all about, but I need to ask this, mostly for Omega's sake right now. Focus. And mostly, I feel least weird to approach him – I know him the best.
"It – um – what does it take to be one of you?"
He pauses briefly, then keeps walking, pulling his hand back. It's not rough – it's gentle, strangely so, but it still hurts. Because I don't really belong here, either. "By what standards?" he asks.
What does that mean? "You might not know 'mega, but she's still one of us," I tell him sullenly, "She belongs with us."
"Hm," he supplies.
Yeesh, sometimes, talking to Crosshair is like talking to a brick.
"You okay, kid?" Wrecker asks, patting my shoulder.
I look away. "Not really." I don't even know what's wrong. I can't shake the strange, deep and gaping emptiness in my heart. I instinctively press myself closer to Crosshair. I don't really know why I seek him out every time I need something, even if I'm still angry at him.
I twitch at the sudden, unexpected feel of Crosshair's hand on my shoulder. I duck my head, pressing my cheek to his hand. Something is burning in the back of my mind at the contact. I have to be careful about touching things, but I'm Seeing something I can't ignore. I see him – Crosshair, the soft little fluffball that he's always been (even if he's still the most annoying person I've ever met) – strapped onto something like a medtable and –
It's a brief flash, but then it's gone, and I'm standing here again, clinging to them both, panting. It feels like I can't breathe at all, and a shiver snakes down my spine. "Stars," I rasp, "I don't wanna lose you." Like 'mega did, my mind whispers.
"You won't," he promises. There's a certain strange fierceness in his voice I haven't heard before. "I'm not going anywhere."
Lie, something whispers, but I believe him anyway. "Why?" I ask, feeling the sudden need to lighten the conversation. "Because you need someone around to annoy you?"
I yelp and duck away when he reaches for my hair again. "Meanie! You could just say you want me around so you can pull my hair, you know."
Crosshair scoffs.
"Hey, don't bother the kid," Wrecker scolds, shooing him away.
"See?" I gripe, "Wrecker is much nicer than you."
**w**
The armory is... it is. It's fun though. And I spend a while climbing over the shelves, which is fun, until I get stuck, and Wrecker has to come pull me out. Which is fine. It's actually pretty fun, despite Omega's glaring absence. I always feel lonely and empty without her. We've always been together, and I don't like it when we're not. I'm all she has, too.
When we finally arrive at the hangar, Echo and Tech are conversing in front of the Marauder before Echo disappears inside. "I'll say this for the Empire," Wrecker announces cheerfully, "They know firepower. You should see the new armory."
"He actually cried," Crosshair supplies dryly.
"Hey," Wrecker argues, elbowing him, "We both did."
"There's no room on board for that," Tech objects, gesturing to the crate Wrecker's dragging around.
I give him a dubious look. "Tech, there's no room in your barracks to breathe."
"Yeah?" Wrecker throws back, "Well, I'll make room." He hoists the crate off the cart he was carrying it on (I'm amazed he wasn't carrying it the whole time), heading for the ramp. "A new mission and unlimited explosives. Things are back to normal."
"That's not going near my rack," Tech protests, practically running after his little brother as he disappears inside. "I refuse to sleep by a projectile again."
"Again?" I query, running after. "And what's so wrong with that? It sounds fun. What could go wrong?"
"There are countless potential complications," Tech informs me, and I immediately regret my decision. "A potential detonation could result in –"
"Never mind," I reply, hands raised, backing away. "Pretend I said nothing." I run back outside before he can stop me.
Crosshair is at the bottom of the ramp, and Hunter is... near the doorway to the hanger, talking to Omega. Again. And suddenly, that feeling of wrongness is back full-force, and I dart down the ramp, approaching them.
"I don't trust him," I hear Omega saying. She sounds scared.
"A mission's a mission," Hunter assures, "It's nothing to worry about."
"What's wrong?" I query, skidding to a stop beside them.
"It's that Imperial officer," Omega answers.
"Tarkin," I supply.
"I think he has it out for you all," she adds, expression pinched with worry.
"Vision, do you See anything?" Hunter asks me.
I glance up at him. "I... Saw something on the way to the armory. Crosshair. Everything I'm Seeing is about him. I think something's going to happen to him."
"Do you know what?"
I shake my head. "No. Not really." I have to force myself not to turn back to look at him, just to make sure he's there and alright. He said he wasn't going anywhere. He promised. Hunter will protect him, all of them. I don't need to worry, but I can't help it. "But Tarkin was... he really creeps me out, too."
"Can we go with you?" Omega queries imploringly.
For a moment, I think he might agree. "It's dangerous," Hunter replies finally. "You're not trained soldiers."
"But it's dangerous here, too!" Omega protests. "Things aren't like before. We need to leave Kamino."
Leave. She's talking about leaving – with them, our brothers – the one thing we've always dreamed of doing. And somehow, looking around, I think we will. It's a strange feeling, but I don't think I'll see this place again. "She's right," I agree, looking up at him. We need to go.
"Hunter, let's go!" Wrecker yells from inside.
Hunter pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "Vision," he requests, "Tell me what you See."
I reach out for him, and he – albeit very awkwardly – lets me take his hand. None of them understand how to be affectionate much, it seems. But it's soft and warm and comforting and I can't help thinking that he feels so... grounding. It's soothing, and not in the way Crosshair is. Hunter makes me feel protected. Crosshair just makes me feel belonging. Both are... important.
I close my eyes and reach out, delving inside myself.
I see bits, flashes, nothing I can make sense of. They're silhouetted in a forest somewhere, Hunter and Crosshair facing each other again, and there's a strange tension in the air I don't like. It reminds me of what I saw during... whatever that was.
"Ah. That would complicate things," Tech's voice says, and I see myself leaning against the Marauder's doorway, fingers curling into the metal. Omega's hand is on my arm, and she's pressed against my side.
"Just complicate?" I hiss.
"Tech," Omega asks, and she sounds so, so scared. "What are we going to do?"
Then it's gone, and I yank away from Hunter, eyes wide. "It – we –"
I hear footsteps behind us. Nala Se is coming in search of Omega, and we need to – I should have been paying more attention. We could already be gone. Should already be gone.
"Omega," Nala Se's voice calls as she approaches us.
I look up at Hunter, wide-eyed, panic clawing through me. We have to go. I have no idea what that was, and why was no one else there?!
He catches my gaze and gives a subtle shake of his head. I instantly deflate, frustration washing through me. He's right – there's no choice. They need to go, and Omega and I will be staying, as we always do. I just want to go.
Not that we have that choice, anyway.
"Change takes getting used to," Hunter says, standing and stepping back. "You'll see. Just give it time." There's more he wants to say. I can see it in his eyes – he doesn't want to walk away, but Nala Se is here, and he can't take us with them.
Instead, all we can do is stand and watch as he rejoins the others, and after a brief exchange with Crosshair, boards the ship. The ramp closes, the engine fires, and the Havoc Marauder lifts out of the hangar.
My hands clench together tightly, tears pricking at my eyes for reasons I can't fully understand. I just...
I just want to leave.
**w**
Being alone in their quarters again is torture. I'm not even being dramatic, but I could swear the universe itself is trying my patience and just wants to see how much it'll take before I snap and start screaming or something. I'm normally not this short-tempered, but sometimes... yeah. Sometimes.
I curl up in Hunter's bunk, burying my face against his pillow, breathing in. Hunter's enhanced senses include smell, I think, and I used to think that was weird, until I didn't. The room smells like them. It feels like home.
But I could've gotten them all... hurt, anyway. I don't know how serious this is. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't talk to Hunter about it. I should've. If I had, maybe... we could have done something. Maybe we could've just left like 'mega wanted.
It was my mistake, my own stupid little slip up, and I have no idea what'll happen because of it.
I miss them.
Even curled around Lula, and with the picture I took of my brothers shortly after I met Echo beside my head, I can't sleep.
I don't remember falling asleep, anyway, though I'm jolted awake at the sound of the door opening.
"Viz?" Omega calls quietly, stepping inside.
"Here," I reply, propping myself up on my elbow, rubbing my eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Of course, that's the first thing she asks me. "Yeah," I reply, even if it's not entirely true. "Mostly. It's just that... they're going to come back for me." We don't leave our own behind. None of us would, for all that we sometimes squabble with each other. It's the core of who we are.
"Do you think they'll be okay?"
"I don't know," Omega confesses. She turns to scan the room, and I slide off Hunter's bunk, leaving Lula there. "What is all this stuff?"
"My scanners are indicating an assortment of armament, curios and detritus of little to no value," AZI volunteers, and I giggle.
"I like it," my sister says, grinning. I try my best not to think about how this may be the last time we're here together. Something is going to happen. Something dark. Either way, 'mega's here now. This is where she's wanted to be for so long, and I need to show her around.
"We should not be here, Omega. Nala Se instructed us to stay in the medical wing," AZI protests.
"Don't worry," Omega replies, "We're on a... research assignment."
"A research assignment?!" AZI asks, spinning around, and she nods. I have to smother a laugh – she's lying, and I know it. "Those are my favorite. What is it we are searching for? Is it this?"
Omega is turning away to take in everything, and I take off back to Hunter's bunk. Our skull symbol is painted on the wall behind us. "I took this," I tell her, snatching up the picture of our brothers. It's by Hunter's bunk, and it's his without officially being his. "It was right after Echo joined."
She darts over to me and climbs onto the edge of the bunk, taking the framed picture from my hands.
There's a wistful look in her eyes as she looks at them. I sit next to her, our shoulders touching. I know the meaning this moment has to her, and I don't want to interrupt it.
It's interrupted, anyway, though, when AZI screams in the background. Actually screams.
"Sh!" Omega hisses, jumping off the bunk and setting down the picture. "People will hear us!"
"Keep it down!" I whisper-hiss, scrambling after her.
"I have concluded this space is unfit for habitation," AZI announces shakily.
And that's when I hear something outside the door. Someone's coming, and I don't know why. No one should be coming, and it's not our brothers. I always know when they're coming back. I See it.
"Someone is coming," Omega says, darting for the door. "Time to go."
The door opens, and Omega crashes into the person in the doorway. I steady her, and the sudden weight of her crashing into me is nearly enough to throw us both to the floor.
"Watch where you're going!" I instinctively yell up at the reg in the doorway.
"You're not authorized to be in here," the reg accuses.
"Yes, I am," I snap back. How are we supposed to deal with these things? Hunter isn't here to handle it for us.
"I... got lost," Omega offers, and she looks nervous now. "Sorry. It won't happen again."
"Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar," the reg orders another.
"What?!" I squeak. They – what?
"You, you're coming with me," the reg adds, grabbing Omega's arm.
"We will not," AZI argues, darting forwards and grabbing the reg's arm before I can try out some of the not-so-good hand to hand combat I've been learning from Hunter, because I will absolutely beat up anyone who dares hurt 'mega. "We are official Kaminoan medical personnel –"
"Don't touch me, droid!" the reg snarls, whipping out his blaster and firing at AZI. I can only watch with mind-numbing horror as the droid hits the floor, sparking.
"AZI!" Omega screams.
The reg reaches for her again, and I don't even think. His armor, unfortunately, is hard enough that he doesn't even twitch when I kick his leg. I swing a punch at his stomach, and the reg grabs my wrist, jerking me forwards. I yelp as I crash forwards, hands connecting hard with the floor. A stinging pain shoots through them, and I push myself up.
"Viz!" Omega cries.
"I'm okay," I assure, pushing myself up. One of the regs grabs my arm, yanking me down the hall. I elbow his thigh for good measure, and he shoves me forwards. No wonder our brothers hate the regs so much. I can relate. So well. I hate 'em, too.
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