Three updates in one day, because I'd forgotten to keep posting this story on here. . . :)

Twenty minutes after the Bad Batch's arrest, Hunter was sitting in one corner of a cell in the CG brig, listening to Tech and Crosshair argue about whether or not they should try hacking their way out or just wait and hope for the best. Neither of Hunter's younger teammates seemed to be sure which thing they were actually arguing for, which made it hard to reach a resolution. Wrecker was wandering around, frowning.

"This is taking too long!" he blurted at last.

"Just be patient," Hunter said.

Crosshair glanced at Hunter's tapping fingers and scoffed under his breath. The sergeant rolled his eyes, but made himself be still all the same.

"Aww. . ." Wrecker thumped a fist against the wall, making the floor vibrate, then leaned heavily against it. "I've been being patient!"

"Yeah," said Hunter warningly. "And you're gonna keep being patient. The CG won't be happy if you bust up their walls."

Groaning, Wrecker slid down the wall and slumped next to him.

Crosshair elbowed Tech and pointed at the control panel for the cell, one eyebrow raised questioningly. Tech muttered something that ended in the words 'can't reach it anyway', and both of the younger commandos proceeded to stare at the control panel as if it was personally insulting them by its very existence.

With a sigh, Hunter sat up a bit straighter and reminded them, "We won't be in here long. The ARCs said they were going to get Fox."

Crosshair and Tech stared at him with expressions of disbelief, even though they had no reason to mistrust the ARCs. For as gruff as the Steele and Kilo were, they'd listened to Hunter's story and promised to get Fox quickly. As far as Hunter could tell, his youngest two teammates were just in bad moods because they'd been up all night.

Sure enough, Tech was glowering at the control panel when a yawn caught him off-guard, and he blinked rapidly and glanced around. "It must be quite early," he said.

"Yeah . . . around five, I guess," said Hunter. Leaning his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes, holding back a yawn of his own. This was the first time he'd sat still since landing the Marauder, yesterday evening. He and his squad had been on the move since then, and then of course they'd still been in a very energetic bar less than half an hour ago.

After Kilo and Steele had listened to their story, they'd piloted the Batch to the CG headquarters, and then made them walk through a decontaminator room – which was really just a powerful sonic with a fancy name – so that the Bad Batch wouldn't, to quote Kilo, "drag chocolate pudding all over the corridors."

Hunter hadn't thought the disaster from the fight was that bad, but he also hadn't seen any reason to complain about being given a chance to get the remnants of a Corellian Cocktail out of his hair. Monnk really didn't believe in playing fair. . . something which Hunter actively approved of.

Just then, the door to the brig swished open, and Hunter got to his feet as the two ARCs stalked into the room. "Right," said Kilo, planting one hand on his waist and gesturing at the commandos with the other. "Fox and Warden are on their way here, so you lot will be out momentarily."

"Fox and Warden?" said Hunter, approaching the ray shield.

"Yeah," Steele answered, with obvious relish. "Warden's looking about as happy as a Neimoidian with a stomach-ache."

"Hm." Crosshair folded his arms and plastered on an unimpressed face that would have fooled most people. Not his squad mates, though. To Hunter, it looked like the sniper was just a little concerned.

"Why's he mad?" said Wrecker, confused. "I mean, apart from the fact that he was annoyed at us for nagging."

"Ah . . ." said Tech, blinking. "Is Warden, by any chance, the medic?"

"Negative," said Kilo. "But, when he said he wouldn't get Fox, it was because our CMO had forbidden anyone to disturb the commander."

"I see," said Tech, pushing his goggles up the bridge of his nose.

"Exactly," said Steele. "And just some useful life advice for you boys – you don't risk the CMO's wrath without a really good reason."

Crosshair snorted. "What, all medics are the same?"

"Yes," said Hunter.

"No," said Kilo, looking grim. "All medics are not the same. Hypo's one of the worst of the lot."

"Hypo?" Hunter tilted his head curiously, the name stirring a memory of Kamino, an injured Cody, and a grouchy medic threatening to throw the Batch out on their ears if they didn't keep quiet. "Does he have a small hypo tattooed on either cheekbone?"

"Yes," said Kilo. "You know him?"

"We remember him," said Wrecker. "Saw him on Kamino at the beginning of the war. How'd he end up here?"

"No one knows," said Steele darkly. "He just arrived, with almost no warning . . . and Coruscant was never the same after that, either. Pray you never meet him."

"We already have," Tech reminded him, tilting his head. Then, in an encouraging tone, he added, "But it is unlikely that we will meet him here. After all, we are uninjured, and we should not have to impose on the Coruscant Guard's territory for much longer."

"Yes," Steele answered, still in that unnecessarily apocalyptic tone. "That's true enough, isn't it. You are uninjured – for now."

Hunter rolled his eyes, but Kilo smirked. "Exactly," he said, folding his arms. "Let's just say that Hypo doesn't like it when his patients have to disobey medic's orders because some squad of idiots gets into –"

"All right, Kilo," said a new voice, and Commander Fox strode into the room with a sharp-eyed, thin-faced trooper at his side. "I'll take it from here. Get those squads ready to move."

"Yes, sir," Kilo agreed, and headed out with Steele beside him. The ARC troopers looked calm and professional, but Hunter was pretty sure that Kilo at least was still amused by the whole . . . situation.

The Bad Batch turned as one to observe Commander Fox, then Warden. Fox looked distantly judgmental, but the thin trooper just pulled a wry face and went to the brig's computer desk.

"Hmm." Fox took off his helmet and set it on the desk, then marched up to the cell door, hands locked behind his back as he observed the four commandos for a long, long moment. His expression lacked any definable emotion, but when he slowly raised on eyebrow Hunter figured the squad was in a fair amount of trouble.

"Uh-oh." Wrecker spoke as quietly as he could, which wasn't very. "He's kinda upset."

"Yeah. Noticed," Crosshair whispered back, and Hunter found himself hoping that the commander would listen to their explanation before yelling at them for their actions.

"Let them out," Commander Fox ordered over one shoulder, and Warden shut off the cell's shield. Then, to the Bad Batch, Fox said, "If I hear so much as one disrespectful word from any of you, I will throw you back in the brig for the next standard week. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," said Hunter for all of them. He was a little worried that one of his teammates would reply with some snarky comment or other, but as it turned out, Wrecker and Tech and even Crosshair were no more interested in causing trouble than Hunter was.

Well, that was a first.

One by one, the commandos filed out and lined up in front of Commander Fox, who stared at them for another interminable moment. Warden waited near the door, gazing tiredly at his datapad – and then his comm beeped. Straightening, he tapped his earpiece and asked something quietly.

Fox cleared his throat. "Well, lads," he said. "The situation was partially explained to me. I'll give you points for originality. Purposefully instigating a fight in 79's for the sake of getting my attention has to be one of the most unorthodox things I've seen."

"Sorry, sir," said Hunter.

"No, you're not," said Fox.

"Well – no, sir," agreed Hunter. "But I would be sorry, except – we had to reach you, Commander. Echo's missing, and so's Quinlan."

"So I heard," replied the commander.

"Quinlan has spoken about you," said Tech, as if Fox needed more of an explanation. "We assumed you would have some knowledge of his potential whereabouts."

"Yeah," said Fox. "I have two squads preparing for a raid as we speak, because I have a pretty good idea where Vos will be."

"You think Echo's with him, sir?" checked Hunter.

Fox snorted. "Why else would he be missing? It's got to be Vos' fault, somehow or other. We'll take a transport down and –"

His commlink beeped, and he flipped up a small part of his vambrace to look at the tiny screen. "Warden," he said, turning to the other trooper. "I'm getting a direct location ping from an unidentified source."

"I was just looking into that, sir," replied Warden, entering another code. "Whoever's sending it contacted CG headquarters first. I'm back tracing the – hold on a second. Sir, it's Echo!"

"What?" said Hunter.

"He just overwrote our filtering protocols and is flooding all channels with a message."

"Let me see," said Tech, followed by Wrecker's, "What'd he say?"

"He isn't saying anything," the trooper replied, plugging his datapad into the nearest computer. "He's transmitting some kind of code that I –"

Tech shoved Warden aside so he could peer at the computer, and the others crowded behind him. Hunter saw nothing but streams of data, interspersed here and there with segments of binary code, but Tech – apparently – could read it without trouble.

"Well," he said, and blinked twice.

"What is he saying?" demanded Fox.

"This is fascinating," Tech replied. "Echo appears to have gained access to the Twisted Star's mainframe. . . one moment."

He sat down and began typing. The illegible code flickered once and turned into words. The data was still traveling so quickly that Hunter had a hard time seeing anything beyond flashes of names and places, but Tech and Echo had long since worked out some kind of pattern, and Tech hastily summarized for them.

"Echo and Quinlan have been caught by a gang called the Twisted Star."

"I knew it," said Fox. "Blast it, Vos, I told you to be careful!"

Hunter smirked despite himself. "We should move in," he said.

"We will," Fox answered shortly. "Once I know we're not going up against the entire gang."

"We can handle them!" protested Wrecker.

"No, you can't." The commander stared at him. "There are hundreds, scattered throughout various bases. I have a speeder ready to go. It will take five minutes to get there once I know it's safe to move in."

"Safe?" muttered Crosshair, and Hunter elbowed him sharply. He did not want Fox to put the squad back in the brig, they needed to get to Echo.

"Exactly," said Fox, not noticing or uncaring of Crosshair's attitude. "We're not the only ones at risk here. What's Echo sending the CG now?"

"A good deal of information," said Tech. He snatched his own datapad from the desk and began typing, eyes still on the computer screen. "He is methodically destroying the gang's records, and taking down all their automated security systems, including doors and locks. He has access to the system because the gang is trying to search Echo's memory for the identity of whoever made the prosthetics."

"The Techno Union," said Wrecker worriedly. "We can't let 'em know Echo's with us, though, he'll always be in danger if that happens!"

"Yeah. . ." said Hunter.

"Don't worry," said Fox, calmly sheathing a knife at his side. "The Techno Union won't know. We're about to put the Twisted Star out of business . . . if there's anything left of their organization by the time Echo's through with 'em."

"It appears that he is sending us the identification of every single member of the gang and contacts," said Tech.

Fox laughed darkly. "The CSF will love this," he said. "Has he identified how many men are present in the base now?"

"There are a dozen known hostiles near Echo's location, and he guesses there could be another dozen in the base," replied Tech. "Ah – Echo says there is an Iktotchi on his way to the gang's headquarters at this moment. I have the ship's name and current location, as well as the ship manifest. Eight hostiles, and a number of other prisoners."

"What does this Iktotchi want?" asked Fox.

"He wants to buy Quinlan for his fighting ring."

"I'm tempted to let him succeed," said Fox, but contacted the ARCs instantly and sent them the information on the buyer. "Take both squads, Steele," he ordered. "There are prisoners on board."

"We'll deal with them, Commander," said Steele. "And sir, Commander Monnk is waiting for you."

"Monnk?" asked Fox. "Hm. What does he want?"

"Dunno, sir," said Steele distractedly, and hung up.

At the same moment, the door opened, and Monnk sauntered in. "Hi," he said, with a little wave.

When everyone, including Tech, just stared at him, the newly-arrived commander explained, "I figured I'd invite myself on the raid."

Crosshair smirked, and Fox looked confused. "Without armor?" he asked, eyeing Monnk's dress greys.

Monnk considered his uniform, still rumpled and smudged from the fight. "Sure," he said. "It would take too long to go back to barracks."

Fox ran a hand through his hair in obvious bewilderment. "Monnk . . ."

"It's fine." Monnk jerked his chin at the squad. "The way these guys are looking, I'll be lucky if I even get close to a gangster."

Warden rolled his eyes even harder than Fox did, which was saying something, and then Fox mumbled something under his breath. "Fine, whatever," he said aloud. "Anything else, Tech?"

"Not yet," said Tech. "I imagine most of this information will be useful after the battle, but – oh. The data stream is being interrupted, it . . . Echo is pulling back. He is transmitting through the security camera now. . . and locking the camera's feed on."

Everyone crowded around Tech, almost shoving him into the desk as they peered at the screen. The security footage was clear. Echo was lying on his side on the ground, a long cord plugged into his headset. Quinlan was in a locked cell just across from him, pacing around the small room like a Zalorian rock-lion. "You want a valuable hostage, Palabar?" he snarled, then paused to duck a couple of lasers and hurl a Rodian into the opposite wall. "How about a Jedi Knight? Is that valuable enough for you?"

An Ithorian with a bandage around one eye and a suite of dark blue armor struggled to his feet, bleeding from the head. "A Jedi Knight," he said, sounding both delighted and enraged. "Yes. . . A valuable prize. Even more valuable than the cyborg!"

Echo was lying on the ground, staring at Quinlan with his mouth half open in obvious shock. Hunter supposed that Quinlan had gone his super-secrecy route and failed to inform Echo that he was a Jedi. Idiot.

"Let's go," said Fox, when Quinlan began to taunt the gang leader. "Warden, start compiling that data."

"On it, sir."

Tech kept his datapad connected to the camera feed, and as the Batch ran after Fox and Monnk to the speeder, they could hear Palabar and his men discussing Count Dooku as a potential buyer.

The Batch vaulted into the speeder and crowded in the back seat, peering at the datapad as Fox took off. Hunter barely noticed that Fox was an even scarier pilot than Quinlan, because he and his squad mates were too busy watching the fight between the assassin droids and the Kiffar.

"Fox," Hunter said, after Palabar took out Quinlan with a blow to the face. "Looks like Echo and Vos are being taken to high security, and there are at least four assassin droids to deal with."

"Good to know," Fox called back. "Monnk, you're being an idiot, so you're on guard duty when we get there. Watch our backs. The rest of us will deal with the rescue."

"Yes, sir!" retorted Monnk, saluting with a grin.

Fox brought the speeder into a steep dive, unbothered by the altitude or the speed, and Hunter found himself clutching at the wall. He wasn't able to catch his balance, mostly because Wrecker suddenly realized how high up they were and clutched at Hunter's and Crosshair's arms, dragging them both down with him. Tech avoided the sudden pile by squashing himself into one corner of the benchlike seat and bracing his feet against the armrest of Monnk's seat.

"Almost there!" warned Fox.

"I thought you said it was five minutes away!" Wrecker yelped. "It's been less than a minute!"

There was a guilty silence, and Tech, who somehow kept his balance with ease despite all the abrupt, yanking turns, said, "It is five minutes away – as long as one follows the speed limit."

"You would know," growled Hunter, who would have yelled about Fox's piloting if Fox didn't outrank him. . . and if they hadn't been going to rescue Echo.

"Yeah," said Monnk, turning to give them an easy grin. "Fox breaks the law a lot."

"Shut up," said Fox. "Destination in fifteen seconds. That had better not be Steele and his boys on the landing platform."

"It is," said Crosshair, peering over Hunter, who was squashed halfway behind Wrecker. "There are five enemy men down. Kilo's wrestling with an Iktotchi."

Fox's only response was to give a growling sigh before setting down the speeder so rapidly that Hunter almost went through Monnk's seat. The engine shut off, and everyone except Fox sat in dazed silence for nearly a whole second.

"Well?" snapped Fox, vaulting out before the others had even managed to sit upright. "Let's move! What do you ladies think this is, a stroll in the park?"

Crosshair jumped out. "Why the sudden rush?" he muttered, already slinging his rifle into position.

"Yeah," grumbled Wrecker, joining the commander. "You're the one we couldn't get a hold of all this time. . ."

Fox ignored him. Despite his sharp tone, he seemed quite calm and collected. In fact, Hunter could have sworn the commander was smiling a little, as though looking forward to the fight. And Monnk – Monnk was outright strolling towards the entrance to the Twisted Star's headquarters.