Chapter 1 – Anywhere I Go

Plot: Hunter has never been off Kamino before, no matter how confident he is that he and his squad are ready. Sure, they might age like natborns do, but they're still soldiers. They're capable. When the war ends, their fate becomes uncertain… until Omega warns them that the Kaminoans plan to decommission them to study their mutations. Desertion becomes the only option.


Author's Note: This fic is for the Clone Bang! A million thanks to my amazing artist, collophora on tumblr, for drawing so many incredible pieces for this fic! 💖💖💖

PS. This fic was also a gift request. :)

~ Amina Gila


"It's not fair!" Wrecker yells, throwing his training helmet across the room hard enough that it bounces back, rolling into the table leg. He stomps across the floor and punches the table. "We're better 'en the regs! We shoulda gone out there!"

"Engaging in destructive behavior in our barracks is unlikely to convince anyone that we are capable," Tech snaps at him.

Hunter sighs, shaking his head as he follows them in, letting the door close behind them. "Listen," he says, "we've already submitted… how many requests to be deployed? Thirty-eight?"

"Thirty-nine," Tech corrects.

"We already know that the Senate is unwilling to send us out because of our size," Hunter finishes. It's stupid is what it is. They're soldiers. They've been trained the same way the regs have been. Sure, they're the same size as a standard nine-year-old natborn would be, but that doesn't mean they're incapable. Their scores on all the simulations they've done are better than every single reg squad out there.

"Their loss," Crosshair snarks, slinking to his bunk and flopping out on it. He stretches with a yawn. "Now that the war is over, we'll be stuck here forever."

Hunter pinches the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, his brothers really act their age of nine standard years old. Like now. It's annoying. It's hard to prove that they're capable and competent when they still exhibit very childish behaviors or speech patterns. He tries to train them out of it, but well, he knows he's not immune to it, either. Ugh.

Just the other day, Wrecker and Crosshair were trying to discreetly one up each other during a meeting with Nala Se, Lama Su, and some Republic officials, including the Jedi Master on Kamino. The pinching went relatively unnoticed until Crosshair yelped way too loudly. Hunter still doesn't know what he was thinking trying to out-pinch Wrecker. He deserved the training laps Hunter forced him to go on after it was over.

It was so embarrassing.

"That is statistically unlikely," Tech informs Crosshair, sitting down at the table and pulling out his datapad. "We may still be physically young, but we are trained soldiers. The end of the war does not mean an end to the need for an army. I am certain we will still be useful."

"The Senate's stupid," Wrecker says sullenly, kicking the wall and dropping onto the padded seat-couch-thing on the side of the room. "We shoulda been out there destroying clankers."

"I want to leave Kamino, too," Hunter admits, crossing the room to lean against the table where Tech is working. "We've done all we can already."

"How're we supposed to show the regs we can do it when we can't even leave?" Wrecker whines, scooping up his tooka doll, Lula, from where she was abandoned on the seat and cuddling her close.

"We gotta just wait and see, okay?" Hunter tries. None of them are happy about the end of the war. They'd hoped they could leave, but it never worked out, and now… the future is uncertain. Their future is uncertain. "Maybe this new empire will be less sticky about…" He waves a hand. "Us."

Crosshair scowls harder. "Just 'cuz we look like kids doesn't mean we are kids. It's stupid."

Hunter clamps his mouth shut so he doesn't blurt out we are kids. That wouldn't be very helpful right now.

"We're not normal children," Tech corrects looking up. "Technically, we are children."

A wordless grumble as Crosshair turns to the wall to sulk and Wrecker huffs on the bench, holding Lula tighter. "Maybe 'mega will have heard something," he suggests hopefully.

Omega is not technically part of their squad, but she is their older sister and their official caretaker – as well as Nala Se's medical assistant, of course. Because they didn't age like the regs do and because they're an experimental unit, they were kept separate. They have their own barracks, and Nala Se assigned Omega to help care for them. She might not be a soldier like they are, but they've still tried to surreptitiously pass on to her the training that they have gotten. Hunter can't quite imagine leaving Kamino and going to war without her. She's always been there. It doesn't seem right or fair to leave her behind.

But that's a problem for whenever they do get sent out. Maybe there's a part of him which doesn't mind that they haven't been allowed to leave Kamino because leaving will mean having to leave Omega, and that's the last thing he wants. Other than each other, she's the only one they've ever had.

"Maybe," Hunter agrees just to placate Wrecker, though he doubts Omega knows any more than they do.

Crosshair scoffs. "Unlikely." His voice is muffled – he's speaking into his pillow – but it's still audible enough for Wrecker to hear. A moment later, Lula is smacking into the back of Crosshair's head, and he yelps loudly, jolting upright.

Ohhh boy. Here they go again.

"What was that for?!"

"Ya don't needa be so pessimistic! 'Mega's found out a lot of things for us! She looks out for us!" Wrecker yells back. He looks frustrated and closer to tears than Hunter is comfortable with.

Crosshair tosses Lula at Wrecker's bunk, and the doll flops onto the floor. "Then she should have found a way for us to leave!" he snarls heatedly.

Hunter steps forward before they can get too out of hand. "Okay, settle down, boys," he orders, and the authoritativeness in his voice is enough for both of them to snap their mouths shut.

Tech doesn't even bother looking away from his datapad. He's sulking in his own way, by hyper-focusing on his research. If someone bothers him, he'll probably rip off his head. Which is fine. Hunter doesn't need someone to help him wrestle Wrecker and Crosshair apart. The longer they've been stuck here on Kamino, the worse their restlessness is growing. They're meant to be out there, and the frustration of being trapped here because they're "kids" is maddening. Every single reg they've ever known, except for the young cadets now, has gone out to the fronts, but not them, even if they're older than some of those regs.

Wrecker's right. It isn't fair, but that doesn't mean they should take it out on each other – or Omega. Especially not Omega. She's not a soldier. She might have taken care of them when they were little, but she's only a medical assistant. She has no power. There's nothing she can do for them that she hasn't already.

Crosshair gives Wrecker a little sideways look before laying back on his bunk without another word. Wrecker stares at him, scowling, for a second later before his expression shifts into one of abject misery as he goes to his own bunk, picking up Lula as he sits down there. Hunter looks between them, feeling equally miserable and wishing that there was something he could do that would help.

Instead, he slumps on the bench opposite Tech and spins a knife between his fingers to distract himself until the door to their barracks opens. They all perk up immediately as Omega's familiar figure enters the room. But unlike usual, she doesn't seem happy, and Hunter can pick up the stress in her scent immediately. She's twisting her fingers together in a way that she only ever does when she's anxious.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and something in his tone makes Crosshair and Wrecker immediately sit up. "Did… something happen?"

"Yeah," she replies, coming closer. Her voice is shaking. "You're in trouble."

"B-but we didn't do anythin'!" Wrecker protests. "We haven't gotten into a fight in the mess hall for a week!"

"Unfortunately," Crosshair mutters under his breath.

"I overheard the Kaminoans," she explains. "An Imperial came here to evaluate the clones. He and Lama Su were talking about–" Her breathing hitches, and she pauses, taking a steadying breath as she bites her lower lip, blinking away a faint sheen of tears. "They want to send you somewhere to–"

"We getta fight?!" Wrecker asks, delighted.

"No," she answers, her voice breaking. "They're going to send you to a lab so they can study your mutations and perfect them."

Hunter feels the blood drain from his face as the knife slips from his fingers, clattering to the table. "What?!" No, he is not shrieking, thank you very much. His voice is just… a little more high-pitched than normal.

"We need to leave Kamino," Omega tells them urgently. "It's not safe here for us."

"Leave?" Tech echoes, looking toward her for the first time, "But we have nowhere to go, no way to go. We…" His voice trails off, and he turns toward Hunter.

All of them are looking at him now, and even if he's been trained to be their leader, even if he's knowledgeable about strategies and techniques and plans, all of that disappears the moment his siblings are looking at him. This isn't something he was trained for. This – they're soldiers. What would they do if they left? No one will take them seriously. When natborns look at them, they just see kids. They don't see the soldiers that the Batch have been trained to be. It's frustrating. Where can they go?

Tech isn't wrong. They don't have anywhere to go, but at the same time, they don't have a choice. If they don't leave, if they fail

Being trapped in a lab was Hunter's worst nightmare for years. For so long, he was terrified that their lack of rapid aging would doom them to a life as lab experiments since they couldn't be proper soldiers. Staying isn't an option.

Okay. Okay. They can do this. He can do this. He can. He's a trained soldier, not a kid. He can do this. It's not any different from what he does when they're in training simulations. He stretches his leg under the table to press his foot against Tech's, letting the contact ground and reassure him as he takes a deep breath.

"Alright, listen up," he says, straightening, pretending that his heart isn't hammering wildly at having to make such a decision on his own. What if he's wrong? What if he messes it up? What if –? "This isn't something we've trained for," he admits, "but staying here and following protocol is not an option, understood?" He looks between his little brothers, seeing the grim realization in their eyes mingled with a fear that none of them are quite able to hide. Omega's scared, too, but she's hiding it much better. It's a sobering realization. They're the soldiers, but they're still more afraid than she is. (How pathetic.)

"Yes, sir," Crosshair murmurs after a heartbeat of silence. The fear is still there in his eyes, but there's a steely determination there, too.

"We're deserting," Hunter tells them frankly. "If we're caught, we'll face dire consequences. Nothing worse than what they already have in store for us, I'm sure."

"Why?" Wrecker asks, expression scrunching in a way that betrays he's trying very hard to stay calm and not start crying. "We didn't do nothin' wrong."

"We didn't do anything wrong," Tech corrects absently, still focused on Hunter.

Hunter's shoulders slump. "We always knew it could come to this. We're… defective." He can't quite stop the way his expression twists with bitterness.

"No, you're not!" Omega blurts out. "You're not… There's nothing wrong with you! You're just different. Having a mutation doesn't mean you're defective."

Crosshair scoffs. "We got a lot more wrong with us than having a mutation. We don't age right, either."

She crosses the room to sit next to him. "I age like you do." When she tries to pat his arm, he jerks away, scowling. If she wasn't so used to his mood swings, she might have been hurt by it. Instead, she just gives him a small smile and pretends everything is normal.

Aaaand they're getting sidetracked.

"Okay, we need to collect what we can carry. Necessities only," Hunter warns. Wrecker hugs Lula against his chest with a defiant look. "… You can bring Lula, Wrecker. Since it's the night cycle now, patrols will be reduced. We'll get to a hangar and take a shuttle."

"Where do we intend to go?" Tech queries. "We have never been off world."

Yeah, and that's a little problem Hunter doesn't intend to think about just yet. He's not letting his brothers become lab experiments or worse, and it goes without saying that Omega is coming with them. She might not be a soldier, but she's still one of them. She helped raise them.

I don't know Hunter wants to say. He can't. He needs to know. As their leader, knowing is what he does. If he can lead them through training simulations, he can lead them through this.

At least they know how to fly. Piloting was something they were taught as well, of course, albeit not in an actual shuttle, but they know their way around ships of varying models. He and Tech are best, and Crosshair is semi-decent. Wrecker is not a pilot he wants to have unless he wants to go out in a massive fireball.

He doesn't, by the way.

"Move!" he barks, and they all spring into action. Hunter goes to his bunk to grab a spare set of clothing, tossing them into a bag along with his knife. They don't have blasters of their own. He only has the vibroblade because he stole it, and training blasters are useless in real life situations. Ugh. Maybe they can steal some real blasters from somewhere?

Their packing job is quick, and Hunter makes sure they're all carrying extra water and food rations. Leaving won't do them any good if they all starve to death once they're away. The anticipation in the room is agonizing, especially mingled with the sense of excitement, and it's making Hunter's senses go haywire, his body reacting to his brothers' emotions. He tries to focus, tries to filter it away, and he doesn't even realize his hands are shaking until Omega is crouching in front of him and taking his hands in her own.

"We'll figure this out," she whispers, smoothing her thumb over the back of his hand. "I'm scared, too."

Hunter scowls. "'M not scared!" The denial is instinctive, of course, but he is scared, and he sags a little. "Maybe a little," he mutters, looking away.

Omega squeezes his hands before letting go. "Okay. C'mon. Nala Se won't be looking for me for a while yet, but she'll notice I'm gone if I'm not in bed tonight."

She goes to help Tech organize his random assortment of tools and datapads into his bag while Wrecker and Crosshair whisper excitedly about how they're finally leaving. Apparently, the excitement of going off-world has temporarily become greater than their fear of what will happen next – or if they fail.

Well, they won't fail if Hunter is a good enough leader.

Despite himself, excitement builds within him, too. This is his first real test as a leader, and for as terrifying as it is, he is, admittedly, also a bit excited. He's never gotten the chance to lead them on a real field mission, and this… Well, this is basically just that.

"Stay sharp," Hunter warns when they're all ready to go. "Keep your eyes open. If we get the chance to take weapons, we need to go for it. Tech, what's the safest route to a hangar?"

Tech's on his datapad, having sliced into Kaminoan security feed already. "The one nearest our training rooms is safest," Tech answers, "but we will need to take a lift unless we can slip into the vents."

Oh. Yeah. That hangar. They've been there a few times on tours and training exercises, and Hunter chews on his lip as he narrows his eyes, trying to focus on the energy frequencies around him enough to pinpoint it. Ships have a very distinctive frequency, and if he focuses well enough, he should be able to find it. He touches the wall to help, and after a moment, he can sense it. The ships there are powered down, but he can still feel them faintly, humming against the edges of his mind.

"Let's go," he murmurs, pushing emotions to the back of his mind as he leads his squad, his family, down the Kaminoan halls.

Wrecker almost doesn't fit into the vents – though he's not taller than Omega, he is significantly bigger, which makes it difficult for him to squeeze through the opening – but they make it to the hangar without incident. So far, so good.

Hunter holds up a hand to stop the others as they crouch behind a pile of crates, scanning the hangar. "Tech, can you locate a suitable shuttle for us?"

Tech crawls forward, leaning out to look around and scanning something with his datapad. "That one," he announces, pointing at a ship tucked away in the far corner. "It is a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle, not merely a transport shuttle. We may be able to live on it while we find a suitable location to lay low."

"Lay low?" Wrecker whines a little too loudly. "But–!"

"Hush," Crosshair hisses, "or we'll be caught."

Childish they may be, but they are ready to fight. They are. Even if it doesn't always seem like it. Once the excitement of being off Kamino fades, it should be easier.

Hunter looks back at his brothers. "Alright–" he starts and then flinches when he hears footsteps coming toward them. Oh no. "Someone's coming," he hisses. "Stay low."

They try, they really do, but there's five of them, and it's a little hard to pretend to be an extension of the crates. If he had to guess, the regs heard Wrecker. Oops? "Hey, you're not supposed to be here," one of the two barks, aiming a blaster at them. "Cadets aren't authorized to enter the hangar."

"Tech, Omega, get to the ship and power up the engines," he orders as Wrecker lunges at the first reg, punching him in the helmet hard enough to knock him down. "We'll be right behind you."

Tech takes off running with Omega right behind him, and Hunter and Crosshair jump at the second reg. There's a brief tussle before they leave the two stunned on the floor, their blaster stolen as the three race for the shuttle. Hunter is the last up the ramp, a sense of giddy satisfaction filling up as they close the ramp and head toward the cockpit. He slides into the copilot's seat, heart hammering in his chest as he lets out a shaky breath, staring down at the control panel in front of him.

"Ready?" he asks Tech. The engines are already up and running, and Tech leans up to flip a few switches.

"Affirmative."

They take the shuttle out together, and Hunter can sense the nervousness and anticipation from all his siblings as he and Tech guide the ship from the hangar on Kamino. They're finally leaving Kamino. Finally. It's been a long time coming, and yeah, maybe they're all running away, but they're doing it together. He doesn't know where they'll go from here. Tech isn't wrong that they're technically kids. Who would ever take them seriously? But well, they'll figure it out, one step at a time.

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