After returning to Anaxes, you found yourself spending quite a lot of time observing Echo's recovery from afar. He had saved you, after all. No reg had done that before - usually it was you doing the saving. The cybernetically enhanced clone fascinated you, and as with all things that you found interesting, you took to observing him.
He was a lot like you, now that you thought about it. Traumatized, underestimated, and someone that the Kaminoans were ashamed to call their creation. You knew that if he went back to Kamino as a reg, they would kill him. If he went back with your squadron, however, he would have a fighting chance. You wanted to give him that chance. All you needed was a little help.
Crosshair, your antisocial buddy, usually joined you as you scooped out your (hopefully) future teammate, curious about the cyborg. His distrustful nature really showed at times like this, when he wouldn't allow any member of your squadron to be alone with who he deemed a potential threat. Without knowing what Echo was capable of, he couldn't bring himself to allow you out of his sight. Though he had to admit, he too was interested in the potential of the no-longer-reg.
Soon enough, Tech too began tagging along. After you had mentioned how handy Echo was with technology, he began interacting with the cyborg, hoping that he had met his match in the intelligence field. He could only win against Wrecker and Hunter so many times in various strategy games before he grew bored. Even you and Crosshair hardly posed a challenge to him anymore, despite initially proving to be worthy opponents.
Since the majority of the Batch was visiting, Wrecker and Hunter decided to see what the fuss was about.
Echo was surprised to look up one day and find the entire Bad Batch staring at him from the door, and awkwardly cleared his throat as the droids who had been assisting in his recovery drifted and wheeled away.
"Um... hello."
You waved cheerfully. He hesitantly returned the gesture, a little confused by the sudden appearance of your squadron.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," Hunter announced, stepping closer to the other clone. "I'm Hunter, the leader of this squadron."
"Crosshair," the sniper in question drawled, rolling his toothpick to the other side of his mouth.
"Our sharpshooter," Hunter clarified.
Tech pushed to the front of the group and enthusiastically extended a hand for Echo to shake. He hesitantly did so.
"Tech. I am the brains of this operation."
A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of Echo's lips. "I noticed."
Wrecker lumbered forwards and slapped Echo on the back enthusiastically, nearly hurling him into the wall with the sheer force of the action. "Wrecker. Demolition expert. Nice to meet'cha, reg."
"It's Echo, actually." He paused, then unsurely added: "or CT-1409. Whichever you prefer. Either works."
You rolled your eyes. What was with regs and their designations? "Hello, CT-1409," you signed, Tech translating your signals for Echo. "My designation is ARECT-23-0001-9905, Clone Force 99's unofficial battle medic and Tech's lovely copilot."
"...What?" Echo questioned, blinking in confusion.
"This is Y/n," Hunter explained, smirking.
"That's why we don't do designations," you signed. Again, Tech reiterated your words.
Once again, you came to the conclusion that Echo would be a good fit for your misfit squadron. The others just had to see it.
Thankfully, that chance came only a week later, when the Jedi declared that it was time to retake Anaxes.
Echo's plan to defeat Admiral Trench was quite simple in theory. Get in, feed false information to the Admiral, take out the Seperatist ships, and get out. In reality, it involved far more risks, one that even your squadron questioned. That's when you knew things were bad.
Luckily, with a little skill, a lot of teamwork, and a debt of luck you could never pay off, the attack was a success. Anaxes was once again under Republic control, thanks to Echo. He was named the hero of Anaxes, and offered not only a medal to commemorate his success, but a spot on your team. He refused the award, but accepted Hunter's invitation to tag along on your borderline-suicidal escapades. Your squad was up to six, and now had an official slicer and another technological genius.
The Bad Batch briefly visited Kamino to gather supplies and make all necessary last-minute adjustments to officially welcome Echo to the team. The trip lasted about four weeks, and not a second was wasted. There was never a dull moment with the Kaminoans breathing down your neck.
Only a few hours after touching down on the flooded world, Echo made an out of the blue request. You knew it was coming, but hadn't expected it to be so soon.
"I want to learn sign language," the cyborg announced as his measurements were taken for his new armor. Five sets of eyes landed on him, one covered by a helmet visor.
"Good," Tech said with a small smile, ready for a new student. "I'll teach you."
"Hey, I wanna teach him!" Wrecker protested.
"You got to teach Crosshair," Hunter reminded his brother. "It's my turn."
Crosshair rolled his eyes and toothpick simultaneously. "Actually, it's mine."
You knocked on the table next to you to gain their attention. "Guys, guys," you signed, annoyed. "Can't we all teach him? It's a pretty complex language."
The four troopers who understood you groaned, mumbling in reluctant agreement. Echo just looked confused.
Sign language was difficult to learn when you had five teachers with vastly different teaching styles. It was even harder with only one hand. Several signs had to be adapted so that Echo could learn, which was far more difficult than anticipated. You had chosen to remove a few signs that you deemed less important from Echo's vocabulary in order to successfully adapt others. He had been trying his best to learn, but was struggling immensely. It had become rather difficult to watch.
Echo couldn't yet understand you, so whenever you were alone with him, you tried to type what you were saying onto your datapad. When another Bad Batcher was around, they told him what you were signing, and Echo studied your hands to try and figure out what each subtle movement meant. It didn't help.
Since he had started learning a few weeks earlier, the cyborg had accidentally insulted everyone in the room more than once, referred to you as random words instead of by name four times, and had strung sentences that made no sense together more than he would ever admit.
"Don't beat yourself up about it, Echo," Tech assured his discouraged brother, patting him on the back. "You're doing far better than Crosshair and Hunter were when learning."
"Hey, I wasn't nearly as bad as him," Crosshair snapped, jerking his head towards Hunter.
"All you could sign for two months were curse words," you reminded your brother in arms. "And the sad part is that I didn't even know half of them."
"Wrecker learned twice as quickly as you did," Tech stated, adjusting his goggles. "And don't even get me started on how little time it took me to learn."
"Don't worry, we won't," you signed, poking your tongue out at him. "Learned that lesson a while ago."
"It was an incredibly quick process."
"And an even quicker lesson."
"So?" Crosshair scoffed, embarrassed at how long it had taken him to learn a new language. "Hunter could only say 'where's the refresher?' and 'bandana' for four months."
Echo perked up at this, struggling to suppress a laugh as he glanced at the normally serious and stoic Sergeant. "Seriously?"
Hunter flushed with embarrassment, glaring at Crosshair. "Hey! I told you not to bring that up!"
"Oops," Crosshair drawled with a smirk, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Echo just laughed, his mood lifted.
After your group finally left the flooded world, resupplied, rested, and ready for your next mission, you continued to teach Echo. He was learning, but very slowly, and often got frustrated. Wrecker, Crosshair, and Hunter had quit as his teachers, seeing as their teaching styles didn't line up with Echo's preferred learning style, leaving just you and Tech. Not that you minded. You knew this was going to happen.
Several days later, you woke up in the middle of the night and, unable to fall back asleep, traveled to the cockpit of the Marauder. There, you were surprised to find Echo sitting alone in the copilot seat, wide awake and staring at his datapad. It wasn't his turn on watch, you knew that much, so what was he up to?
You slipped into the piloting seat and turned to face him, curious. That was when you noticed exactly what he was studying. Echo was making slow hand signs at the screen, which displayed a video of conversations in sign language with aurebesh translation.
You pulled out your own datapad and typed a message on it, then poked Echo's shoulder and showed it to him. "Why are you still awake?"
"I'm not tired," he said slowly, allowing you the chance to read his lips. You could tell he was lying, he looked exhausted. Echo was missing out on much-needed sleep just for the chance to better coordinate with you.
"You should be asleep."
"I'm fine," he argued. He felt that, in this particular instance, communication was far more important than adequate sleep. "I want to learn. I want to talk to you."
"You can. I'm not bad at lip reading, and I can always write things down until you learn more. Plus, Tech made me this cool translator that I installed in my visor." You sent him a small smile before resuming typing. "I can understand you. You can't push yourself, though. Everyone learns at a different pace. It'll come with time."
"I don't have time. This is important. I need to learn quickly."
"Then I'll help you. Get some sleep, and I'll teach you more in the morning. For now-" You yanked Echo's datapad out of his hands and hid it behind your back. He sent an annoyed look your way, and, like any mature adult would, you stuck your tongue out at him. "Go to bed," you signed, pointing at him then to his bunk afterwards. He understood, and begrudgingly left to get some sleep.
True to your word, you kept your promise to Echo. The next morning, after allowing him to sleep in, you leapt right into his lessons. You recruited Tech for help, but threatened to steal his datapad if he tried to rush Echo's progress. He agreed, terrified. With the help of you and Tech, combined with Echo's sheer determination to learn, his lessons became increasingly more successful. Soon enough, he could converse with you quite well, with only a few errors. His hesitance slowly vanished, replaced by confidence. Within a few months, he was practically fluent in the language you had used your entire life, and adjusting well to the new team.
Just in time for the end of the war.
When your squadron was sent to Kaller and rescued General Depa Billaba's battalion, you didn't think much of the assignment. It was just another mission, in your mind. Tech had mentioned his theory that the war would be ending very soon, assuming General Obi-Wan Kenobi defeated General Grievous on Utapau, but you didn't truly believe him. After all, the two had faced off several times before according to clone intelligence reports, and nothing had come of their duels.
Not yet, anyways.
For the first time in quite a while, it seemed that things were looking up. While on Kaller, your group was instructed to scout ahead. An easy task, and one that you wouldn't be completing alone. General Billaba's Padawan, Caleb Dume, would be accompanying you. You liked him. He was fun.
It was when you left Billaba's side that things went wrong.
You had only been gone a few moments when everyone around you slowed to a halt. You did the same, confused, and looked back to see Caleb dashing away, back towards his Master... who was being shot at by her own troops.
It was over as soon as it began. Depa was dead, Caleb was gone, and the troopers had transformed into seemingly mindless killing machines. The six of you stood amid the chaos, confused and terrified.
"Wh-what just happened?" Echo asked no one in particular, his words translating to aurebesh before your eyes.
"The comm channel is repeating one directive," Tech explained cryptically. "Execute Order 66."
As the words flashed in front of you, you felt a twinge in your head, and you winced, clutching your head and squeezing your eyes shut. A strange sensation flooded your mind, one that you had never felt before. It was like your silent world was momentarily flooded with what you could only imagine was sound, and it hurt.
"Y/n?" Crosshair called, nudging your shoulder. You forced yourself to open your eyes and look his way, meeting what you imagined was a concerned gaze under his helmet. "Are you okay?"
He seemed different, too. It was like you could feel his tone, something that had never happened before. The strange sensation sent a shiver down your spine. What was going on?
"I... I don't know," you admitted, looking around. "What the hell is happening?"
As it turned out, nobody knew. Not one soul. Even Tech couldn't explain exactly what had happened to the regs. You tried to describe to him what you felt on Kaller after returning home, but couldn't quite find the words, and instead decided to keep quiet about it. Perhaps you were just tired. Imagining things. At least, you hoped that's all it was.
Upon returning to Kamino, you were met with all kinds of strange sights: dead Jedi, strange new protocols, the regs acting stranger than usual, a curious young medic named Omega, and a man who Echo introduced as Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin. The Admiral saw it fit for your squadron to run through a decently challenging battle simulation, then declared that you were to be sent off world to deal with a group of insurgents on Onderon - your very first failed mission. Bye bye, one hundred percent success rate. And thank god for rounding.
Upon arriving and realizing that the rebels weren't who you thought they were, the Bad Batch backed off, allowing them to go about their business. Crosshair heavily objected to this move, and you almost did the same. You momentarily lost control of your own actions, and stepped forward to defend Crosshair from Hunter. Before you could get a single word out, however, you snapped out of it, and fell back into line. You weren't sure who to side with, but you were far more concerned with whatever was going on in your own head than what your brothers were bickering about.
Tech went over a suspicion that he had regarding Omega, Nala Se's young medical assistant. He had shared it with you earlier, before he had the chance to analyze the child's DNA, and you were very curious. Omega was certainly different, and you had heard far crazier things. You couldn't say you were surprised when Tech confirmed his theory: Omega was his sister. Their sister. And, in a way, your sister, just as the boys were your brothers.
A decision was reached to rescue Omega from Kamino, which you didn't object to. She didn't deserve whatever fate awaited her on the flooded world. You all knew what the Kaminoans were capable of, and feared what they would do to the female clone. Crosshair was the only one who was displeased by Hunter's decision, but didn't object much. Not outwardly, at least.
When your welcome home party turned out to be a group of guards prepared to drag you to the prison levels, you were disappointed, but unsurprised. Tarkin had them all wrapped around his finger. They would never go against his orders.
Your armor and weapons were taken, and the six of you were forced into a small cell, where you found a seventh small clone. Omega. Of course. The little troublemaker was already too much like her brothers for her own good.
"Geez, kid," you signed with a fond smile. "I at least made it through puberty before my first arrest. You're a rebel in the making."
Omega didn't understand you, of course, so Echo happily jumped in to help.
Soon, Crosshair was taken away, much to your horror, and you were left alone with the others. As the sniper was dragged away, he met your eye, and a brief understanding passed between you. He knew he wasn't going to make it out the same, and you knew it, too. You didn't think you would be so lucky, either.
You weren't.
Though you escaped thanks to Tech's brilliance, Wrecker's strength, Omega's size, and Hunter and Echo's unsuspicious wall making skills, not all of you made it off Kamino safely. Crosshair appeared in the hanger shortly after you arrived, but he wasn't quite himself. He was leading a group of regs, and after a brief argument with Hunter, he took a shot at him. His own brother. The very man he swore to protect with his life.
After just barely fleeing Kamino, you sat alone with your head in your hands, wondering how things had gone so wrong. Crosshair was gone, the Jedi were dead, the Republic and Separatists had fallen, the Empire had risen in their places, and the list of allies you had left was horrifyingly short.
At times like this, when the world became too much and you were feeling down in the dumps, Crosshair would often sit with you. No words were ever spoken or signed - they didn't need to be - you just sat there, each chewing on a toothpick. Just knowing that he was there and that he cared was comfort enough, and could lift your spirits.
Now, however, that couldn't happen. Nobody could console you quite like the aloof marksman, who was the very cause of your stress. You sat there for hours, your only companion being the headache that seemed to grow and grow as you moved further away from your flooded home.
How had everything gone so wrong, so fast?