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xxxvii.
imperials
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disclaimer: i have yet to see bad batch season 3. like any of it. you'll see why i had to put this disclaimer later in the chapter
tw: alcoholism, mentions of suicide and self harm
•••
Omega looked out the window of the gunner's mount, watching the mosaic of glistening stars of space, multiplying through the glare of the window. She rested her head on her knees that we brought close to her chest, enjoying the short calm, peaceful moment of her life.
Except it wasn't calm or peaceful whatsoever.
This long winded mission was ruining the lives of every member of the team. Slowly, torturing them, tearing them apart, from within themselves and from each other.
She sat cross-legged, Lula next to her, her head pressed against the window. She picked up Lula, and doing so, noticed the bandages around her wrist once more, knowing they continued all the way to her elbow underneath her sleeve. She tried to ignore them, but she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried to repress the memory of what happened that day, or night, she couldn't remember because they were in hyperspace, she couldn't succeed. That memory was a part of her now, it lived inside her, taking up space inside the forefront of her mind.
Everything about this mission seemed like it was for nothing. They lost a team member, a brother, and for what? Some plans for an imperial building? Wrecker's life was worth more than imperial plans. She didn't even know how he died.
These thoughts came racing to her mind, memories from the last two months, everything that could've been prevented if they hadn't gotten involved with the pykes. Chronologically, she recounted different memories, when she realized she had never apologized to Hunter from shutting him out of her life the day she got the bandages.
She took her head off the window, and set Lula down on the floor of the gunner's mount. She opened the curtain to the gunner's mount, and climbed down the ladder, walking towards the cockpit where Hunter was.
"Hunter?" Omega said.
Hunter swiveled around in his chair, coming face to face with Omega.
"Yeah?" he said, rubbing his eyes as though he'd just woken up.
Omega sat in the chair next to him, and he turned to face her. "Hunter, I- I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry. I'm the reason you guys are in this mess."
"Omega-"
"And for that day that you know, I did this to myself," she said, pointing to the bandages on her arm, "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I don't want to die."
"Omega, it's not your fault," he reassured her.
She threw her arms around neck, hugging him. He could feel the roughness of her bandages on her arms against the skin of his neck when she hugged him, a small reminder of how it was his fault, and even this couldn't make the feeling of guilt any better.
"It wasn't your fault," Omega tried to reassure him, pulling away from the hug.
"I know," Hunter lied. He knew there was something deeper than what she was saying just to reassure him. Just then, the ship came to a halt, the emergency alarms started blaring in their ears.
"When was the last time we got fuel?!" they heard Tech yell from the front of the ship.
Hunter didn't respond, thinking of the last time they did get fuel. It wasn't for a long time.
"I think it was when Echo and I were on Orondia... shit," Hunter muttered, only loud enough for him and Omega to hear.
"Huh?!" Tech shouted. "I can't hear you!"
"On Orondia," Hunter said louder, still somewhat quietly because he knew whatever Tech was implying wasn't going to end well.
"Are you fucking serious?!" Tech yelled again.
Hunter turned to Omega, seeing that she was looking at him, a hint of scaredness in her eyes.
"Hunter?"
"Stay here," Hunter told Omega, walking from the gunner's mount to the front of the ship.
"Tech, what the hell is going on?!" Hunter asked once he got there.
"We're out of fuel, the systems are down, and the hyperdrive isn't working," Tech yelled, so that everyone else could hear as well. He swiveled in the pilot's chair, and looked at Hunter, a look of worry in his eyes. "This isn't going to be a pretty landing."
"But you can land it, can't you?" Hunter asked. Tech didn't answer. "Tech?"
"Get in the back of the ship, and strap yourselves in. Tell the others to grab any belongings that are important to them and to do the same. It's the only way you'll survive," Tech said, flipping switches on the dashboard, to try and crash-land the ship, rather than just crash it.
"Then what about you?!"
"I'm going to try to crash land this ship as best as I can."
"You'll die trying!"
"If I do the same as you guys, the ship will completely crash land and everyone will die!"
"But we can't have you die," Hunter said, choking up. "We can't."
"Get to the back of the ship," Tech ordered.
"Not without you."
Tech turned back to the dashboard, grabbing his blaster off the top of it, and turned back to Hunter, pointing the gun at him.
"Hunter, I'm going to repeat myself one more time. Get in the back of the ship."
It pained him to do so, but Hunter reluctantly nodded, and went to the back of the ship. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting a tear roll down his cheek. He knew what this meant, for the team, for Tech. He had decided his fate, and there was nothing Hunter could do about it.
It was almost as if he was prepared to die.
Ready to sacrifice himself for the sake of the team.
"What's wrong, Hunter?" Omega asked.
"It's going to be a crash landing," Hunter said. "Grab any belongings that are important to you, and strap in."
"What about Tech?" Echo asked.
"This is what Tech told me to do," Hunter said.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"He's going to crash-land the ship as best he can," Hunter said, holding back his tears. The team was starting to fall apart again, like the loose end of a thread, but he couldn't help it.
Omega gathered her few possessions, which included Lula and a few other things, and strapped in the back of the ship. Hunter grabbed the necessary weapons and a few other of his things, Rex grabbed the medical equipment, and Echo took a crate of something. Gregor took care of their remaining food supply. They all were bracing for what was about to happen.
And they were just going to sit back and watch it happen.
"Tech, get back here so you can live!" Echo yelled.
"If you don't shut up you guys will die too!"
The warning alarms blared, and emergency lights bathed the interior in an ominous red glow as the ship spiraled out of control. Trying whatever it took to regain stability, Tech frantically worked the controls in a desperate bid to save the ship, and everyone on the ship, including himself, but his efforts resulted in no avail. It was too late. The marauder plunged through the atmosphere of Nal Hutta, leaving a trail of smoke and flame in its wake.
The sound of twisting metal and failing engines filled the air as the ship almost hurtled towards the surface, crashing landing with a lot of force onto the outskirts of the planet. The ground shook violently upon impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the landscape as debris scattered in every direction.
The squad all managed to find their way out of the ship before it would explode. Using different exits based on where the ships breakage points were after the crash, they all made it out alive, except one member.
As Echo stepped out of the ship and caught his breath after breathing in a lot of smoke that was a direct result of the crash, he looked around at his team members and noticed Tech wasn't there. He shook his head, and went back inside the ship, in search for his brother, hoping he was still alive.
"Tech!" Echo yelled. "Tech, can you hear me?"
"Echo?" Echo heard Tech say. It was faint, but he heard it. He swore he heard it.
"Tech!"
"Echo, get out of there! The ship is going to blow!" Echo heard Hunter's voice call out.
"Shush! I heard something," Echo tried to reason.
Echo felt someone grab him from behind and pull him out of the ship, causing him to fall backward on impact. Almost immediately after Echo hit the ground,
"I can't have him die the same way I almost did! I have to save him!" Echo said, almost running back in, before Hunter stopped him.
"He wasn't in there Echo," Hunter said, blinking back tears.
"Yes he was! I heard him!"
"I was right behind you the entire time. There was no sound. You were hallucinating."
"You let him die!" Echo yelled. "If Tech had gone to the back of the ship, we would've all been alright!"
"We wouldn't have!" Hunter yelled back. "We would've all been dead!"
"You son of a bitch!" Echo yelled. "Remember when I was arguing with you on Bracca about you only caring about yourself? Yeah, well this only confirms it!"
"How does this confirm it?!"
Echo didn't respond to his question, and instead took a step backward toward the rest of the group.
"Just leave me alone," Hunter said, starting to walk in a completely different direction. "I need a drink," he muttered to himself, when he was far enough away from the group so they wouldn't hear.
The rest of the group stood near the wreckage of the ship, engulfed in flames of memory. They were in a state of shock, mourning the loss of yet another brother.
"We can't waste much more time," Rex said, trying to put on a strong front, but they could all see through his facade.
"Rex is right," Echo replied. "We need to go to the spaceport before it gets dark out and the imperial patrol starts to come out."
Leaving the outskirts of Nal Hutta, the squad found themselves navigating a terrain dominated by swamps, marshes, and industrial complexes. They were luckily able to avoid all this, but it didn't help that the air was thick with the smell of decay and pollution. As they journeyed deeper into the center of Nal Hutta, the landscape would gradually become more urban, a labyrinth network of grimy streets and towering structures.
They entered the threshold to Bilbousa Bazaar, the primary marketplace in the city of Bilbousa on Nal Hutta. Thankfully Nal Hutta didn't require chain codes, so they were able to get away without having to risk being spotted by the empire. When they entered, they saw alien merchants selling their products and merchandise with enthusiasm, their voices blending together in a cacophony of languages and dialects as they vied for the attention of potential customers. At the center of the bazaar stood a towering fountain, its waters murky and polluted, a reflection of the corrupt nature of Nal Hutta itself. Surrounding it were makeshift stalls and tents where traders advertised their goods displayed on rickety tables and shelves.
"We need not only new disguises, but a new ship too," Rex mentioned, thinking rationally and realistically even after the death of their brother.
"Let's get the disguises first, then the ship second," Echo said. "That way we don't draw too much attention to ourselves."
Near the entrance of the spaceport, they saw a small clothing shop. It was a modest storefront nestled between more noticeable establishments, with a simple sign bearing the name of the shop in multiple alien languages. They took advantage of their window of opportunity and walked in to see if they had what they needed. After all, it couldn't hurt.
They were greeted with a brightly lit interior adorned with racks of clothing in various styles and fabrics. The ambiance was quiet, with whispered conversations exchanged between customers and the workers. Rows of garments lined the walls, creating an almost dizzying effect of bland, boring colors.
"How can I help you guys today?" the shopkeeper came up to them and asked.
"We need imperial disguises," Rex said, addressing the seller.
"What, you guys on the run or something?" the alien merchant asked.
"No, but in case we do end up on the run, it'll be useful to have them, no?"
"I don't know, you guys sound sketchy."
"If you're unwilling to sell them, then why advertise them?"
"How many do you need?" the seller asked them.
"Four imperial officer disguises," Rex specified.
"That'll be 600 credits total, 150 each."
"No," Rex refused. "I'm not paying 150 per uniform. I'll pay 90."
"140."
"100."
"135."
"100 credits."
"130?" the seller asked.
"100 credits is my final answer. Look, we also have to buy a whole ship."
"As opposed to what? Half a ship? A quarter?"
"Shut up. The point is, we need these disguises, and you're the only person we can buy them from. 100 credits. Take it or leave it."
"You drive a hard bargain," the seller noted.
"I know," Rex said.
The seller went into the back, and came back out surprisingly quickly, with the necessary disguises that the clones needed for the next part of the mission.
"So who are you on the run from? I mean, if you need to buy a whole new ship, it must be pretty bad."
"One, we crashed our ship because of several malfunctions. And two, even if we were on the run from someone, why would we tell you? So you can give us up and scam them out of money?"
"You're smart."
"I know."
They left the store, walking through the spaceport in the darkness of the night, seeing more and more sellers and purchasable products as they got deeper and deeper into the spaceport. They kept going, and after a certain point, they saw less and less merchants, opposite to when they were in the heart of the bazaar.
When they got to the place that sold ships, the bazaar was practically abandoned. The store was a ramshackle building, yet imposing structure nestled amidst a chaotic variety of other businesses. Neon signs flickering in the smog-filled air took over their vision while the distant sounds of alien languages intermingling with the hum of engines filled their ears.
The exterior of the store had holographic displays showcasing different spacecraft models, enticing potential buyers with cheap prices and unique designs. When the group of clones stepped inside, they found themselves surrounded by a dizzying array of spacecraft parts, models and parts. The interior was dimly lit, with the smell of grease and engine fuel filling their lungs. There might be rows of display models showcasing everything from nimble starfighters to massive freighters, each with its own specifications and modifications.
In one corner, a group of mechanics was huddled around a partially dismantled ship, discussing repairs with gruff voices and gestures. Meanwhile, a salesperson with a different demeanor was engaged in negotiations with a client.
"What type of ship do we even need?" Gregor asked.
"Something similar to our last one," Echo said, quietly. "Since the empire has no mind of their own, they're still using ships from the republic. It'll be easier for us to get into Daro and Coruscant using it."
"Anything you're looking for in particular?" an employee asked them.
"Yeah, we're looking for an omicron-class attack shuttle. Do you have it, or something similar by any chance?" Echo asked
"Sure, we have a couple omicron-class attack shuttles out back. Would you like to see them?"
"I mean, why not?"
The shopkeeper led them outside, to the back of the store. There was a large sum of land dedicated to housing starships of many types of designs, even some dating back to the old republic.
"This is our better of our two omicron-class attack shuttles," the seller said, leading them to the requested starship type.
"We'll take it," Rex said. "Echo here will settle the payment. I have to go do something."
"Great. You guys will be able to fly the ship out from here. Does that sound good?"
The group nodded in agreement.
"Sounds good," Rex said. "We have one more stop to make, then we'll come back and take the ship off your hands."
"No problem. Take your time," the seller said. Rex nodded in acknowledgement, and left the store, the rest of the group following.
"Where did Hunter go, anyway?" Gregor asked once they were outside the store, in his usual joking manner, but something felt more serious this time.
"If I had to guess, he's probably at the bar," Rex replied. "I'll go get him. You guys stay here. Put the disguises on the ship."
•••
"Another one," Hunter told the bartender, slurring his words.
"You really need to drown your sorrows out today don't you?" the bartender said.
"Don't ask questions," Hunter said, not making eye contact with the bartender, and looking down at his drink. He picked it up, and swirled the cup, making the alcohol inside it spin. He didn't know what to do. It was his fault that Wrecker and Tech were dead. And it was his fault that he relapsed, and that Omega tried to kill herself.
"Okay Hunter, let's go, I think you've had enough to drink," Hunter heard someone behind him say.
"We don't even have a ship," Hunter argued. "I can have one more drink. In fact, I can have as many drinks as I want. Who are you, telling me what to do?"
"We bought a ship," Rex said. "And we need to get out of here. This is imperial territory, remember?"
Hunter groaned, and stood up from the bar. He almost lost his balance due to being extremely drunk, but he held onto the bar top, managing not to fall. They left the bar, walking through the bazaar towards the store where they had bought the ship. Signs and advertisements cast a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors against the backdrop of the sky, illuminating the narrow alleys. In the shadows, figures lurked in the alleyways, their faces obscured by hoods. Imperial security patrols move through the streets, their presence a constant reminder of the dangers that were present in the shadows of the night. Rex and Hunter kept their heads down so as to not be recognized by the patrol.
"Everything is my fault," Hunter mumbled to himself on the way back to the ship. "Wrecker and Tech's death, Omega's scars-"
"Hunter, will you shut up?!" Rex whisper yelled, fed up with his constant self-pity. "None of this bullshit is your fault. We've established this."
They were almost at the store, walking along the street of beggars, the bazaar gaining an eerie aura during the dead of night. When they made it to the store, it was closed, but the gate around back was intentionally left open so they could get their ship and leave.
They entered the ship, hearing the rest of the group talking about something. Rex went to the cockpit to make sure everything was okay, and Hunter followed, sitting in one of the chairs in the cockpit and closing his eyes. When Rex exited the cockpit to rejoin the other members, he heard what they were discussing.
"As much as we all loved Tech, he sacrificed himself for the team, and there's nothing we can do about that now. The fact of the matter is that we're down a person," Gregor said. "There's only five of us left, four not counting Omega."
"Do you have some sort of grand plan to get us out of this situation?" Echo asked.
"Where in that sentence did I imply that?"
"By bringing it up," Echo argued.
"I think I know of something we can do," Omega said quietly.
"What is it, kid?" Echo asked, talking more kindly and gently to her than he was to Gregor.
"I was kind of eavesdropping on the plan earlier, and I think we can get around this by-"
"Get to your point," Gregor almost scolded her.
Omega sighed, frustrated. "We need to get Howzer out of prison, sooner rather than later."