Chapter Text
“Pay Attention!” Hunter grabs hold of your upper arm, roughly pulling you behind the heavy metal boxes in the cargo bay. Shots whiz above your head as Hunter returns fire on the droids that are following quickly behind Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker.
“I am!” You yell back at him, your blaster warm in your hand. Hunter ducks as a shot nearly misses him, and you take the moment to move. You can hear him yell something from behind you as you go for the ramp controls, keeping your cover behind the wall of the marauder. You peek around the corner when you hear the heavy footsteps of the rest of the batch, returning another round of fire before hitting the controls to close the doors. Tech is the first one in, and then Wrecker and Crosshair. The doors close with perfect timing, and Tech is quick to get the marauder in the air.
Silence echoes in the ship for a moment as everyone catches their breath.
“Nice job on the doors, Hunter!” Wrecker cheers, breaking the silence. Hunter only frowns, stretching his shoulder casually as he looks at you- your stomach drops when you see that he’s injured.
“Wasn’t me.” He grunts, and Wrecker’s smile wavers for a moment. You’re quick to go for your medkit
“Well, good job to you too I guess!” Wrecker says, less confidently than before as he watches you scramble. Cross simply rolls his eyes, heading to the cockpit without saying a word. Wrecker follows. You’ve already begun opening the medkit when Hunter walks up behind you. You turn to face him, not really knowing what to say. His face is stern, and with the way he’s acting, you almost think you’ve done something wrong. But you haven’t. Hunter says nothing. He takes some bandages and some bacta spray from the kit and leaves. You practically feel yourself deflating. Two weeks. Two weeks of the same attitude. The same distance. If this is how they treat a nat-born medic, you’d hate to see the way they’d treat a reg. Why did you ever agree to this?
Kamino was exactly like you thought it would be. Wet, stormy oceans. Clean, sterilized hallways. Multiple faces that all look the same. The hangar is buzzing with life. Starships arriving, leaving, unloading. Clone troopers of every age and rank pass you in neat, straight lines, only stopping to salute the Togruta Jedi who stands tall next to you. In the midst of all of this organised, manufactured work, four helmeted figures stand out amongst the others. Dark armor, red accents, a beaten-up and modified Omicron-cass attack shuttle looming behind them, ramp still on the ground. It’d take a fool not to recognise Clone Force 99.
“Are you really sure about this?” You ask, adjusting your standard-issue medpack. The straps are a little long, not fitting your frame as well as it does the clones that it was designed for. A few clone cadets stare at you as they pass, and you give them a small wave. They snap back to attention so fast it almost makes you feel a little guilty. Shaak Ti’s smile never wavers.
“I am. You’ll fit right in once you get settled.” Her voice is smooth and confident. You want to believe her, but the longer you stay on Kamino, in these clothes, with this gear, the more out of place you begin to feel. She walks ahead of you just by a hair. Shaak Ti is the picture of elegance and calm. You, on the other hand… You’re not sure you’ve ever been this nervous.
One of the four troopers is the first to straighten his spine as the two of you approach, elbowing the tall, wide one that stands next to him before they all come to attention. You can feel the gazes that burn into you, even without being able to see their eyes.
“General.” The trooper addresses Shaak Ti with a respectful nod. She nods back, raising a hand to let them know to relax. They take their Helmets off. You were briefed on their Identification numbers beforehand, but it’s practically impossible to match numbers to a face. One thing that the others were definitely right about, though, is that these troopers looked unlike any other clones you’ve met before. Shaak Ti calls your name.
“This is Sargent Hunter; those behind him are Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair.” You smile back at them, trying to push away the nerves. There’s a tenseness in the air that you can feel clear as day. None of the troopers spare you a glance, really. Not now that their helmets are off.
“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m your new me-”
“Like I’ve said before, general. We don’t need a medic. The four of us have things covered.” Hunter interrupts you. You square your shoulders, a spark of indignation lighting within you. You’ve never had a good poker face, and your frown only deepens when Hunter spares you a passing glance. You hear a snicker from someone behind him. When you look at Shaak Ti, she simply raises an eyebrow.
“I seem to recall that we’ve had this conversation before, Sargent.” She says, without missing a beat.
“We’re all trained in basic first aid, general. Tech takes care of the rest.” The way the Sargent speaks to the general is more comfortable than you’re used to. Seems the rumors were true about their Issue with taking orders.
“Hunter, if your team hadn’t outright refused to work with any standard clone medic actively stationed on Kamino, I might have given you more grace when it came to this subject. You’re lucky I went out of my way to find a contracted medic for you instead. You have your orders, as does she.” Shaak Ti sends a smile your way, and you nod back at her. Thank you. Hunter looks at her for a minute, before turning back to his brothers and motioning to the ship with his head. They all split, grabbing things and readying for departure- although you swear you see Crosshair- you think- rolling his eyes along the way. Hunter gives Shaak Ti a polite goodbye before walking off with them. You let out a deep sigh as he does so.
“You’ll be fine, just give them some time.” Shaak Ti sets a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you feel yourself relax a little bit.
“I understand, General.” You respond. The words feel foreign in your mouth. She nods, giving your shoulder one last gentle squeeze before leaving. And just like that, you’re alone. almost.
“I trust that you’ll keep up with us, Medic,” Hunter’s voice almost startles you. They’ve almost completely packed already, and you find yourself walking closer to the foot of the ramp. The wide one- Wrecker, swerves around you, laughing at something as he hauls a large box onto the ship.
“I think you’ll be surprised.” You retort, bringing your attention back to the sergeant and sending him a tight-lipped smile. He doesn’t nod, but simply stares. Crosshair practically shoulder checks you on his way up the ramp, and you try not to take offense to the way Hunter snickers at it.
“Good. We won’t be slowing down for you.” Crosshair says, passing Hunter and heading into the ship. The sergeant follows in after him. You’ve only got a few steps onto the ramp before it starts to retract, tripping you up a bit. With hurried steps, you manage to make it inside in time. Once the ramp is up and the doors are closed, no one spares you a glance.
Real friendly bunch, these guys.
The ceiling of the marauder is painted.
For a while, you didn’t really notice. Dark splotches on dimly lit steel ceilings don’t exactly stand out unless you’ve been staring at them for weeks on end. You had been, though. It’s scruffy and dark, but it’s paint nonetheless.
The Marauder isn’t the home you were hoping it would be. Things were… tense. To say the least. The boys were cliquey, as were most clone troopers, but to be honest, they take it to a new level. It’s not like they outright ignore you- but it’s pretty clear that they don’t trust you. Not yet. They established that from the start, and they certainly established that with the shootout from this morning.
The paint on the ceiling is a skull. Or at least, you think it is. Faded and blotchy. You wonder if one of the boys drew it. Or if it belonged to a brother of theirs. You don’t know how many clones were made for their batch, or how long it’s been just the four of them. How incredibly lonely, to think that they’re all they have left. You try not to picture the faceless brother who painted it. It was probably just Wrecker, anyway.
The ship jumps once it exits hyperspace, and you take that as your cue to get up. You have to watch your head as you jump off of the top bunk, feet planting steadily on the cold floor. The marauder is strangely quiet. Sure, it’s not like anyone other than Wrecker had really talked to you today, but this was quiet even for them. The door to the cockpit is closed, but usually you can still hear the hum of their voices from inside- the door slides open with a shoosh, and the reason for the quiet becomes clear.
“She’s awake!” Wrecker cheers when you enter, clapping you on the back. The bright blue holo of General Kenobi stands front and center on the dash. You’ve walked in mid-conversation.
“Nice of you to join us,” Obi-Wan says pleasantly, calling your name with a familiar tone in his voice. “Its good to see you.” You smile back at the holo, ignoring the questioning look that Hunter and Tech share.
“Likewise. Sorry that I’m late, I got carried away with the time.” The lie rolls off your tongue easier than expected. They forgot to wake you- or simply chose not to, you were sure of it. And here you were, covering for them anyway. Spineless. You try to shake the thought, smiling at Obi-Wan, who simply chuckles.
“Please, carry on. I can get the details later.” You finish. The general nods, but recounts his brief once again. You feel yourself relax a little at that. For a second, at least.
t’s not until the general’s holo blinks out that you really understand just where he’s sending you.
“Elita-12? Seriously?” Wrecker complains. “Right when I thought we’d get to do something interesting.” You’ve taken a seat in the cockpit, awkwardly listening to the batch as they bicker- like you had been since you had gotten here. So much for ‘Fitting right in’ huh?
“You shouldn’t have expected anything too fun, Wrecker. Not while the medic is here, at least.” Crosshair’s snark isn’t a surprise to you anymore.
“I am sitting right here, you know.” You sigh. Crosshair only smirks.
“Really? It seems you’re good for something, after all.” He retorts. Your hackles raise a little, before you quiet down that spark of anger and annoyance again. You weren’t going to bother. Not with him. Not with any of them. You knew your worth. In time, they would too. Or they wouldn’t. It’s not like you have a choice to be anywhere else.
“Don’t relax just yet. Just because the space station is abandoned doesn’t make it an easy mission. “ Hunter’s voice is low and calm.
“Hunter is right, the black box could be anywhere on that station. It could take us hours to find it.” Tech says, and you’re pretty sure it’s the first time you’ve heard him talk all day. Right. The black box. That’s all you needed from the station, and then you could leave.
“Have you tried downloading the station’s blueprints?” You ask, trying to be helpful.
“Of course I did,” Tech responds immediately, shaking his head at you like it was a stupid question. He certainly made you feel like it was at least. “The files I can intercept from this distance are too corrupted. We’ll have to go in and scan for it manually.” So, hours of aimlessly wandering. Great. Good for you. You take a deep breath. Everything’s fine. The ship lurches again, knocking you a little unsteady as the large mouth of the station’s hangar begins to open. It’s just a few hours. What could go wrong?
Walking into Elita-12 feels like walking into the underworld. Dark. empty. Lit only by emergency lights, and the headlamps on the batch’s helmets. No sound other than that of your heavy footfalls and Tech’s scanner. It’s not the way it looks that bothers you, though. It’s the way it feels. Like despair, and loneliness, and fear.
“Let’s head towards the command center.” Tech states, after a few too many minutes of silence. “I’m still unable to connect to the main databases to retrieve the blueprints, but if I can get the main circuit board up and running, I should have no trouble. “
“You look a little pale, Medic.” Crosshair comments. You look up at him with a furrowed brow. You can’t see his smirk, but you know it’s there.
“I’m fine.” You mumble. Hunter is behind you, and you can feel his heavy gaze on your back. Each room and hallway you clear on your way to the command center is more torn up than the last. Scars from blaster fire, loose wiring hanging from the ceiling, and bloodstains on the floor. You’re not a squeamish person, and you never have been, but the longer you linger in this place, the more you start to feel the gravity of what had happened here.
There’s one particular room that you find that sticks with you the most. One close to the head of the station.
It’s a bunk room. Two bunks, one durasteel desk that had been built into the wall. Remnants of the cloth blankets still remain on the floor. This room was… scarred. To say the least. Long holes streak across the walls. The bunks were practically cut to pieces- the pieces of the mattress that had been spared marked with dark, ashy singes from the heat. Lightsaber marks. An ominous creaking comes from further down the hallways, and a shiver runs down your spine. The atmosphere is much heavier than any other room you have been in so far.
“So how do you know General Kenobi?” Hunter’s voice makes you jump. You whip your head around to look at him, squinting at the bright light from his helmet. As much of an ass as he is, he still turns it off for you to be able to look at him properly. Good to know that he’s capable of common courtesy.
“We met sometime back during my combat-medic training. I’m surprised he even remembered my name, really.” The words come out as second nature; you shift a little, nervously. Hunter walks further into the room to inspect it, and he whistles, standing next to you.
“Looks like some Jedi had a hissy fit.” He says. If that was a joke, it didn’t really land. Tech calls out to the two of you from somewhere further down the hallway, and you gladly take it as a chance to get out of this room. As stuffy and dusty as this space station was, stepping out of that door had felt like a breath of fresh air.
“Watch your step in the hallway, Sarge. I think the floor is a little- uhh, broken.” You hear Wrecker call out from the end of the hallway. You can’t see him or the others all that well, but you can see the beams of their headlamps somewhere up ahead. You’re walking towards them with smooth steps, just a few feet behind Hunter. Right when you think you might be about to catch up, the Sargent holds an arm out to stop you abruptly. He flicks his chin towards the floor, and finally turns his helmet light back on.
So that’s what that sound was earlier.
“Wrecker, do you want to tell me why the floor is missing?” Hunter barks out at the group ahead of you. Wrecker takes a few steps forward, separated by the oddly deep cavern below you. Tech and Crosshair aren’t with him, and you get the feeling they let him be the one to warn Hunter for a reason.
“It fell, Duh.” Wrecker laughs, a boisterous sound that quiets down into a nervous ending.
“Wrecker,” Hunter warns. Wrecker clears his throat.
“I didn't do it on purpose, Sarge! Tech said you should be able to jump it with enough speed.”
“How do we know that this whole section won't come down if we do that?” You speak up. Wrecker tilts his head at you, and you sigh. Hunter snaps his head over to the side suddenly. His feet shift back a few feet, and it looks like he's searching the floor below you.
“Sarge, you alright?” Wrecker asks. You look over at Hunter, unable to read his expression. Then- a loud creaking comes from underneath you as the flooring starts to sink.
Hunter is quick to tackle you out of the way as the steel floor below you slopes. The section you were standing on is gone- and what should have been safe ground also begins to creak and snap- ready to be next.
“Hold on!” Hunter yells as you scramble to gain your balance. He uses the back of your coveralls to haul you towards him, reaching an arm under your shoulder to grab hold of you while the floor begins to slope more and more. You’re trying not to panic, but no matter what you reach out to, you can’t grab hold of anything.
Hunter finally gets hold of his grappling hook, making a shot right as the floor gives way again. Wrecker yells something you can't hear, but you and Hunter are already falling. You’re so sure that he had made a perfect shot- bracing for the sharp stop once the hook gains purchase on something. There’s just one issue- it doesn’t.
Your plummet into this abyss of a space station is disorienting. It felt like it was seconds- it felt like it was hours. What you do know for sure is that Hunter, in all his armor, definitely did not cushion your landing.
“Fuck.” The pain takes a second to fully hit you, your arms and legs feeling like pins and needles as you roll off of Hunter. You wiggle your fingers and toes, and once you’re somewhat sure you’re not paralyzed, you do your best to sit up, switching your focus over to Hunter when you hear him groan.
“Are you okay?” You ask, reaching out to help him sit up.
“Do I look okay?” He retorts. You make a face at that. Seriously, dude? Can’t he just accept your help for once? You help him stand anyway. He tries to hold his own weight at first, but in the end he gives up, leaning on you for support.
“You guys okay?” Wrecker calls out somewhere above you. You can see the light from his helmet, but everything else is pitch black.
“We’re fine.” Hunter yells back. You do your best not to roll your eyes in the change of his tone. He pushes off of you to stand on his own, and you let him. Something is wrong. You can tell he’s hurt just by a glance, but it’s so hard to see down here you can’t figure out how, or where.
“Where are we?” You ask. It’s impossible to see down here, but from the sound of it, you’re standing on a grated walkway.
“Pretty sure it’s a maintenance tunnel.” Hunter says after a quick glance, before looking back up from where you fell. “Keep going towards the command center. We’ll find a way out from down here.” Wrecker make a noise of affirm from above, and you hear his heavy footsteps as he walks back towards the others.
“So, how are we supposed to find our way out, exactly?” You ask, after a moment. Hunter turns back to look at you, before shifting his gaze to the long, dark tunnel that lies ahead.
“I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes.” He says, before turning his headlamp back on. The tunnel ahead is brighter than before, but still, like all the other paths in this forsaken place, leads right back into darkness.
“Fun.” You mumble. Because there’s no place you’d rather be than stuck in the dark with the Sargent who seems to hate your guts. Hunter limps forward without saying anything else, and you take it as your cue to get moving. It only takes a few steps for you to notice that Hunter is a lot more injured from that fall than he’s letting on.
“Hunter-”
“It can wait till we get back to the Marauder. “ He rumbles. You frown.
“Look, I understand that-”
“I already told you. It. Can. wait.” He interrupts again.’ You’. They never call you by your name. Just ‘you’. Or ‘The medic’ or ‘that girl’. This time, you can’t bite back your aggravation.
“Okay, that’s enough.” You say, stopping in your tracks.
“Excuse me?” Hunter’s stern tone isnt new to you. He turns a little to look back at you.
“I said that’s enough!” You say again, not bothering to keep your voice low. “Look. I get that I’m an outsider. I understand that I might be hard to trust, but you need to stop with the bullshit!” Hunter scoffs at that, shaking his head at you as he tries to move on- but you dont give him the chance, grabbing hold of his arm and yanking him backward.
“Like it or not. I’m just as capable as you are, and I’m here to help. I’m- I am a medic. I was assigned to your troop for a reason, and I can’t help you if you won’t let me!” Hunter reels around to look at you at that, standing tall and intimidating.
“Do you really think that this is the first time they’ve tried to force a medic on us?!” He snarls. “The last thing we need on this squad is some random nat-born who only thinks of us as equipment. We didn’t need a reg, and we don’t need you.” The words have you taken aback for a moment, before it twists into the most intense frustration that you think you’ve ever felt.
“Do you seriously think I’m that shallow?!”
“Have you tried to prove it otherwise?”
“YES!” The words echo through the metal walls of the maintenance tunnel, and Hunter is quiet for once. You stand there for a moment, looking at the reflection of yourself you see through the visor on his helmet. You can’t see his eyes. You cant see his face. You can’t feel the way he was feeling, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make your own feelings clear.
“Look at where we are, Hunter! How many times do I have to try and prove to you that I want to help you- help your brothers- before any of you actually start listening to me!” You say, clenching your fists. “Now you can sit down and let me help you for once, or I’m sedating you and forcing you too.” The words come out like venom, and if you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that hunter looked surprised. Still, he stands in front of you, unmoving.
“Sit down, Sargent. I’m not going to ask again.” You demand. Hunter turns away from you, and you bite back a sigh. All of that. All of that, and he doesn’t even care. You doubt he was even really listening to you.
You think he wasn’t, at least, until you hear a screech from his direction. When you look up at Hunter, you see that he’s found some old tool crates, and was hauling them over. You watch as he stacks them on top of eachother, nudges them once to ensure that they were steady, and sits. Hunter takes off his helmet, setting it to the side so that the headlamp illuminates him better. You stand there, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at you.
“Well? Are you going to prove it, or not?”