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He slumped into the the co-pilot’s seat of the Havoc Marauder, exhaustion finally settling into his bones, deep into the very being of his soul. That last mission had worn the sergeant out far more than he had anticipated it to. He sighed as he slowly untied the knot holding his crimson bandana tightly to his forehead, releasing his curly brown locks all around his face. Normally the feeling of his own hair was enough to piss him off, yet tonight? Tonight, he didn’t really care.
He glanced over to his pilot slumped over the steering and smirked; Tech’s goggles had smashed sideways into his face, leaving a red circle where the lens once was. Hunter chuckled, shook his head and stood with a groan to pull his squadmate’s chest plate strap, making him fall back into his seat before he carefully removed the goggles from his face, resting them on the dash; Hunter nodded, making a quiet note to return in a few minutes to possibly move Tech to his bunk.
He slowly made his way to the bunks to observe the newest member to their rag-tag bunch, a reg who was no longer man, yet wasn’t machine enough to be considered a droid per say. Hunter leaned against the frame of his own bunk, having temporarily given it up to the corporal, Echo was the higher-ranking officer afterall, he deserved the bigger bunk; at least this way Hunter could give the man some of his dignity back.
He watched as Echo awkwardly tossed and turned in the bunk, clearly unsure how to sleep with only one organic limb. Hunter did everything in his power not to pity the man, he had been to haran and back a few times over; while the batch had seen the horrors of the clone war, Echo had certainly seen a whole other side of the battle, one Hunter couldn’t begin to fathom, but he could certainly feel.
Every time he dared to go near Echo he could feel the mechanical power surging his body, he could hear the gears in his chest turning, forcing his heart to beat. Hunter crouched and rested his chin on his own bunk -doing everything in how power to not cringe at the strong “reg” smell- he couldn’t help but wonder to himself if that was really blood running through the ARC’s veins, or had it been changed to an oil-like substance?
He kept watching for a bit longer before finally deciding he wanted his whole squad in their bunks, rest was important; especially if he expected to shift his squad into a sense of normalcy again.
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Hunter first checked Wrecker’s bunk, releasing an audible sigh of relief spotting the giant in place, the five-foot eight sergeant had no interest in attempting to lug the six-foot six leviathan up to his bunk. He cruised past Crosshair’s bunk, knowing full well that the sniper was in place; Crosshair followed a strict routine when on board the Marauder, making it quite easy to keep up with him; this leaving only Tech out of place.
Hunter smiled as he crouched at the knee of his pilot, knowing better than to just shaking him awake -one of Wrecker’s blaster scars was the result of scaring Tech awake after all- The sergeant carefully removed the technician’s blasters from his side holsters and rested them in the co-pilot’s seat as a precaution before gently moving Tech’s own cup of -now cold- caf under his nose, smirking when the technician shifted and rubbed his eyes
“Come on, you’re gonna hurt your neck worse if you sleep there.”
“It is likely lukewarm now.”
Hunter smirked as Tech reached to adjust his absent goggles, the sergeant quickly handing them to his pilot before the confusion could fully set in. He offered the mug with a raise of his eyebrow
“Yeah, it’s pretty cold, you left it here for a few hours, but it’s probably still drinkable”
Tech scrunched his nose as he reluctantly accepted the cup, swirled the cold, brown liquid, then set it back down on the table he had rested it on hours ago, the exact same spot as before, making Hunter roll his eyes as he hoisted himself back to his feet. Tech adjusted his goggles again and gazed into the hyperspace as he nudged the unwanted cup further from himself
“That is horribly disgusting. What time is it currently?”
“Around 0200 hours, how about we get you back to your bunk?”
“Who will pilot the Marauder?”
Hunter feigned betrayal, overdramatically enough to make a very much still asleep Tech chuckle to himself
“I’m the oldest here, I think I can pilot MY ship just fine Tech!”
Both men smiled and laughed to themselves before Tech stood up, grabbed the mug and started his way to the bunks; he stopped and turned to his Sargent with a head tilt
“Are you not coming to your bunk?”
“Nah, I’m letting Echo use it until we can get back to Kamino and get him his own bunk.”
Tech made a sound that was a mixture of amusement and disdain before adjusting his goggles and running a hand through his short hair,
“That’s an odd decision; I would not have surrendered my space to him. Or to anyone for that matter.”
“I know Tech, it’s only for a few rotations though, I’ll live.”
The pilot snickered as he turned his heel and dropped the mug in the sink of their kitchenette
“It’s quite amusing you believe that Hunter.”
To which Hunter only rolled his eyes and plopped down in the vacated pilot’s seat, wincing at the lingering body heat radiating off of it as he shifted uncomfortably; before closing his eyes, finally allowing sleep to overtake him.
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“Why do you always bother me!?”
“Bother? I’m not bothering you ad’ika vod, I’m taking care of you.”
The cadet exclaimed while squirming away from the janitor, who was quite determined to detangle the mess of hair the cadet was sporting. Ninety-Nine quickly bonked the cadet on the shoulder as he firmly pushed his shoulders down, making him sit back down on the chair he had the child previously sitting on.
“Well, you insist on keepin’ this messy mop, someone’s gonna havet’a teach you to take care of it.”
“Or I could just let it exist; I don’t get why I have to care so much about things that don’t matter any, it gets shoved in a helmet anyway.”
Ninety-Nine clicked his tongue at that remark, before sighing and crouching down next to the cadet with a groan and resting a hand on the child’s shoulder.
“Hunter, you’re set to be your squad’s Sargent, you have to LOOK the part. You need to show that you can protect your team, even if it starts with tamin’ your hair.”
Hunter sighed and leaned his chin on his fist, his eyes trailing to the ever foggy, rainy window overlooking the Kamino sea. It was calm for once, a rare yet welcome occurrence.
“What if I don’t want to be their sergeant?”
“Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose that one vod, your general does.”
The child’s voice fell into a whisper
Soon, Hunter had perched himself on one of the millions of railings of the billions of balconies on Tapioca city. He was spinning his vibrio blade when he heard the soft splash, causing him to whip around and throw the blade, it narrowly missing his lurker, the fellow cadet looked at the blade, to Hunter, and to the blade again; Hunter only letting out a sigh
“Vod, I almost stabbed you, why are you sneaking around after lights out?”
“Well, I was coming to ask you the same question! Mistress Shaak Ti says us cadets need at the very least eight hours of sleep to function at our highest capacity for training!”
Hunter blinked a few times
“Did.. they make another Tech?”
“What? No. My name is CT-27-5555!”
The cadet walked more into the light and gave a goofy salute, making Hunter laugh a bit harder
“I though you regs hated us? Aren’t we the “sad batch” or whatever?”
“Regular clones, like you.”
Hunter shifted uncomfortably, him not used to any reg having ever bothered to have a civil conversation with him before, yet the cadet climbed his way up on the railing with far more ease than Hunter had, him clearly being a bit older
“I wouldn’t really call myself that, most of our vode don’t like cracking jokes, and I have a habit of rushing ahead; I’d say that’s pretty damn weird.”
Hunter snorted and swung his legs, looking up at the teenager with a smile
“At least you’re not a sergeant at eight.”
“Nah, I’m a kark-up at fourteen,”
This making the younger cadet cackle more, the teen resting a hand on his back to ensure he doesn’t fall.
“C’mon, let’s get you in your bunk buddy.”
Hunter followed him with a smile, when they finally reached Clone Force 99’s bunks he stopped and pouted
“Probably in battle, but I’ll be in a lame shebs reg suit and you’ll be in a wizard commando suit”
“What if I paint it so you know me?”
The older clone snorted and ruffled his hair
“Sure vod, paint a red triangle on your helmet and I’ll give myself one too, bet?”
“Bet. And I’ll be the best sergeant you’ve ever seen!”
The teen smirked and straightened his shoulders as he pushed the younger cadet in his room
“I know you will, and I’ll get to be an ARC you’ll never forget.”
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Hunter jerked awake, his visor a bright blue, blinding him as he coughed, he squinted his eyes to see Tech shaking him, his golden goggles damaged, one lens was completely gone, his brown hair escaping the busted frame. His brown eyes were swollen with tears as his mouth moved, but no words came out; the only time Hunter had ever seen Tech be speechless. He leaned up with a groan, this was their first ever mission, what… happened? His eyes darted to where Tech was pointing, the shiny pilot only able to manage a squeak as Hunter’s eyes went wide as they landed on Wrecker’s mangled body; the memories of the past twenty or so minutes.
He scrambled to his feet, the traditional commando gear too large for his body, he jerked his helmet off and threw it to the side, sliding next to Wrecker and scooping his head into his lap. Crosshair then shoved him away, causing mud to cake onto his shiny white armor as he slid
“You have done enough, do not touch him. We need a medic.”
“I need to… Crosshair let me check on him.. I’m.. I’m your sergeant you need to listen to me!”
Hunter attempted to command as he scrambled to his feet, the sniper slowly raising up to stare him down, the height difference as clear as night and day
“Some sergeant you are, Hunter. Wrecker is probably dead from your so-called leadership. Tech can’t speak for some reason, and I don’t have a single puck left to try and save us. You are so selfish, maybe you should just go...”
Tech cut him off before he could finish that sentence, his datapad reading “THIS WILL NOT ASSIST OUR SITUATION.” Crosshair let out a huff and tossed his hands in the air as he stormed off, presumably to find a reg medic, leaving Hunter and Tech alone, in the bloody mess of their explosions expert. Dissociation slowly overtakes the sergeant as the pilot desperately tried to tap into his very brief medical training. Hunter mumbled to himself over and over again, a repeated phrase, a mantra of sorts,
“That reg lied, he lied, I’m not a good sergeant… that reg lied, he lied, I’m not a good sergeant… that reg lied, he lied, I’m not a good sergeant… that reg lied, he lied, I’m not a good sergeant…”
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Hunter shot up, hyperventilating from the trauma induced nightmare, a memory he could only wish to shake, he began to scramble up to once again check in on his team, only to be stopped by a scomp resting on his shoulder and a ghostly pale, slightly bearded smile, looking down at him
“Rest easy sergeant, we’re safe. Also, you talk a lot in your sleep.”
“I.. wait, how long were you…”
“Long enough. You’re a good leader Hunter, that reg didn’t lie, and he’s fine.”
“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”
Echo gave him a knowing smile, amused at the confusion in his sergeant’s voice
“Trust me Hunter, if there’s one thing I can swear, it’s that. I’ve been through haran and back, just listen to me vod.”
Hunter gave him a sympathetic smile and stood, patting the ARC’s shoulder
“Fine, but you won’t have to again okay?”
Echo sighed with a weak smile as he glanced at his scomp
“I hope you’re right, sarge.”
“You won’t have to sacrifice yourself again Echo, we don’t do that shebs here on Clone Force 99.”
“Good. Now get the kark back in your bunk.”
Hunter chucked and tilted his head
“And who will pilot the ship?”
“Someone who will stay awake, obviously. Shoo”
“And why do I have to listen to you?”
Echo chuckled and smacked his forehead
“Because I’m your corporal Hunter, now get your sheb in bed.”
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