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Rolling green hills stretched beyond the horizon, no trees to break up the monotony, no signs of colonization, no clankers or separatist action to defend against. It was to be expected, Tech had done thorough research as he was wont to do before informing them the planet was uninhabited and the most optimal place for their purpose. After three executive, grueling missions with a few too many close calls for each of them, they finally had a chance to take a step away from it all.
Small patches of pale flowers were sprinkled throughout the large expanse of green, the only instance of color other than the lavender hues of the sky as the sun began to make its descent. The Marauder had no issues finding a place to land, which was most likely going to leave grooves in the soft soil when they inevitably had to give up this brief stint of peace and return to the real world. But for now, they pushed the looming pressure of war from their minds and let themselves pretend they had nothing to get back to.
Echo inhaled deeply, the smell of fresh grass and crisp air filled his lungs and took any stress he held with the wind as he released it in a sigh. Under the cover of the Marauder’s wing he felt a modicum of safety. Feeling the hard durasteel against his back eased the primal part of his brain that felt uneasy at the lack of cover around him. Even though logically he knew they wouldn’t be ambushed at any moment, his battle trained mind melded with a similarly purposed processor kept him alert.
Even though the batch would prefer to be anywhere but Kamino, they often spent their downtime on the water based planet. It was a sudden change of pace to choose a destination that was the polar opposite of their aforementioned homeworld. A welcome change, don’t get him wrong, but it was so beyond the norm it caught him off guard. Sure, nerves were stretched thin and everyone was running on fumes, so maybe he was overreacting just a little bit, but he was firmly in denial of that possibility.
Being on this untouched planet was nothing like leave with the 501st, though he figured he’d be used to that by now, what with 2 months of being assigned to the batch and everything. Nothing about Clone Force 99 was anything like what he was accustomed to before... well, before everything that happened to him after Lola Sayu. But in this instance, with his sluggish brain, he seemed to be hooked on this one particular comparison.
There was no bassy music that rattled his bones, no cheap alcoholic beverages that tasted like engine fuel and went down like acid. There were no well meaning brothers stubbing each other's toes as they stumbled around the dance floor in an attempt to follow the rhythm that pulsed through the floorboards. No exclamations of joy, gentle ribbing from one vod to the next, or quiet murmurs between a somber few after a particularly harsh mission.
He supposed there was a bit of commotion, but there always was whenever Wrecker was around, so it was really no surprise. Echo couldn’t help but be thankful that there were no explosives involved, that being the typical commotion produced by the largest batcher, and there had been enough of those just in the past few days. Though, now that he was paying attention…
“I bet I could rig something up! ’m sure I have a spare detonator lying ‘round ‘ere somewhere, all I need to do is hook it up to a few ‘splosives and they could be like those colorful rockets we saw that one time!” Wrecker declared exuberantly, waving his arms around to accentuate his point.
Echo could feel a headache building at the base of his neck and pulse in his right temple, one that had been persistent since their triple mission bash had taken off. He didn’t feel the need to be the one to shoot the idea down, after all Tech was the one who Wrecker was dishing the idea to. Surely their bespectacled brother would see reason and let him down in his matter of fact way of his.
The small spark of hope he held was doused however, when Tech placed his hand on his chin and stared at his vod pensively. It was obvious he was running the calculations. It was also clear to everyone around that he was coming to a favorable conclusion for their explosives expert, and Wrecker knew it too if his widening grin was any indication.
It was when Tech opened his mouth to entertain that (rather dangerous, in Echo’s opinion) idea, that Echo decided he should step in and nip it in the bud. The cyborg quickly pushed off from the ship and crossed the short distance between them, entering the fading sunlight for the first time since they made it planetside. He expertly placed himself between the two and blocked the path back to the Marauder.
Echo crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, his body language reflecting his no-nonsense attitude, “We are in a highly flammable area that should not have fireworks going off in. The soil isn’t sturdy enough to hold whatever it is you’d make, and any stray sparks catching on the grass would spread fast. Also, there are no nearby water sources, but even if there were we probably wouldn’t be able to keep control of said fire.”
Possible outcomes flashed behind his eyes in bits of binary and visual imagery, furthering his resolve even as Wrecker tried to squeeze a word in, “So no, you are not going to try and replicate those colorful rockets, understand?”
Tech pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose but didn’t scoff at the data that was provided. Wrecker on the other hand seemed to wilt, his shoulders sagging as his permagrin pulled downwards. The expression he wore was a mix between a kicked massiff and a pleading one, and Echo could feel guilt begin to writhe in his chest. As the seconds went by and Wrecker's eyes only got wider and sadder, Echo felt his resolve start to crack.
He understood that being the responsible one was hard, he played that role more often than not, and he was good at it. He wasn’t swayed easily, he was an ARC trooper damnit, he’d faced down swarms of clankers without batting an eye. But when faced with a pouting Wrecker with the knowledge that they all really needed this break, it was hard to keep his iron will intact.
With a heavy sigh, the cyborg looked to the sky for strength before lowering his gaze back on the larger clone. He was about to try and soften what he had said, maybe offer a compromise of some sort, but before he could get a word out long arms draped over his shoulders from behind and a tall body leaned into him. Said body went limp almost immediately, dropping their entire body weight (plus their armor) on the unsuspecting cyborg. Not for the first time he was thankful for his mechanical legs, as instead of buckling at the sudden addition, he only swayed forward before finding his balance again. Silver fluff caressed his cheek as their resident sharpshooter hung off of Echo’s back like a glorified backpack.
Echo huffed and narrowed his gaze, a wary feeling washing over him, “What are you doing?”
The lithe clone blinked lazily and leaned more into the ARC trooper, if that was even possible, “Not sure what you’re talking about, reg.” Crosshair’s typical drawl held a hint of mischief along with the smirk that quirked his lips. That never bode well when it came to the sniper.
Echo was right to be suspicious, as out of the corner of his eye he saw Wrecker bound past the two of them with all of his energy restored. It was all too late when the cyborg realized that he had been successfully distracted. With an annoyed grumble Echo attempted to shake Crosshair off, but the man was stuck to him like glue. With every shift or jab of his elbow into the sniper's ribs, it only seemed to seal his fate further as Cross would only wrap himself around him tighter and more secure each time. It was a fierce battle and neither wanted to lose, but in the end Echo caved. At least, that’s what he wanted Crosshair to think.
It was a testament to how worn out the batch was. He feigned his resignation, letting his shoulders sag forward, loosening his vod’s grip just enough for him to reach up with his left hand and use his forward momentum to toss the taller clone over his shoulder. With a strangled yelp that Cross would vehemently deny later on, the silver haired man landed on his back in a burst of white petals.
Echo tried to hold back his triumphant grin, or at least that’s what he told himself, but the laughter that bubbled up couldn’t be contained. There was something so soft and wonderfully amusing about Crosshair glaring up at him upside down, stray strands of grass and soft white petals decorating his chest and face that made his attitude less severe. All the venom the sharpshooter tried to convey through his eyes was curbed by the smile that threatened to pull at his lips.
In one swift motion Crosshair flipped onto his stomach and latched onto Echo’s mechanical calves, pulling him down in retaliation. Echo wobbled before going down, and going down hard. He landed in the flower patch in a heap, a grunt escaping him as his breath was knocked from his chest.
Echo spat petals out of his mouth, shoving his vod with his scomp in a half hearted jab, “That was a dirty move.”
“Pot meets kettle,” Cross scoffed, shoving the cyborg's face back into the patch of flowers they had flattened.
Wrecker burst out from the Marauder in that moment, hands cradling whatever makeshift, firework adjacent explosive he had thrown together, “I did it! Uh… where should we set it off?”
“I’d recommend placing it here,” Tech interjected, digging the toe of his boot into the soil to create a small hole for the device to rest in, “This spot is the perfect distance from the ship but still close enough that the wind is primarily hindered by its large mass.”
“Well alright! Let’s get this thing started!”
Echo observed with a deft gaze as the largest batcher nestled his creation in the pocket, Tech kneeling down beside him and inserting a thick metal rod into the soil, pulling duct tape from seemingly nowhere before securing the device to the rod.
“For extra stability. Echo was correct, starting a wildfire would not be ideal.”
He pushed up his goggles as if to punctuate his statement, his head turning towards the pile of limbs lost in the flower patch a few feet away. Echo hummed in agreement, “At least you’re seeing some reason.”
Echo’s grumbling was cut short as the sniper, now laying on top of him like a blanket, dug his slim fingers in the gap underneath his cuirass and pinched at his vod’s sides. Echo shimmied away from the proding but it was obvious Crosshair had the upper hand, “Your hands are too cold, di’kut.”
“Tough.”
With a deeply burdened sigh, the cyborg gave in and let the taller man bury his freezing digits in his blacks just below his ribs, a truce going unspoken between the two. Peace was short lived however, as their short bickering match caught their exuberant brother’s attention like a siren's call, “Are we gangin’ up on ‘Cho?”
“No!”
“Yes.”
Echo sent a glare at Crosshair, no real heat behind it as he turned back to Wrecker to deter that notion. It was all in vain, as the largest batcher was already making a quick approach, determined in his long strides.
The loud exclamation of “Comin’ in hot!” was the only warning that was given before he launched himself at the flower patch, smothering the two in an explosion of petals once again.
Both Echo and Crosshair groaned and protested the sudden addition of their larger vod, but neither were truly upset as Wrecker curled around them and held them securely in his arms. The sound of rustling came from beside them as Tech settled down easily, not a part of the pile but close enough for him to nudge his foot into Wrecker’s calf as he fiddled with something on his datapad.
A soft chuckle caused Echo to look back at the Marauder, as best as he could with being at the bottom of what was essentially a massiff pile. His faded brown eyes were just able to peek over Crosshair’s shoulder and between the gap of Wrecker’s arm.
There, perched on the lowered stairs that entered the ship, was their Sergeant. His posture was relaxed, his tense muscles at ease along with the soft smile on his face. Echo could count the number of times he’d seen Hunter this unburdened on one hand, not that he had a second one to count with but that's besides the point.
It was refreshing, really. If anyone deserved a break it was Hunter. Out here on this open field, no signs of life to see for miles, Echo assumed there wasn’t much for Hunter’s enhanced senses to pick up on. Because that was almost a constant for the man, as Echo had noticed within the first few weeks of being a part of the batch. It didn’t take a genius to see the tension the tracker held in his shoulders on the daily. One just had to be observant and they could see how the tracker's eyes were pinched at the corners, his jaw clenching at random intervals in tandem with the vein at his temple.
Echo had been tempted to try and help ease whatever he could, because in the aftermath of the Techno Union he became very familiar with chronic migraines, but he hadn’t known the batch for long enough to feel confident to give that kind of offer. That was then, he’d gotten to know them better by now.
With that thought in mind, Echo pinched Crosshair on the inside of his elbow where there was a gap in his armor, earning him an annoyed hiss in the process. He just purposefully flicked his eyes from the sniper’s narrowed gaze to Hunter and back. Cross seemed to catch his meaning and elbowed Wrecker none-too-gently in the side of the head. Said man whined as he pulled back enough to stare down at his ill tempered batchmate, “What was that for?”
Cross did the same as Echo had, flicking his sharp gaze over towards their Sergeant who seemed to be none the wiser to this rather unsubtle interaction. Echo had to hold back an eye roll when Wrecker looked between his brothers before letting out the loudest “OH!” that he possibly could have.
Wrecker released his hold and stood with all the grace he could muster, which wasn’t much as he almost tripped on the tangled legs of the pile he just extracted himself from. By that point Echo could tell Hunter was becoming suspicious. He couldn’t blame him though, Wrecker’s wide and way too innocent looking grin was being reflected as a devious smirk on Crosshair's face and a matching small one on Tech’s as he lounged against the patch of flowers, datapad forgotten in his lap.
“I don’t think I like where this is going…” Hunter cautioned, though he stayed seated, letting whatever scheme that was happening play out.
“C’mon Sarge, join the cuddle pile, y’know you wanna.”
Wrecker's persuasion didn’t seem to land as Hunter leaned back on his hands, cocking his head to the side and raising a tattooed brow, “Do I?”
“Of course you do!” Wrecker closed the distance with his large steps, arms outstretched and ready to lock onto their target.
If Hunter really wanted to he could have told his vod off, or at least ducked out of the way. Instead, he saw his brothers approach and huffed an amused breath. Echo responded kindly with his own laugh as he watched Wrecker wrap their Sergeant up in a tight, back cracking embrace that the cyborg could hear from where he was still being used as a pillow. He winced in sympathy, but all seemed to be well as Wrecker carried Hunter towards their impromptu place of rest and deposited him to the pile.
Crosshair nipped at Hunter’s fingers as the tracker pushed at his shoulder to get him to move off of Echo, much to the ARC troopers delight and disappointment. Hunter flicked him in the nose gently with a fond shake of his head, which Cross huffed at before conceding and sliding off of Echo’s chest to lay against his side, fingers still buried in his blacks to keep them warm.
Wrecker waited for everyone to get situated before unceremoniously laying himself on top of them once again, though this time with Hunter in the mix. Tech still stayed safely to the side, but not completely excluded. Echo felt something brush his hand and he glanced over, sensing Tech’s subtle question in the way his pinky laced tentatively with his own, even as he faced towards the temporarily forgotten firework setup.
Echo smiled warmly and grabbed onto the genius’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze which was returned in kind before they came to rest on top of Crosshair’s chest. There were a few beats of silence before Tech cleared his throat, drawing the batches attention to him.
“I believe there is still a firework to set off, unless I am mistaken and we are no longer going to be partaking in it,” He sniffed, adjusting his goggles once more.
It was, of course, Wrecker who responded first, “We are! Here, this is the detonator,” He jut out his hand towards the technician, who took the device calmly with a nod.
“If we explode, I’m going to haunt you,” Crosshair murmured with a swift kick to Wrecker’s foot. The larger of the two just laughed, smooshing the sharpshooter's face with his hand. Echo cut in before it could go any further.
“If you’re going to fight, do it away from me,” He got twin kicks to his metal shins in response, but the snickers that followed took away any heat behind the action.
Hunter shifted to get more comfortable, “If everyone explodes, there would be no one left to haunt, Cross.”
The sniper huffed, a sharp defiant glint briefly lighting up his gaze, “I’d find a way.”
Echo shook his head fondly, blowing a silver curl away from tickling his cheek. As their banter subsided, Tech took that as his que to use the detonator. He gave a brief countdown, letting anticipation build, before pressing the glowing red button and setting the makeshift fireworks off.
At first it really sounded like it was just going to blow in the hole it was placed in, which began to worry Echo the more the seconds passed by. But soon enough, a pop was heard and out shot a streak of light. It whistled into the dark abyss of the sky above, going silent for the barest of moments before exploding into a burst of color.
The ARC trooper didn’t know where Wrecker managed to get the components from, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that thought. He watched as the device fired over and over, lighting up the sky by alternating between three colors. It wasn’t anything as grand or diverse as the firework show they had seen before, but it was theirs and that made it so much more special than any professional show they could go to.
Wrecker whooped at the display, Hunter chuckling at his brother's excitement, Crosshair letting out his own impressed hums no matter how hard he tried to seem uninterested, and Tech idly brushed his thumb over Echo’s knuckles as he watched on in peaceful silence.
Surrounded by the batch that radiated varying levels of contentment, Echo let himself ponder for a moment. He had been so worried when they’d arrived, having not been used to the destination, not knowing what they were even going to do on the planet. The things he would do on leave was something he knew like the back of his hand when he was a part of the 501st. It was almost routine.
He’d meander down to 79’s with his brothers by his side. They’d drink enough alcohol that the hangover in the morning would be crippling, and they’d do it all again the next night and the next until they were shipped off, only to repeat the process the next time they had leave.
Those times were great, he wasn’t going to lie and say that a part of him didn’t miss them, but now when he thought of going on leave he didn’t immediately picture a cramped bar and too many strobing lights that if he went now he’d surely get a migraine. Now he thought about green fields and white flowers, of brothers held close while laying together in a heap, all being lit up by fireworks in the sky.
So no, it wasn’t like the nights he spent at 79’s with the 501st. But it didn’t have to be. It took some time, maybe longer than it should have, but he finally realized what had been so obvious when he was introduced to the Bad Batch. It naturally clicked into place as he rested in a patch of abused flowers, sandwiched between the members of Clone Force 99.
His head cradled against Hunter’s shoulder, carefully avoiding his cybernetic implants, as Hunter used his scomp arm as a pillow. How that was comfortable was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to say anything. His hand was grasped loosely in Tech’s as it rested on Crosshair’s chest, steadily rising and falling with every breath. With Wrecker laying on top of them all like one large, all encompassing weighted blanket, Echo could think clearly. Right here, right now, with fireworks painting the darkened sky with bursts of color and fizzling sparks, he knew without a doubt in his mind that he was where he was meant to be. He was home.