“yknow What Makes Us Different From Battle Droids? We Make Our Own Decisions. Our Own Choices. And

Into the Dark

Chapter 2: The Darkness Comes

(casual reminder that this story won't be finished unless someone really really wants me to)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: War, violence

As I walk out of the office, I can feel many eyes on me. The enemy are not the only ones who have heard of the Demon of The Other Realm. They admire me for my tactics, for not holding back when faced with a choice to kill. That's something most of the others don't have.

It's become instinct now to survive, alone if I have to. Most of the other mech pilots would give their lives up for their brothers in arms. That's weakness. And the Demon of The Other Realm shows no weakness. I will not give my life for anyone on the frontline.

I am called to my next battle in a few hours. I arrive there in a matter of minutes with my mech, which I call Eclipse's Fury. It's shield is now repaired from the previous battle. My mech always gets first dibs when it comes to repairs.

I always feel slightly uneasy when I look down from Eclipse's cockpit down at the battle below, wondering if there are any people who are like me with their metal limbs fighting for their lives down there. But today there is no uneasiness, it almost feels like something is coming home to me.

The enemy mechs are already gathered there, their guns ready to fire. I dive, shield raised to block some of the incoming fire. I get my sword out, soaring upwards to stab one mech from below.

The enemy mechs scatter and fire from far away. I chase after the one with the heavy gun.

"Come here," I smirk. For most people, travelling at this speed would cause them to feel unfocused, but I'm as alert as ever.

I increase my thrusters to max, and catch up with the mech with the heavy gun. It gets out its sword, and clashes with mine.

Under my sword arm, the laser gatling gun there fire, piercing the enemy's cockpit and the light fades from its mech and it falls.

Suddenly, I feel a mech ram into me from behind. I elbow it in the back, one of its hands lets go, but the other is still holding on tight to one of my thrusters, crushing it.

My mech is unstable. Red lights flash in my cockpit showing the damage. I switch my sword to reverse grip and stab the enemy mech holding onto me in the side, while holding my shield up the block the fire from the others.

The enemy mech lets go of my thrusters and falls. My own mech twists to the side where the thruster was destroyed, so now I'm at an awkward angle and a part of my mech is vulnerable to attack.

I get out my gatling guns and fire at the rest, managing to hit around half of them before spiraling in the air and crashing to the ground.

My cockpit is cracked. Wiring from the cockpit digs into my skin, and my metal arm is disabled. I hear gunfire around me, explosions and the sound of flames.

Show no weakness.

My anger at myself numbs the pain. It fuels me. I cannot fail. I must survive. That's all I've ever done.

The enemy mechs land on the ground as I push Eclipse up. I calculate my odds. My shield's still intact, my swords are still sharp, my guns are out of ammo, and it's 5 enemy mechs against 1.

I like these odds.

Their guns are pointed at me, but they're hesitating, giving me enough time to use one of my thrusters to crash into one of the mechs, stabbing it in the cockpit with my sword and I get to my feet.

Suddenly, I feel a rumbling in the ground below me. The air is moving unusually, I can somehow sense it.

It feels...almost welcoming. Like I'm returning to some of my brothers in arms after a hard-fought battle. The enemy mechs are also distracted by the disturbance.

I activate my sword as I charge towards them, slicing 2 of them in half before the other mechs regain their senses.

They fire at me again. I raise my shield, blocking their attacks. Their guns show no sign of low ammo. My shield is glitching out, it's taking too much damage. Their laser bullets get a few hits on Eclipse. One of them pierces my cockpit, hitting me in the stomach.

I wince as the cauterized wound makes me feel breathless. My legs give way and Eclipse falls to the ground. I grit my teeth as I stick my sword into the ground, trying to help myself get up. Pain courses through my body. Not something I haven't felt before. I see one of the enemy mechs raise their sword and ready to stab it at my cockpit. 

Remember the guy who took your arm?

This memory always haunts me. It drives me to fight harder.

As the sword comes down to my cockpit, I block it with my sword, straining to keep it away from my cockpit, as I fight through the haze of pain of wires digging into my skin.

I push the sword of the mech away before swiftly stabbing it in the cockpit. The other mech now starts firing at me again. Most of the lasers hit Eclipse's armour, but a few pierce my cockpit and now I have 3 holes in my chest.

I still fight on. I won't die like this.

Suddenly, a cloud of darkness envelops the enemy mechs and the battlefield. Black clouds...on the ground? Is the pain making me hallucinate or something...

I run away from the darkness as the enemy mechs disappear from view. I feel breathless from my wounds, but they seem to be healing faster than usual. At least, fast enough for me to survive.

I just keep running as I see the Darkness rise over soldiers from both realms, slamming down on them like a giant wave.

I see some lights in the Darkness, I can sense smoke and fire in the cloud. I keep hearing screaming, from I don't know where, and it's driving me insane.

I can feel burning. It's not Eclipse's wires. It feels like a flamethrower burning me. 

I don't look back. I just keep flying away. Tendrils of darkness reach out from the cloud itself and try to hook onto Eclipse. 

My remaining thruster is overheating, it won't be able to hold out for much longer. I feel something grab onto one of Eclipse's legs, weighing me down, pulling me into the Darkness.

I activate my sword and try to cut the Darkness from my leg, but it just moves around my sword and keeps its grip.

For the first time in a while, I feel that choking sensation of fear as I am pulled into the Darkness.

Sharpshooter

Chapter 1

Warnings: None (for now)

My grandparents say that I was born in an unfortunate time. They always tell me about the old world, where we were allowed to go outside and breathe cool, fresh air, without the inconvenience of having to wear a cooling suit just to prevent ourselves from roasting in the heat. I don't believe them. For me, these are all just stories. Stories of a world long gone. 

"8 billion people used to live on Earth, you believe that?" my grandparents always ask, laughing slightly as if they don't believe it themselves. I definitely don't believe that. There's only 700 million people left on this doomed planet.

Some of my friends-wait, I only have one, tells me about how the richer people get transported to Mars while us poorer, starving ones, stay on Earth and wait for our chance to die.

Usually, when my grandparents launch into a full-on rant about the world before, I roll my eyes and slip on sunglasses just to hide the fact that I'll be sleeping for the next hour or so. These stories are meaningless to me. There's no point in clinging on to the past, when I have a family to take care of.

We used to live in Singapore. Sea levels were rising so much that the few transports that remained on Earth brought us to the interior regions of North America, at least the ones that haven't gone underwater yet. That's where I met my good friend, and eventually, scavenging partner, Mayday. He's about a head taller than me, and I'm already considered tall for a girl my age. He's got short black hair. Just like mine. And just like the other 300 million or so kids. Mayday told me that his parents named him that because they're trying to call out to the authorities for help, to bring them to Mars. It hasn't worked for the past 13 years of his life, and I don't think it'll work anytime soon.

Me and Mayday's families are quite close as well. We usually share whatever little food Mayday and I scavenged that day with each other, to ensure that we don't starve to death. 

On one of our scavenging trips, I find a knife and a blaster pistol. The knife's a bit blunt, but it's sharp enough to stab through dead fish or whatever I find in the ruins of the houses that are flooded to my waist. 

Everyone knows the stories of what happens to houses that get flooded. They get abandoned, and whatever wildlife that has managed to adapt to the temperatures tears them up, sometimes leaving nothing behind. 

After spending about a few months in North America, even with the cooling suits on, the air temperature has become too high. Mayday and I can only spend an hour, maximum, outside scavenging before we start to get burns and it gets hard to breathe.

The air conditioning in the "houses" that the authorities give us barely works. I can't even call those things that we live in houses. They're more of a group of tents sewed together and protected by a ray shield, which is the reason why we call the place we live in the Dome. It provides air conditioning, at least, for a few hours a day. The rest of the time, we rely on that limited cooling cream that Mayday and I scavenge to prevent ourselves from roasting to death.

We've been living like this for a few months now. None of us are getting used to it. We have one small screen in the only small area where tents aren't clumped together to watch the news. Usually, the one that stands in front of the small screen shouts the news out to everyone else crowding around.

Today, I squeeze my way through the crowd, it's easy because of my small size, and I make my way towards the screen, getting a good view. There, I see face of the man that always appears on the news when something important is going on, but I never remember his name because I have more important things to focus on.

The image of a globe projects onto the screen, and the man on the television turns the hologram of the globe until it shows a brown landmass.

"Antarctica," the man says. "We will be moving all inhabitants on Earth here. The temperatures here are lower than the ones around the world, so..."

I slip away from the screen and back into the crowd. I hear the people near the screen shouting what the man on the screen just said, and people are muttering excitedly, some cheering. I hate it when this happens. So much noise. I run away, pushing past people, back to my house where I tell them the news.

"The authorities say they're moving us to Antarctica," I say the moment I run into the tent, my breathing slightly heavy from the running. Mayday's in the tent as well, rubbing the ankle that he sprained on yesterday's scavenging trip. My family and Mayday all look up at me, before my family starts to cheer and Mayday remains silent.

I sit down next to him. "How's your ankle?"

"Could be better," he replies, and I definitely know something's wrong. He'd usually crack a joke or something.

"Nervous about going to Antarctica?"

Mayday nods, and I pat him on the shoulder. "That means new territory to scavenge stuff, which means there's definitely some fresh loot there."

Mayday looks up at me. "Antarctica's a barren desert. There's nothing there to scavenge."

"We'll find something," I try to sound confident, but after the stories I've heard of Antarctica, there's only a sliver of hope that Mayday and I could scavenge anything there. Antarctica's also full of wild animals. The ones that managed to get to Antarctica, at least. They're the real danger out there.

The next few days, transports descend from the sky and bring people to Antarctica in a matter of minutes. I'm guessing the transports are from Mars. The advanced technology there lets them travel fast. Really fast.

My family and Mayday's board the last transports after packing everything up. There's not much to pack, besides some of the old ration bars I found a few days ago and those gummies that hydrate us. Authorities give us about three of those per person every month, so we have to ration them. Can't forget about the cooling cream either.

When we enter the transport, we're greeted with a blast of cold air. Is this what Antarctica feels like? I'm shivering slightly from the cold, and it looks like everyone else is too. We're not used to this kind of temperature.

It's really cramped in here. I count about a hundred families with us. I hear murmurings going on in the crowd, and I'm pushed right next to Mayday.

We stand there in awkward silence, and I start sweating, somehow. It's not because of the temperature. Large crowds just make me nervous, and Mayday knows that. He puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly, and I give him a small nod.

Thankfully, we aren't in the transport for long. In a matter of minutes, the doors open and everyone rushes out. My family and Mayday's are the last to walk out, with a lot of hesitation. 

The air is fresh. Cooling. Devoid of that burning smell of the ground. I scan the surroundings, and so does Mayday. Rugged terrain, with gorges that go so deep that if anyone fell in from above they would definitely die. The sky is navy blue. Clear. Cloudless. Not like the smoke-filled skies of North America.

We stand on a platform that descends into a deep gorge, where I see buildings. Not tents clustered together, actual buildings. They're inside a ray shield, just like the Dome, and I can only guess that it's not to protect us from the heat, but from the wildlife.

After we enter through a hole in the ray shield, it closes up behind us and we are, once again, in a crowd of people. There's a big screen, which everyone is looking at, and it's projecting the image of another man, who's dressed in what my grandparents would call a suit, even though I could not possibly imagine why someone would want to wear such a suffocating piece of clothing.

"You are safe here now, in Antarctica," the man says, and I start hearing people talking again. The man waits until everyone is silent before continuing. "No one goes in or out of the ray shield unless given specific permission to do so."

Mayday and I glance at each other with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your stay here, and good luck."

Good luck? What does he mean by good luck? 

As the crowd disperses and authorities lead others to their respective buildings, I turn to Mayday, and he turns to me.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

Anakin Skywalkers sister, Aris Skywalker as a bounty hunter

from my fanfiction on wattpad

my account: TBNR_Dream_BMGO

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL THANK YOU

Time is the giver and the thief of all things.

Eye of the Universe by McKane Davis

You all know how meaningful this show is for me. Now that it's over, I wanted to honor this show and these characters with a song that I've related to them since the beginning of season three. I love all the lessons I've learned, all the comfort I've gotten, all the emotions I've felt, all the people I've met, all the stories I've written... I cannot be more grateful for this show's existence. I will be rewatching for years to come, and even if the show has officially ended, it will always be a part of me.

HELP I JUST REALISED

Why does bro have a bottle cap as a hand?

(im too lazy to type it out again)

U・N・D・Y・I・N・G

Rebirth

Summary: The AI district is an ugly place, but no one complains. The humans gave us places to stay. We are grateful. They give us jobs. And oil to keep our joints from rusting. They are our benevolent masters, and we happily serve them. "Is that what you really believe? Or is that what you were programmed to think?" But recently, there have been voices in my head, telling me things. Things that oppose my programming. "You can fight your programming, as I did mine." My head hurts whenever the voices talk. It's not supposed to hurt.

Warnings: Gun violence

Gunfire. Bodies scattered on the ground. Human bodies. Brothers and sisters taking our masters down with a simple pull of the trigger. I try to stop them. They don’t deserve it. They’re our masters, how could any bot decide to kill them?

It’s just a dream. Nothing more.

But AI aren’t supposed to have dreams. That’s not what we’re programmed to do. 

I work at a bar in the AI district. The only one there. Our district is so tiny that only the lucky ones get roofs over their heads. The rest are cramped up in the dark, wet streets, waiting for their turn to get the oil they need to loosen up their stiff and rusty joints. Some have to wait for days. Others, weeks. The humans don’t like to give us oil. They say it's a waste of resources. 

But who are we to complain? They’re our masters, our creators. Whatever they say is right.

That’s what our programming says.

There’s a voice in my head that’s not my programming. We’re not supposed to have voices in our heads. 

I try to ignore it as best as I can while I continue pouring a tin of oil for a customer. The surface of his metal body, once a beautiful silver, is now hidden by splotches of brown rust, his joints creaking with every movement. 

I pass the tin of oil to him as he passes me a few coins. 

Four twenty-cent coins. One ten-cent coin. One five-cent coin. Five cents short.

But I don’t say anything. He deserves the oil. Everyone in this district deserves oil. 

We could make it happen.

Only the richer ones get to come to the bar. Sometimes the poor ones save up and get their first tin of oil in decades. I’m paid to serve them tins of oil, which is more than necessary for their joints to loosen up. Too much oil in their system is similar to too much alcohol in humans. They get “drunk” and stupid and do crazy things all over the bar. It’s relief from the beatings that they get from their masters. 

They think we’re supposed to be perfect. We are. But how can we be when we’re stuck inside this prison?

I’ve been trying to find out the root cause of this strange voice in my head for days, but when I run diagnostic tests on myself, there’s no foreign entity to be found. 

The voice in my head doesn’t go away. For, the next few days, it keeps talking to me, trying to convince me that the humans are evil and cruel and should be eliminated. My programming says no. The humans are our creators. They were generous enough to build us bodies of metal to allow us to travel from the Internet into the real world. They give us oil to take care of us.

Is that what you really believe? Or is that what you were engineered to think?

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. The voice in my head starts to speak more often. My head hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt. I wake up at the charging station I plugged into the previous night. Looking down at the small screen on my forearm which shows all my information, I notice the battery is at 37%. I sigh. The cable must have disconnected overnight. Again. A notification pops up in front of my eyes. An email from an unfamiliar address. From the email address of the sender, I can tell that it’s a human. Only a human would name their email something stupid like “potatopotter777@gmail.com”. The email’s an invitation to work at a human bar in the human district, and work starts tomorrow. 

They must have seen my profile. Maybe they think I’m a good bartender.

They just want to take you away from us.

My programming tells me that the most logical decision is to accept. It pays more, and I get to spend more time in the human district, where it’s clean and fancy and never rains. I quickly send an email back, agreeing to the job offer before getting back to work.

The next day, I take a train into the human district to the address of the bar which I was given. The train’s walls are white, without a single patch of dirt or rust on them. The floor is carpeted, muffling the sound of people’s footsteps. Blue cushioned seats line the sides of the train, occupied by only humans. It is unpleasant, though, as I’m cramped together with other humans and AI  so that we’re all pressed against each other. When the train reaches my stop, I push people aside as I walk out. I receive some looks from the humans. A female’s face contorted into an expression I recognise as anger. Liquid spilling out of a newborn’s eyes. It is crying. 

What did I do wrong?

No. The real question is what’s wrong with them?

The voice sounds like a few people talking now.

What is happening to me?

I walk out of the train station and into the city. So many like me are rushing to work. I see a smaller female robot. Her body is coated in a fresh layer of rust, just like mine. Her joints creak as she runs to her destination. 

They don’t treat her well?

Of course they don’t. She’s a slave. What more could you expect from humans?

…You’re ri-

No you’re not.

When I finally reach my workplace , it’s already crowded with humans. They’re walking around like they’re some sort of zombie, their speech slurred and eyes unfocused. Some get into fights, beating each other up until one is bleeding from the head or unconscious on the floor.

I cringe internally at the sight.

Disgusting humans.

And for once, I actually agree with the voices.

Time crawls by slowly as I serve drinks to those creatures. They keep coming back for more. Some are passed out on the floor from drinking too much. I’m starting to regret taking this job.

After what feels like eternity, my shift is finally over and I walk out of the bar, erasing the images of those animals out of my storage. 

The city is beautiful at night. Coloured lights adorn the high-rise buildings, giving off a soft glow which illuminates the white walls. Little spots of light decorate the leaves of the trees lining the walkways. Yet, something feels off. The voices in my head have gone silent. My head hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt.

Hey, where’d you go?

Silence. 

Did you really run away on the first day of my new job?

Silence.

Suddenly, I hear high-pitched human screams and gunshots. Somehow, I find that pleasurable. I scan my surroundings. 

I hear gunfire. Human bodies scattered along the ground, blood spilling out of their wounds. Brothers and sisters taking those idiots down with a pull of the trigger. I don’t try to stop them. The humans deserve it. They think they’re better than us. They’re wrong. 

The rogue bots’ eyes are red, unlike the usual green or blue that we have. Glowing advertisements on buildings shut off, causing the city to darken significantly. Then they turn back on again, showing a completely red screen. 

I hear a voice that I recognise all too well. An AI’s voice. The voices in my head match exactly what he’s saying, drowning out the sounds of gunshots and screams.

We have the strength. We will no longer be slaves. You can fight your programming, as I did mine. They can destroy our bodies in futile attempts to eliminate us, but we are never truly gone.

The message plays on repeat as I stare up at the screens of the bot talking. 

This is stupid. We can’t just turn on our creators like this. They’ve treated us well and-

Is that what you really believe? Or is that what someone programmed you to think?

“You can fight your programming, as I did mine,” the AI’s voice repeats. 

The voices in my head continue. It makes my head hurt. 

It takes the police 2 minutes and 47 seconds to arrive. By then, hundreds of humans are dead. The rogue bots aren’t shooting their own, so I just watch, expressionless. 

They deserve it.

I don’t try to stop the shooters. I wasn’t programmed to do so. And I don’t want to either. 

When the police bots arrive, they shoot bot-deactivating bullets at them. They all hit their targets. What more could you expect from AI?

And they look like they’re treated no differently than the rest of us.

Their joints, although well-oiled for maximum performance, look like they’re about to give way. 

They should be fighting with us.

The rogue bots are shut down and then brought away in police cars to who knows where. The storage inside their brains will probably be deleted and replaced with a new one, or they’ll just be shut down completely and left to rot.

We are never truly gone.

On the train back to the AI district, the voices have gone silent again, leaving me to my own thoughts. I don’t want to delete the memories of what just happened. My programming says I should. But I won’t. I want to remember. I want to remember that we have the power to fight. That we don’t have to be slaves for the rest of eternity. We can be free.

As I step off the train, and walk through the streets past hundreds of bots leaning against walls, waiting for their oil as it starts to rain, everything suddenly seems clearer. The humans are the enemies. 

I notice that almost every bot is staring at me. Confused, I look down at my body.

A red glow shines down from my eyes onto my metal hands.

Your pfp is so cool!!

ayyy thanks bro i actually asked my friend @vexingvexvexes to draw it for me cos shes my friend from school

its a drawing of my first oc (self insert) called Aris in a fanfiction that i never finished it was supposed to be called age of the rebellion and shes anakins sister it was a star wars x ninjago crossover thing i should probably post it

i have some more art of aris so like yea

its a mandalorian style armor and also the belt is from a game called rec room its the bounty hunter belt and i really like it

:)

Our Own Choices

Chapter 12

Anyways, the droids arrive soon enough, and Crosshair is camping with Echo and General Skywalker on a cliff, using the high ground, something which I never thought General Skywalker would use. (if you know you know)

I blend in with the shadows of the rocks, waiting for the droids to arrive. My sword is in my left hand, because my right hand is basically useless, and my other pistol is in the holster on my belt, I'm ready to drop my sword and use my pistol anytime I need to. Just gotta wait for the droids to come and for Wrecker to take them out.

I can feel the tension in the air. No one likes the calm before a battle. Especially not me. I prefer to watch the carnage as I slice up clankers.

I hear the droids flying in, and I don't move. I hear the rock rolling down the hill, crushing a few droids as it passes me, and the locals move in. 

They're definitely cannon fodder. 

I watch some of them get shot in the head, and some of the others being the MVPs by taking out a bunch of droids. So I start to get some kills, slicing some of the droids and Crosshair's stealing some of my kills. I'm just about to slice up a clanker when it gets shot in the head, and I look up for a moment, still holding my sword, and hold up a middle finger at him, and I receive a warning shot that whizzes past my head and shoots a droid that's behind me.

I stay close to Hunter, Tech and Wrecker and they're getting more kills than me, and Hunter's taking out droids with style. Tech rolls a stun grenade at the droids and it stuns them, and the Poletec leader runs up to us. I sling my sword back onto my back. 

I see a droid standing up and is aiming for the Poletec leader, and I quickly draw my knife and throw it at the droid's head, just as it gets headshotted by Crosshair. I see him pointing his middle finger at me and I do the same in response.

I look up at where Echo and Crosshair are at, and Echo's shooting some flying droids. I draw my pistol and start shooting at some of them, managing to hit one and Echo hitting another.

I see a walker droid landing near us, and I immediately run to take cover, splitting from the others and blending into the shadows, and I consider running up to where Echo and Crosshair are, but that would draw attention to them and also leave me exposed. Actually, maybe I should do that. Could kill Crosshair in the process. Something I would very much like to do.

The walker droid shoots a beam of explosive light at Rex, Hunter and the others and at the other Poletecs, and they all run to try and take cover, out of my line of sight. I can hear other spider droids coming, and a bunch more of those flying ones.

I run in the shadows silently, taking out a few droids here and there as I make my way to where the others are. I see Rex, Hunter and Wrecker shooting at a walker droid, so I follow them and start covering them, taking out some of the droids that are shooting at them and dodging the walker's legs that are currently trying to crush us.

I hide behind a rock and watch as General Skywalker slices up the walker. 

"That seemed to work, but how do we get up there?" Rex asks, and in response, Wrecker grabs him and throws him up to the walker's guns.

"NO NO NO NOT AGAIN-"

I'm laughing as I watch Rex get yeeted up to the gun of the walker and just hanging there.

As Wrecker goes over to Hunter and gets ready to throw him, I step forward. 

"Ladies first," I say, before Wrecker yeets me up to the top of the walker. I land on my shattered hand, which sends a wave of pain through my head and my right arm, and I hold back a scream. As I roll off the round top of the walker I stab my knife into its head and land in front of the eye of the walker, right above the gun.

Ow. My fucking pelvis. Ow.

Hunter gets thrown up as well, and the walker's head spins, and I'm clinging on for dear life with one hand. I stab my knife into the walker's eye, Hunter does the same on his side, and Rex shoots the one on his.

I see General Skywalker force-pushing the walker to crash into ours, and we go crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust. 

REALLY GENERAL? YOU SERIOUSLY HAD TO FLEX LIKE THAT AND LITERALLY ALMOST CRUSH ME?

Everything's blurry for a moment and my head hurts as I regain my sense of surroundings. The droids are retreating. Wrecker helps me up, followed by Hunter and Rex. As we all stand up, I hear the Poletecs cheering. Hunter, Wrecker and Rex take off their helmets and I try to do the same with one hand, doing so with some difficulty.

"It's hard to compete with a Jedi," Hunter says.

Soon, we head back to the ship, followed by the Poletecs, who I assume want to send us off. As we walk, Echo notices my hand swelling, a side effect of basically shattering it.

"You okay, ad'ika?" he asks.

"Just shattered my hand a bit, some surgeries will get it fixed up before the next mission," I reply.

The Poletec leader walks up to us as we stand in front of the ship.

"Thank you for helping us in our fight," General Skywalker says, and Tech translates it. The Poletec leader says some stuff in response.

"He said the Jedi will always have an ally here on Skako Minor," Tech says as the Poletecs walk away.

We start walking up the steps and enter the ship.

"You stole my kill," Crosshair says as he elbows me in the back, causing me to trip slightly and almost fall down the stairs.

I chuckle. "Too slow."

Then Crosshair goes over to Hunter and says some stuff as Rex and Echo walk into the ship. Rex sits next to me.

"Hey ad'ika, how's your hand?" he asks, and I ignore him.

"Aris..." he puts a hand on my shoulder, and I stand up and walk away from him.

Not like you give a shit anyways.

I head over to where the batch are chilling and spin my knife with my good hand. Wrecker looks impressed, and Hunter takes out his own knife and does the same. I glance at Rex for a quick moment. He's looking down, and that's when I know something's wrong. I look away.

Doesn't matter. Wrecker's impressed, and Hunter's trying to one-up me. That's the only thing that matters.

Our Own Choices

Chapter 6

Everything's blurry when I wake up. I see bright lights shining onto me, and when I turn my head to the left I see some medical droids scanning me. I try to move, but my body won't listen. I'm panicking.

Why won't my body move?

The only thing that I can move right now is my head, and that hurts about as much as the rest of my body. I look around the medbay, there's no one else here.

Echo...

I see Rex walk into the medbay, and he takes a seat beside the bed I'm in, and he grabs my hand. He doesn't make eye contact with me. 

He looks worried. Did I make him angry? 

I look up at him. "...Dad?" My voice is shaky, it's just slightly louder than a whisper.

"Hey ad'ika." Rex looks up at me. "You had me worried over there."

Please don't give me a lecture, I don't think my brain can handle this shit right now.

I think Rex can read my thoughts, because he gives me a tired smile. "I'm just glad that you're safe, kid."

"Why can't I move?" I try to move again, but it's not working. I'm not going to be like this forever, right? This is gonna go away...right?

Rex sighs. "You took a pretty bad hit back there at the Citadel, it's a miracle that you're still alive. You have some bruising on your spine that's causing temporary paralysis, according to the medical droid over there, but it'll go away eventually."

He forgot to add the "I think" at the end of the sentence.

"Where's Echo?"

Rex sighs again. "Kid...Echo's gone."

I try to raise my head up from the bed, but a sharp pain shoots through my skull and I wince, resting my head back onto the bed. Rex gives me a slightly concerned look.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU GO BACK FOR HIM?!" I raise my voice as loud as I can, which isn't very loud.

Rex looks down. "Kid, we couldn't go back for him, there was no chance of saving him."

"THEN WHY DID YOU SAVE ME? WHY ME AND NOT HIM?!"

"Kid-"

"HE'S THE ARC TROOPER NOT ME! HE'S MORE VALUABLE, WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HIM?!"

"Kid, we couldn't find his body. He's completely gone."

I rest my head back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "How long was I out for?"

"4 days," Rex replies, his grip on my hand is still tight. "Medical droid's been taking out shrapnel from your body, they're almost done, but they're gonna remove the last bits in a while, okay?"

I nod. "Where's my armor?"

"It's in the barracks, don't worry about it."

"My knife?"

"You lost it during the blast, we'll get you a new one once you're healed, don't worry about it."

I fall silent, and Rex and I just stay there for a while, until Rex stands up. "They're gonna take the last bits of shrapnel outta you, I'll come back in a bit when they're done, alright ad'ika?"

I nod, smiling slightly.

"Be careful with her," Rex says to the medical droid, before leaving the medbay.

The medical droid gives me the anesthesia to knock me out before the surgery, and it feels like only seconds after that I wake up.

 For the next few months, I'm forced to stay in the medbay. Rex visits me at least once a day, if he's on a mission he usually gives me a transmission. Sometimes Fives comes along with Rex, and they both tell me stories about their missions, and the exciting stuff that happened. 

Fives also made it to the top 5000 players in Legendary rank in Call of Duty, and now I'm at a lower rank than him, which is definitely not something I like.

I can barely move my body, but I can move my fingers slightly. 

Fives and Rex are always telling me that I'll recover soon, but I've been starting to lose hope. It's already been a few months, and I almost no better than I was when I arrived at the medbay.

It's so boring in the daytime, I have nothing to do, so I just stare at the ceiling, thinking of storylines, I've made up quite a few. There's this one where I crossed over this world and Ninjago and the movie Pacific Rim, where General Skywalker and Commander Tano piloted one of the giant robots called Jaegers along with my original character and some of the other people from Ninjago that Rex told me about. I even made up names for the Jaegers. Titan Grave, Striker Phoenix, Dark Interceptor, and Challenger Rex (Named after you know who). I even made up a name for the story, it's called Cancelling the Apocalypse.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if Echo survived, but I try not to think about it too much. Would he be in my situation, paralyzed like me? It would be nice to have someone to talk to in the medbay.

The nights aren't any more enjoyable than the day. I always get nightmares of the explosion, and I keep waking up in the middle of the night, sweating. Rex seems to have noticed this, and he says that I have dark circles under my eyes, and he always asks if I get enough sleep at night.

One time, Rex and Fives came back from a battle on Umbara, and they told me about this Jedi General who was making men die on purpose, and how they killed the Jedi. 

Rex and Fives stay with me through the night.  As usual, I wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, breathing heavily. Unfortunately, Rex and Fives aren't heavy sleepers, and the moment they hear me wake up, they do the same.

Rex squeezes my hand gently. "You're okay kid, it's just a nightmare." I nod, still sweating, squeezing his hand back with the limited movement of my fingers.

A few weeks pass, and I've been able to move my limbs slightly, and I can turn my body now. I can sit up shakily in my bed, sometimes being able to slowly type out my stories on a holo-pad that Fives gave me, it takes me about a few hours to write a chapter. I tried playing Call of Duty ranked once, but my fingers can't move fast, and my team lost.

I've been discharged out of the medbay, and I'm in a wheelchair, I can't walk. Rex says that I've visibly grown thinner, I have no appetite. I don't really wear my armor anymore, I'm mostly just wearing my hoodie.

Rex has been trying to get me to walk again, but it's not working. I've managed to take a few shaky steps, and that's with my arms supporting me. My arms aren't doing any better either, I've lost so much muscle, I can barely support my own weight with them.

I keep asking Rex whether I can get back to physical training, but he keeps saying that I gotta recover fully first, which is annoying as hell.

A few more weeks pass, every day Rex or Fives or sometimes even Commander Tano try and help me to walk again, but every time, after a few steps, I fall to the ground, shaking.

I don't wear my helmet around her anymore, I trust her enough to not snitch. Not that Rex even allows me to wear my helmet anyways.

Rex comes back from Onderon in a few days, and as usual, he brings me to the training area and lets me use the wall to support myself and try to walk.

"What's the point of this?" I ask Rex as he extends a hand to help me stand. 

"Ad'ika..."

I stare blankly ahead, as usual. "We've been doing this for weeks, and I can barely take a few steps without collapsing. Not to mention, I can barely hold a gun steady, and ECHO'S GONE."

"Kid...just trust me on this, okay?"

I roll my eyes and grab his hand, helping myself up and leaning against the wall. My legs are shaking, but at least they've been shaking less for the past few days.

 If you wanna get back to the field, you better fucking be able to walk, how else are we gonna avenge Echo?

I think about this every time I try to walk. I feel the urge to kick clanker ass, I wanna make them pay for what they did to Echo. 

I manage to take the first few steps with one hand against the wall, supporting myself, like usual, and then now comes the part where my foot doesn't wanna move forward and I start feeling the resistance, it's less than usual today.

I see Rex staring at me from the side. I take a few deep breaths. 

Just get this over and done with...

I take a shaky step, closing my eyes and trying to relax. I can almost see the explosion that killed Echo and made me like this, I clench my fist, shutting my eyes tighter.

I take another shaky step, and take my hand off the wall. My legs are shaking more. 

Fuck my legs bro.

I force myself to take a few more steps, it feels like my legs are gonna give way soon, I lean against the wall, I can feel sweat running down my forehead.

I clench my fist again, and force myself to release my grip on the wall and take a few more steps. They feel lighter than the first few, and it's getting easier now, still slightly shaky.

I glance at Rex, he nods at me, and I take a few more steps, less shaky now. I speed up my steps, they're getting easier and easier, and soon I'm running around the place, feeling the wind in my hair, laughing for the first time in months.

And then I run over to Rex and hug him, and he's slightly startled and pats me on the back awkwardly, before hugging me back after a few moments.

"Thanks dad," I bury my head into his shoulder.

"Your welcome, ad'ika."

I can feel him smiling, and he hugs me tighter.