THE CALLBACK TO THE FIRST LINE THEY EVER SAID WHEN THEY APPEARED IN TCW

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.

THEY DIDNT

THEY CANT JUST

THEY CANT JUST CASUALLY BLOW UP THE MARAUDER

U CANT JUST DO THAT

AND CROSSHAIR CONCERNED DAD AND SAYING OMEGA’S NAME

AND OMEGA TRUSTING CROSSHAIR TO TRACK THE SHIP BUT HE COULDNT 😭😭😭

AND THE ASSASSIN SAYING “DOMICILE” CONFIRMS ITS TECH

TODAYS EPISODES HAVE DESTROYED MY SANITY

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."

EPISODE 9 IS OUT AND VENTRESS IS BACK WOOOOO

SHE SAID “ive got a few lives left” IS THAT REFERENCE TO WHEN SHE DIED IN DARK DICIPLE N SHES STILL ALIVE??????

MAN I LOVE VENTRESS SO MUCH AND SHES A BLONDIE NOW??????

You're free to have whatever views you want regarding ships and fictional characters, but can you at least tag your anti-noelle posts as "#anti-noelle"? or "noelle hate" or whatever?

People who are following the Noelle Holiday and Suselle tags are doing so because they like Suselle and Noelle? So these posts are kind of the last thing we want to see on these tags?

Despite my profile pic I'm not here to debate why Suselle and Noelle. I respect your opinion because debating trivial things like "ships" or "if you should hate a fictional character or not," is dumb.

Discourse is dumb. You can hate Noelle as much as you want, but can please at least tag your posts correctly, so people who don't want to see these posts can filter them out?

oh ok sorry i didnt know those tags existed thanks for the telling me :)

Our Own Choices

Chapter 13

When we reach back to the Anaxes base, I go to the medbay and get my hand fixed up. Medical droid replaces the shattered bone inside with metal and my hand's good as new. Echo's doing good as well. He's recovering from what damage he took on Skako Minor. 

So Echo has a plan about getting onto a Separatist Dreadnought and into Trench's comm vault so that he can feed Trench strategies that we already know and let the Republic retake Anaxes. I've been hanging out with the batch for a while, and I actually feel like I fit in with them. I don't get weird looks for being different.

Tech's fixing the ship while I show Hunter and Wrecker how I manage to fit 20 knives into my wrist compartment. Wrecker looks shocked, Hunter raises an eyebrow, looking slightly impressed. Then I see Tech trying to get a piece of metal loose from the engine, and I throw a knife at it, hitting the piece of metal with the hilt of the knife, and the metal piece falls to the ground, along with my knife. I head over to pick up my knife and receive a "That was unnecessary" from Tech. I smirk as I throw my knife up in the air and catch it.

Echo, Rex and General Skywalker come over just as Tech finishes the repairs.

"Tech, is everything ready?" Hunter asks.

"Yep Sarge, we are ready," Tech replies. "Still not sure how we are gonna land on that ship."

"Don't worry, Echo says he's got a plan," Rex says, putting a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"That makes me feel so much better," Tech replies, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"What do you mean by that?" Rex and I ask at the same time, slightly annoyed.

"To be blunt, his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie."

Good point.

"Yea. Well I know. Now get moving," Rex orders.

We walk up the ship, and I'm standing next to Crosshair and Hunter, Tech's piloting, and Wrecker's slightly restless.

"Please tell me we are blowing something up," he says, turning to face us.

"Sorry Wrecker, this is strictly stealth," General Skywalker replies.

I like that word.

Wrecker groans. "I hate that word."

Oh cmon Wrecker I thought we were getting along here

"Echo, you're up," General Skywalker says and Echo plugs his mechanical arm into the scomp link. "As soon as I plug in, I'll send a signal to the command ship."

"What type of signal are you gonna send?" Hunter asks. "Nothing that'll give us away, right?"

"As far as the droids are concerned, we're just gonna be another one of their shuttles coming in for a landing," Echo replies.

"And the regs think we take risks," Hunter says as he and Crosshair give a sideways glance at each other.

We fly for a short while, past some of the Separatist ships stationed above Anaxes.

"Sending the signal...now."

Echo I swear if you give us away I will fucking waterboard you and then carve your eyes out.

"Roger roger, Shuttle TC-159. You may approach and land." A battle droid's voice is heard over throughout the ship.

Wow looks like I don't get to torture Echo today. How sad.

Wait tf is my brain thinking rn stfu brain

Wrecker groans. "I'd still rather blow it up."

"I have a feeling you'll get your chance," Tech says.

Really hope he doesn't.

We fly past the fleet of Separatist ships and up to the Dreadnought, flying under it. The ship turns upside-down, much to my discomfort as I land head-first onto Rex's chest, and we're now on the underside of the Dreadnought.

As I stand up on the ceiling of the ship, rubbing my head, I ask, "Okay so how the fuck are we getting from the damn underside of this thing INTO it?"

The door at the bottom of the ship opens and so does the one in the Dreadnought. The ladder in the floor extends and we climb in.

I ready my pistol and knife, in case there are any clanker patrols nearby. Luckily for us, there aren't any.

I help Echo up and we walk through the corridors cautiously, with General Skywalker leading the front and Crosshair and I guarding our flank, walking backwards, on alert in case any clankers show up.

Echo, Tech , Rex and General Skywalker enter the comm vault, while Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair and I guard the door.

"So uh how's it usually like on missions without us regs?" I ask, not expecting much of a response from Crosshair. 

"Wild," Crosshair says as Hunter walks into the comm vault to check on Echo and the others. I raise an eyebrow at him, although he can't see it from under my helmet.

"Yeah, our last mission was with those Yalbec males, and they tried to eat us after I cut off the queen's stinger," Wrecker says.

"Why? They jealous that you get that Yalbec pussy and they don't?" I ask, smirking slightly.

Wrecker side-eyes Crosshair, and Crosshair replies, "Yea, I guess so."

I grin under my helmet, holding back a laugh, trying to stay focused.

Echo's taking a while, and some clankers have started to come through the corridor. Crosshair goes to take care of some of them and I follow him.

I take cover at the side of the entrance to the corridor, shooting at the B2 super battle droids with my pistol, throwing my knife at one of them and hitting it in the head. There's about 16 of them, and Crosshair gets more kills than me, which sucks.

Wrecker joins us slightly late, and by then we've almost taken out all of them. As I throw another knife at the last one, I wait to see if there are any more droids before running to go pick up my knives. 

Crosshair, Wrecker and I lead the way through the corridors, shooting droids the moment we see them, littering the corridors with bodies of broken battle droids.

Wrecker runs ahead, and when he turns the corner, some battle droids start firing at him, and he takes cover around the corner. Crosshair and I start shooting at the droids in front of us, Rex behind us doing the same, and Hunter and Tech are taking care of the remaining droids at the back.

Then, Wrecker goes to absolutely destroy the battle droids with his bare hands, and I kinda feel bad for them as I look left and right, scanning the area for more droids as I hear the terrified screams of the battle droids and the crashing of metal against the walls.

"It's all clear!" I hear him shout, and we move out from the corner, Rex half-carrying Echo.

No time to ask what happened to Echo, if Rex is carrying him, he shouldn't be dead.

Some more battle droids come from the back, and Tech alerts us to them. "More droids."

"Go. I'll buy you some time," Crosshair says, throwing up a deflector puck in his hands just to look badass, and proceeds to do an epic shot where he just throws it at the battle droid's chest before shooting it in the head, then waiting for the precise moment to fire another shot at the deflector puck which bounces off the ceiling and at all 3 battle droids' heads. 

I just stand there, frozen for a moment before walking off with the others.

"We'll meet you at the infiltration point," Rex tells Crosshair.

Wrecker groans. "He's gonna try and top me. You watch."

"And me," I say in an annoyed tone.

We start half-walking half-running through the corridors, and we reach the infiltration point.

Tech looks through his visor. "I'm picking up dozens of droids on my sensors, all heading this way."

"Hope you're not waiting on me," General Skywalker says as he runs to our position.

Wow I didn't even notice he was gone I think I literally forgot he existed.

"Now all we're missing is Crosshair," Hunter says.

Right on cue, Crosshair comes running through the corridors to our position, throwing deflector pucks literally everywhere, and stops in front of us, turning backwards and aiming his rifle, using his right shoulder to support it.

"You miss me?" 

No.

"How touching."

Then he aims at the deflector puck as the droids come marching through the hallway and he fires.

The blaster bolt deflects off the first puck and then to the second and then to like the next 30, hitting all the droids in the side, and Wrecker and I just stand there gaping at what just became the most badass shot I've ever seen.

"THAT STILL ONLY COUNTS AS ONE!" I protest.

"Relax Wrecker," Hunter says as he nudges Wrecker in the shoulder. "You'll top him next time."

No he won't.

And then Crosshair just comes up to us just to say "No he won't" to Wrecker's face and now I'm trying my best not to laugh again. I'm quite sure Crosshair has the biggest smirk ever under that helmet right now.

Wrecker groans.

We climb down the ladder to get back into the ship and fly off.

"I've got a present for you, Wrecker," General Skywalker hands Wrecker what looks like a detonator with a green button.

"Oh, seriously? I get to blow it up? The whole kriffing thing?" Wrecker sounds excited as he takes the detonator from General Skywalker's hand, and Crosshair and I watch.

"This..." Wrecker wipes a probably happy tear from his eye. "Is the happiest day of my life."

He presses the button and I can hear all the ships behind us going kaboom as we fly back down to Anaxes.

When we land on Anaxes, we get praised by General Windu, and General Kenobi says we've got some medals coming our way.

I take off my helmet.

"Thank you, General," Rex says as he starts to walk off.

As Echo starts to walk away, and batch and I stay behind.

"You coming?" Echo asks.

"Not really our thing," Tech replies.

"Accolades," Crosshair clarifies.

"Yea, we're just in it for the thrill," Wrecker says.

"You sure it's your thing?" Hunter asks, the question directed at both of us.

Echo looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your paths are different," Hunter says. "Just like ours." He motions towards the batch. Echo looks down. "If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us."

I...don't fit in with the 501st. Or any of the other regs. And I think Rex knows that. Echo knows that. 99 did. And so did...

Don't say his name. Don't say his name.

As the batch turn around and walk up to their ship, I'm standing beside Echo as Rex walks up to us. "Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside." He pats Echo on the shoulder. "Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

I glance at Rex. "Does that apply to me?"

Rex sighs. "Yes, ad'ika. It does." He turns around and walks away. 

He's...he's letting me...what-

I thought he would-

Nevermind. Don't worry about that right now.

Echo and I look at each other before walking slowly up to the batch, and I see Rex turning back to look at us. Echo salutes him, and then I do the same, with the batch following.

"Goodbye, ad'ika," he mouths to me.

"Goodbye, buir," I mouth back. He smiles, and so do I. 

And then Echo, the batch and I turn around and walk into their-well now it's our ship, and we fly off.

On the ship, I sit on the floor, making myself comfortable, spinning my knife, scanning the surroundings of our ship. When I finally see the toilet sign, I sigh in relief.

Thank god.

I go into the toilet to take a piss, until I realize that there's something very wrong.

"GUYS WHY IS THERE ONLY A DAMN URINAL IN HERE WHERE'S THE MOTHERFUCKING TOILET BOWL?!" 

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 5

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Hospital, injuries, blood

Everything hurts. The side of my face. My left eye.

It stings.

The knives digging into the side of my face, warm red liquid pouring out. My hand instinctively reaching for my knife, finding nothing.

I wake up with a gasp. Everything around me's white, it's so vibrant that it's almost blinding. I squint a little to calm the throbbing in my head. Still can't see anything out of my left eye. My hand moves to the side of my face, only to feel 3 deep gashes there. They're not bleeding anymore.

How long have I been out for?

Soldiers. Pointing guns at my head. Handcuffs clicking. Dragging someone away.

Mayday.

I scan my surroundings as the vision in my right eye starts to clear, and I can see weird machines around me. A tube is connected to my arm, the other end of the tube connected to a bag of clear liquid which I assume is water.

"Hello?" I call out, the hesitation in my voice is evident. A metal thing which I can only assume is a droid floats over and does some scans on me.

"Your vitals are stable and your wounds have healed, " the droid says.

I roll over to the side of the bed, using my arms to push myself up into a sitting position. My hand instinctively moves to the side of my face again as I try to stand up, my legs shaking slightly as my other hand moves to the side of my head to support myself. The droid just floats on my left, observing my efforts to walk out of the blinding white room, expressionless, but saying, "Hey! Wait! You're not discharged yet!" I ignore it.

I put my hand on the walls to support myself, staggering through the empty hallways and through the glowing blue door which opens up when I get near it, into what I expect to be the cool Antarctic air. Instead I'm met with a warm blast of air to my face as something whizzes past me, moving too fast for me to make out what it is. I stumble backwards, into the white wall. I look upwards, there's a sign saying "Antarctic Hospital" on top.

Sounds come from all directions, flooding my senses with images of a busy street, crowds, people brisk-walking across roads to rush to work, cars honking at each other as they wait impatiently for traffic lights to turn green.

Great. The exact place where I didn't want to be.

The hand on the side of my face moves to my temple, where it feels like fingers are knocking against it, just like how I tap the hilt of my knife when I'm bored.

Mayday.

I scan the surroundings for any visible signs to show directions on where my apartment is. From the sounds around me, I assume I'm in the central area of the city. Which means the big screen should be near.

I break into a run, my steps light although the legs under me feel like lead, following the direction of the pavements until I reach a large area devoid of buildings, and people. Which also means not much noise. I sit down in the clearing, and then rest my back against the floor so that I'm looking up at the black sky, the moon behind me. A sense of calm comes over me and my eyelids feel heavy, threatening to close again.

Got to find my house.

I decide to lie down in the clearing, just staring up at the sky for a bit longer. The vision in my left eye starts to clear up, and I find myself staring at information that's displayed in front of me. My heart rate, different commands like "show heat signatures" and "zoom in", are all in front of my eyes. The words are a light blue, contrasting against the dark night sky.

What the hell do these things do? What did they do to my eyes? What the fuck does "show heat signatures" mean?

As if on cue, the black sky turns blue, and the lights from the buildings at the corner of my eye turn red. Thermal vision. That's...actually not bad.

Switch back to normal vision.

My eye complies. The vision in my cybernetic eye is no better than that in my regular one. Standing up, I look for any sign of the big screen that's always so obvious from anywhere in the city.

Just buildings. They block my view. I gotta get up to higher ground to find the screen. From there I could possibly try to find my way home.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, whipping around as my fists clench, ready to give my attacker a punch to the face.

"Aris."

My vision is still slightly distorted from whatever the people in the hospital did to me, but I can recognize the voice, no matter how tired it sounds.

"M-Mayday?"

He nods, and I follow behind him as he walks away, giving me that small nod which I take as a "Come on. We're going home".

As we walk, I notice that the back of his black hoodie is darker in color than the sleeves. That's not right.

"Mayday?" I ask, my voice coming out softer than expected, and cracking slightly. It's only now that I notice that my throat is dry. Drier than the trees back home. I cough a little, and Mayday hands me one of those water packets. I nod, signaling a "thanks" as I take the water packet and put it in my mouth, biting down and letting the cold, sweet, refreshing liquid calm my senses and wet my throat as I swallow the water and spit out the packet.

My attention goes back to the back of Mayday's hoodie. I put my hand there, feeling Mayday flinch from the touch. I smirk. "Now you know how it feels."

"Don't. Touch. It," Mayday says through gritted teeth. I laugh slightly and remove my hand, only to see my hand stained crimson.

Blood.

I look up at Mayday again, who keeps walking, expressionless.

"What happened?" I asked, the concern in my voice obvious.

"It's fine," Mayday replies, staring forwards, still walking.

"You're bleeding. It's soaked through your hoodie. You're not fine. If you lose too much blood-"

"I said I'm fine," Mayday snaps, and I inhale sharply, surprised by the sudden annoyed tone in his voice.

He's not usually like this. Something's wrong.

We walk for a few more hours through the city, the streets slowly getting quieter and quieter as we reach the outskirts. We stay silent. I occasionally glance at him, but he doesn't return the gesture.

We reach my apartment. Mayday heads into his and shuts the door behind him. I stand there staring at the door for a few moments before heading into my own apartment. The door's unlocked. There's no one inside.

I call out my grandparents' names, they should be here, my parents are probably at work. I don't get a reply. I stare around the empty room, calling out my grandparents' names again, and get the same result. Nothing.

There's an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I head out of my apartment and to Mayday's, knocking on the door. Mayday opens the door, his face showing the slightest hint of excitement, before it returns to its expressionless stare.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice monotone. I look behind him and his apartment's empty as well.

Something's definitely not right.

"Have you seen my grandparents anywhere?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"They went with my family to the central area, interrogations and stuff," Mayday says casually.

"What?! Why?!"

Mayday shrugs, but then winces slightly, which I notice. "About us going through the ray shield and stuff, breaking rules."

I look behind him again and see blood on the floor.

"You're not okay. I'm gonna go get bandages from my house and patch you up."

"I said I'm fine!" Mayday protests, but I've already run into my house to find some bandages, coming out a few moments later carrying a roll of the white gauze.

Mayday's eyes widen. "How did you get that?"

I shrug. "Just found it in my parents' drawer."

I head into Mayday's apartment and sit on the floor, motioning for him to come sit next to me. He does so, glaring at me every now and then. I know he's bleeding from the back.

"Take off your hoodie and your shirt," I say, an authoritative tone in my voice.

"Are you serious right now, Aris?"

"Yes. Now do it."

Mayday sighs and takes off his hoodie, and then his shirt. I look away, for obvious reasons.

"You can look now."

I look back at Mayday, who has his back facing me. I can see 5 deep gashes across his back, starting from his shoulder. Blood oozes out from the wounds, dripping down onto the floor.

"Holy shit. What happened?" I ask as I start putting the gauze across his back, passing it in front of his chest and then back to his back, tightening it slightly.

Mayday winces, but still stares forwards, remaining silent.

I finish patching up his back, the blood almost instantly soaking through the gauze.

"Done."

Mayday just sits there for a while, staring into space, not bothering to put his shirt back on.

"They arrested me after I brought you back in," Mayday says, his voice quiet. "They whipped me. But I handled it fine."

I sit down next to him. "I'm sorry."

Mayday glances at me. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault."

"Why haven't you been sent to the hospital? The bleeding's pretty bad, it's almost as bad as mine?" I ask.

"You seriously thought that they would give medical attention to a criminal?"

"They gave it to me."

"Because they don't think you're one."

I stare at Mayday, not expecting him to elaborate but still wondering what he means.

We sit there in silence for a bit and Mayday puts his bloodstained shirt back on.

"How's your face?" Mayday suddenly asks, and my hand instinctively moves to the 3 slice marks on my face, and to my left eye. A look of concern flashes over his face. "The medical droid said they replaced your eye with a cybernetic one, but it might take time to adjust."

I nod, staring out the door. "I know. So what do we do now?"

"I don't know. We just have to...hope for the best, I guess."

"We'll figure it out. Like we always do."

Our Own Choices

Chapter 9

"So how'd you know I was on that gunship? I was specifically extra stealthy that time," I ask Rex as we jump off the vehicle that Crosshair was driving as we arrive back at the base. I put on my helmet. 

"You've done it 19 times, kid. I know when you've clipped yourself to the outside of the gunship just by the sound of it," Rex replies, not bothering to look at me. He's not even bothering to scold me for coming here without his permission. I think he's just tired of me, he does have a job to do as a captain as well.

But why should I listen to him anymore? Even though he's technically my superior in the GAR, I don't need him anymore. I'm biologically 20, I can handle myself. But clearly he doesn't think so, considering how he usually doesn't let me on missions anyways. He says the reason that he grounded me was because he didn't want me getting myself killed out in the battlefield because of my impulsiveness.

"But there was no sound-" I protest as the bad batch walk past me, and I stare at them as they walk to their ship.

They're really cool. They don't fit in here, just like me.

Rex nudges me in the side, I take it as a sign to go to the ship as well. Rex says he talked to General Skywalker and he says that he'll have to wait for the council to approve of the mission to Skako Minor to get Echo. I'm surprised that he lets me come along on this mission. I guess he knows that there's no stopping me when it comes to saving my brothers.

As I head into the ship, I receive looks from the batch. 

"What?" I ask.

Tech looks back to his datapad, Wrecker goes to lift the gonk droid in the back of the ship, Hunter just sits there staring at me, and Crosshair is checking his rifle. I take off my helmet and lean against a wall, staring at Wrecker and the poor gonk droid, and then to toothpick boi.

Gotta admit, their armor is really cool. Crosshair's got that belt thingy with a bunch of places to store ammo, almost like my own. And then he's got that bar thingy on his left shoulder armor, probably for his rifle or something. Hunter has a random bandana for the dog shit on his head, with a small skull on it. Wrecker's helmet would scare the absolute shit outta me if I saw that first thing in the morning. Tech's helmet is cool, at least it hides his receding hairline. Whatever.  At least now I'm not the only one with dark-colored armor. 

Anyways, Rex and General Skywalker board the ship soon enough and we set off for Skako Minor. Tech's flying the ship, while General Skywalker checks out Crosshair's rifle and Wrecker's still lifting poor Gonky.

"So, how many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?" General Skywalker asks Shithair as he passes Crosshair's rifle back to him.

"Honestly sir, I've lost count. All the action sorta blurs together," Hunter replies, and that felt like a big "skill issue lmao" smack in the face.

"I know you work with Cody sometimes, but who do you guys report to?" Rex asks.

"Hm, good question," Hunter says, crossing his arms. "Can't say I've got an answer." 

And then I'm reminded of that "good question" Shrek meme that I saw on the holonet a few days before I came to Anaxes, and I try to keep a straight face.

Wrecker, who's still lifting Gonky, chews on a big ass chicken drumstick which I think was kept in the ship's storage area for days. Then, the ship suddenly shakes.

"We are approaching Skako Minor," Tech reports. "It looks to be a difficult landing."

So we strap in and Wrecker gently sets Gonky down, before going to the co-pilot's seat with Tech. The ship shakes a bit until we land on the ground, and we stand up and head towards Tech and Wrecker.

"Rex, what do we know about this place?" General Skywalker asks, Rex standing next to him. Toothpick boi and I stand behind them as I play with my knife, because I'm just kinda bored and need something to do with my hands.

"On this part of Skako, there's a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is they're very primitive," Rex replies.

"Primitive is being kind," Tech says. "My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles."

Suddenly, one of those flying reptile thingies land on the front window of the ship, cracking it slightly. I look out, sheathing my knife into my wrist compartment.

"Oh! What the heck was that?" Wrecker looks out the same time as I do. "It's one of those reptiles," Tech says.

"I want that thing off my ship," Hunter says, sounding really annoyed, before moving to get off the ship.

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't just run out there," Rex tries to warn them but we all run out anyways because which one of us even follows orders?

We see the Poletec and a flying reptile thing jumping on the ship. General Skywalker ignites his lightsaber and Wrecker points his blaster at it, and I'm tempted to do the same.

"Hey! Get off of there!" Wrecker shouts.

"Hey, calm down. We needa talk to them," General Skywalker says.

"Why?" Hunter asks.

"The General's right," Rex says, and then I hear some more flying reptiles in the distance, and I spin around to look at them, blaster and sword drawn. General Skywalker pushes Rex out of the way so that Rex doesn't get clawed to death by the reptiles. We all point our blasters towards them, unsure of whether to shoot or not.

Suddenly, the flying reptile and the Poletec on the ship swoop down and grab General Skywalker. He's caught off guard, dropping his lightsaber, and I throw my knife at the reptile before it can get too far away. It hits the reptile in the chest, but not deep enough to be a lethal shot, although I can hear it screeching as it flies away. Rex fires his pistol at the reptile but none of the shots hit.

"I have a thermal reading," Tech says. "Point two five east, elevation 175." His visor is lowered.

"Relax. I'll handle this," Crosshair says, before attaching a grappling hook to his rifle and using Tech's shoulder as support (we'll never get to see this again this is so sad), shooting it at the reptile. It hits and Hunter attaches the cable to himself.

"What are you doing?" Rex asks.

"Going for a ride." And then Hunter's lifted off his feet, flying into the air.

I just stare at Crosshair, eyes widened. Holy shit that was fucking cool. Bro really has to be so pro at sniping.

And then I think of my own sniping skills which are slightly decent at best and suddenly I'm filled with a slight jealousy of his skills. Like bro he gets to be badass and do all those fucking trick shots and I'm stuck here throwing knives.

Shut up.

"Tech, I'm with the General. Hone in on my signal," I hear Hunter say through the comms. Tech and the rest of us head back to the ship and do so, before heading to Hunter's location. We land on a ridge near what looks like the Poletec village and run down to Hunter, who's near the edge, looking across at the village.

"That creature still has a hold of the General," Hunter says.

Rex zooms in on the village, and I do the same, seeing the General getting pinned under one of those reptiles' claws. "We're going in, but remember what the General said. No casualties, disarm only," Rex says.

"We're on it, Captain," Hunter says. "Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide."

The rest of us slide down the ridge to the village as Wrecker and Crosshair push a really big rock down the ridge, and we run behind it as it knocks down some tall but not-so-advanced structures, using the dust as cover.

We shoot at the weapons that the Poletecs are holding, disarming them. I throw a few knives at their weapons, they all hit their target and disarm them. 

We run to the place where General Skywalker is, and I see some electrified thing hit the claw that's holding General Skywalker, probably shot by Crosshair, and the reptile jumps back, letting General Skywalker dodge the rock that's rolling towards him. We all point our blasters at the Poletecs in case they try to do anything. 

The Poletec that Hunter's pointing his blaster at speaks some alien language, and Hunter asks Tech to translate what he's saying.

Tech steps forward, presses a few buttons on that control panel on his wrist, and moves his visor down above his eyes. "He says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader."

The rest of us still point our blasters at the Poletecs. 

Can we just hold them at gun/knifepoint and just get them to give us whatever info we want?

"We didn't bring the war here. It was Wat Tambor and the Separatists," General Skywalker says.

Tech translates what General Skywalker said into the alien language, something that both Crosshair and I find kinda funny as I'm tryna hold in my laughter as we all lower our blasters. Definitely gotta roast Tech for that.

"Tell him we apologize for what's happened," Rex says. "But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll.  As soon as we rescue him, we'll leave his planet for good."

Tech translates what Rex said into the alien language again, and I try my best to keep a straight face. This is just too funny. 

As Tech and the Poletecs talk some more and agree about sending scouts and stuff to help find the city, I run to the reptile that I threw my knife into and rip it out. It's wedged kinda deep in there, and when I pull it out, it's covered in red blood, dripping onto the floor. The reptile screeches and tries to attack me, but I shoot it with a stun blaster a few times and it's knocked out. The other Poletecs move to attack me, but then Rex and Tech help to calm them all down.

"Woah woah woah, calm down, she's just tryna get her weapons, no need to panic," Rex says, and Tech helps translate it. The other Poletecs calm down when what I think is their leader nods at them.

I pull my other knives out from the weapons that I threw them at and head back to the others.

"Nice going," Crosshair knocks his shoulder into mine as we set off with the other scouts, the sarcasm in his voice is obvious. I cross my arms as I follow behind him. "Thanks."

We follow the scouts quite a bit of distance and find ourselves on a really high cliff. The Poletec scouts point at what looks like Purkoll in the distance before walking down the direction we just came up in.

"Hope nobody's scared of heights," General Skywalker says. I try not to let it show, although sometimes heights get on my nerves.

Hunter and Crosshair look at Wrecker.

"Well I'm not scared of nothing. I just...When I'm up real high, I got a problem with gravity," Wrecker says.

"That's being scared of heights, Wrecker. You're real smart," I roll my eyes under my helmet, standing next to Rex.

"Speaking of problems," Tech, who's standing behind Wrecker, speaks up. "I am no longer picking up Echo's signal."

"I...I don't understand," Rex says. "You said it was coming from this city." He points towards Purkoll.

"I can only speculate, but it is possible there's a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances."

"Or, maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap," Hunter suggests. "And maybe your friend's actually dead." He folds his arms. "Well, I can't be the only one thinking of that."

"Every mission could be a trap," Rex and I say at the same time, and I glare at him, falling silent. "This one is no different," Rex continues. "I'm telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He's alive!" I nudge Rex in the side. "Be realistic, Captain. There's not really a high chance that that's gonna happen."

"I think you're letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel," Crosshair says, and I clench my fist around one of my knives, which is sheathed in my belt right now. That eagerness to punch him in the face out of pure anger, it's strong, but I resist it. Not really the logical thing to do right now.

"I had no choice, you hear me?!" Rex, unlike me, isn't doing much of a good job hiding his anger.

"Oh, I don't blame you. I would've left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg."

I'm breathing heavily under my helmet, one hand gripped on the hilt of my knife, the other with my nails digging so hard into my skin, even though my glove, it leaves marks. Even though Crosshair is directing his words towards Rex, it's having an effect on me as well. 

And then Rex punches Crosshair in the face/helmet, knocking him to the ground. 

"Yoooo Rex, just chill!" I try to get him to calm down, but he's not stopping. I pull out my pistol and point it to Crosshair's head as Wrecker picks Rex up by the back of his armor. "I called first dibs."

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone not your size?" Wrecker throws Rex to the ground, who almost instantly gets up, walking up real close to Wrecker. "You'll be a whole lot smaller when I'm through with you."

My pistol is still pointed to Crosshair's head, my finger resting on the trigger, my other hand drawing my knife and pressing it under his helmet and to his neck, I'm breathing heavily, all sense of logic gone, it's the same feeling when Fox killed Fives. And it's strong.

"That's enough!" General Skywalker puts a hand on Rex and Wrecker's shoulders, pushing them away from each other before Wrecker beats Rex to clone mush, and then he pushes me and Crosshair apart before I can get any more blood on my knife. 

"Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my troopers alone," General Skywalker orders, sounding slightly fierce.

Rex and I stay behind as the batch walk away. Toothpick bitch glances back at us for a moment, before looking away.

"Rex, Aris, I hate to say it, but...you have to prepare yourself for the possibility that Echo is dead, and this is all a Separatist trick," General Skywalker puts a hand on our shoulders.

"Sir, I have watched so many of my brothers fall during this war, and I try not to hang on to any one of them," Rex says, taking off his helmet. "But that changed when I heard that Separatist transmission. It was no algorithm. That was Echo's voice. I know it."

"And if there's any chance that Echo, my brother, is still out there, alive, we have to take it," I add on, taking off my helmet as well.

"I hope you're right," General Skywalker says. "But if, for some reason, you're wrong..."

"Then I'll deal with it," Rex and I say at the same time.

And I've learned to deal with it on my own. No "Dad" to comfort me or help me. That's what I did with Fives. And if I have to do it again with Echo, I will.

All I'll need to do is constantly wipe the blood off my knives, and make sure no one sees the wounds on my arms.

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 6

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Blood, violence, injuries (cleaning wounds)

I can't move.

The creature's advancing fast, claw raised to strike the other side of my face. My legs aren't listening to my brain. They're rooted to the ground. My hand reaches for the hilt of my knife but it's nowhere to be found. Blood's still dripping from my eye.

I see the glint of its claws under the moonlight, poised to strike. Sharp knives digging into the other side of my face. And then my chest, blood spilling out from the wounds and dripping to the ground as my legs give out under me. I can barely breathe, the blood from my face flowing into my mouth and down my throat as I try to cough it up, but only more blood comes out.

Everything's blurry now, my vision a red haze of pain. I blink the blood out of my eyes, only to be met with the creature standing above me, claws to my throat. I can't even squirm under the weight of the animal.

My vision slowly starts to fade as the pain at the side of my face intensifies.

I'm gonna die. That's totally fine.

Humor isn't exactly working out right now. I feel the sharp claws press against my throat, and the intensity of my coughs increase as I try desperately to breathe and calm my nerves.

The creature raises its claws to strike, and all I can do is watch as its claws descend to my throat and slice through it like a knife through butter. I want to scream, but it's muffled by the blood in my mouth.

That's when I wake up on the bed of my empty apartment, coughing violently, my hand instinctively shooting up to the left side of my face where I still feel the claw marks indented into my skin. My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I frantically scan the area for signs of any movement in the darkness of my apartment. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to regain control of my breathing. My hands now grip the bed tightly, almost as if it could protect me from any danger.

Bed is safe.

My breathing steadies slightly so that I'm not gasping for air anymore, but my hands are trembling, clutching onto the sheets of the bed for dear life.

I press a hand to my forehead. It's sticky and warm. My breath hitches in my throat as I remove my hand from my forehead and put it to eye level. My eye scans for any signs of the sticky red liquid that makes my stomach sick, but there's no trace of it. I lay my head back against the pillow again, and stare up at the ceiling, its white paint coat slowly peeling off of it.

It reminds me of how the skin on Mayday's back was peeling off after he got whipped. I feel a lump start to rise in my throat when I think about it.

It's unfair. He got punished and I didn't. When he told me about it, I could tell that he did something to get me out of punishment. I've known him long enough to know.

I can almost see the blood oozing out of Mayday's wounds, the angry red skin surrounding the deep gashes in his back, the way he winced when I put the bandages there. It must've hurt.

I am grateful to Mayday for getting me out of punishment, who wouldn't? No one wants to get whipped on the back like that. But maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I was right beside him, taking the same punishment. Maybe he wouldn't have that dead look in his eyes that I saw yesterday.

I just want to hug him, to comfort him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay. He doesn't deserve what he got.

After a few minutes of overthinking, I snap back to reality and get out of bed. There's some noise coming from the streets below, but not a lot. I assume it's about 6 or 7 in the morning from the amount of people downstairs.

I head over to Mayday's apartment with a roll of fresh bandages. I knock on the door.

"The door's unlocked." I hear a muffled voice from inside. I open the door to see Mayday lying on the couch on his stomach. When he hears my footsteps, he looks up at me with those eyes that have been haunting me all night.

I sit down next to him.

"Sit up," I pat his shoulder gently.

Mayday shakes his head, his face pressed against the sofa.

"I said sit up." I pull him by the shoulders and force him to sit up. "Now take off your goddamn shirt so I can rebandage those fucking wounds."

Mayday groans. "Fine." He takes off his shirt, his back facing me so that the bandages that I put on him yesterday are visible. They're soaked through with blood, staining them a dark crimson.

I inhale sharply through my teeth.

"What?" Mayday asks, annoyed.

"It doesn't look good," I reply as I start unravelling the bandages around his torso, revealing the cuts on his back.

I cringe at the sight of it. There's some patches of dried blood clumped together, but there's blood all over his back. There's some bruising at the areas where his skin isn't cut open, and his back is swelling slightly. I always hated the sight of wounds. I can deal with death, sure, but not injuries. Those make me sick.

I hear Mayday wince as the wounds hit fresh air. Not really fresh, considering the air in the apartment isn't that well-ventilated.

"I...might have to wash that..." I tell him.

"WHAT?!" Mayday shouts, turning around to face me, but winces again at the pain in his back. It's the reaction I expected.

"If you want it to get infected, swell up even more, have pus in it, have to be taken to the hospital and pay more for treatment and maybe even surgery, go ahead," I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

I head to the toilet where there's an old cloth on the sink, I assume it's one of Mayday's brothers'. I quickly wash it with water, trying to clean it as well as I can, getting most of the dirt off of it.

With the cloth still dripping wet, I head over to Mayday.

"Lie on your stomach and stay still, or I'm going to press this cloth onto your back even harder," I order. Mayday rolls his eyes but reluctantly complies with the order. I then place the wet cloth onto his back, the blood almost soaking through it immediately.

Mayday inhales sharply as a shudder runs through his back. He presses his face into the sofa to muffle his shouts of pain, but I can still hear them. I gently press the cloth down onto his back, and he starts shaking. I can hear him breathing heavily, and almost what sounds like crying, muffled by the sofa.

"Sit up," I tell him after I finish cleaning his wounds, and wrap fresh bandages around his torso to cover the cuts, which are still bleeding, but slower. I catch a glimpse of Mayday wiping a few tears from his eyes but I don't mention it to make sure he doesn't die of embarrassment.

"There. Done." I look up at him. Mayday grits his teeth. "Thanks," he says. I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. I roll my eyes and bring the cloth back to the toilet, soaking it with water and trying to squeeze the blood out from it. By the time I'm done, most of the blood from the cloth is gone and I return it to its original position on the sink.

For the next few days, I help Mayday with his wounds. They've become scabs by now and he's no longer staining the chair in his apartment with his blood. This is the fourth day I've cleaned the area around Mayday's back. It's still bruised but slightly less now, and I make sure to be careful and avoid accidentally peeling the scabs off and reopening the wounds.

As usual, Mayday takes off his shirt and lays down on the couch, his bruised back facing up. That's when I hear a knock on the door. Mayday and I both stand up and open the door ever so slightly to see who's outside. Then five bodies come crashing down on us, and we all fall to the floor in one massive pile.

It's Mayday's brothers. Great. Mayday sighs and lets himself get tackled to the floor by his brothers while I squirm my way out of the pile and head to my apartment to find my own family.

When I open the door, I see my parents and grandparents waiting at the door for me. I immediately run into their arms and hug them as tightly as I can.

"I missed you," I mumble, my arms tightening around them.

My grandfather pats my head, and my father replies, "Missed you too Potato." It's the nickname he gave me when I was younger.

After a moment, I let go of them, but they don't let go of me.

They're not usually this clingy. Something's wrong.

"What happened?" I ask.

They have a solemn look on their faces, my mother and grandparents seem to be holding back tears. While their faces may not show it, I know them too well. My father's got no tears to cry. His tear ducts were damaged from the heat on a trip outside the ray shield in the early days back in North America.

They remain silent.

I hear sobbing and crying from the apartment next to us. Mayday's apartment. It's either tears of joy, or the same tears that my family's holding back.

I've got a feeling it's not tears of joy.

Into the Dark

Chapter 3: Imprisoned

Word count: 872

Warnings: none! (for once)

When I open my eyes, everything's dark. I can't see anything. I'm starting to think I'm still out cold, but when I slap my face with my palm, I can feel it, so I'm probably awake.

Probably.

My metal arm is working now, I can feel my fingers moving when I flex them. Even though I can't see anything around me, I can sense that I'm in a room. I can just make out the faint outline of bars in front of me. This is a prison cell. And I'm the prisoner.

I'm constantly hearing whispering, it almost feels like it's coming from the walls around me. 

"CAN YOU SHUT UP?!" I shout, and the voices go silent for a moment, before I hear the whispering start again.

I can see black lines running up my body. They weren't there before. I instantly start scratching at them, trying to get them off of me. They refuse. I keep scratching, my skin is flaking now, and I'm causing more harm to myself than the black lines on me.

Eventually I stop, knowing that the black lines won't go away. I can literally hear them telling me that it's no use.

They feel weird on me. It's as if I've had them all my life, but they're only deciding to come out now. I can feel a tingling sensation on my skin, and I'm blaming the black lines for it.

My weapons are gone. Nothing to blast my way out of here with. I stand up and walk towards the bars, looking at the area outside my cell. There are many other cells, but they're all empty. I'm the only prisoner here, and guards are stationed outside my cell. 

I've broken out of prison before, but that was when I could actually see the stuff around me. I can't see 10 meters ahead of me.

I think been in too much war. I literally haven't even asked what is happening, like any normal human would.

What is happening?

I put my hands against the bars of my cell and try to look out further. I suddenly feel a strong force on my arms, and when I look down, I see the darkness from the bars spreading out to reach the black lines on my arms, and they connect, and they're pulling me in. I try to pull my hands away, but the darkness is too strong. It won't let me go.

Suddenly, a blade extends into my cell and cuts me free. I only get to catch a quick glimpse of the blade before it retracts again. It's black and has orange highlights on it which are barely visible.

"Okay, lesson learned, don't touch the bars," I say to myself.

I lean against the wall of my cell, sitting down. I recognized this as one of the cells from the Other Realm. I got captured here before, but I escaped with ease. This was one of the less secure prisons in the Other Realm, where they used to put the captured rookie mech pilots.

I press a hand to my forehead. My head hurts from all the voices that I'm hearing in my head. 

I look up to the bars. 

What are these things made out of? 

I think they're the same stuff as the black lines on my skin, based on how they connected with each other just now.

Some voices in my head are now louder than others. Some even project images into my head. One of the prison that I'm in, another of what the world has just become, and...me? In my cell? I look around, scanning my cell for any security cameras. There's none. How am I supposed to escape if these guys in my head can see everything that I'm doing? Maybe they can't and they're just trying to scare me from trying to escape.

"Don't bother trying to escape. We're watching you," one of the voices says. 

They can read my fucking thoughts now?

"Language," one of them says.

Shut up.

"No."

I swear if you don't shut the fuck up right know I'm gonna cut my own head off.

"With what? You have no weapons."

Am I seriously having a conversation with myself right now?

"Not with yourself. With us."

Who's us?

No reply.

HEY ANSWER MY QUESTION BRO.

No reply either.

I look down at my body. Ever since I arrived here my injuries from the past battle haven't been visible. 

I press a hand to where the cut on my face was in the previous battle. I can only feel black lines covering it-

WAIT WHAT?!?!!?!?

I remove my hand from my face and glance down at my hand, there's nothing. There's a tingling sensation on the area where the cut is. After a while, I decide to check the wound again.

I only feel skin and a few black lines.

Did those things just heal me?

"Yes, they did. Now you better get comfortable, because you're gonna be here for a long time."

I smirk. 

You don't know me. I can bet that by morning, I'll be outta here and on my way back to base.