Our Own Choices

i have mixed feelings about the finale tmr

im scared that someone in the batch will die

im excited cos FREE ZILLY

im sad cos the bad batch got me out of a depresso time in my life and now its ending

im happy cos its tbb

im not ready for tmr

TBB SEASON 3 IS OUT WOOOOO

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??????

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.

i genuinely cried at the ending and i dont know why

just seeing hunter aka my father figure growing old and omega leaving just

i dont wanna say goodbye

tbb got me through my parents divorce and through my suicidal thoughts

they were better friends to me than any of my real ones

they helped me transition to secondary school

they helped me find new friends

they inspired me to get my life back together

they inspired me to write stories and ive gotten into a writing program in sch because of it

they were the dads i never had

and i grew up with omega

to see the series end, to not see them again in new official content, its just breaking me

all i want is friends like them and to have a family like omega

thats all i want

Into the Dark

Chapter 1: Frontlines

(unfinished story btw i abandoned it a while ago)

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Violence, war, death

I see the enemy mechs take formation in front of me. Everything is crystal clear from my cockpit, and I can feel the adrenaline rush. That's what I love about this war.

In my own mech, I charge towards the formation, breaking through them as I slice at two with my double swords. I activate my thrusters to stop mid-air, turning around and raising the shield that was on my back a few moments ago to block the bullets that the enemy mechs just fired at me.

And now it's time for me to bring my own guns out. The laser gatling guns come out from under my mech's arms, and I command them to fire. The lasers pierce another one of the cockpits of the mechs, and it falls limp onto the battle raging far below.

Suddenly, one of the mechs rams into me from behind, the alarms in my mech blare as I spin in the air. I try to shake the mech off, but it's grip on me is too strong. We're spiralling to the ground, further and further away from the Rip where more mechs are coming.

I see the ground below. Blaster shots everywhere, the only difference between ours and the enemies' is the colour. I max out my thrusters, getting myself back upright and peeling the mech off me and flying upwards. The enemy mech follows.

We're almost going at the same speed, ascending rapidly. I get my sword out, abruptly stopping. The enemy mech following me crashes into me again, but this time I have the advantage and stab it in the cockpit. The mech's lights go out, and its body goes limp, falling back down.

I look up at the bunch of mechs coming through, and smirk. More victims for me.

Before they can get into formation, I charge at one of them, slicing it in half before it can react, activating my gatling guns and firing at the enemy mechs before they can fire at me.

Some of the enemy mechs remain unmoving. I can almost sense the fear in them. They've heard about me before. Stories about how I defeated entire legions of enemy mechs. Stories about the Demon of The Other Realm.

I dip down as they start firing at me, and I block some of the enemy fire with my shield. It's about to break. It hasn't handled this much fire in a while. My mech shows me the one that's firing the most, and I fly, shield still up, into the enemy mech, crushing its thrusters with one arm, hurling it down onto the battlefield.

No more mechs are coming through the Rip, and I only have about 10 more to go. I ascend further up really near the Rip, and use the cover of the clouds to hide, activating my guns again and shooting down below. My mech shows me the targets, and all I need to do is fire.

And soon enough, only one mech remains. I want to take this one out in the coolest way possible. The pilot should feel honoured.

I go out of the cloud cover, seeing the final mech. I fly above it as it fires at me, flying straight downwards as I pass by it.

It's too late by the time it turns around, its thrusters are already destroyed from my shots. And it falls.

I grab it by the torso and speed downwards. I can't sense the fear in the pilot of this mech, only the feeling you get when you know you're about to die and you've accepted it.

I hear a timer ticking. I already know it's a bomb. I've heard too many of them. And suddenly, the mech grips onto me as we get closer to the ground, and it doesn't wanna let go.

I wrench one of my arms out from its grip, and get my shield. I activate my thrusters as we hit the ground, slowing our landing.

The next thing I see is flames as I raise my shield. The force knocks me backwards, and I flip before landing on my feet, driving my sword into the ground to slow myself to a stop.

I'm in the middle of a battlefield now. Enemy troops try to penetrate my armour with their blasters, firing at my cockpit.

I gotta get out of here fast. And anyways, I think the boys down below are having fun.

I activate my thrusters again and fly back to base.

The fights are getting easier and easier. They're running out of mechs and pilots. They're focusing more on the ground combat.

I remember my days on the ground as I step out of my cockpit and I flex my metal arm.

Flashback

The sounds of blaster fire echo through the battlefield as I take cover. A grenade lands right next to me and my group. I jump out just in time as the grenade explodes. The others aren't so lucky.

I see soldiers being struck down by fireballs, burning at the torso or the head. I feel the ground shaking, and suddenly I get launched into the air by an unknown force, as if the earth itself was trying to kill me.

I land on my back, pain shooting up my torso and I resist the urge to scream. Show no weakness. My vision is blurry.

The tide turns, and not in our favour. The fire strikes down so many soldiers. I inch back, dropping my blaster. I can't stand.

I find some cover in one of the wrecked enemy mechs. I curl up into a ball as the sounds of blaster fire grow louder.

Soon, it all stops. I crawl out from the wreckage, and bodies are strewn all over the ground. I try to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly, and I fall to the ground again. I still can't see clearly.

I see a figure standing over me, holding a blaster and a lightsaber clipped to its belt. I can see that its hair is black, just reaching its shoulders, and in its hand is a ball with a red light blinking.

I recognize the sound of the beeping of the ball in its hands. It's a grenade. And the figure drops it before running away.

I crawl away as fast as I can, but it's not fast enough. The beeping sounds get to the part where it's so fast that it almost flatlines.

I block my head with one of my arms as it explodes.

Flashback ends

Blown clean off my shoulder. I move my fingers of my metal arm around, hearing the clink of metal against metal.

That was what drove me to fight. But not as a ground soldier anymore. I was going to be a part of the elites, having the privilege of flying in a mech. And I did get it.

I have nightmares of the explosion sometimes, when I still had a flesh-and-blood arm. But I brush it off quickly. Show no weakness.

I walk over to the commander's office to report in.

"When's the next battle," I ask, slumping onto the chair, one leg on the armrest.

"Already? No rest for the Demon of The Other Realm," he smirks. I hate that title. They found me in the Rip. They knew I wasn't from their realm, and I did too. That title is only a reminder of it.

"Yes commander. No rest for the Demon of The Other Realm."

i think the clone operative is tech for a few reasons:

the tech turn when he lands the ship

the goofy ahh flopping onto the rocks

callback to one of the episodes where tech falls down a waterfall??

the limping

the frustration with technology and reliance on it

delusion

reasons i think it cant be tech:

crosshair said it didnt work on him cos he was defective so it wouldnt work on tech either cos hes also defective

reasons why its soup clone:

yes

Our Own Choices

Chapter 10

The Bad Batch found an entrance to the city, and contacted General Skywalker, me and Rex. It's really windy up here, it's a good thing I'm wearing a helmet because I think there's sand in the wind. General Skywalker doesn't look very happy, of course he isn't. Sand's coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere, just like Crosshair. At least, when I finally get a chance to stab him. I kinda wanna rip his guts out while he's still alive, no one talks shit about Echo and makes it through the night.

"We're in business, General. Tech regained Echo's signal," Hunter says as we reach them. "It's coming from this tower. How's it going Tech?"

Tech doesn't reply, he's busy hacking the door, and in a few moments, the door opens.

"Sorry it took so long."

Shut up and stop flexing.

"Hey Crosshair, go and check it out," Hunter says and Crosshair walks into the place. 

"Yea, it's a lift."

No need to state the obvious.

"Well we already knew that," Tech says as we all walk in.

"Wait wait wait, a lift?" I hear Wrecker's sounding a bit scared. "How far up are we going?"

"Don't worry Wrecker, I'll hold your hand," Hunter replies, receiving a shoulder knock from Wrecker. "Hey cut it out Sarge. Just gimme some droids to crush."

The lift door closes and we ascend.

"Remember, this is a stealth mission. No blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we're here," General Skywalker says and the doors open, revealing a bunch of droids, and the batch and I run in, blasting the remaining droids that Wrecker hasn't destroyed or thrown off the building.

Hunter and Crosshair take out the ones near the edge, while Tech and I take out the ones guarding the hallway. I manage to get 3 of them with my sword as Tech rolls and takes cover behind the crates. 

Some more droids come out from the hallway and Wrecker starts taking care of them, running over to the 2 droids at my place, but I take them out with a shot to the head in one and I throw my knife at the other, hitting it square in the head.

Once they all get taken out, Wrecker starts shouting "YEAHHHH" like he just won a battle royale solo in the legendary rank in Call of Duty.

Shit don't think about that. Anyways, cringe.

I cringe slightly and all of us stare at Wrecker with that "tf bro" look under our helmets.

"Uh sorry. I just got excited," he says, walking over to us.

"I've still got a lock on Echo's signal," Tech says.

"Alright men, let's hunt some droids," Hunter says and we walk into the hallway. We walk for about a minute before we reach a door, Hunter's the first to look out, and then signals to Rex, and they go out and blast the droids. The rest of us walk out.

"Where exactly is Echo's signal coming from?" General Skywalker asks.

"Strange. I just lost the signal," Tech says as Rex takes off his helmet.

"What? How can that be? There's no 'atmospheric disturbances' up here."

"Well, I have a new theory. I'm surprised I did not consider it earlier." Tech sounds like an AI. "The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal."

"Okay, we're splitting up," General Skywalker says. "Search every door. If someone finds Echo, contact the others. We go in together, just in case there's trouble."

So Crosshair and I follow General Skywalker while the others follow Rex, running off in the other direction. I'm only following them because maybe I'll get the chance to rip Crosshair's eye out. 

General Skywalker takes one door, Crosshair takes another, and I take the furthest one, walking into the dimly-lit corridor, full of crates. 

"Echo?" I call out, and there's a slight echo throughout the room. No pun intended. There's no reply, so I turn my heat visor on, and I don't see anything, so I head out and check on General Skywalker, Crosshair is there as well.

A droid is just about to hump/blast General Skywalker and Crosshair fires a shot at the same time I throw my knife at the droid. The knife hits the droid's head and the shot hits the body of the droid. 

General Skywalker whips around, lightsaber ignited, as Crosshair lowers his rifle. General Skywalker picks up my knife from the droid's head, throwing it back at me over Crosshair's shoulder, and retracts his lightsaber. I catch the knife by the handle and sheath it back into my wrist compartment.

"Nice throw," General Skywalker says as we walk out.

"Nice shot," I say to Crosshair, and he gives me that downwards nod of respect.

HELL YEA

We head to where the others are, General Skywalker leading the way. We see a bunch of droids surrounding them, and General Skywalker force pushes some of the droids out of the way, slicing them in half with his lightsaber. I run ahead and steal some kills from Hunter with my sword, pistol in the other hand. 

Crosshair shoots from behind, and then doing that Call of Duty slide, shooting 2 more droids in the process and hitting one with his rifle before shooting it.

General Skywalker finishes up the last droid, and then there's a moment of silence and we all look around, before more droids come from the hallway, blasting at us. I duck as a blaster bolt whizzes over my head, going to take cover where Hunter, Rex and Tech are at.

"GUYS SHOULDN'T WE LIKE OPEN THAT DOOR OR SMTH," I shout as I blast a few droids that are coming from the opposite hallway.

"Tech, open that door for Rex!" General Skywalker commands, and Tech gets to work. Rex and I run to the door as it opens and we find ourselves in a room lit by yellow floor lamps, electricity crackling at some pillars, and there's a control panel below what looks like one of those escape pods.

"This doesn't look good," I comment as Tech goes to press some buttons on the control panel, which causes some white gas to come out of the pod. "I'm definitely picking up a life-form in there," Tech says as he presses more buttons. "It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open." 

And then when the stasis chamber opens, a bunch of white gas flows out, followed by what I can barely recognize as Echo, connected to the thing by wires, hanging out, his eyes lifeless. He looks almost droidlike, with all the machinery connected to him. I can almost hear him transmitting "CT-1409", and I resist the urge to back away, creeped out by Echo's dead-looking eyes.

"Echo," Rex says, before standing on the control panel and disconnecting a wire from Echo's legs, and carrying him, setting him down on the ground. I now have a clear view of him, his right arm has become a prosthetic one, it looks like the machinery that the droids use to open doors in the republic ships. 

"Tech, we gotta get him outta here," Rex says. "Figure out how to unplug him from...from this mess."

We both take off our helmets and look down at Echo. His skin is really pale, and I can see Rex's horrified expression, while I keep a neutral one, I'll deal with it when I'm alone. "What have they done to you?" Rex sounds like he just lost a battle royale solo when he was one of the last 2 guys remaining and got sniped.

"We-we have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel...no...I'll go first..." Echo's voice is weak, and Rex puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, and I do the same. "Echo-"

"No...no...no..."

"Echo, it's Rex. I'm here," Rex says, and Echo's shaking slightly, breathing heavily. I know how it feels like. The choking feeling as memories of injuries are recounted. 

"Rex? You-you came back for me," Echo says, grabbing Rex's arm. I kneel down next to his side.

Of course we did. We don't leave our own behind. 

"Yes, yes I did," Rex replies, a concerned expression on his face, staring down at Echo. 

"What-what happened? Where am I?" 

"It's okay Echo. You're safe now," Rex says, holding Echo's arm reassuringly. "Just sit tight, trooper. You're going home."

He motions for Tech to come over and try to help disconnect Echo, and my hand's still on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

You're gonna be okay, Echo. You're gonna be okay.

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 7

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Shitty chapter, profanity, violence, a little bit of blood

I fall asleep on the floor, next to the bed where my grandparents are sleeping, and next to my parents. I'm sandwiched between them.

I'm woken up by a ringing sound coming from outside. The others haven't noticed it yet. I wriggle out from in between my parents and open the door. Outside is bright. Too bright. And the lights. The white lights adorning the streets are now red, casting an eerie glow over the city.

The speakers along the streets are flashing red too. My parents come up behind me.

When I turn around to meet their gaze, I'm met with wide eyes full of dread. Mayday and his brothers come out of the door to their apartment, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, their confusion evident.

"Oh shit," one of his brothers says, and the rest of them start cursing as well. Mayday remains silent with a hardened expression, letting out a barely audible sigh.

A voice comes onto the speakers.

"If you have not realized, the rations that you have been receiving are decreasing. We are running out of resources to sustain a population of this size, especially with the residents on Mars."

The voice is disgustingly smooth, like an Imperial officer from Star Wars. It pauses.

"Hence, one child from each family will be put into the transantarctic mountains to survive until one hundred million of you remain for population control. Killing is optional, but not prohibited. The families of the fallen will be sent back to North America to die. Troopers will come over to each apartment tomorrow to collect the...competitors. We hope you have enjoyed your stay in Antarctica, and may the strongest survive."

My heart drops.

One child from each family. I'm going to die. They're going to kill me.

My breathing quickens and my vision blurs with tears as I sink to my knees, holding my head in my hands, silently praying for whatever god there is out there to throw me off this building right now to end my suffering.

The next few minutes are a blur. Warm embraces, voices whispering that everything's going to be okay. But I know it isn't. I'm an only child. I'm going to die.

"You're going to survive. Come on, we're good with weapons, aren't we?" Mayday tries to reassure me, his voice a soothing whisper as he holds me alongside my mother and my grandparents.

I nod as silent tears stream down my face, a stinging sensation in my nose as I hold back sobs.

"D-dad?" I call out, my voice shaky. No response from that familiar voice that used to tell me stories every night.

My mother hugs me tighter. "It's okay. He just needs some time to process things. You're going to be okay." My grip around her shoulder and the fabric of Mayday's shirt tightens.

I better be okay. I can't let you guys die.

"Mayday..." I manage to croak out, a sob slipping out. "What is it?" he asks, his voice calm yet his expression etched with worry.

"Promise me you won't go, alright? Send one of your brothers or something. Just don't go. Please..." My voice breaks. I'm surprised I managed to get so many words out without breaking down into sobs again.

He remains quiet.

"Mayday?" I look up. His expression is grim, yet he manages to force a smile the moment he notices me.

"I promise," he replies, patting my shoulder. "You better not die out there, okay?" His voice sounds surprisingly calm for someone who just heard their best friend is probably going to die.

"I can't promise anything," I say, my voice coming out shakier than intended.

I'm going to die.

/////

I lay on the floor, staring blankly up at the grey, cracked ceiling. My parents fell asleep a long time ago. At least, that's what it feels like.

Time inches by slowly, dread filling me up and invading my head. I can't stop thinking about tomorrow.

If I don't survive, my family's going to die.

"Ah Kong and Ah Ma believe in you," my grandparents comforted me what feels like an eternity ago, when I curled up against the wall crying. I can't let them down.

But what if I do? The image of flesh melting and bodies collapsing fills my head. Screams for help, people wailing for their dead children, and I see my parents and grandparents there. I can't let them suffer that fate.

But killing other people? I've never done that before. Sure, I've killed animals, but...killing a human...don't think about that. How're you going to survive out there?

The mines. They're probably for killing the children. The animal...it'll be out there...I could kill something like that for food. There are probably caves in the mountains that can act as shelter. Yeah. I can do this. I can do this.

I curl up on the floor, hugging my knees, tears threatening to spill down my face.

I can do this...

I better do this...

On the bright side, Mayday will be safe. Or not. If one of his brothers enters and dies, he'll die too. Well damn, at least he won't die a gruesome death-

Nevermind. Having your flesh melted off of your bones doesn't sound pretty either.

The little bit of hope I had left drains from my body, and slowly, everything starts to get numb. So what if Mayday dies? The only thing that matters is that I survive.

I don't know how much time has passed when the dreaded knock on the door reaches my ears. Standing up, I grab my knife and pistol, clipping them to my belt, about to head for the door.

Then I feel arms wrap around me from behind, causing me to stiffen up. Turning my head, I'm met with my mother's tear-stained face, my father and grandparents standing behind her.

They each take turns to give me hugs before they give me one big group hug. "We're counting on you," my father says, before the knock is heard on the door again, louder this time, almost like a threat.

I nod. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest, the numbness of the previous night slowly fading away, replacing it with panic.

I open the door, only to be met with a soldier in white plastoid armor. They take one look at my knife and pistol, before pulling it out from my belt with one swift motion.

"Hey!" I protest, reaching for my knife and pistol, which earns me a hard slap on the arm when the soldier swats it away. "Weapons aren't allowed in Control," they say in a voice that sounds almost robotic, probably modulated by the helmet. Then they snap a band around my wrist and drag me away.

"Hey! No need to drag me-" I protest, before the soldier turns their helmet to look at me. That shuts me up instantly.

As I'm being dragged away, I see my parents and grandparents waving at me, wiping tears from their eyes. I give them a slight nod to reassure them that I'll be fine.

I'm not going to be fine.

I hear people shouting and screaming from downstairs. Sounds of blasters firing, repeated commands of "Get down on the ground!"

They're resisting.

I try to take a peek over the edge of the railing, but the soldier tugs me back with their strong grip around my wrist. I'm so caught up in the chaos of what's happening downstairs that it takes until we head to the stairs for me to notice Mayday being dragged by a soldier behind me.

"Mayday?!" I shout out, my eyes widening in panic. No no no no no no no no this cannot be happening. What the fuck is he doing?! I told that fucking bitch not to enter! He's gonna die!

"What the fuck-" I call out, before I'm cut off by the soldier with a sharp tug down the stairs, causing me to stumble and almost fall down.

We aren't even taking the lift?!

I dare not to protest as I'm dragged all the way down the stairs. What they did to Mayday when we were caught...I don't want that to happen to me.

Downstairs is even more chaotic than I thought. Bottles are being thrown at other soldiers, angry parents trying to body slam them to get them to release their children, only to be shot down. The faint smell of smoke fills my senses.

"Let's go," the robotic voice of the soldier commands. 

The blaster shots continue as I'm dragged to the outskirts of the city, where the big ray shield has been opened for soldiers to drag children to the transports.

I can see toddlers amongst the crowd of people being dragged. They took toddlers too?! What kind of fucking shit is this?!

My eyes dart around, searching for Mayday. If I could form an alliance with him, we might stand a chance. My heart drops as I find him, blood dripping out from the side of his head as he struggles against the soldier dragging him.

"MAYDAY!" I scream, struggling against the grip of the soldier, earning a swift smack to the back of my head. I grit my teeth as I take the hit, and as much as I want to fight back, I know it'll just make things worse. 

As we pass through the opening, I look up at the glowing red forcefield.

No ray shield to protect you now. The mines, the animal that's out there...

I feel the panic I tried so hared to suppress build up in my gut again. The animal almost killed me once. If I die...

Stop thinking about that. Everything's going to be fine. But Mayday...his head's bleeding...I have to find him when this shit starts.

The transport that I'm dragged to is a shiny silver. The sunlight reflects off of it, making it almost blinding when I look at it. I stare down at the gravel on the floor as I pick up my pace, trying to keep up with the soldier. 

You can do this. You can do this.

When we reach the transport, I'm shoved up the ramp. I stumble forwards, crashing into another teenager who looks like he's a year older than me. And much stronger. 

"Hey!" he shouts, before shoving me backwards. As much as I want to, I dare not retaliate. I don't want to get injured before the real thing starts. I stare down at the ground, mumble a half-hearted "Sorry", before scanning my surroundings for Mayday.

It's so fucking cramped in here. My body's pressed up against at least six other people. The transport is full of murmurs and the occasional scream or shout. And it's stuffy. 

Great. Just great. 

It takes about half an hour before everyone's loaded up. By then, the murmurs have turned to grumbles, and the annoying cries of toddlers fills the transport. 

Stop crying. You're not going to make it anyways. 

My hands clench into fists as I try to drown out the sounds with my own thoughts.

Find Mayday. Find a weapon. Find shelter. Step where others step until they blow up and die. Remember the smell of mines. 

My legs are shaking. I don't want to die. I don't want any of this. Please tell me this is all a dream, and I'm at home sleeping in between my parents, curled up against the warmth of their bodies. Let me wake up. Please.

But as the transport door closes, and we're enveloped in darkness, I know this isn't a dream. 

This is real. 

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.