I Genuinely Cried At The Ending And I Dont Know Why

“yknow what makes us different from battle droids? we make our own decisions. our own choices. and we have to live with them too.”

Our Own Choices is an ongoing bad batch fanfiction about a female clone written by me (TBNR_Dream_BMGO) and if yall are interested yall can go read it on wattpad

gonna include a bit of war crimes, OBVIOUSLY ROASTING OF CROSSHAIR, REX BEING LIKE THE FEMALE CLONES DAD-

ok anywaya yea :)

Anakin Skywalkers sister, Aris Skywalker as a bounty hunter

from my fanfiction on wattpad

my account: TBNR_Dream_BMGO

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.

Into the Dark

Chapter 2: The Darkness Comes

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

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: War, violence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Show no weakness.

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

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

I like these odds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember the guy who took your arm?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE WAY HE SAYS HER NAME HES SO WORRIED FOR HER

"this is our chance."

happy echo day guys!!! (14/09)

(ik this isnt echo but its his vod’ika from Our Own Choices saying happy echo day)

(im scared to mess up drawing echo so yea)

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

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 9

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Child death, violence, blood, weapons

The storm rages on for a while. I don't keep track of time as I stay curled up in a pathetic little ball in the corner of the cave with my supplies. Thunder crashes outside, leaving a ringing sound in my ears. Rainwater sprays in ever so often, helping me wash off the blood in my hair.

The girl. The hairpin.

I almost gag at the memory of her body, blood spurting out of her carotid artery and into my face. The metallic taste of the liquid in my mouth as I continued to pierce her already lifeless body.

Her family will burn because of me.

The toddler she killed. He could barely walk. Of course he couldn't survive. Better to get killed by her than die of thirst or starvation.

I don't use the rainwater to wash the hairpin. It could corrode the metal and dull it.

Stupid antique hairpins.

I hear the crunching of gravel from outside the cave, slow and inconsistent. I uncurl from the ball and ready the hairpin. Heading to the mouth of the cave, being careful not to slip out, I look down, seeing the silhouette of a tall boy climbing up the base of the mountain, clutching his leg like he's wounded. There's a knife in his hand. It's not Mayday's knife.

If he sees me he's going to try and kill me.

My body tenses up as my hand around the hairpin tightens. A lump rises in my throat, restricting my breath, my throat tightening.

Steeling myself for another kill, I hide just behind the entrance to the cave, waiting for the stranger to enter, my head spinning as I ready myself to kill another person if necessary.

No. It is necessary. They'll do whatever they must to survive. No alliances.

As the figure approaches the mouth of the cave, I tackle it to the ground, kicking it in between the legs. I hear a pained scream and I shut it up by stabbing it in the neck, the blood spilling out as its body goes limp.

I know it's not Mayday. He'd put up more of a fight.

I wipe the blood on my hands on the boy's face. His eyes are still open, the fear in his eyes visible, his mouth open with a silent scream. Dragging the boy by the legs, my muscles straining, I push him out of the cave to roll down the mountain.

He would have killed me had I not killed him first.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead, staining my face with crimson liquid. The clap of thunder that follows the "thump" of the body hitting the ground leaves a ringing sound in my ears.

I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, my eyes darting around, ears perked up in case of the faintest sound of footsteps. The sound of mines going off continues. Every "boom" reminds me of the girl that blew up right next to me. The intestines spilling out of her severed torso, her limbs blown clean off their joints...it sends shivers through my body, a sickening feeling rising up in my gut.

The hairpin, still clutched tightly in my hand, feels like lead. I've taken two lives with this, which leads to around ten more lost. I slump against the wall of the cave as water from the storm sprays inside.

I can't sleep. Someone could kill me.

Taking a small drink from the water packet next to my rations and sniper, I hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Hurriedly picking myself up from the cave floor, my cybernetic eye whirls around in its socket whilst my real one darts around frantically. My breathing quickens, my legs ready to carry me while I stab my hairpin into the attacker.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder.

Where is it? WHERE IS I T?!

I look out the mouth of the cave, searching for the source of the sound. My cybernetic eye doesn't display any heat signatures nearby. But how could this be? I swear I heard something. It was so L O U D.

It could be above me. Maybe taking shelter. Now's the time to strike, but the storm...I can't make a move now. I'll find the person later.

The sound doesn't stop. It's too loud. It sounds like it's right next to me.

What if it is?

It isn't. If my cybernetic eye can't find anything, then there's no one there.

What if there is?

Shut up!

Time crawls by slowly. The storm stops after what seems like an eternity, but the sound of footsteps doesn't. Climbing out of the cave, I scan the area for any heat signatures. Nothing shows up, no matter where I look.

Then the sound suddenly stops. Are they dead? Resting?

My hand trembles, a tingling feeling in my legs as my breathing starts to get erratic again. I dart back into the cave, hairpin clutched tightly in my hand.

The sound of footsteps comes back.

"Shut up!" I scream as I clutch my head, grabbing fistfuls of my short hair in hopes that it'll stop the sounds.

I curl up against the wall of the cave, the gravel on the floor digging into the fabric of my pants, my grip loosening around the hairpin. It drops to the floor with a soft "thud".

My eyelids start to droop, my head falling against my knees. Then the sound of footsteps fades in again, causing my head to jolt right back up. Then it fades back out, as if taunting me.

Shut up, or I'll kill you.

I toss and turn on the gravel floor, my hands covering my ears, fading in and out of sleep.

I can't sleep. Someone could catch me off-guard and kill me.

Yet, despite my protests, I eventually find myself passed out on the rough floor of the cave.

When I wake up, my hand immediately darts out to find the hairpin, grabbing fistfuls of gravel, searching frantically for the cool metal that somewhat reassures me. When my hand closes around the golden hairpin, the tension in my shoulders melts away and I find myself clutching the hairpin to my chest like it's my lifeline.

It's strangely silent. The sound of footsteps is gone. Maybe they took the chance to run away.

But they could still be there. Waiting for the perfect time to strike. Or worse. They could be dead. That means there's more out there.

It's dark outside. It always is. But when I look out this time, the night is clear and blinking lights illuminate the night sky. The sky isn't black, it's navy, peppered with little white dots. There's a patch that's particularly bright, clusters of stars forming big bright clumps in the sky. 

Then my eyes catch a glimpse of green. Floating through the sky like very big, long snakes. They cast the slightest green glow on the ground, showing the silhouettes of dismembered bodies strewn over the floor, my cybernetic eye zooming in to one with the legs severed from the torso, intestines spilling out of the body, the lights casting a sickly green glow on it, outlining every ridge of the exposed tissue, glossy from rainwater. I feel the vomit rise up in my throat at the sight, slapping the side of my head to get the eye back to its original state. 

I can't vomit. I can't waste water. Or food. Who knows how long I'll have to survive off of my limited supplies. 

I couldn't look at the face. I know I'll only see fear in its eyes, frozen in time. Like the girl who I killed. Heh. I say it so casually now.

The sound of gravel shifting breaks the peaceful silence. When I peek my head to look outside, I see the silhouette of a body sliding down the slope of the base of the mountain. I freeze. Every muscle in my body tenses up. My hand tightens around the hairpin in my hand. I can almost feel the scars on my face hurting at the sight.

It's the animal that attacked me when I went out of the shield. Its blood spills down the slope of the mountain. 

That could've been me. If the animal was somewhere above the cave...

My legs tense, ready to run should the monster wake up. Its body is lifeless, but I don't want another cybernetic eye. My breath stills. Everything's silent. Too silent. Someone must've injured or killed the animal. And they must be good with a knife. 

I head back inside my cave to take the sniper. I try to lift it so that it won't make a sound on the gravel, but my heavy footsteps do that anyways. 

My cybernetic eye scans up the mountain. The starlight makes it a little easier to see. My shoulders strain as I hug the sniper close, it seems to be the easiest way to carry it. Before I can see any heat signatures, I hear muttered curses and coughs. Gravel slides down the slope as I follow the sound to an area with a few rocks clustered together. Dark blood spills down the slope, coating the gravel. Holding my sniper up by the front like an axe, I turn the corner only to find a teenage boy, around my age, lying on his back, blood spilling out of a slash wound in his chest, his hand clutched tightly around a bloodstained knife. 

My first instincts are to save him. To press my hands on the wound to stop the bleeding. But my first instincts could get me killed. He won't make it anyways. There's no medical attention for these kinds of injuries. Besides, from past experiences, everyone wants to kill me.

The boy's eyes widen. As a silent threat or plead for mercy, I don't know. But I see the subtle shift in his legs, the way his hand clenches around the knife, and I swing the sniper, the rear end crashing into his face, sending blood splattering into mine.

I don't care. I keep swinging the sniper into his face, again and again, until his hand goes limp around the knife. I then flip him over onto his back, before swinging the sniper at the back of his head. 

Blood pools around my boots. I press two fingers to the side of his neck, and I'm very relieved to feel no pulse. I leave his body there, before carefully making my way back down the slope. Everything's silent again, besides the occasional sound of a mine going off a distance away.

He wouldn't have made it. I was giving him mercy.

But my intention wasn't to give him mercy. I was just scared. You can never be too careful. Everyone wants to kill you. Even stupid injured teenage boys who just killed an animal.

Thankfully, the animal's body is still in its original position, lifeless right outside my cave. Just for good measure, I push my hairpin into its neck, not daring to watch as blood spurts out and flows down the mountain.

I head back into my cave, throwing my sniper down to the ground, its rear grip stained with blood. An enemy's blood. I close my eyes for a moment, hoping to find some peace, but all I see is the slash wounds across the boy's chest and the blood caked on his face.

I look out at the stars illuminating the navy blue sky, the green lights that exposed the bodies of the dead. It's beautiful. But it's a constant reminder that people are dying out here. People are getting killed. 

And whose fault is that?

The Mars Council's. It's not mine. It's not mine. IT'S NOT MINE.

I had no choice. Everyone here wants to kill me. 

Under different circumstances, the stars, the lights...they would bring me comfort. But not now. Here...in Control...there is no peace. There is no comfort.

Into The Dark is an original story that I came up with and is currently ongoing

its a some dystopian stuff that I abandoned lol

Our Own Choices

Chapter 4

Separatist attack! After the destruction of the outpost on the Rishi moon, General Grievous and Asajj Ventress plan an attack on the planet Kamino, home of the cloning factories. Meanwhile, aboard a Jedi cruiser, Jedi knights Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi examine an intercepted message from General Grievous.

Rex comes into the barracks soon enough, and I'm showing Fives and Echo this new song on the holonet called "Toxic" from Boywithuke when Rex walks in. My helmet's sitting at the side, I trust Fives and Echo enough to not reveal my secret to the Kaminoans.

When Rex walks in, Fives and Echo stand at attention and I'm just leaning against the wall behind them.

"I'm guessing you have something to tell us?" I ask Rex.

"Mhm. Separatists are planning an attack on Kamino. We're going home."

And then Rex walks out of the room.

"Kamino?! This just got personal," Fives says, Echo agrees with him.

"I'm guessing I'm gonna be the only one out of you three looking at the bigger picture and not just personally," I roll my eyes. "As much as I hate that place, if it's destroyed, the production of more clones will be stopped, and we will definitely lose the war and all of us will die."

"Hey, you're not the only one looking at the bigger picture," Fives nudges me in the side.

Soon enough, we head out of the jedi cruiser with the other troopers, as usual I'm walking behind the rest, my helmet on.

So we take a stroll through Kamino, a place that I never wanted to go back to.

"Ah, look around Fives. Feels like yesterday we were here," Echo says as a group of younger clones pass us. "Heading to target practice."

"Heh, remember that?"

"Do I ever."

"Feels like yesterday I was here, heading to cleaning duty," I mutter under my breath.

And then in front of us I see 99, struggling with carrying a few guns, dropping a few on the floor. I run over and help him pick some up, he doesn't recognize me with the helmet on.

"Hey, 99!" Echo calls out.

Well, 99 can recognize them, but not me.

"Heh, you actually remembered us," Fives sounds slightly impressed.

"Oh, I remember all my brothers. Is Hevy here? Where's he?"

I don't even think he remembers me.

"Hevy's dead. Sacrificed himself on the Rishi outpost," I explain for Echo and Fives. I can talk about his death so casually now, I get over these kinds of things quite quickly.

"He saved our lives, but he gave up his own," Echo continues.

"Oh, uh, I see," 99 says, showing Echo and Fives some random medal thing that they probably got in the past.

"Hevy...gave you his medal?" Fives asks.

99 closes his eyes for a moment, before asking,"So, why have you returned to Kamino?"

"Wasn't my choice," I tell him. My helmet's still on, I can't take it off with all the Kaminoans and other troopers here.

"The Generals received word of an impending attack here," Fives explains.

"Well, how can I help?"

Fives and Echo give each other a look before nodding at each other, and they tell 99 the plan.

"So uh, 99, do you remember...me?" I ask.

"Not with your helmet on," 99 replies. "Why not you take it off? We're safe for now."

"Not safe for me. I have no interest in going back to cleaning duty."

"It's you...you're that female clone, aren't you? So...you're a soldier now?"

I nod. "Keep your voice down, we don't want others to hear that."

"Oh right, sorry," 99 whispers. "So are you gonna join those...yknow...group of different clones?"

"You mean the ipad kid, the one with dog shit for hair, the buff af one, and the old man?"

Fives and Echo hold in their laughter, but I can see it on their faces.

99 chuckles, "Yea, you ever thought about maybe joining them?"

I think for a moment, and as I'm about to reply, the lighting turns red, signaling an attack. I see other troopers running to the front, and Fives and Echo are called in by the commander, and I follow them.

We reach the dude that sent for Fives and Echo. 

"Sir, you sent for us?"

"It's a dangerous assignment, but I want you two up on the bridge in sniper positions."

"Yes sir, we're on it."

And then as Fives and Echo head up to the bridge, the dude stops me before I can run off with them. 

"Aren't you a bit young to be fighting?" he asks. "Get in there with the others."

"With all due respect sir, I can handle myself," I say. "Besides, someone's gotta cover Fives and Echo." Without waiting for a response, I run off to the bridge.

I can hear the blaster fire already starting, I don't look back, I just keep running.

I reach Fives and Echo, where they're dealing with some of the droids already. I narrowly miss a blaster bolt to the face, and take cover next to them.

"There's gotta be a better defensive position than this, this place is shitty to snipe from," I say as I start shooting at the droids down below.

I see 99 coming up behind us. "I...I brought you some ammo," he says, dropping the bag on his shoulder.

"Is there a better spot than this, a better defensive position we can take?" Fives asks.

"Droids! Behind us!" Echo shouts, and Fives pushes 99 to the ground to let him take cover.

I notice that there are grenades in the bag that 99 was carrying, which is now lying on the ground, so I take one of them from the bag and throw it at the droids.

The grenade explodes on contact, knocking all the droids down. 

"There's more," 99 says, pointing at where the smoke is clearing.

Echo, Fives and I point our blasters at that area, until I see some kids walking out. They look like 12 year olds, 2 years younger than me.

"Cadets, what're you doing here?" Echo asks.

"We got separated from our group," one of the kids says.

"Where were they taking you?"

"The barracks."

"Oh, I know the best way there," 99 says, and we all follow him as he half-runs to the barracks.

We reach the barracks and the kids sit down on the beds.

"What are we gonna do?" one of them asks.

Fives and Echo look down at the floor.

"A separatist victory means...death...for all of us," 99 says.

"Oh hell nah I have no interest in dying today," I lean against a wall.

"The cadet is right. What are we gonna do?" 99 asks.

"We fight."

I look to the side, and see commander Cody and Rex taking off their helmets.

"Ayyy Rex, what took you so long?" I ask when I see him. Rex rolls his eyes. 

The cadets stand up. "But our training's not finished."

Fives steps forward. "Look around. We're one and the same. Same heart, same blood. Your training is in your blood. And my blood's boiling for a fight."

"That's one of the most useful things you've said today," I nudge Fives in the side.

"This is our home. This is our war," Echo says.

"What about weapons?" one of the cadets asks.

"The armory," 99 suggests. "It's just a few corridors away, here in the barracks. I can retrieve all the firepower we need. So who wants to blast some droids?"

Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo and I give a downwards nod of respect to 99 and Rex, Cody and I head to the armory with 99.

"Here it is, everything we need is here," 99 says, he's panting a bit. 

Rex and Cody get some weapons and I get a few pistols, a few grenades, and just stuff them on my belt, running out of the room and passing a few to the cadets.

"What about you?" one of them asks as I hand them my second last pistol.

"I only need 1 pistol."

I hear one of the droids shooting at the door to the barracks, and as the door opens, we start shooting at them through the door. As the droids advance, we back up, finding whatever cover we can get behind boxes or the beds.

I hear some blaster bolts whizz past my shoulder, and I take cover with Fives and Echo, shooting at the droids. As they advance, we continue backing up, taking some more cover behind the boxes. Rex throws a grenade at the droids, which misses, and I can feel the force of the explosion from here.

"Cadets, now!" Rex shouts into the comlink and the cadets start shooting at the droids from the high ground where they were initially hidden from view. They manage to knock down quite a few droids, making it much easier.

Cody throws another grenade at the droids, and as the smoke clears, more droids start coming in.

I hear 99 get shot, and he's tryna make his way to the armory. I run towards the droids, strafing so that I avoid blaster fire, and I try to slice up the droids as fast as I can with my sword, and when Fives and Echo help me shoot down the last one, I look back and I see 99's body on the floor. It feels like someone tightened their grip on my stomach, and I run to 99, kneeling beside him as Echo holds him in his arms.

"We..." Cody sighs. "Lost a true soldier."

"He really was one of us."

I bite my lip under my helmet, I can feel the tears coming but I don't let them flow, so I just walk away and sit on one of the beds, looking away, softly singing under my helmet to distract myself from 99's body. ("Toxic" from Boywithuke my new fav song lmao)

Later, all of us start walking out to the outdoor platform, the battle has ended. I'm leaning against a wall, watching Echo and Fives do their thing. I still have the grenades clipped to my belt, I'm throwing my knife up in the air and catching it, just like I always do.

I see Rex motioning for me to come over with Echo and Fives, and we all stand at attention (I'm just following what Echo and Fives are doing, just because I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)

"You all really stepped up in the heat of battle," Cody says.

"We did what we had to do, sir," Echo says.

"What any clone would've done," Fives continues.

"All of you showed valor out there. Real courage. Reminds me of me, actually," Rex says.

"Don't flatter yourself, we all already know," I smirk under my helmet, Rex chuckles a bit, looking at me.

"Echo, Fives, Aris, you're officially being made ARC troopers," Cody says. Echo looks at Fives, and we're all kind of a bit in shock.

"I don't think the Separatists will be coming back anytime soon," Rex says. "But if they do, Kamino will be lucky to have clones like you defending it. Good job, men."

Rex and Cody salute and Fives and Echo does the same, so I just follow them.

As I walk away with Rex, he pats me on the back. "Good job ad'ika."

"Rex, I don't wanna be an ARC trooper," I say quietly.

"Why not?" Rex looks confused.

"Too many expectations. I'm not like Fives or Echo. I'm just a kid. And besides, I don't deserve this, 99 does."

"Kid, 99's-"

"Dead, yea I know, and I've accepted that, just don't make me an ARC trooper, okay?"

Rex sighs. "Okay, ad'ika."

I nod at him. "Thanks dad."

Rex chuckles a bit.

"Okay fine, you can call me that."