Our Own Choices

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.

Layers

(Art is by my friend soap)

Chapter 1: The Waterfall

Warnings: None

Genre: Fantasy/Short Story

The limestone rocks dig into my already peeling fingers as I grasp another hold, hauling myself up to the edge of the cliff. I’m greeted by the sight of lush green trees looming over me, shielding me from the sun’s rays. I look behind me, reveling in the view of the sparkling blue ocean. 

“I’ll explore up here and abseil down in a bit!” I shout down at the person belaying me, taking a few steps into the cluster of trees before untying the rope from my harness. 

I set my bag down next to a tree, collapsing down onto a soft bed of leaves, inhaling that sweet familiar forest smell I recognise from home. I sigh as I lean back against the tree, staring out at the islands clustered together around the one I’m at. It’s so much better than being in the city. There, the constant need for caution strangles me, but here, the freedom comforts me.

It’s been 10 years since my parents divorced. I think I’m coping well. At least, I hope so. Climbing’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.

I wish I could stay here forever. 

I stuff my water bottle back into my bag, zipping it up and throwing it over my shoulders, before standing up and walking into the maze of trees that stands in front of me.

For a cliff, there’s a hefty number of trees up here. I keep walking for a few minutes, the thick canopy blocking most sunlight. Tree roots litter the ground, threatening to trip me every few steps. 

I hear birds singing. Perhaps there’s a nest nearby, with eggs inside. I wonder if they’d taste good. 

As I continue walking on, the singing of the birds starts to get drowned out by what sounds like a…waterfall? I don’t recall ever seeing a waterfall on the map. The leaves crunch under my footsteps. Until I realise they aren’t leaves anymore. They’re bones. Not human bones, but eerily similar. 

I should probably head back.

I turn around to walk back to the cliff, but a little voice in my head tells me to keep going.

What do you have to lose anyways?

Besides my life and my money?

Could be fun. Don’t be a wimp.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I continue walking ahead. The bones staring from the ground sending shivers down my spine. The sound of the waterfall keeps getting louder. A few moments later, I stop in my tracks.

I’m greeted with a black frame with its interior glowing a dull blue. The waterfall sounds seem to be coming from inside. The frame is covered with vines which hang over the blue light of the portal. The pulsing portal seemed to emit a mysterious yet inviting aura, and I can’t help but unconsciously drift towards it. 

Excuse me, what?! Um…I should probably go now before I get sucked in and die.

As I turn around and take my first step away from the portal, I feel a sharp tug at my core and I find myself plummeting down a waterfall, water splashing into my eyes and mouth and nose, barely any time to scream as I hit a pool of water feet-first, plunging into the dark depths. Yet it’s surprisingly warm. 

I quickly swim up, hanging onto my bag as I break the surface, taking a gasp of air.

It smells sweet. Like rainwater. Glowing blue flowers float on the surface of the pool, seemingly undisturbed by the cascade of water just a few meters away. In fact, the whole pool seems undisturbed. Bag in hand, I swim over to land and haul myself up, scanning my surroundings, still shaken from the fall.

What…was that…?

The terrain is vibrant. Too vibrant. Layers of red and white and teal and blue form the cliffside that the waterfall flows down from. 

Am I dreaming?

I pinch myself to check, my heart rate skyrocketing as I feel the pain. 

No no no... This isn’t good. I need to get back.

I run a few steps backwards, hoping to get a good view of whatever I just feel through, but all I see is an empty black frame. It would be too risky to free climb back up, especially since this is unknown territory.

The ground looks a somewhat like a staircase. Layer after layer of vibrant-coloured rocks lead down to a little village in the distance. Trying to calm my nerves and failing miserably, I sling my bag over my shoulders and head down the “stairs”, towards the village. 

The sky is painted yellow and orange and red, as if the sun is setting. But I see no sun. It will probably get dark soon. I start to pick up the pace as I worry about what may come out in the night, despite the seemingly peaceful surroundings. 

The colourful gravel crunches beneath my feet. But soon, the ground starts to even out. The layers start to disappear, leaving flat ground for me to walk smoothly on. Night has fallen, the sky now a dark blue spreading as far as I can see. 

The gravel slowly starts to turn into a tiled path. There are houses on both sides of the path, their lights giving off a warm yellow glow. I smell sugar donuts coming from a short building that has the words “Baked Stuff” on it.

My stomach growls.

I want donuts.

I head into the building, a little golden bell that’s connected to the door ringing as I walk in. 

“Welcome!” a…human-shaped mass of stone says. Its arms and legs look exactly like the cliff with the waterfall. I blink, pinching myself again to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“Um…hi,” I wave awkwardly at the stone person.

“Prices are stated here,” the stone person says, pointing to the little pieces of paper with a number written on them.

“I’m sorry…but what is the currency here, and how do I get some?” I ask.

The stone person narrows its eyes. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

It knows?!

I stand still, my eyes scanning the stone person up and down, looking out for any threats, body tensing up.

“...Yes…” I say with a strained voice.

The stone person bursts out laughing. “Look at your face!” It doubles over, clutching its abdomen, before regaining its composure and standing up straight. It’s slightly shorter than me with its short, stubby legs. It passes me a donut with some blue glowing cookie crumbs on it. 

“Here. It’s on the house. Made from Waterfall Flowers,” it says, and I take the donut, hesitantly taking a bite.

The sweet yet sour flavour explodes on my tongue, and it reminds me of lemon sorbet. 

“Good, isn’t it?” the stone person asks, the rocks on its face moving to form something resembling a smile. I nod, my mouth full.

“If you’re looking for a place to stay for the night, there’s an inn a few houses down. Tell the receptionist that you’re my friend and you should get a free room. Have a good night!” the stone person calls as I walk out of the shop, waving goodbye. “Thank you!”

I walk down the path, devouring the donut in a few bites, before reaching the inn. Another stone person stands at the reception, little blue glowing rocks embedded in its body. 

“Hi…uh…I'm friends with the person at the bakery…she said I could get a free room here?” I walk up to the counter, avoiding eye contact. 

“Oh? Sure! Yours is room 130,” the receptionist says, passing me a glowing blue flower.

I take the flower, unsure of what to do with it, but not daring to question the receptionist. Something feels off about these people. It probably doesn’t help that they’re made out of literal stone.

Soon, I reach room 130, finding a flower-shaped lock on the door. I press the flower into the lock, causing it to glow before the door swings open in front of me. 

The room is carpeted, a single bed in the middle and a toilet near the entrance. Without hesitation, I throw my bag to the floor and fall onto the bed, letting the softness hug me to sleep.

When I wake up, I’m no longer in the room. Layers of rock press against my back. Glowing blue vines immobilise me. I hear the waterfall.

What’s going on?!

I struggle futilely against the vines. It smells sweet. Almost too sweet. Panic starts to set deep in my gut, rendering me frozen.

Some of the rocks on the walls slide down next to me, clinging to the vines almost as if trying not to fall. A few move to box me in against the cliff, forming a large humanoid shape. Little blue lights decorate its surface. 

A collection of voices ring out simultaneously. I hear the shop owner and receptionist’s voice, along with a few others I don’t recognise.

“Hehe. You really are like the others.” 

ITS SO CUTE AAAA

Ayo new bad batch reaction image just dropped

(im too lazy to type it out again)

happy bad batch eve-

WAIT NOOOOOOO

im still not over tbb :(

Our Own Choices

Chapter 15

Warnings: Violence, swearing, possibly blood

When we all return to the Marauder, Tech takes a look at the lightsaber wound on my arm, applying some cooling burn cream and injecting some sort of medicine into the wound, before bandaging it up.

"Thanks," I sigh as the cream numbs the burning feeling.

"You do not need to thank me. It is standard protocol that wounds are tended to after a mission," Tech replies without even looking at me, typing away at his datapad, before heading to the pilot's seat.

I sit at the back seat with Echo, Tech and Wrecker had them installed when we went for a quick supply run shortly after I joined them. 

Gonky waddles over to me from the back, making some "gonk" sounds, which I understand as "Is your arm okay?" I smile and pat Gonky on the head. "I'm fine."

He seems to enjoy the gesture as he nudges me a little with his metal body. I take off my helmet and pat Gonky on the head again, breathing in the scent of the ship as I lean back in my chair. I can never get sick of the smell. The familiarity of Echo's scent, that minty one from Crosshair, the dirt from Hunter because he always sniffs it like it's cocaine, gunpowder for Wrecker, and Tech smells like the 501st barracks if the air was sour. Hunter says I smell like chlorine. I love the smell, it feels so welcoming, almost like the 501st, but in a different way.

I put my helmet back on as I remember that I'm supposed to act like a "good soldier" who "follows orders" to gain Crosshair's trust and maybe help him remove his chip like how Fives did.

I sigh as we take off for Kamino. If order 66 was issued, most Jedi would be dead by now.

Even General Skywalker.

At least Commander Tano left the order, so she should be safe.

How's Rex? Will he be back on Kamino? Is he okay? Should I comm him?

Echo puts a hand on my shoulder, noticing my worry. As much as I try to hide it, he's known me long enough to notice the little habits I do when I'm worried.

"Ad'ika, everything's going to okay," he says, looking at me with a slight smile.

"I'm just worried about Rex. Maybe I should comm him-"

"You can do it when we get back to Kamino."

I sigh at the mention of our home planet. I never wanted to go back there. Never wanted to go back to the white, sterile prison I escaped from just before the war started. But hey, it's not like I have much of a choice.

I keep my helmet on throughout the journey. It's more comfortable, really. No one gets to see my face in case I commit a war crime or something. Crosshair and Hunter fall asleep on their seats while I turn on the music from my datapad and connect it to the earpiece in my helmet, listening to Avicii music.

After a few hours of finding a bunch of music to listen to, I hear Tech say, "We are coming up on Kamino." 

I switch off the music, still keeping my helmet on.

"It's good to be home. How long has it been?" Wrecker asks.

Not good to be home. And 180 rotations based on their schedule. 

"180 rotations in a standard cycle, but galactic zone changes but the adjusted figure at around 205."

Oh. Damn.

"Wut?" Wrecker asks.

Are you that stupid?

Echo sighs. "A long time." He sounds so fed up, rolling his eyes when Wrecker agrees.

I sit behind Hunter and Crosshair, listening in on every conversation. I notice Crosshair turning to look at Hunter, who responds, eyes closed, with a "What?"

"You sure that Padawan died when he fell?"

"Sure I'm sure. Why?" Hunter opens his eyes as he talks.

"Well, usually when someone falls you look down, not across."

"Well some of us don't like to watch," Hunter replies as he stands up and walks to where Echo, Tech and Wrecker are. Crosshair and I remain at the back, I silently observe as he crosses his arms. 

I hear thunder crashing from outside the ship, and it shakes me to my core. Only Kamino thunder sounds like that. I remember hiding in my bunk every night, trying to drown out the sounds of waves crashing against the supports. My squadmates laughing at me for being a coward, saying it was because I was defective.

One of the days the storms were much worse than usual. The thunder too loud for my liking, I could almost feel the waves reaching to the platform. I was sneaking out of my barracks, when I saw 99 carrying blasters to the weapon storage area.

"Hey Aris," he called out when he noticed me. "What're you doing still up?"

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted. "Thunder was too loud."

99 puts the blasters he was carrying to the side and puts his arm around my shoulder, guiding me into the barracks where the rest of my sleeping squadmates are.

"Cmon kid, let's get you to bed."

I climb into my bunk as another crash of thunder startles me, and I curl up into a ball in my bunk.

"Everything's going to be okay kid. Just relax and think of something else," 99 says as he puts the blanket over me, tucking me into bed. I smile up at him. "Thanks 99."

He gives me a short nod, his half-smile making the wrinkles on his face even more pronounced as he walks out.

That night I had the best sleep of my life.

And now 99's dead. And I'm all grown up. I sigh as I push the urge to cry down and focus on the present.

"Unidentified transport, transmit your clearance code," A voice from the front of the ship says.

"Clearance code? Don't they know who we are?" Echo asks.

"Must be a protocol drill," Tech replies. "Transmitting clearance code."

"Authorization confirmed. Proceed to landing bay one-tac-one."

Tech pilots the ship into the landing bay. The door of the ship opens and Hunter and Tech walk out first, with me following behind them. If I'm in the middle, hopefully no one will notice the new addition to the squad. Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair walk out behind me, all of their helmets off except me and Crosshair's.

Clones patrol the landing bay, and I spot the familiar crimson armor of the Coruscant Guard troopers. I scoff at the sight.

Fucking Coruscant Guard. Murdered a good soldier who just tried to do his duty. I would kill them any day.

"Shock troopers? What's the Coruscant Guard doing here?" Hunter's voice interrupts my silent trash talking of the Coruscant Guard. 

Oh. Right. Forgot they were supposed to be on Coruscant.

"Level five lockdown remains in effect. Security teams, report to the command center." A voice on the speakers says.

Lockdown? For what? Kamino doesn't look like it's in any danger.

"This isn't a drill," Tech observes.

How perceptive.

"Aw man. What did we miss now?" Wrecker sounds disappointed.

"The end of the war," a random shock trooper answers. 

"Say that again, trooper?" Hunter asks.

"General Grievous was defeated on Utapau. The separatist leadership has collapsed. The war is over."

"Just like I said," Tech says. 

Of course. He's usually right.

Wrecker gasps dramatically. "It is just like you said."

I roll my eyes at Wrecker's comment as I watch troopers carry a body laid out on a stretcher covered by a piece of cloth.

A body? On Kamino? No battles happened recently...

A lightsaber falls out from under the cloth and onto the floor.

A Jedi.

So I was right. Most of the Jedi are dead.

The shock trooper picks the lightsaber up from the floor as the rest of the batch look at each other with a look that says, "something's not right".

"Is there a problem?" The shock trooper asks.

"No...problem. We'll just head to our barracks then," Hunter says, looking back at the rest of us for a moment before walking off, with the rest of us following.

"Best hurry. There's a mandatory general assembly at 1500," the shock trooper says.

We walk through the sterile, almost blinding white hallways of Kamino. I instinctively stay close to Echo, not to the point of looking like a clingy child, but still within half a meter radius of him.

Echo looks back at me. "You okay?"

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. "Yeah. I just...never thought I'd find myself back here. Again." It's my way of saying, "I don't want to be back here. I'm so scared." 

Echo gives me a short nod, which is his way of saying, "Everything's going to be okay" in public. We pass rows of troopers marching towards somewhere, in an almost robotic way.

"It's not just the clones on Kaller," Hunter says. "All the regs are acting strange." Tech looks around. "Let's test that theory." He proceeds to walk up to a random clone and asks, "Excuse me, trooper. What division are you from?"

Obviously annoyed, the clone elbows him in the side with his blaster. "Step aside."

"Oh, well they seem the same to me."

"I'm not surprised. I'd be annoyed too," I speak up, trying to lighten the mood. No one replies.

We reach their barracks and the moment the door opens, I'm greeted with the scent of oil, rotting food, and sweat. I scrunch up my nose under my helmet.

Tech walks in first, then Wrecker, who exclaims how it's good to be back while setting his helmet on a crate.

"The smell's getting worse," Echo comments.

"You're still new. You'll get used to it," Hunter reassures him, patting him on the shoulder. Crosshair pushes past the both of them. "Speak for yourself."

I hesitantly walk into the barracks, the smell gets stronger when I enter. I look around, observing my surroundings. It's quite messy, Tech has a bunch of random parts scattered on the table, Echo has a hammock at the side, and Crosshair's bunk has crates in front of it to block people from entering it.

This is the first time I'm entering their barracks. The last time they went back to Kamino I refused to go, and they went to pick me up in a few days. Those few days were the best of my life.

Crosshair goes to sit on the crates blocking his bunk while the rest of them go to sit at the table in the middle of the room. Wrecker marks the board for the number of missions we completed.

Still keeping my helmet on by instinct, I walk over to Crosshair, who's currently chewing on a toothpick, helmet off.

"Um. Can I have one?" I awkwardly gesture to the toothpick in his mouth.

"No," he replies. "Go away."

"Look we need to get you to the medbay right now or as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"Because there's an inhibitor chip in your head which basically makes you follow orders blindly and it's working for all the other clones except us but it's working for you and-"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not you carried out Order 66 and-"

"Shut up," he says in a dangerously low tone. My temper starts to flare up.

"Make me."

Crosshair stands up from the crates and cracks his knuckles, ready to draw his knife if things escalate. I draw my knife and get into a fighting stance.

"Woah woah woah. Easy," Hunter says as he pushes us apart. I glare at Crosshair, and he glares back. Not breaking eye contact, I sheathe my knife and shove Crosshair over just for good measure before heading over to sit next to Echo. 

"11 more successful missions," Wrecker says with a grin. "Like there was any doubt." He goes to sit on his bunk, picking up his tooka doll.

"Kaller wasn't a win," Echo says. 

"Says who? We completed our objective."

"Not every objective," Crosshair speaks up, picking up his rifle and examining it. I draw my sword from my back and start sharpening it absentmindedly, just needing something to do with my hands. 

"Hunter let that Jedi kid escape. Or do you want to keep lying to us?"

Hunter stands up and looks out the window. "I don't like to think of executing our commanders as a mission objective."

Crosshair stands up from his position on the crates. 

"An order is an order."

"Since when?"

They glare at each other for a moment before Echo breaks the tension. "None of this makes sense. Those clones served alongside General Bilaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?!"

"Because of the regs' programming," Tech speaks up.

"What programming?" Hunter breaks his death stare at Crosshair to ask.

"It's been well documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the cognitive functions of clones-"

"To engineer them to follow orders without question," I finish. Tech glares at me like I just committed a horrible war crime.

"Ha! We sure don't!" Wrecker shouts, assaulting Crosshair with his tooka doll.

"Obviously we are different. They manipulated pre-existing aberrations in our DNA resulting in your brute strength, Crosshair's sharpshooting skills..." Lucky son of a bitch. "...Hunter's enhanced senses and my exceptional mind. My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming. Though I can't be 100% certain of it.

"Well Crosshair isn't and he's in fucking denial," I say with a sarcastic smile underneath my helmet. Crosshair is walking over to probably punch me in the face when Echo gives him a glare which makes him back off. He knows how protective my ori'vod can be. 

"What about Echo? He was a reg before he joined us. And Aris," Hunter asks.

"Well see guys Echo was probably damaged on Skako Minor because look at him right now no offence ori'vod, and since I'm an actual defect they probably didn't even bother I mean they were gonna terminate me anyways," I laugh under my helmet. Echo pats my shoulder. "Good thing they didn't then."

"All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic," a voice says over the speakers.

"This is one meeting I don't want to miss," Hunter says, walking to the door.

"First time for everything," Tech comments as we all head to the staging area. Troopers stand in neat rows, helmets on as they stare up at the holotransmission of a hooded figure, they look almost robotic. The thought of their individuality...Fives and Echo's chaotic nature, Hardcase's constant urge to shoot something, Uncle Wolffe's sarcasm, Rex's parental instincts, all gone...it gives me chills. I'm hardly paying attention until I hear the word "Jedi".

"...And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" The hooded figure says. "The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed."

"You can say that again," Wrecker says. I almost burst out laughing.  

"But I assure you, my resolve has never been stronger! In order to ensure the security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the FIRST GALACTIC EMPIRE! For a safe and secure society."

Galactic Empire????? Man the Republic sounded so much better though-

Everyone starts cheering, except me and the batch. What's so exciting about Jedi getting killed? Right. Must be the inhibitor chip.

I look around to try and find any 501st members. None here. I'll comm Rex later. Right now, I need to focus on getting Crosshair's chip out.

I sigh as I glance at Echo, who looks equally confused as me.

"Ori'vod?" I turn to Echo.

"Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you in the barracks later. It's about Fives."

He lets out a sigh. "Okay vod'ika." 

a/n: IM BACK IN THE HOUSE BOISSSSSSS

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.

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."

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

THE WAY HE SAYS HER NAME HES SO WORRIED FOR HER

"this is our chance."