The Bad Batch

Tal'galar

WARNING: This story may include
violence/death and or graphic material. Read at your own risk.
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Click, click, click, click.

Up, down, left, right.

Click, click, click, click.

"Faster, Omega."

Click, click, click, click.

"Focus, solider!"

Click, click, click, click.

"Again."

Click, click, click, click.

"Again."

Click, click, click, click.

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!

Click, click RIIIIIIINNNNNG!

Omega jumped awake, the alarm piercing through her brain like a hot needle. She sat up and smashed her fist into the small alarm clock like it made of rubber. Taking a breath, the eighteen year old ran a shaky hand through her hair. It was early morning; time for Omega to get up.

Today was mission day.

Omega stood, rubbing her eyes as she wandered into the refresher. After a quick shower, she brushed her short blond hair back and slipped on her under blacks. Next, Omega found her freshly shined armor hanging on its rack. She lifted the plasteroid chest piece over her shoulders, buckling it down near her sides. The leg pieces and cuffs followed. Lastly, the blonde clone reached for her dual DC-17's from their place on the table.

Her hand stopped just above them, hovering for a moment.

"What is that?"

"A gift."

"N-No! P-Please! I didn't do it, I swear! I didn't-"

BANG!

"What are you waiting for? Complete the mission, Omega."

"I didn't see anything, please! Please please please please..."

"Not her! She's innocent! T-Take me instead! Anyone but her..."

Omega snapped back into focus. Her brow twitched, and her body stiffened. She picked up her DC-17's and holstered them without hesitation, ignoring their seemingly heavier presence at her side.

Fully clothed, Omega glanced in the mirror. Her straight black armor shined back at her, it's color reflecting the void of space. Red lines showed through the cracks and edges, dripping like crimson blood all the way down to her feet. With a deep breath, Omega put her helmet on, competing her look. Glaring once at the red visor staring back at her, Omega marched out of the room.

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The halls were quiet and empty. It was too early for anyone else to be up yet, besides the Kaminoans. And her, of course.

Omega walked vigorously down the stark white hall, her boots clanking softly against the too-shiny floor. Up ahead she could see her destination: Nala Se's private office.

Upon reaching it, a hidden scanner beeped and let Omega in. As soon as she stepped in, the door swished shut behind her with a light hiss. The interior of the office was cool like a crisp breeze; soft, yet unwavering. The neat white tiles made no noise beneath her feet as she strode towards the desk at the end of the room.