They Call Themselves The Bad Batch

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"This is the third time you have been in my office this week," Dr. Lima Ta said as she scanned through her datapad. The dimly lit room felt stale and cold. Too clean. Too tight. The walls were a stark, pale white, and the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting off them made them look like they were made of plastic, "and this is the-" the long-necked Kaminoan looked down at her datapad and swiped a few times to find the file she was searching for, "fifth squad we have placed you in. Yet you still can't seem to stay in one spot, can you EC-8538?"

The clone stayed silent, scowling.

"We are going to give you one more chance," Dr. Lima Ta continued, "and if you mess this up, it's over. You will be decommissioned or placed in maintenance with 99."

It wouldn't have been the first time she'd be on clean-up duty.

"I can understand to an extent fitting into a squad can be difficult with your mutation-"

"As I told you Doc," the clone interrupted. "I'm not the one who starts these fights. But I also don't just sit back and let myself get beaten to a pulp. So if you want to 'understand' me, go talk to the ones who start it." Lifting a hand, she pulled back her purple hair and sat up straighter as she stared the Kaminoan in the eyes.

"There is one more squad I want you to meet," said Dr. Lima Ta, ignoring her outburst, "Clone Force 99 will be waiting for you in training room 1637." The clone stayed silent. "I suggest you get going." That was the only dismal Twitch needed. She abruptly stood up and whisked out of the small dark office. The sterile, stark halls of Topica City greeted her once again by piercing her retinas. She clenched her fists as she made her way down to the sim room. Clone Force 99. She had never heard of them, though the 99 at the end caught her attention. 99 as in the maintenance clone? The first defect? She would find out soon enough. Twitch huffed as she made the left that led to the room. She was well enough ready to leave Kamino. Put her in a random battalion, hell, maybe even the 501st. She just wanted out. They had wasted too much of her time on Kamino for her liking. She was a clone, different yes, but still a clone nonetheless. Bred and trained for combat, not to be a lab scrabber, and she was stuck on this rock they called home. What was so special about this squad? Why were they giving her one more chance? Just so they could tell her 'I told you so'?

Soon enough, she reached the doors of training room 1637. Twitch sighed, ran a hand through her hair, and stepped through the doors. Four clones stood close to each other, speaking and laughing. Something was different about these clones. The one with long hair that was definitely outside of regulations turned to look at her. He didn't look like typical reg, with a longer face, crooked nose, and a skull tattoo? She wasn't one to question it. The others turned to see her and she quickly realized these were not regular clones. Their armor was unique to every member, something she had never seen before. Even the helmets were different. The tallest was give or take 6'6" and muscular. The other two were about 6'4". One had white hair with a crosshair tattoo over his left eye. The other had what she could only describe as goggles wrapped around his face.

There were more clones like her? Experimental rejects who didn't fit the norm? Why hadn't she been put in with them in the first place?

"Ah, you must be our new recruit," the clone with the face tattoo stepped forward, offering his hand to shake, "I'm Sergeant Hunter. That's Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech."

"Twitch." She took his hand firmly and grabbed his wrist.

"Nice to have you."

She simply nodded, unsure of what to say, mind still reeling.

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