To Heal Poignancy ■ TECH - The Bad Batch ■

The Island of Misfit Toys

Adla's heart pounded rapidly in her chest. A roaring sound crashed through both eardrums, muting the world around her. She felt her hands grow sweaty, which resulted in her having to constantly change her grip on the blaster. She felt the sweat from her nerves drip down the back of her neck.

Perhaps she was the laserbrain. She clambered onto the shuttle and was instantly reminded of how short she was. There was no way her plan would work. The trooper hadn't been that short when he departed from the group. They would notice she wasn't their comrade easily. The armor didn't even properly fit. This plan was stupid. If Echo was here, he would definitely be throwing his face into his hands.

"What happened?" A voice ripped her from her anxieties.

She turned to look at the trooper next to her. She let out a small 'huh,' so the trooper repeated himself.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, where'd you get that helmet?" The stormtrooper gestured to her black helmet clipped to her belt.

Oh, she was done for. Rampart curiously looked at them from his spot.

"I found it during my search, abandoned. If it's an insurgent's helmet, I believe it could hold valuable information," Adla responded, her voice lowered an octave.

The stormtrooper visibly paused, then turned his torso towards her. Adla held in a breath. "Are you okay? You sound sick."

Her hands began to tremble. "Fine. I'm fine."

The stormtrooper shrugged. "Alright, if you say so." Then he went back to facing forward. Adla slowly and quietly released her breath so the modulator wouldn't pick it up.

No, no, they still reigned supreme on being laserbrains.

Rampart furrowed his eyebrows as he silently stared at her. She just had the helmet on; there was no way Rampart didn't know it was her. Adla wanted to kick him in the shins and tell him to keep his stupid, loud mouth shut; although, she obviously couldn't do that without getting caught, so she tilted her head and fixed him with a glare from under her helmet. Luckily, he didn't say anything. The man looked exhausted.

During the trip to the base, Adla tried to keep up with what everyone said. Rampart was to be placed in a detaining cell. Now, that Adla could get on board with.

When the ship landed and everyone got out, Adla noticed some clone commandos ID the personnel from the ship the group had attached themselves to. She wondered if Echo got off alright. Or was he detained as well? He didn't have an ID. Did he somehow obtain some? Adla kept her head forward to not cause suspicion.

Luckily, the clone commandos weren't checking the ship she got off of. There was a positive. Who would check the IDs of people who just left to sweep the jungle for intruders and come back with one of said intruders?

When they arrived at the cells, Adla immediately noticed the clones that occupied the entire hallway. The poor men looked absolutely miserable. Their frames were skinnier than the bulky soldiers she was used to seeing, their faces were sunken in, their frowns etched seemingly permanently onto their face, and their eyes portrayed endless bounds of hopelessness.

They needed to get out of here.

A thought crossed Adla's mind. If she hadn't been there to step in, would this have been Crosshair's fate? Would he have the same look of negative finality as these clones? Would he see rescue as impossible?

She couldn't help but think about how glad she was that this wasn't Crosshair's fate. She was incredibly thankful he had been vulnerable enough to finally tell her he wanted to go home. All of that rapport building had paid off in the end.