Work Text:
Precious Asset
Lady JaRuc
“What’d we do wrong that Commander Cody wants to see us,” worried Wrecker as the Batch walked down the corridors of the Venator Star Destroyer Negotiator.
“This could be a mission assignment,” Tech reminded his brother, taking a second to look up from his data pad.
Hunter remained quiet as did Crosshair.
Getting an assignment straight from General Obi-wan Kenobi’s second-in-command was unusual. The Bad Batch most often got orders from Captain Rex, General Skywalker’s second. Hunter wasn’t worried like his bigger brother, simply curious.
The door to the briefing room opened then closed silently behind them. No one else was in the room but Commander Cody. The Batch knew him from other assignments but none quite as mysterious as this one seemed to be.
The four stood at attention before the commander.
“Easy, boys. I have an assignment for you…the retrieval of a precious asset.” Cody rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Those aren’t my words but Senator Amadala’s.”
“She’s hot!” came out of Wrecker’s mouth about the second he realized he shouldn’t have said that aloud. Having three brothers and a commanding officer glare at you emphasized the point.
“Wrecker!” Hunter growled at the man while Tech facepalmed and Crosshair rolled his eyes. Commander Cody simply glared at the big man.
“Sorry…sirs,” Wrecker said quietly to Cody and Hunter.
Hunter took a deep breath, aware Wrecker’s and Cody’s heartbeats thumped faster than normal. In an effort to diffuse the situation, Hunter turned to face Cody and asked, “Our assignment, sir?”
“An asset is being held on Thyferra. The fear is that the Separatists are attempting to use this asset to gain allies. Brainwash the asset into spewing propaganda against the Republic. Senator Amadala requested your squad because she’s familiar with how you work—quick and quiet. This is an urgent assignment. I’ll send the coordinates to your ship. Be ready to leave within an hour. The asset has been held for three rotations already. No time to waste. The senator wanted to accompany you, but I assured her that you would work more efficiently if you didn’t have to worry about her safety as well.”
“Got it. Once we get the asset where are we to take it?” Hunter wanted to know.
“Bring the asset directly back here to the Negotiator. Senator Amadala was adamant about that. She has her reasons that I’m not privy to.”
“Right. Boys, let’s go,” Hunter waved his hand back to the door but paused to toss the Commander a casual salute.
“Hunter, stay a moment.”
Hunter gestured for the others to leave. “I’ll be right behind you.” He again faced Cody.
“This is not the kind of mission you usually go on, I know that. You’ll understand better once you’ve acquired this asset. But I can’t stress enough how important it is that you get that asset back to the Republic.”
Hunter nodded, never changing expressions but wondering even more, what the kriff was going on.
“I have something you need to hear for your mission. I can give you the coordinates where the asset is, but I have no idea where exactly the asset is within the facility. Our intel comes from a spy planted within the science facility. Before he could give us the exact location, he died in an explosion of his own making. We have to assume the blast was nowhere near the asset.”
Cody turned to a panel and punched a button. A thumping sound came out low but not steady. “Listen. Use this sound to locate your target.”
Hunter listened, recognizing the sound of a heartbeat but one that struggled, staggered. “That’s not the sound a heart should make,” he mused aloud as he moved closer to the control panel.
“I’m aware of that. This asset is on borrowed time,” Cody said solemnly, his expression grave, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes on the floor.
“You mean we’re saving someone or something that’s dying?” Hunter asked quietly.
Cody nodded. “You will keep this information—the heartbeat and what it signifies—to yourself, Sergeant.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Hunter said softly, his heart aching for this heartbeat. Valuable apparently but not long for this world, such as it is.
“Dismissed,” Cody said without looking at Hunter again. The commander returned to his holo table, pretending to study strategies.
* * * *
“Our plan?” Tech asked.
Cross sat polishing his Firepuncher rifle, waiting for instructions as did Wrecker.
“We land three klicks away then make our way to the facility. Cody sent info saying the facility will be heavily armed, but it’s not that large a place. He had no idea of the number of droids actually stationed there. But there are a few Seppies according to the spy. Science types.”
“Droids we can handle. Inside the facility?”
“We do this one on the fly, boys,” Hunter said then turned to the control panel where Tech had the coordinates and put the Marauder into space.
As the men waited to come out of hyperdrive, they settled into their bunks, their preparations completed for the mission.
Wrecker lay back with his headphones on, watching his data pad. Hunter knew he was watching a holo vid of De’Lanna Trill singing. That was the big man’s usual go-to when waiting…well, besides eating. A body that big with that much muscle required constant food that turned out to be an excellent heat source when time was long and the ship was chilled. Cuddle time for the four, snuggled up against the human heater called Wrecker.
To Hunter’s surprise, Crosshair lay in his bunk as well, his kit ready, his Firepuncher laying along his body. He too had headphones on, listening to music—again, De’Lanna Trill, without a question the most famous and best singer in the galaxy.
Hunter had lost count of the times each of them sang her songs in the fresher during a shower. While Wrecker boomed out the lyrics, he and Cross sang more like the artist herself.
Tech merely hummed. When teased about that, he reminded them that he had a photographic memory. “I know the words to every song that woman has ever sung. And I can sing the song with the words, thank you. Just because I know the words does not mean I have to sing them,” he huffed, setting his brothers to laughing.
* * * *
The Marauder settled not far from the science facility in the dark. The thick undergrowth padded their approach. Only Hunter could have heard them moving. Once at the tree line, he pulled out a pair of binocs. “Clankers on guard duty. I’m hearing a lot of mechanical sounds inside. Battle droids.”
Wrecker grumbled. “They take more to kill. Can I blow them up?”
“Commander Cody never said anything about blowing up the facility, but we don’t have to leave anyone standing, now do we?” Hunter said as he handed the binocs to Crosshair, the group’s sniper.
“I can take out the guards but that will still raise an alarm. Those battle droids will come out, but many will stay in, protecting whatever they’re doing in there,” he informed the squad.
Hunter handed out assignments. “I have no idea if this precious asset is human or a creature. Cody was a bit vague on that point. So, Wrecker, you’re with me. You’ll get the asset. I’ll cover you. Tech, you’re on our six. Cross, take out what you can here then come in, and let’s use poppers to eliminate those bigger droids.”
“On it, Sarge,” Wrecker said, adjusting his heavy gun, checking that said poppers were still attached to his belt.
“Right behind you, Hunter,” Tech acknowledged, checking his blasters.
“Heading up that tree,” Cross said, seeking higher ground from where to deliver the most effective shots.
“This ain’t gonna be no stealth mission,” Wrecker said as soon as Cross started knocking off the clankers.
“But no explosions. We don’t know what’s in there,” Hunter reminded the big guy as he stepped out and started making his way to a side door.
Wrecker stayed right at Hunter’s shoulder, mowing down droids as they approached. Tech had to roll and come up firing with double blasters in order to cover his brothers, his squad mates.
Hunter did some blasting of his own then pulled out his huge vibro-knife and started through the droids, cutting them down like fodder.
“Incoming,” Cross warned as he entered the facility. “Battle droids. Popper time.”
“Slow and easy, remember.”
Tech pulled out two poppers and did a slow low roll that eased under the battle droids’ shields. Before the blast occurred that rendered the droids useless, he’d already moved to others.
Meanwhile, Cross was cutting down clankers inside the facility using his mirrors. Taking out a dozen or more droids with one shot was his specialty.
Hunter paused in the sudden quiet to listen for the heartbeat that Cody gave him. He heard it and motioned Wrecker down a long hall. The facility was freezing cold. The asset not only had a bad heart, but the body temp was dropping if a human. If a creature, the temp might not matter.
When quiet settled over the hall, Tech having taken care of the few scientists that swarmed out of the control room, Hunter stood guard as Wrecker opened the door to a cell and rushed in.
* * * *
A human woman lay with her back to the door. When Wrecker rushed up, his big helmet with the grim teeth logo painted on it, she turned her head just enough to catch sight of him and let out a scream that could be heard outside the facility.
“Shh, shh,” Wrecker urged her to quiet then realized she couldn’t see his face. He whipped off his helmet, and she grew quiet, but terror filled her eyes. His face with its massive scars on the left side and milky white eye weren’t reassuring apparently.
“We’re here to rescue you,” he said as he bent down toward her. Time was moving too fast, and he had to get her out of there. The poor woman lay exhausted on the hard shelf that should have had a mattress. Her clothes were of a finer quality but torn and dirty.
She didn’t believe him, cringed away when he tried to pick her up, keeping her face away from him.
“Padme Amadala sent us, miss.” Wrecker figured if that didn’t help ease her fears then nothing would.
“Padme?” the woman said in a dazed sort of way, her voice rich and mellow.
“We need to get you outta here.” Wrecker moved to her but rather than throw her over his shoulder as he usually did when picking up injured clones or others, he scooped her up high against his chest plate, for the first time getting a good look at her face.
His breath left him as he gasped. “De’Lanna?”
She could only nod as she tucked her head into the side of his shoulder and wrapped her arms like tight bands around his neck.
“Uh, Hunter?” Wrecker said over his helmet comm as he moved out of the cell into the hall. Hunter held his big blaster. “We gotta protect this one good.”
“Got it. Move out.” Hunter led the way, with Tech behind Wrecker, blasters out. “I’m not picking up droids, but there might be someone else still here.”
“Got it,” Cross said as he took up a position beside Tech.
Oddly enough, Wrecker bounded out of the facility going double time on the move. Behind him, Tech blasted one last battle droid while Cross destroyed three more clankers.
Once in the heavy woods, the group moved swiftly, three keeping an eye open for snipers or for anyone following. Wrecker had one objective—get to the ship as fast as possible before someone tried to take De’Lanna Trill from him.
“You’re gonna be all right, De’,” he told her softly. “I got you.”
She tightened her arms and snuggled closer.
“Tech, get the ship in the air as soon as we’re on board. I don’t trust this silence. Too easy for a high profile target,” Hunter said, worry evident in his tone.
As the Marauder rose from the forest floor, Crosshair called out, “Air craft approaching. Coming in hot.” Hunter and Cross manned the rear and forward guns while Wrecker guarded the asset.
Two fighters came in trying to squeeze the Marauder, but Tech’s excellent piloting skills in coordination with Hunter’s sense of what was happening next and Cross’s enhanced eyesight soon left the crafts spiraling in fiery oblivion.
* * * *
“We are clear, Hunter,” called Tech from his pilot’s chair. “How is the asset?”
“Wrecker, how’s our asset?” Hunter asked as he approached the big man who sat like a statue on his bunk, the person still in his arms. The squad leader could feel the other’s heartbeat, staggering but still there. However for a person, the body core temperature was dropping.
“She needs to get warm immediately. Wrecker—”
“Uh, Hunter, you don’t know—”
“Know what, Wrecker?” Hunter moved closer, thinking to take the woman from the big man.
“This is…” Wrecker swallowed hard as he looked down at the woman tucked next to his body. “This is De’Lanna Trill.” His eyes were wide, a look of worry on his face, his arms still holding the woman tightly.
“What did you say?” Crosshair had come up beside Hunter, carrying extra blankets.
“De’Lanna Trill,” Wrecker repeated, a soft smile touching his lips.
“Wrecker, are you sure?” Hunter was having trouble believing that Senator Amadala’s precious asset was the galaxy-famous singer.
“Look, Sarge,” said Wrecker as he eased his body around so they saw what little they could of her oval face and golden brown hair.
“Kriff! It is her!” Hunter and Cross said at the same time.
“So those guys wanted to brainwash her into helping the Separatists?” Wrecker pretty well figured that out.
“Seems like. Her face isn’t injured though from the looks of her body with what little clothes they left on her, she’s been tortured.” Hunter knew that her unstable heart was far worse now than when she’d been kidnapped.
“What’ll we do now?” Wrecker worried as he hugged her closer still.
“First things first. She needs to get out of those clothes. At least down to her unders. Then she needs to warm up. Tag, you’re it, big guy. She needs all the body heat she can get, up close and personal.”
“Huh?”
“Wrecker, while I remove those filthy clothes and Cross brings me a wash cloth to wipe her down, you need to get out of your armor and blacks, down to your unders. For once, we need all the body heat you usually generate. That will keep her going. Other than that, she needs to sleep. We have a long way to go before we reach the fleet and the Negotiator so she’ll get that time.”
As Hunter spoke, he motioned for Wrecker to lay her in the bunk though even semi-conscious, she almost never let go. While he removed her clothes and cleaned her as best he could, Wrecker left his weapons, armor and blacks in pile by the bunk.
Easing in beside the singer, he lay on his side and cuddled her body to his. Feeling his radiant heat, De’Lanna moved closer, tucking her hands between their bodies. Her face went back into his neck, and she all but melted into his heat.
Cross laid several blankets over the couple. “All right, Wrecker?” He wanted to leave a suggestion that Wrecker had a perfect opportunity for intimacy, but somehow Cross realized this wasn’t one of those kinds of moments. This was a woman the men admired. Sang her songs. Never would they want to abuse such a person. Certainly, the Seppies wanted to but not Clone Force 99.
* * * *
Almost a full rotation passed before De’Lanna woke, feeling weak, which had become her natural condition with her failing heart. But she was warm and comfortably cuddled next to the biggest man she’d ever seen. True, her bodyguards were large men—now gone—killed by the men who kidnapped her. But this man… Not only was he huge but he was kind. And so darn hot. Hot, as in, he radiated warmth that she desperately needed in that cell. And he’d rescued her.
Looking over his wide shoulders, she saw two other men, far different in appearance from this one. One appeared tall and narrow with silver white hair. However, he didn’t look old enough for hair that color. How odd. The other looked younger with a receding hairline and huge goggle-type glasses. The tall narrow one stood propped against the bulkhead, sleeping standing up. The other sat at his feet, his head back against the metal plating, also asleep.
Tucking her head back onto the pillow she shared with the big guy, she realized his eyes were opened, his mouth split into a huge grin.
“Hey, Miss Trill,” he whispered though it came out far louder than anyone else’s whisper.
“Hey,” she replied with a grin. “And for you, it’s just De’.”
“Really?”
“You rescued me. You’re special.”
The man positively vibrated with happiness, much like a tiny Loth cat would when petted.
“Do you think I might get up now? Maybe use the fresher if this ship has one?” De’Lanna wiggled a little. “Maybe get something to wear?” she asked with a cheeky grin.
“Uh, yeah.” Wrecker moved out from under the multiple blankets, leaving them over her.
His movements woke the other two. Wrecker jerked a thumb at each one. “The taller one is Crosshair. He’s our sniper. The other one is Tech. He’s the smart one. They helped rescue you too.”
“Do not forget Hunter,” Tech said as he stood.
“Yeah, our sergeant helped rescue you too,” Wrecker said, throwing his bare legs over the side of the bunk. “Hey, Hunter,” he called.
Hunter sat in the pilot’s chair, half asleep. At Wrecker’s call, he left the chair and came to stand beside Crosshair. “Hello. Are you feeling better?” He knew her core temperature was back to normal and the ragged thumping of her heart was less stressed.
“Much now that I’m away from those lunatics. And I’m warm. And safe,” she clarified, hugging the blanket to her as she sat up. She bestowed the kind of smile on the squad that they’d seen in her holo vids. Warm and caring and lovely.
“Uh, Hunter, she needs to use the fresher. Maybe a shower?” Wrecker turned to ask her. She nodded enthusiastically. “Then she needs some clothes. Maybe a pair of Tech’s blacks? And something to eat and drink too.” For a guy who usually only followed orders rather than take the lead, he was more in tune with her needs than he’d ever been in tune with anything else.
“Right. Wrap up, and Wrecker will take you to the fresher. A pair of blacks will be waiting for you. Not what you’re used to but they’ll work in a pinch,” Hunter said.
“Come on, De’, up you go,” Wrecker said as he lifted her, blankets and all in his arms. Once again, she buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. Off they went, leaving the other three men shocked.
“De’?” Crosshair said softly. “He gets to call her De’?” He didn’t snort as he could do in such cases. Frankly, he was a bit jealous.
“It seems our biggest brother has an admirer.” Tech pushed his goggles up on his nose, his eyes appearing even wider behind the lens.
“I’m glad,” Hunter said softly, knowing there was no future for the two, but glad they could enjoy the moment.
* * * *
“If I may speak freely, Miss Trill?” Tech asked while assessing his blacks on the woman.
“You may and please,” De’Lanna held up a hand and gestured to the three, “call me De’Lanna.” She cocked her head to Tech, letting him know she was ready for his comment.
“My blacks have never looked so good,” the pilot engineer said solemnly even as a faint blush colored his pale cheeks.
De’Lanna’s eyes went wide as did her mouth. She grinned then burst into a heartfelt but short round of laughter, the laughing leaving her coughing, breathless.
Hunter wanted to say something so badly that he bit his lip, remaining quiet. She knew what the problem was. The others didn’t, and he didn’t want to ruin their pleasure—or hers—with harmful knowledge.
De’Lanna sat in one of the jump seats behind the second command chair. She sat on Wrecker’s lap. He had designated himself as her bodyguard, and she seemed satisfied with that. Truthfully, she probably didn’t have the energy for getting around on her own so him carrying her helped.
“What is it like when you perform?” Tech swung around in the pilot’s chair, the ship on auto.
“You know how a ship revs up when preparing for a hyperspace run?”
He nodded.
“Being in front of an audience is like that. Energy rolls over me from those sitting out there listening. It keeps me going far longer than I think I can last. So many faces that want to hear the message that I sing. So many smiles. Occasionally many tears. I’ve been blessed with a voice that others want to hear.”
“We listen to your songs all the time,” Wrecker said where he held her with both arms so she’d not fall off his wide lap.
“What our brother means is that your songs provide comfort when we have down time or after a mission,” Tech added.
“Going to sleep is easier sometimes when I hear one of your songs,” Crosshair admitted without looking at anyone, his words more like a stray thought that slipped out.
“I’m glad,” De’Lanna said in her mellow alto voice.
Each man could imagine her singing live. Each had watched her holo vids far more than once. Each one wished he could be here with her far longer than this trip would allow.
The men chatted as if they’d known her for a long time, a trait she seemed to have, making people comfortable around her.
“De’?”
“Yes, Wrecker?”
“I think you might need some more rest before we dock on the Negotiator,” the man suggested. He sensed her weariness because he read people well.
“I think that’s a good idea. I’m going to lie down for a while, but please let me know before we land.”
“Will do, De’Lanna,” Hunter assured her with a snappy two-finger salute and smile.
“Wrecker, would you lie with me? I don’t want to get cold again,” the woman asked.
“Sure thing, De’” Off the two went, though both stayed in their blacks this time, two blankets over the singer.
* * * *
“Sergeant, you acquired the target?” Cody asked over the comms as the Marauder approached a more secluded area for landing.
“As instructed, sir,” Hunter replied on the closed connection.
“How is the asset?”
“Not good, sir, but doing the best she can.” His assessment was based on her heart mainly now that her temp was regulated.
“The Senator is here. Her shuttle is docked where you’re headed. She requests that everyone stay aboard. She will board your ship.”
“Roger that, sir,” Hunter acknowledged and cut the comm link. He made his way to the bunk where the group was gathered. “We’re to stay aboard when we land. Senator Amadala is waiting to see you, De’Lanna. She’ll come here.”
“How lovely! Padme and I grew up together on Naboo.” She practically wiggled on the bunk where she sat with Wrecker on one side with Tech and Crosshair on the other. All four lined up, facing Hunter, the men reminding him of times when they were cadets.
He had to grin. That was the most satisfied he’d seen his brothers in a long time.
“I imagine Padme will scold me for being on the Outer Rim, but I had a concert to give to the 501st troops and hated to disappoint them.” De’Lanna sighed and patted Wrecker’s leg. “But we have a plan, don’t we, Wrecker. And it’s a secret, so no fair badgering him about it.” The two grinned like partners in crime.
Hunter wanted to sigh in frustration, realizing further doings with De’Lanna Trill would only break Wrecker’s heart when they parted.
* * * *
“Padme!”
“De’!”
Padme rushed into her friend’s arms as awkward as it was on the bunk where the singer still sat. Their heads together, they whispered for a few moments.
Hunter removed himself as did Tech and Crosshair. Hunter mainly because he could hear what the two were saying.
De’Lanna heaped praises on the squad, especially Wrecker. She missed her guards who were not only her protectors but also her friends. Wrecker filled that spot for her. Padme assured her friend that they’d head back to Coruscant as soon as possible.
“Wait, Padme. Wrecker and I have a plan,” De’Lanna said. She motioned to the big man who joined the two women on the bunk. Now there were three heads together, whispering.
Hunter’s eyes grew wide and filled with fear when he overheard the plan. Wrecker and the senator knew what his enhancements were—improved hearing. Little escaped the man. Now though, he feared this plan might kill the singer. Even Senator Amadala nixed the idea. But De’Lanna was adamant.
Eventually the senator gave in grudgingly. Since Wrecker had no idea of his friend’s health condition, he was a happy trooper.
“Let me contact Cody. He’ll set things up in a hurry. By the way, though Obi-wan isn’t here nor Anakin, the 212 and the 501 are here. So they won’t miss your concert.”
Concert? Oh man, did she just say concert? Hunter was ready to pull rank even on a senator. But he had no authority to stop a show that might—probably would—kill the singer. For the millionth time in his life, he wished he didn’t have the enhancement that made him privy to information he really didn’t want to know. At this point, his squad had safely delivered this very precious asset, and what she did now was beyond his ability to control.
The senator sat on the bunk and used Wrecker’s comms to contact Commander Cody. What the man said about De’Lanna’s plan could be heard all the way to the ramp where Hunter, Crosshair and Tech stood. Senator Amadala’s security force stood at the bottom of the ramp. Even Captain GregarTypho turned when he heard Cody yelling. Hunter shrugged his shoulders. They’d have to wait and see who won this war—De’Lanna Trill or Commander Cody, the Marshal Commander in charge of the 7th Sky Corp.
If Wrecker hadn’t been part of this plan and was his usual self instead, he’d have placed bets with his brothers. In this case, Hunter was betting on the singer.
* * * *
“You sure about this, De’Lanna?” Hunter stood with Crosshair and Tech while Wrecker stood ready to pick up the singer.
She stepped forward and touched his arm. “This is the most important thing I’ll ever do in my life, Sergeant. I’m sure about this. And,” she reached back and pulled Wrecker forward, “I’m borrowing the big man here. Without him, I can’t do what I want to do today.”
Her eyes bore into Hunter’s, letting him know she was aware of his worries and why. But she also imparted a spirit that told the man that she was going to do this even though it might kill her.
“We’re your bodyguards then. Senator Amadala and her guards will be nearby but not visible to the troops.” Hunter turned to Wrecker, “Take care of her, brother.”
“Will do, Sarge.” The man practically bounced on his toes, he was so excited. He held a long dark cloak with a hood. The plan was for her to wear it, covering her blacks and the black thigh boots Padme loaned her. No one would recognize her until she stepped out of the cloak. Wrecker would carry her to the stage then sit in front, ready to help her when needed.
And he would be needed, Hunter knew.
“Let’s do this then.” Hunter watched as Wrecker slipped the cloak over De’Lanna’s shoulders. She attached a mic along the left side of her face then adjusted the hood to hide her face and long golden brown hair. When she was ready, Wrecker lifted her as he’d done several times already and made his way down the ramp, escorted by the rest the squad.
* * * *
“This is the most harebrained thing I’ve ever done—letting that woman put on a concert in her condition,” Cody said quietly to Hunter. The squad leader, Crosshair, Tech, the senator and Captain Typho stood with Cody. Wrecker and De’Lanna stood behind the group out of sight.
In a matter of thirty minutes, Cody’s men had erected a stage and steps leading up to it on the main hanger deck. A ship-wide broadcast invited all off-duty personnel to a surprise. Tech held a contraption that he would use to pipe De’Lanna’s orchestra music through the main speaker system. He was charged with timing the songs, preventing downtime. Not being a stupid man, he’d quickly deduced what she planned on doing. However, the reality had him worried because she’d just been rescued from a cell and wasn’t in the best of health. He’d stated his concerns, and she’d assured him that this was something she wanted—needed—to do. He didn’t quite understand, but he wasn’t going to argue with one of his idols.
The group stood by a small side door with a good view of the stage. De’Lanna turned in Wrecker’s arms to address them. “Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, you’ve been kind and gracious to me. I can never thank you enough for rescuing me. Padme, thank you for sending them after me. Commander, thank you for setting up this concert,” she paused, “though I know you didn’t want to.” She settled higher in Wrecker’s arms. “You remember how we’re going to do this?”
“It’s a mission, De’,” he pointed out. “I always remember what to do on a mission.”
She giggled and kissed his cheek.
“Let’s give ‘em a show that they’ll never forget.”
* * * *
Relative quiet settled over the troops gathered in the hanger. Must have been several thousand men there. All they saw for a few minutes was a very large man carrying someone wrapped in a black cloak and hood. The suspense mounted as Wrecker stopped at the side of the steps with only two more to the stage.
He grinned down at De’ who winked at him. “Let’s do this,” she whispered.
Wrecker lifted her body to stand and held her hand until she was stable, with her back to the audience. She undid the clasp on the cloak then with a flourish turned and swept it off, letting it settle across Wrecker’s arm.
The audience went berserk! Everyone recognized De’Lanna Trill, the most famous singer in the galaxy. Claps, hoots, shouts and whistles flowed to her, energizing her. Wrecker took a seat on the floor right in front of the stage just as they’d planned.
De’Lanna waved and blew kisses for a good thirty seconds before the first orchestra chords poured smoothly through the sound system. Immediately she went into a well-known song, moving back and forth across the stage, looking out at troopers far from her then down to those nearer. Each person there had to have felt her touch. Through her songs she traveled, taking those men with her.
Clone Force 99, Senator Amadala, Captain Typho and Commander Cody weren’t immune to her charms or the words of each song. She mesmerized them all. Often she’d take a stance, feet wide, arms out, head back and belt out the chorus.
Though Tech muttered to himself that she was not well and this was not helping her recovery, he timed the music perfectly.
Cody raised a worried brow to Hunter who merely shook his head, his despair for that poorly beating heart clear on his face.
Wrecker clearly enjoyed listening, clapping at the end of each song, sighing now and then when lyrics touched the sensitive soul.
Through songs like Strength in Love, Life Worth Living and If He Loves Me she went, never stopping for a break, the energy sent to her from her audience as she said, keeping her going. She went into Somebody Loves Me, a rollicking number that sent everyone swaying and singing along. Everyone sang because everyone knew the words. She left the three best songs for last.
Hunter could tell she was fading. But she kept going. He worried that she’d die right there on stage. But being the consummate performer that she was, she would never allow herself to disappoint or shock her fans with something as unseemly as dying in front of their eyes.
With a dramatic pause, Tech sent out the music for No Easy Way. While the audience was still as enthralled as ever, they quietened slightly. Without a break, she swung right into Right to the Heart. Now she held the audience in the palm of her hand.
Men leaned forward as the opening chords of Love You began. This was De’Lanna Trill’s most famous, most-beloved song. Her head back, her arms out again, she sang to each of them. Won them to her heart as they took her into theirs.
When the final soft strains of the song faded, Wrecker stood and held out a hand for her. She took it, waved to the troops who had come out of their stasis and went mad for her, clapping. Taking the cloak once more, she threw it around her shoulders like a mage would, pulling the hood up, she waved once more then Wrecker swept her up into his arms.
Moving quickly, he headed to the senator’s ship, docked beside the Marauder. Padme Amadala led the way with Captain Typho. No one spoke. The Batch followed behind Wrecker, keeping a sharp eye opened in case an enthusiastic fan might try to approach De’Lanna.
Wrecker entered the senator’s ship while the Batch stayed on the ramp.
* * * *
By the time Wrecker entered the ship, De’Lanna’s arms were limp around his neck. He eyed her as he followed Padme to a bunk where he laid the woman. Sitting beside her, he eased the hood back and removed the mic. He gave Padme such a pitiful pleading look that she and her security team faded away.
“De’? You did good today. You made a lot of men happy,” the man told the singer, whispering, brushing stray hair off her sweaty face.
Her eyes barely open, De’ gave him a weak grin, but she said nothing.
“All those men…they loved hearing you sing. They love you like me and Hunter and Cross and Tech do. Like the senator does.”
Too tired to even cry, De’ tried to speak, but Wrecker put a big finger gently on her lips. His eyes wept tears for her. “I may never see you again, but I…love you, De’.”
“Love you too,” De’ finally managed to whisper before her eyes closed, exhaustion finally claiming her.
Two giant Wrecker-sized tears fell, clung to De’Lanna’s cheek.
Unable to say more, Wrecker made his way swiftly out of the senator’s ship. He no sooner cleared the ramp than it went up, and the engines hummed to life.
He and his brothers backed off, joining Commander Cody, giving the ship room enough to maneuver as it lifted, headed for Coruscant.
Still as mesmerized as they were during the concert, the men stood and watched the ship until it was out of sight.
Before they could disband, Cody received a comm. Holding up his hand to stop the Batch, he opened a holo disc for all of them to see.
“De’Lanna Trill passed away moments ago in her sleep. I know Wrecker told her she made people happy and she was loved. That was all she ever wanted, to let her music make others happy. Wrecker, your tears are still on her cheek.” The holo went dark.
Cody turned to the others, seeing the brothers close in around a sobbing Wrecker who stood with tears pouring down his scarred face.
“No one needs to know. She’ll fade away while her music will live forever.” He clapped a sympathetic hand on Hunter’s shoulder.
The Batch made their way to the Marauder, not knowing what Hunter knew, but knowing they’d never see the likes of that concert ever again.
While men on the Star Destroyer went around singing De’Lanna Trill’s songs and smiling that day, the brokenhearted Batch took to the sky, headed for deep space. Once away from the fleet, Tech turned up the volume in the ship, turned on Love You, and the four clones sang De’Lanna Trill’s soul to the stars.