Chapter Text
Echo watched as his four brothers – his four little brothers, at the moment – crowded around Obi-Wan on the barracks floor. The Jedi was settling in for what appeared to be some long-winded storytelling, and Echo hardly even cared that said stories would likely result in little Wrecker trying to Force-jump off the rafters or an even littler Crosshair thinking he could one-up a Jedi in some way that could probably cause injury.
At this point, he was too tired to care. Cody and Chrys had just reported that they were no closer to cracking the relic’s secrets than before, not even with Jocasta Nu on a holo call from Coruscant; Rex was trying to keep Ahsoka away from the barracks to prevent even more shenanigans; and if Helix, Gregor, or anyone else from the 501st or 212th snuck the littles any more sugary treats the cadets weren’t going to eat regular food for a week.
What the cyborg really needed was a nap. A long, uninterrupted nap that preferably ended with all of this being one unusual, food poisoning-induced dream.
His comm buzzed, and his flesh hand instinctively pressed a switch on his headpiece to answer.
“What?” he grumbled.
“Ah, hey, now,” came a familiar, almost laughing voice. It wasn’t carefree laughter, though – it was more mischievous, not quite malicious but nowhere near jovial. “Is that any way to answer a call from your most accommodating and charming benefactor?”
Echo nearly choked. “H-Hondo?”
No, he thought. No, no, nononono –
“Yes, that is my name! Not that you could forget it, eh?” Another laugh, more boisterous than the first. “Anyway, I have the information that the knife guy wanted – you know, the particular tidbits he said you boys would pay handsomely for.”
Before Echo could process that sentence – he was not aware that Hunter had called Hondo. Vaguely, he recalled a conversation about the possibility but he didn’t know what happened after that – he felt a gentle tug on his arm and blinked down at a curious little Wrecker.
“Who’s that?” the cadet asked innocently. He was altogether too cute at the moment, his nose wrinkled a tiny bit and his head tilted as he hung on Echo’s scomp arm, standing on his tiptoes as if being a tad bit closer would let him hear the conversation better.
“Nobody,” Echo replied, maybe a little too quickly. “Nobody at all.”
A gasp from Hondo only irritated the cyborg. “Oh, you offend me, Metal Man!” Hondo was a renowned sulker and at the moment he was exhibiting that skill splendidly. “You wound me. Me, your good friend and ally, who has helped you and your slightly frightening and…shall we say, screwball crew, in so many, many ways over our long and colorful acquaintance–”
“Wrecker said they met you in a prison galley just a year ago.” Echo didn’t want to snap in front of the munchkins but he couldn’t let that bluff slide. He was already over this conversation with the melodramatic, though admittedly amusing, pirate.
“Ah, that is the colorful part! And what is a single year for the best of friends, huh? That is practically a lifetime!”
“I said that?” Wrecker’s eyes widened with surprise. “When?”
“Wrecker, I’m on the comm. Hold on for a sec, please.” Echo sighed. “What information, Hondo? Hunter is a, uh–” The cybernetic glanced over at the puzzled little cadet, whose long hair flopped into his eyes when he turned toward the sounds of talking. His little enhanced ears were probably picking up even the static in the call. “He’s a little occupied, at the moment.”
All he heard on the other end of the connection was a dead, frozen silence.
Echo frowned and tapped his comm with a soft but rapid fingertip. He wasn’t privy to what information Hondo supposedly had, but if Hunter had wanted it, it must be important, right? “Hondo? Are you there?”
Hondo cleared his throat awkwardly, and there was another pause before he spoke. “That…adorable little voice just now. Did you just refer to the owner as the big guy?”
“His name is Wrecker.” Echo wished he could swallow those words. He needed a nap more than he thought. His brain wasn’t working. “Anyway, if you could just send me the intel–”
“That is not an anyway sort of development, my friend!” The cyborg couldn’t tell if the pirate was shocked, appalled, or some unknown third option. “Wrecker is the big guy, yes? The one who cracked open that repulsive Hutt with one fist?”
Echo wished he could pinch the bridge of his nose, but he was still using the comm, and that would have required a second hand, which he did not have.
“Yes – no, he didn’t –” He growled. “None of them are very big at the moment. Just please give me the intel and I’ll make sure Hunter gets it, and I’ll pay you right now!” He didn’t even care how much Hondo screwed him over on the unknown amount of payment, either. He just wanted to stop talking to him.
“Ah, yes, the information.” Hondo’s voice sounded more hesitant now. It was almost thoughtful – not that the Weequay had many thoughts to go around. “I think, after further, very careful review, that this intel is too important to be transferred over such a crude device as a comm. I mean, you have no idea who could be listening in on our little exchange, right?”
His laugh was foreboding in a way Echo didn’t quite want to identify. It almost sounded…happy? “After deliberating with my small crew –” A chittering suggested that the crew probably consisted solely of the funny little monkey-lizard that rode on Hondo’s shoulder. “–we have collectively decided to deliver this vital information in person!”
Obi-Wan was finally paying attention to something other than the cadets, and Echo saw his eyes go wide at the loud declaration. “No, no, no – that won’t be necessary!” the Jedi insisted quickly.
“Ah, Kenobi! You are there, too?” This time Hondo’s chuckle was amused, his booming greeting even more mischievous than before. “See, Metal Man? I told you, I have so many friends! I will be there within the hour. See you then!”
“No, please don’t –!” Echo froze as the comm went dead.
“Oh, dear.” Obi-Wan stared at the cyborg, lips slightly parted in shock and his eyes bright with confusion. Echo stared back. “Oh…” He paused, as if looking for another word. Then he gave up, and just sighed. “Oh, dear.”
“You said that already.” Crosshair tugged on the Jedi’s big sleeve and frowned. “Finish the story.” At a sharp look from Hunter, the sniper cadet flinched. If he had ears, they would have folded down.
“Please,” he tacked on, giving his brother an apologetic look that could have made General Grievous consider forgiveness.
Hunter nodded approvingly, then turned to Echo.
“Who’s Hondo?” he asked curiously. His hair flopped over his bandana again, and he flipped it back. “And why don’t we like him?”
Echo cleared his throat. Why did he have to be the explainer all the time? This wasn’t his job….it was Hunter’s, or Tech’s. He was doing too many jobs at the moment. “Uh, General?” he pleaded.
Obi-Wan straightened and blinked. “I believe we should call Cody. And…prepare to be boarded.” He smirked tiredly, amused at his own pun.
Echo groaned. “Can’t we just fake our own deaths?”
“I do not wish to die,” Tech answered curtly. He didn’t even look up his datapad – apparently, his task of transcribing the last few paragraphs of Obi-Wan’s tale was more important than the slight inconvenience he thought death would be.
“Me neither!” Wrecker added anxiously.
Echo waved his scomp, encompassing all of them. “Nobody’s dying!”
“Except maybe Hondo,” Obi-Wan remarked. “He and Cody cannot stand each other.”
“If Cody doesn’t like him, then I don’t either,” Hunter decided aloud.
Crosshair shook his head. “Me neither.”
“Neither do I. See, we have so much in common.” Obi-Wan chuckled and patted the cadet’s snowy curls. “I told you we were best friends.”
Crosshair sniffed and shook his head, then waited patiently, cross-legged beside the Jedi, for the rest of the story.
Echo wondered how much longer Obi-Wan would be able to get away with that particular lie. He also wondered what he was going to do once Hondo arrived.
Because at the moment, he had absolutely no idea.