"Makes you miss battling clankers, doesn't it?"

~

Amethyst wanders along a stunning beach, but in the distance, the remnants of Star Destroyers loom—ghostly echoes of battles long past. She exhales deeply and settles onto a tuft of grass amidst the sand. She doesn't question her surroundings; instead, she simply sits, allowing the Force to guide her senses, alerting her to another presence. Her attention sharpens as she spots Crosshair. He appears gaunt, exhausted, and desperate.

"Help me," he murmurs just before he collapses near her. His head almost strikes her leg, but she swiftly catches him, preventing him from hitting the ground.

She cradles his head before leaning down to listen to his breathing. She then notices the dark circles under his eyes—he's not sleeping enough, she thinks, and her stomach clenches. A scar runs down from his lip; he's been beaten. She snarls and gently positions him onto another patch of grass, pressing her hand to his chest. It's not armor there, just his blacks—just fabric, nothing more, nothing less. She then uses the Force to heal him, to lessen the pressure of the inhibitor chip.

She delves deeper into his mind, navigating the tangled web of his thoughts. He's exhausted, overwhelmed by a cocktail of sadness and weariness. It becomes clear to her that he no longer desires to align with the Empire; he's tired of doubting his comrades, yearning instead for a simpler existence—perhaps one that includes her. This realization jolts her; it's unexpected, intriguing. She pauses, absorbing the weight of his silent confession, then continues to gently sift through his now tranquil mind. She understands that although this is merely a dream, her actions here could echo into reality, offering him solace when awake.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a golden glow that kisses the horizon, a cool breeze stirs the air, carrying the scent of the sea and the faint hint of evening rain. The world around them softens into twilight, enhancing the intimacy of the moment. Amethyst leans closer, her snout gently touching Crosshair's lips, a tender gesture bridging dream and reality. As the last light of day stretches across the cooling sand, their shared dream gently dissolves, leaving behind a promise of healing and hope.

~❈~

When Amethyst awakens, a deep sigh escapes her as she drags a clawed hand across her forehead, pulling at her ears and then tracing the contours of her horns in a restless gesture. Suddenly, a familiar analytical voice cuts through the silence, startling her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tech says, his presence marked by the distinct, mechanical scent that always seems to linger around him.

"You've been whimpering in your sleep, Mel'sha," he continues, his tone laced with concern. Amethyst turns to face him, noticing the worry etched across his features—those eyes, so reminiscent of Crosshair's yet distinctly different, scrutinize her with a mix of curiosity and empathy.

With another heavy sigh, Amethyst rubs her face, feeling the rough texture of her scales against her palms. "Sorry," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with fatigue and a tinge of sadness.

Tech, ever the pragmatist, simply shrugs, his gaze softening. "Don't say sorry for something like this. You miss Crosshair, don't you?" His voice is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's treading carefully around her emotions, understanding the depth of her feelings yet unsure how to comfort her without overstepping.

Amethyst manages a small smile and shakes her head, her voice carrying a hint of resolve mixed with nostalgia. "I do, but now's not the time to dwell on the past." She stands, stretching her arms above her head, the clear sound of muscles cracking echoing in the quiet room as she does so. Tech nods in understanding, his expression unreadable yet respectful.

"Very well, I'll inform the others," he says, turning to leave. As he departs, Amethyst is left alone, the silence settling around her like a familiar cloak.

She sighs deeply and runs her hand down her face once more, this time letting it glide to her chest where an old, ornate medal hangs in silvery loops. It was a gift from Anakin— from Darth Vader when she met him for the first time and had bested him in combat. Training combat, to be precise. A slight smile tugs at the corners of her lips as the memory surfaces. She missed her padawan years, the time when life was filled with the promise of growth and the thrill of learning.

The war had robbed them of so many other padawans, but she was at least Anakin's age, so they hadn't been robbed that much. The weight of the medal against her chest serves as a poignant reminder of those days, a symbol of the paths crossed and the battles fought, both in the arena and within themselves.

Amethyst stands, her movements deliberate and filled with a quiet strength. She reaches for her purple garments, the ones she wore in the forest when she first met the Bad Batch. Each piece of the fabric holds memories, the threads interwoven with echoes of laughter, danger, and camaraderie. She dresses methodically, each layer a testament to her readiness and resolve.

Once fully clad in her familiar attire, she slips quietly through the corridors of their current base, her steps silent yet purposeful. The ship around her hums with the low, steady buzz of machinery and the distant murmur of her teammates preparing in their own ways.

Reaching the cockpit, she steps inside, her presence commanding yet serene. The array of blinking lights and screens greets her, each one a beacon of potential challenges and adventures ahead. She settles into the pilot's seat, her hands expertly gliding over the controls, setting coordinates for their next mission.

As the engines begin to roar to life, a sense of anticipation fills the air. Amethyst is ready, not just to face whatever the galaxy throws at her, but to lead her team through it with the wisdom and courage she has honed over countless battles. The journey ahead may be fraught with peril, but for Amethyst and the Bad Batch, it's just another opportunity to stand together and face the unknown.

~❈~

Soon enough, they make it back to Ord Mantell, and Amethyst walks out right after Hunter. Her mood has lifted somewhat, but suddenly, a distinct scent catches her off guard. She halts at the entrance to the parlor, where chaos unfolds as two patrons, their faces etched with panic, are scrambling out in a frenzied escape. Inside, a figure stands cloaked in shadows, a hood obscuring his features, but the scent is unmistakable. "Rex?" Amethyst breathes out, her voice a mix of surprise and recognition.

The figure turns, his movements deliberate, and he pulls back the hood to reveal himself. It is indeed Rex, his familiar smile slightly crooked, his eyes reflecting a clarity born of countless battles. "Amethyst Blaze, never thought I'd see you again, Commander," he greets, his voice carrying a warm, gravelly tone that fills Amethyst with nostalgia.

Without hesitation, Amethyst strides toward him, her wings unfurling gracefully and enveloping him in a gentle embrace. "And I you, Ner alor'ad," she responds, her voice soft yet filled with emotion. She hugs him tightly, burying her snout into his scent gland, allowing her own scent to mingle with his, marking a reunion of old comrades. Rex sighs, a sound of contentment, and wraps his arms around her, returning the embrace with equal warmth.

"You know Rex?" Wrecker interjects, his voice tinged with curiosity as soon as Amethyst steps back from the clone captain. She offers a smile, one that speaks of deep-seated bonds formed in the crucible of war. "I did. I used to serve with him in Skywalker's squad," she explains, her tone proud yet wistful.

Rex nods in confirmation, then turns to Wrecker, who initially beams with a broad, infectious smile. However, his expression suddenly shifts, contorting with a sharp pang of pain that knifes through his head. Amethyst's instincts kick in; her head snaps up, her senses heightened. She feels a disturbance in the Force, a premonition of danger that sends a chill down her spine. Something is wrong, and it's more than just a painful memory resurfacing for Wrecker.

"Wrecker," Amethyst calls out, placing a hand on the broad shoulder of the towering clone, but he brushes her off. "I can handle it. It's just a minor headache," he insists.

Amethyst exchanges a knowing look with Rex. The 'minor' headache could potentially be something much worse. "Wrecker, be completely honest with me," she says before gently lifting his chin with her fingers, "how long have you been feeling this pain?"

He shifts his eyes away before exhaling, "Ever since we were at that scrap metal place with the two girls, Rafa and Trace, trying to find the tech droid," he admits.

Amethyst blinks. She recalls hearing a blast during that skirmish, but her memories are hazy; her mind had been elsewhere, preoccupied. "Oh, stars," she murmurs, rubbing his head gently. He waves her off again. She stands and walks away, her tail flicking in distress. "Mesh'la?" Rex asks, looking at Amethyst with concern and a hint of pain.

"We need to get him to a medical facility, and fast," she declares, and Rex furrows his brow. "I'll see what I can do," he says, then slips away, pulling his hood back over his head.

"What should we do in the meantime?" Omega asks. "I'll try to heal him with my abilities," Amethyst responds, glancing at Hunter, who nods in approval.

Amethyst approaches Wrecker, who winces and mutters, "Uhh," before twisting in pain.

"Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing?" Echo snaps, attempting to move towards Amethyst, but a violet wave of magic pushes them all back.

"Don't do that," Hunter barks, grabbing Echo's cybernetic arm. "She's not going to hurt him, you know our girl would never harm any of us."

Echo exhales loudly, "I know... it's just hard seeing her in pain, too."

Hunter nods in agreement. "Yeah, I agree, but we must trust her on this one." He then releases Echo's arm, and together with Tech, Omega, and Echo, they watch as the violet wave subsides. Soon, Wrecker is peacefully snoring on the bar desk.

Amethyst turns to them, flicking out her forked tongue. "That's all I could do. I can't remove it from his head permanently; it would just tear it apart. But I've put it out of function; it shouldn't be acting up again before we get to the medical facility," she explains.

Shaking her head, Amethyst steps away from the slumbering figure and passes by her friends. "I'm going to get some air," she announces briefly before vanishing.

~❈~

After a few days, they did receive a communication from Rexa, and Amethyst is simply joyful to be in motion once more, knowing they can mend Wrecker to the fullest extent possible by extracting the chip.

They encounter the former clone captain at a spaceship graveyard, and Amethyst exhales, recalling that one of these vessels could have been her fate on the day Order 66 exposed the betrayal and tragedy wrought by the intermingling blood of Jedi and clones. She clenches her jaw, feeling the sharp points of self-blame digging into her conscience as she gazes down at her hands, her fingers echoing his touch as he gently grasps them in his own. "Do not burden yourself with guilt," he whispers, his voice a soft reassurance.

She gazes at him wistfully and sighs, "It is indeed a challenging task, my friend." She then releases his hand and moves forward, only to be joined by Rex, his helmet perched atop his head. "I apologize for subjecting you to such sights," he murmurs regretfully, but Amethyst shakes her head in response. "It is preferable to confront our past rather than bury it beneath layers of resentment and sorrow. I have made my decision. Now, I shall endeavor to bring redemption to this troubled galaxy," she declares resolutely, meeting Hunter's gaze with her (eye color) eyes as he nods in affirmation.

She nods subtly, and they proceed to traverse various types of bridges, some of which are not conventional structures but rather remnants of star destroyer hulls. Something unsettling in the murky emptiness of the waters halts Amethyst in her tracks, prompting Hunter to approach her and murmur a warning in Echo's ear. "Steer clear of that area," he cautions, before Amethyst forges ahead, following Wrecker, Omega, Rex, and Tech.

As they navigate through the sunken corridors of the star destroyer, Amethyst extends her senses with the Force, perceiving the echoes of lost souls from not only this vessel but from various other ships she had once vanquished. Regret lingers as she contemplates the lives she might have saved if only she had embraced her true dragon nature sooner, fulfilling her destiny. Their progress is momentarily halted when they arrive at the med bay and Rex pauses, prompting Amethyst to cast her gaze over the dusty equipment with a sense of nostalgia.

"If these systems were operational, this ship wouldn't be derelict," remarked Rex, tapping Amethyst on the shoulder and gesturing towards the main controls. She made her way towards them, her purple robe billowing around her. "Do you have knowledge of operating this machinery?" inquired Hunter, observing as Amethyst and Rex manipulated the controls.

"Magic will suffice," Amethyst declared before turning to Wrecker, extending her hand towards him. "Come along, my dear giant," she whispered. Wrecker sighed wearily, hesitantly clasped her hand, and lay down on a dormant sickbed.

Teck approached and operated the scanner to locate the inhibitor chip before fastening it onto Wrecker's head. He held onto Amethyst's hand tightly, and she squeezed back reassuringly. "You will recover," she whispered softly to him.

But suddenly, she jolts her attention, causing the rest of the sword-wreckers to startle as well. The leader, with a mix of astonishment and frustration, buries his head in his hands as they all become aware of the tense atmosphere enveloping them.

"Oh, to hell with this," Amethyst utters before she pins the wrecker to the ground, her wings snapping open and her purple cloak billowing. "What are you doing?!" Omega shrieks, rushing forward, but a powerful slap from Amethyst's tail to the gut sends her sprawling backwards. Hunter and Echo open fire on the dragons, but their blasts ricochet off the steel walls as if an invisible force field surrounds the former Jedi.

Wrecker soon stops twitching and lies motionless on the med bay. Even Rex has his pistol now aimed at Amethyst as she stands, smoothing out her clothes. With a flick of her hand, she retrieves the intricate ship, clutching it tightly in her claws. She squeezes it, causing sparks to fly before crushing it. "Trust not humans," she declares, breezing past them and leaving them speechless and unsettled, with an unconscious Wrecker.