When Sayori woke, she stretched, her joints popping softly as she reached out with her senses. The familiar presence of Clone Force 99 surrounded her — steady heartbeats, rhythmic breathing. Her connection to the Force allowed her to feel their emotions even in sleep.

All of them were there.

Well... all except one.

Her heart twisted. Crosshair.

Sayori swung her legs off the bunk and stood. She allowed the Force to guide her, reaching further beyond the barracks. Her senses stretched through the cold walls of Kamino, tracing Crosshair's presence. He wasn't far. Near the Kaminoans.

And then she felt something else — something that made her breath catch.

A presence she hadn't felt in what seemed like a lifetime. A memory from the dark days on Skako Minor, when Echo had been taken, presumed dead. That faint trace of pain and suffering still lingered on the edge of her awareness.

Sayori growled softly, a sound more animalistic than human. She ran her fingers through her stark white hair, the motion doing little to ease her tension. Pulling her cloak over her shoulders, she strode toward the door, her bare feet making little sound against the metal floor.

Behind her, Hunter stirred. The soft rustling of blankets was followed by a groggy grunt as he sat up in his bunk, rubbing a hand over his face. His sharp eyes found her immediately, even in the dim light.

"Hrmm... General," he murmured, voice rough with sleep. "Where are you going?"

Sayori glanced back, her six eyes narrowing slightly beneath her blindfold. "Crosshair."

Hunter frowned, the tension in his shoulders visible as he swung his legs off the bed. "What about him?"

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to say more. But Hunter was observant. He'd know something was wrong whether she told him or not.

"There's something... off. I felt something near the Kaminoans." Her voice dropped, laced with a quiet growl. "I'm going to find him."

Hunter stood, reaching for his gear. "I'll come with you."

"No," Sayori said, shaking her head. "Stay here. Watch the others."

Hunter crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "You sure?"

Sayori gave a small, sharp nod. "I'll be fine." She turned back toward the door, her voice softening just slightly. "I've handled worse."

Hunter sighed, his brows furrowing. "Just... be careful."

Sayori glanced back once more before slipping out the door, her senses locked onto Crosshair's familiar presence. As she walked through the sterile halls of Kamino, her fingers tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber, her mind racing with questions.

Why is Crosshair near the Kaminoans? And why does this presence feel like Echo...?

Her jaw clenched as her footsteps quickened.

Whatever was waiting for her... she was ready to face it.

SCENEBREAK

Sayori's footsteps echoed down the sterile halls of Kamino, the rhythmic clink of metal and water merging with her growing sense of dread. The Force guided her toward the source of unease — an all-too-familiar presence that made her blood run cold.

When she turned the final corner, she froze.

There he stood.

The man she hadn't sensed since Skako Minor. The man responsible for Echo's fate.

"Tarkin," Sayori growled, her voice low and dangerous, vibrating with restrained fury.

Governor Wilhuff Tarkin turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto her with practiced disdain. Beside him, Nala Se, ever composed, watched the exchange with faint interest, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Commander Velmont," Tarkin said, his tone calm, calculating. "I thought you were reported dead."

Sayori bared her teeth, a snarl rising from her throat. "You wish."

Tarkin stepped closer, his polished boots clicking against the floor. His gaze flickered briefly to the black-clad figures of Clone Force 99 trailing behind her. His lips curled into a thin, humorless smile. "Ah, the rogue squad. I see you've chosen your allies carefully."

Sayori didn't flinch. Her six eyes burned beneath her blindfold as she took a step forward, her fingers twitching toward the hilt of her lightsaber. "I choose loyalty. Something you wouldn't understand."

Tarkin's expression remained stoic, though his eyes gleamed with cold amusement. "Loyalty is earned through discipline, Commander. The Republic's failures have shown that the Jedi's version of loyalty breeds nothing but rebellion."

Sayori's growl deepened. "You mean loyalty through fear. Control."

"And it works." Tarkin's gaze hardened. "As you'll soon see."

Sayori took another step forward, her anger radiating off her in waves. "You experimented on my friend. You turned Echo into a tool. You think I've forgotten what you did on Skako Minor?"

Tarkin's brows lifted ever so slightly. "Ah, yes. The trooper who should have died on the Citadel. It was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. His survival was... an anomaly."

"An anomaly?" Sayori hissed, her voice laced with venom. "He's not an anomaly. He's a person."

Tarkin glanced at Nala Se, who remained eerily silent. "The Kaminoans provided the tools necessary for the Republic's survival. What we did with those tools... is none of your concern."

Sayori's grip on her lightsaber tightened, her anger flaring in the Force. She could feel Hunter, Echo, and the others shifting uneasily behind her, waiting for her next move.

"I've seen the price of your 'greater good,'" she spat. "And I won't let you turn any more clones into weapons."

Tarkin's smile returned, colder than before. "You're in no position to make threats, Commander. The galaxy has changed. The Republic is no more."

Sayori narrowed her eyes. "And neither are you."

With a sudden, swift motion, she ignited her lightsaber, the blue blade casting sharp reflections against the pristine walls. The clones behind her tensed, their hands hovering near their weapons, but Sayori remained still, her gaze locked on Tarkin.

Nala Se finally spoke, her voice calm and measured. "Commander Velmont, you must understand. The inhibitor chips are part of the clones' genetic programming. They ensure loyalty."

"Loyalty to who?" Sayori snapped. "The Republic? Or the Sith?"

Nala Se's lips pressed into a thin line, and Tarkin's expression soured at the mention of the Sith.

Sayori took a step closer, the hum of her lightsaber filling the silence. "We're done being your puppets."

Tarkin's hand hovered near his communicator. "I could have you arrested, Commander. Or worse."

Sayori's lips twisted into a smirk. "Go ahead. Try."

Before Tarkin could respond, a new voice echoed down the hall.

"She won't be alone."

Sayori turned, her heart clenching as she saw Crosshair stepping out of the shadows, rifle slung over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was clear — he was backing her.

Tarkin's gaze flicked between Crosshair and Sayori. "So... even the enhanced clones are falling out of line."

Sayori smirked. "Looks like your control isn't as perfect as you thought."

Tarkin scowled. "You're making a mistake."

Sayori deactivated her lightsaber, though she kept it in hand. "No. You made the mistake the moment you decided to turn my brothers into mindless soldiers. We're taking back our freedom."

She turned to Crosshair, her voice softening. "Let's go."

Crosshair gave a short nod, and together, they walked away from Tarkin and Nala Se, the rest of the Bad Batch falling into step behind them.

As they disappeared down the corridor, Tarkin's voice echoed after them.

"This isn't over."

Sayori glanced over her shoulder, her eyes burning with determination. "No... it's just beginning."