The Bad Batch: Tech and Vel

10. Injustice

When Vel woke up, she was on a starkly clean bunk, surrounded by every shade of grey. The throbbing in her head had quieted to a tender ache, and she took a moment to assess the situation. It had been months of self-hate, meaningless existence, and menial tasks just to get by. It had finally subsided into a simmering sense of disappointment, and suddenly here they all were, as if no time had passed, laying on a lower bunk on the Marauder. 

And there they were, asking for her help, nonetheless! She was torn, having yearned for nothing else in her initial weeks on Coruscant, kicking herself for not being enough to secure a spot within their brotherhood. She knew she would never have the ties that the clones had with each other, but she had hoped that her skill and willingness would be enough to make her worth having around.

But, as usual, it hadn't. This note was still ringing in her head when the door whooshed open and Tech entered, a small tray of food in his hands. His armor plates were noticeably absent, and he looked diminutive in just his blacks. 

"Ah, you are awake. Excellent," he assessed, "And how are you feeling?" 

"Better, thanks," Vel responded, indignance still her prominent train of thought. 

"I brought a variety of items, as I cannot remember what your particular food preferences were," Tech continued, "But this should be an adequate selection."

For some reason, that was enough to set her off. Vel propped herself up onto her elbows before sitting fully upright, feeling a surge of dizziness that only fueled her anger. The bunk over her head loomed dangerously close, and Tech sat the tray down on the bunk next to her. As he sat across from her, he was met with a furrowed brow instead of a grateful grin.

"What the kriff, Tech?" Vel started, swinging her legs off the side of the bed to sit fully facing him, "You drop me off like spare cargo when I'm not good enough for you all anymore, then you all just come tromping back into my life with an invite and expect me to hop to?"

He sat straighter, mouth opening with a half-formed thought, but she wasn't done.

"I get that Hunter didn't want me around. Whatever. But I thought you at least saw that I brought some value," she said, anger deflating to reveal the sadness beneath as she saw his eyes widen beneath his glasses. "I thought..." she fumbled for words. "I don't know," she finished pathetically.

Tech closed his mouth, pursing his lips in thought before replying. It felt like ages before he spoke, "I was unaware of Hunter's choice and his conversation with you until we were en route to Naboo. I did not agree with his decision, nor did I see the risk he perceived so greatly, but he is our sergeant, and thus I was compelled to comply."

There was a duality of emotions in Vel's reaction to his words. She found herself feeling both grateful and hopeful at his admittance that he hadn't exactly agreed with Hunter beforehand, but there was a distinct sense of letdown as well at his assertion that he didn't see the risk. Had she completely imagined it all? Did he not see it as a risk, or did he not see anything at all?

Her lack of further verbal assault allowed him the space to continue. 

"However, as we are clearing the air between us, if I am accurate in that assessment," he ventured, "I would like to share that I found your company to be extremely pleasant. You alluded to a lack of value, assuming that it would be determined by your mechanical prowess, but I think it is incorrect to fully place one's value on their contributions to the needs of the team. I also am aware of the irony of that statement, being a clone created for one sole directive and therefore having a relatively singular measure of value, but I have truly been surprised by your continual cynicism toward your purpose in life and lack of awareness of your multifaceted worth."