#and if any of his brothers were taken to tantiss

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair is fuckin selfish, he knew how to get to Tantiss THE WHOLE TIME, but withholds it because of “trauma”, which is an awful excuse, he reveals that he knows how he their once OMEGA gets captured, showing that he only cares about his squad, not his other brothers, he could have told Echo all about Rampart, and Echo, Rex, Gregor, and Howzer could have ran the entire mission to get Rampart and get to Tantiss earlier

Crosshair never changed, he is still the selfish bully that was introduced to us on Anaxes

While I respect your opinion, I disagree with your take that Crosshair has never changed. He is a very complicated character who has been through a lot. And he has changed. He has learned that loyalty belongs to those who will reciprocate it and treat him with respect.

To your point about him not saying anything do to trauma, I argue that it isn't an awful excuse. The mind is a truly powerful thing and when you are in constant survival mode, you will do things that others will raise eyebrows at. Crosshair DOES NOT want to go back at any cost. He was badly hurt physically and psychologically. From his perspective, withholding information will protect both himself and his squad from going back there. As someone who has pretty bad anxiety at times, I sympathize with him. I don't say that lightly.

To your point about Omega, yes he only really goes back for her. Omega is the one person throughout the entire show who always tried to understand him. Crosshair is a character driven by his loyalty to others, especially his brothers and Omega. When the person who is the literal light of his life gets taken, it makes sense that goes back for her.

To your point about him being selfish, I do think he is. His one and true loyalty will always be to his squad. But that doesn't mean he hasn't learned to work alongside his fellow brothers. He literally risked his life to save Mayday. And I firmly don't believe that S3 Crosshair would say "he's just another reg." He's grown from that. You're right that he could've just told Echo and Rex and leave the rest to them. But at the same time, I think it's worth looking at things from his perspective. He wants to avoid Tantiss and anything to do with it. If that means not saying a peep, then that's what he'll do.

At the end of the day, Crosshair is a very nuanced character. Is he selfish? Yes. But I don't think it's fair to say that he has never changed. He has come a long way since we first met him on Anaxes.

[dindjarindiaries]

At Victory's End

summary: You help Hunter to recover from the lasting effects of Hemlock’s torture on Tantiss.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: season 3 finale spoilers, mentions of torture, trauma, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.051k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You paced the floor of the shuttle as you kept your gaze fixed on the opened hatch. You, Echo, and Wrecker had already gotten the clones settled, and now you were only waiting on Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega—assuming all had gone well.

It was a waiting game, and it felt like you were losing.

Until you finally saw the image of the three of them in the distance, with Omega walking in between the two brothers. Hunter and Crosshair were both hunched over as if they were in pain, a sight that instantly brought a fearful chill to your chest as you began to hurry down the ramp to meet them in the middle.

“Sunny!” Omega called out your nickname with sweet relief. She ran forward to meet you, and you instantly caught her in your embrace.

You closed your eyes as you cupped the back of her head and let out a relieved exhale. “It’s so good to have you back, sweet angel.” You gained the strength to pull away from her as you held her shoulders and gave her a quick once-over. “Are you okay?”

Omega nodded, gesturing with her head to the two men behind her. “Thanks to them.”

You smiled, though your lips instantly straightened in severity again when you took note of Hunter and Crosshair’s weary faces. Your voice lowered as you asked Omega another question. “How are they?”

Omega grimaced, and that was enough for your worry to spike even more than before. You had already been caught up to speed on Crosshair’s hand by Wrecker, but he had told you that he didn’t remember much else. All he might’ve heard was Hunter’s pained screaming, which had already had you seized by the most horrible feeling imaginable.

“Sunny,” Crosshair suddenly huffed out, as if it had taken him a great effort just to speak. Omega stepped aside to let you face him, and your heart fell straight into your stomach. Crosshair was nearly keeled over at the weight Hunter was placing on him—his deadweight. Hunter’s eyes were also fluttering closed in a way that made it seem like he might fall unconscious at any moment.

You recovered from your shock at the sight and took Hunter from Crosshair, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and letting your adrenaline take his heavy weight. He let out a half-hearted groan as his free hand gripped his side, and his head fell towards yours. Your voice was a haunted version of its usual self as you spoke. “What happened?”

Hunter couldn’t speak. Your throat tightened with worry as Crosshair offered an explanation. “Hemlock.” He let out a grunt of his own as Omega offered him support. “He… put us under the conditioning.”

Your brow shot up at that. “Conditioning?”

Crosshair exhaled and shook his head. “Torture. A shock treatment to encourage conditioning. And for Hunter…” He trailed off. He didn’t need to say it.

But you did. “His senses.”

The words barely made a sound as they left your tongue, and you were immediately hit with a rush of concern like never before. It stole your breath for a moment, but you caught yourself with a quick inhale and focused on Hunter. His head was almost fully leaning against yours, the small pieces of hair soaked by the rain still sticking to his forehead. His eyes had almost fully closed.

“Stay with me, love,” you murmured, willing all your strength to push the two of you ahead towards the shuttle. “You’re okay now. I’m here.”

After a few slow steps, Hunter tried to speak, and the sound sent a sharp jolt of relief to your heart. “Sun…”

You stopped for a moment and lifted a hand to his head, sweeping away some of the wet hair from his face. “Yeah. It’s me.” You ran your knuckles over his cheek and smiled at him the best you could.

Hunter’s eyes fluttered again as he tried to keep them open. His own relief still wasn’t lost on you. “She’s okay.”

You looked over his shoulder and saw Omega and Crosshair behind you, as if they were waiting to help you and Hunter if you needed it. You smiled even wider and nodded. “That’s right. You and Crosshair saved her.”

You began to push onwards again, slowly but surely closing the distance to the open hatch. Hunter had one more thing to say as you did so. “You’re okay?”

You nodded at him. “Yes, Hunter. I’m just fine.” You tightened your grasp on his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s just focus on you for once. Okay?”

Hunter huffed then groaned, his head resting against yours again as you got him on board. The obvious fight he was putting up gave you hope, but you still felt devastated just by the thought of what he’d gone through. That type of torture would be unbearable for anyone, but for someone with Hunter’s enhanced senses, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful it was.

The thought alone brought tears to your eyes that you swiftly fought away. Everything was okay, and he would be okay, too—even if it was hard to see him in such a state.

As you got the two of you onto the shuttle, you were immediately approached by Echo, who took Hunter’s other arm. “How is he?” Echo asked you.

“Responsive.” You looked over at Hunter and watched his eyes flutter again.

“That’s good.” Echo gestured with his head over to where Wrecker was sitting on the floor. “We’ve got Wrecker some med patches, and he’s in pretty good shape.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your tone was genuine, despite the way your worried mind was still set on Hunter. “Crosshair seems like he’s doing all right, too.”

“Good.” Echo’s voice revealed his own relief. “I was worried when Wrecker told me about his hand.”

Your heart ached for Crosshair for a moment. “Yeah. Looks like they at least sealed it off for him.”

Echo gave you a quick glance, his gaze darting over to Hunter as he did so. “I can help you get him somewhere quiet. I think he needs that.”

You offered Echo an appreciative smile. “I agree.”

It was then that Hunter tried to speak up again. “I’m fine.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure.” Your hand on his arm lowered until his fingers were entwined with your own. “But you would still love to be somewhere quiet right now, wouldn’t you?”

Hunter closed his eyes and nodded, and for a moment, you feared that he had finally fallen under. You studied him until his eyes fluttered again, and you exhaled your fearful breath as Echo continued to lead the two of you up the lift and to a private corridor.

“Here.” Echo helped you set Hunter down, and groaned at the movement. Once he was settled, his hand still in yours, Echo stood back up. “I’ll get a medpac for you. Once I’m sure everyone’s on board, I’ll be taking us straight to Pabu.”

You could’ve cried at the sheer relief you felt that this nightmare was truly coming to an end, but your concern for Hunter’s current state overpowered it. “Thank you, Echo.”

Echo nodded, setting a reassuring hand on your shoulder before he disappeared from the corridor. You took a deep breath for composure as you focused on Hunter, whose eyes were closed once again as his head rested against the interior hull.

You were gentle as you released his hand to instead hold the sides of his face. “Hunter.” Your voice was so soft even you nearly missed it, your thumbs brushing under his eyes in another attempt to gain his attention. When he didn’t make a move or say a word, you let your concern get the best of you. “Hunter, please.”

His eyes at least opened at your desperation. You wished so badly you could stay as calm for him as he always did for you and everyone else, but with the way things had gone ever since Omega was taken on Pabu, it was truly an impossible task. Each minute that ticked away without him or the others near you made you expect the worst. To see him alive was a relief, but to see him so out of it was still terrifying.

Hunter tried to speak, but he quickly tightened his jaw as his expression contorted in pain. You watched him fight to keep his eyes open again, his teeth gritting in his effort to do so. Your brow knit together as you gave him a once-over, and quickly, you saw what was happening. His right hand shook just as Crosshair’s used to, but it was more violent in the immediate aftershocks of what had happened to him.

You took his trembling hand and lifted it to your face, loosening his fingers for him and splaying them across your cheek. Your gaze remained in his the entire time, and as you secured his hand to you, you watched the pain and fear slowly begin to leave his brown eyes. It filled you with a relief to potent that you were yet again brought to tears, but you still refused to shed them.

“There you go.” Your praise for him was another gentle whisper as you ran soothing circles over the back of his hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

Hunter’s eyes closed again, but that time, you could tell it was purely in his own relief. You pressed a gentle kiss to his gloved palm even as your worry began to exchange itself for an all-consuming rage.

Hemlock had done this to him. Not just him, either, but also Wrecker, Crosshair, and so many others. He had to be dead. You wouldn’t stand for it if he wasn’t.

As if sensing your thoughts, Hunter opened his eyes to look at you the best he could. “He’s gone.” He swallowed hard as his weak thumb ran over your cheek. You couldn’t help smiling at the sweet action. “We… made sure of it.”

“Good.” You held tight to his hand and wrist as you composed yourself with another breath. “We couldn’t leave him alive. Not after all he’s done.”

Before you or Hunter could say anything more, you heard Echo returning. You lowered Hunter’s hand from your face to look at him. Echo was carrying medpac as well as a blanket, both of which he handed to you with a sympathetic smile. “Here you go, Sunny.”

You set the supplies down to hold Echo’s hands between yours for a moment. “Thank you, Echo.”

Echo tilted his head at you. “You know you don’t have to thank me.” He nodded at you. “We’re family.”

That made your lips widen even more. “We are.”

Echo returned your smile before he stepped away, guaranteeing your and Hunter’s privacy for now. You set your focus on caring for him, beginning with the removal of his wet pieces of armor. He looked as if he was going to try to help you, but you stopped him, setting a firm hand on his chest until he relaxed once again. There was a small smile that tugged on his lips as you continued your work, not stopping until all the upper pieces of his armor had been set aside. You then set the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it close together under his neck.

You held on to the corners of the fabric and kept yourself close to him. Studying the flecks of his eyes that were still slightly dazed, you began to crumble as your adrenaline wore off. There were too many close calls. Hunter had been tortured, and you weren’t there to help him. He had to face down the man who had done it, not just to him but to many of your loved ones, and you weren’t there to support him.

It had been a long, terrifying mission, yet he was still here, and so were you.

Hunter was the one to act first. His hand rose to the side of your face as he encouraged you to rest your forehead against his. You remained gentle, still wary of his frayed senses as you touched him. “It’s okay.” Hunter’s voice was no more than a rasp, but it was still much stronger than it had been before. That gave you hope, a feeling so sweet that it only made the tears in your eyes even harder to resist. “Just like you said before.”

His other arm wrapped itself around you, encouraging you to fully relax into his side. His head was still resting against your own even as he cradled you against him. Hunter took the corner of the blanket on your side and lifted it so that the two of you were sharing its warmth.

You began to shake your head, the swirling emotions of the day—especially the guilt—beginning to swallow you whole. “I should be helping you.”

Hunter raised his brow at you. “You are helping me.” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there even as he went on. “You were all I needed.”

The sweetness of his words nearly healed you in a single, softening blow, but another angle you took on them shattered that illusion in a heartbreaking way. “You needed me,” you nearly cried, “and I wasn’t there.”

Hunter lifted himself from your head, his gaze looking horrified as he realized exactly what you were going through. “No.” He shook his head and cupped the side of your face with his gloved hand. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant.” His thumb caught one of your tears the moment it left your lashes. “I’m relieved you weren’t there. It was dangerous. I…” he paused, circling his jaw as he considered his words, “I snapped when I realized Omega was there, and that she was in danger. I even impaled one of the assassins.”

You blinked through your tears and tightened your jaw in hardly concealed anger for your enemies. “Good.”

Hunter huffed, clearly amused by your vengeful spirit as he went on. “What I meant was…” Hunter had to pause again. His expression began to fall in a worry so genuine that it made your chest ache all over again. “I didn’t know what had happened to you. After we got Hemlock and saved Omega, I knew that everyone was okay—except for you.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours again. “I needed to know.”

You set your hand over his, hoping to reassure him. “I’m okay.”

Hunter reopened his eyes and lifted the corner of his mouth. “Now I know. And, as you can see, it’s already helped me recover.” He ran his thumb over your cheek again as he nodded, minding your head against his own. “I’m okay, too.”

Still, the memory of Wrecker describing Hunter’s screams mixed with what you had already seen and inferred was too much for you to handle. Your vision began to blur again as you spoke through the knot in your throat. “I’m sorry this happened to you.” You closed your eyes and resisted the urge to tremble in your utter grief for him. “I’m so sorry.”

Hunter held you more closely, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin to gently tilt your head up more at him. It encouraged you to reopen your eyes and meet his warm, calming gaze. “You never have to apologize on behalf of our enemies.” His eyes lowered from yours for a moment before he raised them again. “It wasn’t easy, but we did it. We completed the mission.” Hunter’s lips began to stretch in a warm smile that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “We’re all free.”

As the truth of his words began to sink in, you returned his smile, relief finally pouring over you in uncontrollable waves. No longer was the sickening devastation of what he had been through; instead, all you could feel was the sweet, sweet feeling of a victory that was well-earned. “We did it.”

Hunter’s gaze glittered more as he watched you share in his joy. His thumb ran over your chin as he went on. “Now that we’re free…” his nose brushed yours, “how does a lifetime on Pabu sound?”

You could’ve sobbed right there at the idea of the dream you’d longed for actually coming true, but you were too caught up in your shared affection to give in to anything except for him. “That sounds perfect.”

With that, Hunter kissed you with all the strength he had left, each movement of his lips against yours a gentle promise of what was still to come. You were more than happy to lose yourself in him and the future that was finally in reach, even if all you had to grasp onto physically in that moment was his wet locks of hair. You took your time with him just as he did with you, knowing that at long last, it was finally on your side.

When you parted, you stayed close together, your hands braced upon his chest as you raised your brow at him. A genuine wave of concern washed over you as you spoke to him. “Was that too overwhelming for your senses?”

Hunter offered a reassuring smile in return. “Only in the best way.” He gave you a quick kiss before he encouraged you to lean fully against him, silently urging you to seek rest with him in a way he desperately needed. You obliged, your head resting upon the inside of his shoulder and chest as you closed your eyes in sweet relief.

It hadn’t been easy, and it sure as hell would still take lots of healing for everyone, but it was truly worth it. All of you were finally free, and you were going to take advantage of every sacrifice that made your freedom possible—starting with the time you and Hunter had been given to simply rest.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr 

[green-alm0nd]

[Echo x gn!reader]: Lazy mornings

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Summary:

After Tantiss was destroyed, your significant other takes a few days of rest on Pabu before going back to working with Rex.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Tooth-rotting fluff, short and sweet. That's it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

----

The early morning Sun bothered your eyes, yellow and orange rays making your face feel warm. The warmth bothered you, so you turned around. The breeze that gently moved the curtains reached your body, and made you stir.

Your eyes fluttered open, just to see a beautiful sight opposite you.

Echo, your significant other, peacefully sleeping next to you. It made you sigh. He had always had trouble sleeping because of his nightmares, but he seemed so relaxed and you could tell he felt safe.

Your hands crawled below his shirt, seeking for warmth. Echo let out a low grunt in response, letting out a sigh and slowly opening his eyes. He stared at you for a few seconds, before wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer to him.

"Go back to sleep." He grumbled.

You let out a small giggle, your hands hugging his waist.

"Weren't you supposed to be a clone trooper that got up early to do tasks?" You teased, in a quiet voice.

He grunted again in response, his lips gently pressing against your forehead.

"Tantiss has been destroyed. I've saved my brothers, I deserve one day of not worrying. At least two" He muttered lazily.

You leaned into his touch, smiling softly.

"Hey, I'm not complaining." You responded.

He stretched, and so did you. The morning sun didn't bother you anymore, thanks to your boyfriend. You pecked his lips, before yawning and sitting back up. You didn't leave the bed, and instead sat up again the bedframe.

Echo closed his eyes, leaning on your chest, feeling your heartbeat. You were there, with him. You were alive, it wasn't a dream. It was real. You were real. Listening to your heart beating made him forget about the recent events that had taken place inside Tantiss, and the pressure, and the stress, and tye overwhelming sense of drowning finally coming to a rest.

You gazed at the warm Sun of Pabu, hearing the seagulls screech, yet not annoyed by it. The faint smell of sea salt invaded your nostrils, and you felt relaxed, calm. Hunter had been right when he suggested for Echo to stay on Pabu until Rex called him to go back to base. The clone, of course, happily obliged, and figured it was best to spend time with his family before he had to leave.

And yeah, it was disappointing to see that Echo would have to leave at some point, but you'd worry later. You wanted to focus on the future, on him being right there with you.

"Has Rex told you about when you have to go back to base?" You asked, softly.

Echo shook his head.

"Not yet, but probably in less than a week." He replied.

To this, you nodded, you had plenty of time to spend with him.

Eventually, you both decided to leave your shared bed, and went to the kitchen.

He made some caf for both of you, and handed you one mug. You muttered a small 'thanks', before gazing out the window.

The waves of the shore gently crashing against the sand, repeating the process over and over again. It was calming, and honestly pretty therapeutic.

Echo spun you around, mug still in hand, and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. You quickly reciprocated the kiss, leaving your own mug on a nearby table. His lips left a taste of caf in yours, one that you weren't against, and definitely not bothered by.

He pulled away, drinking from his mug and sighing in delight.

"So, any plans for today?" He asked.

"Uh- I think we need to meet up with the squad in a few minutes." You responded, suddenly remembering that you had promised to attend.

"It can wait." He shrugged, nonchalantly.

You laughed.

"Who are you and what have you done with Arc Trooper Echo?" You asked, raising a playful eyebrow.

Echo chuckled lightly.

"Hey, I didn't say we wouldn't meet up, I said it can wait. I'm not going to be here for a while and I want to spend more time with you." He responded.

You headed to the sink, to wash your mug.

"Alright, fine. But if we get called off, it's on you, mister." You remarked, joking.

He didn't answer, instead, he wrapped his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, making sure his scomp link wouldn't hurt you.

"I want to spend time with you. And I want to show you that you're important to me. You matter to me, and I haven't been the most...close to you recently since I was with Rex all the time. But I want to prove to you that you're important to me." He confessed.

"I know I don't usually get this sappy, but it's the truth. You matter to me. And I love you. More than anything." He added.

You blushed, and turned around, staring at his dark brown eyes. You pressed your lips against his.

"I love you too, Echo."

You pulled away, kissing his forehead.

"Let's hope you didn't say all of that just to convince me to go later to meet up with the squad." You joked.

He huffed, giving you a half-hearted smile.

"Trust me, I did." He joked back, playfully nudging you.

----

It's short, I wrote it really quickly, but life has been pretty crappy and I needed to write some heartwarming fluff to stop overthinking.

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open!

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Out of His Depth

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 8 | Prompt: Swimming Lessons

Summary: Omega asks for advice in giving swimming lessons. Crosshair begrudgingly discovers a new talent. POV: Crosshair Rating: G (Word Count: 2847)

Read on Ao3

Notes: I can't help but think of Crosshair being the grumpy-uncle type who's adored by everyone on Pabu, especially the younger crowd (and he loves the kids too, but will never openly admit it, and will never understand why they like him so much). And I've been thinking a lot about what his early interactions might have been like with Jax, Eva, Sami, and Bayrn. And then the "swimming lesson" prompt popped up. Behold the result.

Also, I'm a huge Tech Lives believer, but this story takes place a month or two after the finale events on Tantiss, so in my headcanon Tech hasn't made it back to his family quite yet.

Omega walked wearily up to the group and plopped down on the warm sand with a sigh.

Crosshair eyed her questioningly. “What’s with you?”

“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled as she rested her chin in her hand, staring out over the tranquil Pabu waters.

“About what?” Hunter asked, leaning toward Omega as Wrecker and Phee turned their attention to the conversation.

 “Helping Sami so she’s not afraid of the water,” Omega replied, nodding toward the tiny Pantoran who was currently sitting squarely in the middle of the nearby dock, waving to the boats passing by.

Phee had just returned to Pabu, and since it was Phee’s first time seeing Omega since the Batch’s return from Tantiss, it was decided that a beach day was in order. With Shep, Lyana, Mox, Deke, Stak, Jax, Eva, Sami, and Bayrn also joining the party, it had been a full and eventful day. Phee had been in her element for several hours regaling the younger crowd with tales of her exploits; given that Omega had excitedly requested several specific stories, it was clear the others had already heard about many of Phee’s adventures. Crosshair, meanwhile, had listened skeptically and wondered how often Tech had tried fact-checking these stories.

It wasn’t quite as painful to think of Tech now, not since Crosshair had finally convinced himself to visit the impromptu memorial Omega had set up for their brother in the Archeum. Still, Crosshair had found himself wishing more than once that Tech could have been here with them during this beach day – if only so Crosshair could have teased him relentlessly about his pirate girlfriend.

It had been later in the afternoon that Bayrn had been taken in for a nap, Shep and Lyana had taken Jax, Eva, and the former cadets out on the boat, and Sami had approached Omega to ask for swimming lessons. “Jax and Eva know how to swim,” Sami had said. “I’d like to try it.” And Omega had happily agreed, taking Sami to the relatively shallow natural pool at the far end of this stretch of beach, while the brothers filled Phee in more on what had happened since Tantiss and the slow progress being made toward finding the children’s families.

Given what Omega was now reporting, Crosshair would hazard a guess that Sami’s family had never made her enter a large body of water.

“Did she not know swimming involves getting in the water?” Crosshair asked Omega now.

Omega furrowed her brows in thought. “Oh, she knew, but I don’t think she really thought about putting her head in the water.” A pause, then “Or any part of her body above her knees. She doesn’t mind getting wet – I tried dumping some water over her head and she was fine with it - she’s just afraid of getting into a pool of water.”

“Just push her in,” Crosshair shrugged offhandedly. Realizing from the looks he was now receiving that the others thought he had been serious, he contrarily decided to defend his statement rather than explain he had been joking. “What? That’s what the trainers on Kamino did to me. And we were about the same age she is.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Phee remarked drily as she gazed appraisingly at him.

“A lot about what??”

“About you.”

Oh, yes, Tech and Phee had to have gotten along great together, Crosshair groused internally, before Hunter spoke up again. “That’s how the trainers made you learn how to swim, Crosshair, and you are an excellent swimmer; but I don’t think it will help with our objective of making Sami less afraid of the water.” Turning back to Omega, who was still staring with no small amount of exasperation at Crosshair, Hunter continued, “What else have you tried?”

Still halfway tuned in to the conversation, Crosshair thought back to those earliest days on Kamino, when cadets began their swimming training when they were, developmentally speaking, seven or eight years old. There had been no time, sympathy, nor resources for individual attention, however; cadets were taught to swim in groups of twenty, and had to find a way to keep up or be dismissed from training. During their first class, Crosshair had only slightly hesitated when tasked with jumping into the training pool, and one breath later had found himself unexpectedly submerged in the water, gasping for air and frantically trying to stay afloat, having been shoved into the pool by the trainer who had shouted at him that he could either sink or swim.

Well, Crosshair had quickly learned how to swim, but had also discovered that he hated being in or near the water, despite having been surrounded by the ocean since birth, and approached swimming lessons with significant dread that was overpowered only by his stubborn determination to not be decommissioned. This loathing of large bodies of water had lasted for almost two months, until one night when he had been awoken by Hunter, who had told him in a whisper that the squad was “sneaking out.” They had never been so daring before, and Crosshair, excited by the prospect, had raised no objection – until he had discovered they were sneaking out to the training pools, the last place he ever wanted to be. Still, he had stayed quiet, and had been relieved when “sneaking out” didn’t involve actually swimming. Instead, he and Hunter and Wrecker and Tech had spent an hour just sitting at the side of the pool, kicking their feet quietly in the cool water, listening to Tech ramble on about the aquatic life on Kamino until Wrecker’s snores drowned out Tech’s lecture and Hunter suggested they all return to the barracks. These sporadic outings had continued for months –always spending time near water, always by the training pools until Tech figured out a route to a rarely-used landing platform built low near the water where they could sit and enjoy the salty air and crashing waves in closer proximity – until they had a close call with being discovered and had subsequently deferred sneaking out of the barracks for almost a year. Still, after just a few relaxed trips to the pools with his brothers, Crosshair had abruptly realized he no longer hated the water – actually, he rather enjoyed it, and swimming had gradually become an activity he looked forward to rather than feared.

He hadn’t thought about those times by the pools for years, and it was only now, sitting here on the Pabu beach listening to Omega’s troubles with Sami’s swimming lessons, that he suddenly suspected Hunter and his brothers had had ulterior motives for choosing the pools as their first destination for their rebellious outings.

And he had an idea.

“Have you tried holding Sami? You know, picking her up and, well, walking into the water with her?” Crosshair interjected into the ongoing brainstorming session.

Omega shook her head slowly. “I thought about that, but Sami didn’t want to try because she thinks she’s too big for me to hold her…”

“I can do it,” Wrecker promptly volunteered. “If she’s up for it, that is.”

Omega still hesitated. “The pool’s not very deep…”

Wrecker thought for a moment before nodding. “I can just sit in the water. We’ll figure it out.”

Omega suddenly broke out into a smile and rose to her feet before grabbing Wrecker’s hand. “Okay then, let’s go talk to Sami about it.” She took a few steps before looking back at the others. “You all coming?”

Hunter shrugged. “Why not,” he said, rising from his chair and whistling for Batcher to join them.

Crosshair, standing and preparing to follow, felt Phee’s eyes on him and turned to look at her. “What now?” he asked impatiently.

Phee chuckled a little as she shook her head. “Like I said, that explains a lot,” she said cryptically, before passing Crosshair to join Omega and Wrecker as they approached the docks where Sami still sat. 

******

Crosshair stepped onto the dock, waving only slightly awkwardly at Jun’s profuse thanks for his assistance in loading the boat, and made his way back toward the residential areas of Lower Pabu. 

He was fully aware of Sami standing a few feet away from the dock, holding Bayrn in her arms, but he had no idea the Pantoran was waiting for him until he had almost passed her and she suddenly spoke in a low voice that was nearly inaudible. 

“Mister Crosshair, sir?” 

He paused in bewilderment before turning to face her, and realized he must be scowling based on the apprehensive look on the young girl's face. Making an effort to relax his features - no need to intimidate her, after all - he elected to delay correcting her form of addressing him and instead cut straight to the point. 

“What do you want?”

She shrank back ever so slightly - hmmm, maybe his voice had come out a little sharper than he intended - but proceeded to make her request. 

“Would you hold Bayrn while Omega gives me a swimming lesson?”

Crosshair was far too nonplussed now to consider his expression or his tone.

“What?”

Sami gulped. “Uh, well, Omega's going to give me another swimming lesson now. Bayrn’s too little to swim, but I thought maybe he could get used to the water. It took me so long to stop being afraid, maybe it will be easier for Bayrn if he can be in the water now.”

The girl's full meaning finally dawned on Crosshair, and he looked at her aghast. 

“You… you want me to get into the water. And hold that kid. In the water?”

“Uh-huh,” Sami nodded, adjusting her hold on the baby. “It helped me a lot when Mister Wrecker held on to me. I would ask him, but him and Mister Hunter are out fishing and Mister Shep is busy and Mister Thom and Missus Hanti are getting dinner ready for us and…”

Peripherally noting that if Sami was persisting in calling even Wrecker “Mister,” he, Crosshair, would have to get used to being called by the same title, Crosshair cut her off. “I get the point. There's no one else. I'm glad you know I am a last resort. But I don't think I should be holding a kid.” And he frowned as he raised his arms in front of him, staring at his right stump. 

He hadn't gotten a prosthesis yet. He didn't even know if he wanted one. Echo had gone for years without one and had pulled off so many incredible feats Crosshair had often forgotten Echo was missing a hand. He doubted he'd ever reach Echo's level of skill, but he had been able to find new ways to accomplish more each day with just the one hand, and was growing rather accustomed to it. Still, holding a baby…

“Oh, you can hold Bayrn with one arm. It's easy. My dad does it all the time. He got his arm hurt bad in an accident so he had to hold my little brother like this, see?” And Sami shifted Bayrn to demonstrate. 

“You have a brother?” Crosshair asked as he observed Sami’s technique.

She had finally lost her apprehensive look, and now she actually smiled a little. “Yeah. I can't wait to see him again. I hope I can help him learn to swim too.” 

Sighing, Crosshair decided it was time to stop delaying the inevitable. He could come up with at least two dozen more reasons why he shouldn't accede to this request, but he knew that, no matter how much he may protest, he'd be in the pool holding the baby within the next few minutes. Might as well get this over with. 

“Fine. Let's go. No, wait,” he said as Sami started trotting off, “give me the kid now. I need to practice.” Before the kid becomes slippery as well as squirmy, he thought resignedly to himself. 

He may have reservations about holding the baby, but Bayrn’s own sense of self-preservation was obviously seriously impaired, for the baby cooed and smiled as he was passed over to the nervously scowling clone. If Crosshair wondered if maybe he was holding the baby too tightly for fear of dropping him, the baby didn't seem to mind, happily clapping before turning his attention toward examining his new holder. 

By the time they found Omega, Bayrn had thankfully released his death grip on Crosshair's ear and stopped his high-pitched excited squealing, and had settled into happily patting Crosshair's face. Omega, turning at Sami’s greeting, waved at them and impressively showed no sign of surprise or alarm at her sniper brother holding a baby. Instead, she called out cheerfully, “Crosshair! What are you doing here?”

He shrugged awkwardly, reactively adjusting his hold on Bayrn when the kid tipped forward while reaching out toward Omega. 

“Swimming lessons,” he said. 

“Oh?”

“I don't want Bayrn to be scared of the water, like I was,” Sami explained. “Mister Crosshair said he'd help.”

“Oh!” Omega nodded solemnly at Sami, but grinned so brightly at Crosshair he started to feel even more embarrassed than he already was. Letting out a slightly grumpy hmph, he stepped ahead of the girls into the pool, quickly finding an area of suitable depth where he could sit just about chest deep in the pleasantly cool water, and squinting as Bayrn squealed in delight and began splashing his little arms in the water. 

This was his punishment for ever poking fun at Hunter’s skills with children. At least Hunter wasn't around to witness Crosshair's humiliation in person, though Crosshair had no doubt Hunter and Wrecker and everyone else on this overly-friendly island would know about this event by sundown. 

“I don't think the kid is scared at all of the water,” he said to Sami while frowning at Bayrn's antics.

“Oh good! Yay Bayrn!” Sami smiled, clinging to Omega's hand as she cautiously stepped into the water herself. 

This was not exactly the response Crosshair had been angling for.

“You picked a great place to sit, Crosshair,” Omega said, pre-empting Crosshair's plea to somehow get out of this. “You can watch and tell me if I'm teaching Sami alright.”

“Oh goodie,” he deadpanned, though he smiled a little when Sami took a deep, nervous breath before plunging her head into the water and emerging looking rather pleased with herself. 

“Good, Sami. You're getting much better,” Omega smiled. “I think it’s time to show you how to not hold your breath all the time.”

“But I can’t breathe underwater,” Sami said.

“That’s right,” Omega said patiently. “You breathe in the air when your head is above water, and then breathe out when your head is in the water.”  

“Try blowing bubbles,” Crosshair blurted before thinking. At Sami’s questioning stare, he added in a tone completely devoid of enthusiasm, “It's fun.” 

For some reason, Sami took him at his word, nodding at him and watching Omega demonstrate before gamely trying it herself, giggling when she straightened. “That is fun,” she declared before, unprompted, repeating the task. 

“NOT you,” Crosshair warned Bayrn, who, having watched the display with interest, abruptly tried ducking his head toward the water to mimic the girls. Bayrn, obviously a bit put out, huffed for a few moments before suddenly smiling and resuming his splashing. 

By the time Thom and Hanti arrived to take Sami and Bayrn back home for dinner, Omega had started Sami on basic flutter kicks, with Crosshair – finding himself significantly interested in the proceedings in spite of himself – offering a few suggestions for improvement. His left arm felt like it was about to fall off from holding Bayrn for so long, even as he had daringly switched the baby to his right arm and discovered to his own pleasant surprise that this was quite manageable; and, to his own dismay, had found himself pondering how to best position Bayrn to help the kid get used to floating, so the arrival of the volunteer guardians couldn't have come at a better time. Still, he couldn’t hold back a sigh as he handed Bayrn over to Thom – yep, within an hour EVERYONE would know he had held a baby.

Omega playfully shouldered him as they trailed behind the children and their guardians on the way back to Upper Pabu, and Crosshair braced himself for what he knew she was going to say, even as he realized he had been rather hoping she would say it.

“You know, Crosshair, you'd make a really good swimming teacher.”

“Ha.”

“Provided you don't push any kids into the water.”

“Don't tempt me.”

“No, I mean it! You should start giving lessons.”

“Never gonna happen.”

******

Surprising to no one except, perhaps, Crosshair, it happened.

A few days later, Crosshair found himself confronted by Jax.

“Do you know how to dive?” the young Mirialan asked.

“Yes,” Crosshair answered shortly.

“Can you teach me?”

“No.”

Within a week, Crosshair had given Jax his first two diving lessons.

Within a year, Crosshair had become the go-to instructor on Pabu for swimming lessons.

The end. 

@summer-of-bad-batch

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Thoughts on the Batch's Ending

Ooookay. This is going to be a long one. (Little note from Steph who just finished writing this: it’s nearly 3000 words…)

Tagging @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings and @eriexplosion because I value their thoughts (but I'm also not demanding that you read 3000 words of waffle)

I’ve had a lot of thoughts about the finale of The Bad Batch and honestly, my mind is a bit of a mess right now. One of the things I just want to try and tackle is how I feel about the ending of each Batch member individually, because while I can look at it and say “The Batch got a happy ending!”, I feel like that doesn’t really give me much of an idea of whether or not each character got an ending that I feel is fitting for their story arc.

So, this post is basically just going to be me unpicking the ending for each of the Batchers and working out how I feel about it (aka me trying to unscramble the mass load of thoughts going on in my head right now). 

Omega

Overall, I’m very happy with where Omega ended up. When you look back on how she was when we first met her, you realise just how much she has grown over the last few seasons. She didn’t just learn to be a part of the squad, she also learned how to look after herself. It isn’t just a development of her skillset, it’s also a growth in maturity, which allows her to have a clearer head and more rational decisions in the field. While Omega trusted her brothers to come and rescue her, she didn’t just sit around and wait for them, she hatched her own plan to not only get her and the other children out, but also help the Batch when they arrive at Tantiss.

Like Echo, she strongly believes in helping people and I love that that has carried through into her ending. While it would have been nice for her to live a quiet life, free of any more troubles, it makes complete sense for her to want to join the Rebellion. And I think it was at a good time as well. Omega got to spend the rest of her childhood being raised in a more peaceful, safe environment, before making the decision a few years down the line to go her own way. This is her leaving the nest and I think it was tackled incredibly well. You can see how she has taken on attributes from all of her brothers, and judging by her style choice, Phee as well. We see Omega using the support of her brothers to carve her own path and I love that.

Personally, I can’t really see a more fitting development in her story than this. And I’m reluctant to actually call it an ending because for her, this feels more like the beginning of a new chapter. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if we saw her again later down the road.

Hunter

Now those who follow me may be aware that Hunter was never my favourite member of the Batch. I didn’t dislike him, but I never really connected with him in the same way that I connected with all of the other characters. Saying that, it doesn’t mean I haven’t given a lot of thought to him and his character.

Hunter always had a lot on his shoulders. He was the leader of the Batch and that meant keeping a rag-tag group of defective clones in line, but it also left him with the belief that if anything were to happen to his squad, it would be his responsibility. So, with Crosshair and Omega stuck with the Empire, and Tech dead, Hunter had a lot to carry. At the beginning of Season 3 we saw that he had become more reckless and irrational, not really thinking about plans and wanting to jump straight into things. It was Wrecker who had to step in and make sure Hunter didn’t do anything stupid. Hunter felt like he lost control and that took a lot out of him, especially since this is something I think he could feel creeping up on him throughout Season 2, even if he tried to fight it. The Batch had started to make decisions without him, and Omega was forming close attachments to other people, which was digging a knife into Hunter’s fear of losing his squad. So S3 saw him trying everything he could to reunite the Batch, because he couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

And he achieved that. But what I also deeply appreciate is that we see Hunter accepting that Omega wants to go her own way. This was something he didn’t want happening for a long time, but once he accepted that she was capable of looking after herself, and once he accepted that he could never keep her tied in place forever, he supported Omega in her decision to join the Rebellion. Yes, he will always worry about her. He even tells her that she will always be their kid. But he knows that it’s time for her to carve her own path, and that means for him, finally letting go and accepting that Clone Force 99 will never be what it once was. 

Wrecker

Wrecker is an interesting one for me because he’s one of the few characters where I can’t really see a big step for his character in the final episode. For many of the others there is some form of acceptance, or big step in their lives, but for Wrecker I don’t really see that. And unfortunately, I think that comes from Wrecker never really being the focus of any strong character development throughout the history of the show. That’s not to say there wasn’t any growth at all, but when we look at how far everyone else has come in their stories, Wrecker always feels like he never got the same treatment in this show. The biggest growth I saw was when he stepped in to help Hunter when he could see the sergeant was spiralling.

So, while I’m happy he lived and has gone on to enjoy a longer, more peaceful life than we ever expected for the Batch, it makes me sad that we never really saw anything big for Wrecker in this ending. No big acceptance, no huge sacrifice. We don’t even get to see him say goodbye to Omega when she leaves. I love that Wrecker got a happy ending, but I always wish that we had gotten the opportunity to see more of a character arc with him over the course of the entire show.

Crosshair

I accepted a while ago that if any of the Batch members were to survive, Crosshair would be one of them because I didn’t expect the writers to kill him off after everything that he had been through. And thankfully they didn’t! I love that after everything, Crosshair has managed to find peace. Maybe not completely, but enough that he has the chance to live a life that doesn’t involve him being a soldier. 

Throughout S2 and S3 we saw Crosshair come to terms with the fact that he was disposable to the Empire and that they didn’t care about him as much as he had made himself believe. And one of the things Crosshair fought with the most was his own identity as a soldier. For so long, he believed that that was all he was, all he could be, so that’s why it has been so amazing finally seeing Crosshair acknowledge that he doesn’t need to be a soldier to still live a life he deserves; his purpose is and always has been more than that.

Saying that, I want to address the hand thing because I am still unsure of where I sit with it. Following his escape from Tantiss, we see Crosshair has developed hand tremors as a result of his PTSD, and a decent chunk of the season has been dedicated to him learning how to live with them. The biggest reason for this affecting Crosshair so much was that it impacted his ability to be a sniper, which is what Crosshair believed to be his main purpose: he didn’t know what to do without the ability to use his hand. And we were given some incredibly sweet scenes between him and Omega as she helped him work out the best way to manage the tremors, for example, them meditating together.

But then that brings me onto my main issue, which is, why remove the hand? One of the reasons I keep seeing is that it removes Crosshair’s ability to be a sniper, but we had already seen that. That’s the issue that the tremors were causing. Crosshair had already been struggling with that ability as a result of what happened to him on Tantiss, so cutting his hand off as a way of preventing his sniping ability seems a bit unnecessary. Now admittedly, the soldier who cut his hand off didn’t know that he had hand tremors, so logistically it makes sense, but as a story tool it seems a bit bizarre to me. Personally, I think it would’ve been more interesting to pursue the idea of Crosshair learning to manage his tremors through meditation etc. and adapting to a life that has less of a focus on sniping. 

Another reason I have seen for the hand is that it symbolises Crosshair finally becoming free from the Empire and what they did to him on Tantiss. Him no longer having the tremors indicates that he is no longer burdened by the Empire and his time there. But that doesn’t really work for me either. For one, Crosshair will never truly be separated from what happened to him there; even if he lost the shaking, he would still have a number of psychological issues as a result of what he went though, so I can’t see it as a way of symbolising a true separation. Which is once again why I think that following the story beat of him managing the tremors would have been a more interesting path for them to go down with his character.

Saying that, I’m still happy with where Crosshair’s story went. He is arguably the most complex character in the Batch and I’m so glad we have been able to see him develop the way he has. Him living a long, quiet life is something that I’m happy he has gotten, and I truly don’t think that him dying would have brought nearly as satisfying a conclusion as Crosshair finally finding a new place in the world.

Tech

Oh boy… this is going to be an interesting chunk of this essay. So errm… it turns out Tech is actually dead, which is… kinda shit. 

Back when we saw him fall at the end of S2, I said that one of the reasons that I didn’t believe that Tech was really dead was because if he was, I would’ve found the writing kinda cheap. I said repeatedly throughout that season that I didn’t want all of his character development to simply be an emotional manipulation tactic to make us even more sad when he died… which is what it turned out to be. It doesn’t surprise me that Tech sacrificed himself, but it makes me mad that ultimately his death never really had any real impact on anything. I mean, they hardly even addressed it in the final season!

I get that animated Star Wars is known for rarely addressing characters after their deaths, but The Clone Wars focuses on so many characters that if we gave that much attention to every character that died, then we would never progress the plot. However, unlike TCW, The Bad Batch primarily focuses on a smaller group of clones and therefore not only has the space to explore the impacts that death would have on the squad, but really should find it a necessary part of the storytelling. The lack of attention given to Tech throughout this season has been beyond frustrating to me. He deserved better.

And I can’t write a section about Tech’s ending without addressing the CX-2 situation. Were we all delusional for believing that Tech was alive? No. Now before people come at me for saying that, I want to explain why that is the conclusion I have come to. You would have every right to label us delusional if there was absolutely no proof behind the claims that we made, but when the writers give us a character that both speaks and acts like Tech, what did they expect us to think? There were too many parallels between Tech and CX-2 for it to be coincidental and I still stand by the fact that we had reason to believe that they were the same person.

Now, looking at the other CX soldiers we see in the finale, they all seem to parallel the OG members of the Batch: there’s a larger one who primarily focuses on hand-to-hand combat, someone who favours blades, a sniper, and a more tech-savvy one. And I’m sure there is a reason for that, symbolically or practically, but if the fact that they all resemble the Batch is important, then why was so much focus put primarily on CX-2? There was no way we weren’t going to think that they would reveal him to be Tech.

Overall, I’m annoyed. Tech was such a brilliant character and I am so frustrated that not only did he get a death that I felt was kind of cheap, but he didn’t get nearly the respect he should have been given in the final season. Now, I’m not using this as a way to bash the writers, and I definitely don’t think that anyone should use it as an excuse to be bullies, but unfortunately, I can’t be satisfied with the way Tech’s story ended, and I’m not sure I ever will.

Echo

Last but certainly not least, Echo. To say that Echo means a lot to me is an understatement, and I was genuinely terrified that I might have to say goodbye to one of my comfort characters. But thankfully, our boy made it!

Following Season 1, we all wanted for Echo to get some more development. It never felt like he had truly been used to his full potential. And thankfully, Season 2 began to give us that. Yes, we ended up saying goodbye to Echo for half a season, but we saw some incredible growth in his character, and him choosing to join the rebellion made too much sense not to happen. Unfortunately, this also meant that we didn’t get to see Echo for the majority of the final season, but I am beyond grateful that what they gave us in these last few episodes has been some of the best Echo content that we have ever seen. Watching him grow and find where he belongs has been a pleasure to watch, He really is an ARC trooper through and through. Particularly in these last few episodes, seeing how much he has grown to be like Fives, and watching him carry on his brother’s legacy, has been so incredible, No matter what anyone says, I believe that he truly is one of the greatest, and most important characters that we’ve ever gotten out of animated Star Wars.

However, I do have one gripe with Echo’s ending, and it’s the fact that it doesn’t actually feel like a conclusion. If anything, I have more questions about Echo now than I did before the last episode. Echo going to the Rebellion is an absolute given; he still has stuff to help Rex with. But the fact that there is absolutely no mention of him in the epilogue has just made me wonder where he is. Omega mentions Crosshair and Wrecker, and we only see Hunter, so we know that Echo isn’t with them. But we also know that at that point in the story, Echo also isn’t with Rex (assuming we’re in Rebels era). So where is he? What is he doing? Is he actually dead at that point??? I really hope we see more of Echo in the future because if this really is the last time we see his character, it’s too open ended for me to really be satisfied with it.

But if I’m being honest, I really don’t think that this is the last time that we are going to see him. And especially with Omega joining the Rebellion, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw another clone-centric show following these characters in the future.

Concluding Thoughts

All in all, my thoughts are still a bit jumbled. I still don’t know how I truly feel about everything, but hopefully this post at least gives some insight into how I think each character’s endings were handled. Will I change my mind at some point? Probably. But for now, this is where I stand.

At its core, I think the ending we got makes sense for a lot of the characters, and I’m glad that they didn’t all just die at the end. Sure, there are choices that I’m not happy with, but seeing that some of the Batch go on to live long lives is something that I’m very happy to see. It doesn’t happen enough in animated SW, so I’m glad we got to experience it.

[lifblogs]

Alive

@summer-of-bad-batch Week 12 Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2025 Summary: After Eriadu, Echo leaves messages on Tech's comm channel, feeling like he's talking to his brother again. READ ON AO3

“Hey… Tech,” Echo said into the comm. “It’s been a few rotations since… well, you know.”

He looked around, suddenly feeling ridiculous now that his voice was coming out of him. Night had swiftly fallen, and the lights of the landing pad he currently sat on, legs dangling over the side, were all that lit it. A ship was there—one of Rex’s ships.

Echo… missed the Marauder, but he knew he could help more from here. And… after so much loss, he couldn’t… well, he couldn’t handle it at all. It was like his foundation he’d built with his new family had been ripped right out from under him, and he couldn’t stay, not without anything to stand on.

Hunter’s face had been carved with pained, but he had said he knew Echo had to do this, and also mentioned he could do more work to search for Omega, for Tantiss, than he could if they stayed together.

Wrecker had hugged him so tightly he had worried an implant was going to embed deeper into him, or the controls on his legs would shatter.

Wrecker wasn’t angry, like Hunter was to some degree. He was sad. They all were.

It was more than that though.

The massive hole in Echo’s chest that he’d worked on filling and healing with his family, now made it so any reminders of them was too much. Hunter was too much. Wrecker was too much. Because around them it was easy to see who wasn’t there.

With Rex and Howzer and the boys, there was none of that, really. Though, every time he looked at Rex he thought of Fives.

No Fives.

Now no Tech, and no… no Omega.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you,” he went on, “but… Omega was taken. By—by Hemlock. I know that’s not what you want to hear, maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you since we failed to find Tantiss, and save Crosshair, but…

“I don’t know what to do, Tech,” he went on, voice rough, tight. Tears welled in his eyes, and he let them, let his world blur around him.

“I feel so lost,” he admitted. “I… I remember when I first saw you. You were the first person I’d seen since… Anyway, I was scared. I was, but when I saw you, seeing you knew exactly what you were doing to save me, I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t even know you yet, and I trusted you. You were so human, so real. It was like… It was like…” Echo found himself at a loss for words, not sure how to describe what it had felt to see a human again, to see someone saving him, not torturing him, not using him, but saving him.

“Well, imagine being afraid, more afraid than you’ve ever been, and then seeing human eyes, eyes you almost recognize. I felt… home. You did that for me, Tech. And when you unhooked me, when you carried me… I decided if I ever got through that—and of course I did because I had you—that I would carry you too.

“Maybe not in a real sense—unless it was needed—but in a sense that I’d be there for you.”

Tears fell, throat so tight he barely got his next words out: “That I’d save you.”

Silence seemed to swallow him, even amongst the night noises of the creatures in the jungle.

“And I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Echo switched off the comm, and placed it against his forehead, hunching in on himself, sobbing.

He didn’t know how long he was out there—maybe hours—but that was how Rex found him.

He didn’t say anything, just put a hand on his shoulder, and it was enough.

“Hey, Tech,” Echo said from the cockpit of one of Rex’s ships. He wasn’t exactly flying it given the one hand situation, but he was keeping an eye on things while everyone else rested. The comm chanel was still live, but as usual there was nothing on the other end. Radio silence. Still— “Sorry it’s bee awhile,” he said. “Been pretty busy, looking for Tantiss, for Omega. I miss her.”

He sighed. “I miss you. I wish you could come home to us, you know? I knew what Plan Ninety-Nine was. Hunter had briefed me on it, but I never thought…”

His words cut off, a million thoughts clouding the space in his head. There was a fierce ache in his chest, and fear, betrayal, greater than he’d ever known, was trying to rip him apart.

He was a traitor to his friend, his family, because…

“Sometimes I hate you for it,” he finally got out, words tight, crawling out of the barbed wire in his chest, the electric frisson that had tried to keep it locked in tight.

And now that the words had been said, they hurt.

Echo nearly choked on a gasp, and he put his hand to his chest, curled in a fist. He hunched in over it, shaking, tears falling freely down his face, sobs catching in his chest, a pained growl leaving him.

“You left us,” he said. “You left us. What are we supposed to do with that? You made sure we didn’t all die, but… you didn’t put yourself into those calculations. You died. Did you even care? Did you think you mattered, or was it just us? We cared about you too, you know! We cared about— We still do.

“Omega got hurt,” he went on. “We all did. And then… well, without you… Hemlock took her. I know—I know I already told you that, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Tech! What am I supposed to do now? You were the first person I saw. The first person! And now…”

Echo sighed. “Whatever.” He switched off the comm.

“Tech, you’re never gonna believe this,” Echo said, grinning wide, the hole in his chest smaller for once, filled in with brilliant light. He was tweaking the energy crossbow he was planning on giving to Omega as soon as he saw her. “Omega’s back. She escaped, and guess who was with her? Crosshair. I know! She really did it. She saved herself. She saved him.

“I haven’t seen her yet, but Hunter did warn me she looks a bit older. I know that when I do see her I’ll think about the time I missed with her, and I know it’ll hurt, but it’s okay because she’s back. She’s safe now.

“Crosshair’s safe now,” he added. “Heard he’s as thorny as ever.” Echo grinned thinking of it, and thinking of Crosshair’s grudging acceptance of Echo which had turned into a bond with trust, that trust stronger with all the hard edges. “But she did it, Tech. She finished your mission! I know there’s still the Empire, that Tantiss is still out there, and Hemlock is, but I just thought I’d let you know. For once in almost six months, I’m finally happy. And I think… I think you would be too.”

Echo couldn’t sleep, as usual, and he was lying around in his rack, Gregor snoring beneath him.

With a deep sigh, he pulled out his comlink, dialing it to the frequency that never responded, and never would again.

“Hi, Tech. It’s me. Echo.” His words seemed too loud, and he rolled out of his rack, landing neatly on the deck.

He made his way over to the lounge that was on this massive ship, and sat back in the booth by the table. Only the ship’s hum met him now, the lights dim.

“I don’t know why I’m still doing this,” he admitted. “I know you’re… you’re gone. But I have so much to tell you, so much to say. It’s still weird not having you here. I always turn around thinking I’ll see you, I find my eyes searching every room I enter, and sometimes when I haven’t slept for days I imagine I see you out of the corner of my eye, coming to tell me some crazy fact. And I’d listen. Oh, I’d listen. What I wouldn’t give to have you telling me about some animal or language right about now. You could tell me about the history of the comlink and I’d listen. I’d listen to you talk about the galaxy, about other life-forms, about what you ate for breakfast. About everything.”

Echo had to pause, all choked up.

He didn’t know why he kept doing this to himself, kept tearing at his open wound instead of letting it heal.

But if it healed would he forget? Would he forget all the wonders that had made Tech such an amazing life-form? Would he forget his smile, his startled laugh when he actually found a joke funny, the sound of his voice, the way he spoke, his eyes? Would he forget it all?

Echo knew that wasn’t quite how it worked, and yet he kept doing this, kept letting himself bleed.

He had half a mind to let himself bleed until the Empire was nothing but dust.

“I’m sorry.”

He switched the comm off, and let the silence invade all the dark spaces in his mind, let it play with the nightmares.

Echo leaned back, looking up at the deck above him, not taking in any of the details, not even the color.

Everything was drab, and gray, and dark. Cold, and silent. So cold, like when he had been nothing but a tool for the Separatists.

Echo didn’t welcome it, but it was there. Without Tech, it crept in every day, and maybe would until Echo was gone too.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Echo said, “but the Empire found Pabu. I wasn’t there. I’m actually on my way to pick up the others now, but I thought you should know. Phee is safe. But Omega—she gave herself up to save everyone.

“I’d be proud if… if it didn’t hurt so much. I know you’d be proud. In a way, I think she learned it from you—sacrifice. You meant so much to her, to me, to everyone. So I thought I’d let you know, we’re heading to Tantiss. We’re destroying that place, and we will not stop until Omega is free, until the clones are free. I just wish you could stand by my side after we win.

“Hell, sorry for all the bravado. I’m… scared. I could always tell you when I was afraid. I think sometimes you’d find it silly, but then you’d realize it wasn’t silly to me, that it was real. And talking to you about it—it was like you unhooking me from that machine all over again, saving me.

“I’d save you if I could. I would have. But now all I can do is save her.”

Echo swallowed hard, looking out at the blue-white of hyperspace streaking past.

“Tech… thank you.”

Echo switched the comm off, telling himself this was the last time. If he could save Omega—and he would—he’d let his wound heal. Maybe finally it could heal.

Echo had abandoned his armor, his comm, feeling like he was losing part of himself for this, giving himself up to save Omega, so he never got the message that came through as he landed at Tantiss. He would know, would learn who this was, would even have help from him as he turned on the other CXs, but he never heard the high, frightened voice that said, “Echo, it’s me. It’s Tech. I don’t know how, but… I’m alive.”

And with the Marauder in ruins, no one else in Clone Force 99 heard that voice. If they had Crosshair wouldn’t have been so afraid, wouldn’t have thought Clone Force 99 had died, after all; Wrecker wouldn’t have lied, wouldn’t have pushed himself too hard; Hunter wouldn’t have been ready to give up all he was for his little girl, would have known he wasn’t alone. They would have been a family in that tense moment in the jungle, and would have known that Clone Force 99 was very. Much. Alive.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hello Mimi!!!! Me again!!!!! 9 and 11 from your amazing prompts please! 👉🏻👈🏻 For Hunter? 😁

@dragonrider9905 girl thank you for choosing these amazing prompts.

9. “Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.” — Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

11. “You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget.” — Cormac McCarthy, The Road

I hope you love what I did with your request. It’s fluffy and sweetish.

Love oo

By My Side

Warnings: Concern for a sibling, unrequited love (somewhat), discussion of emotions, hesitation, fear, mentions of deserving better, angst-ish, fluff, fear of cognitive issues, reassurance of love, kissing. I think that’s it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

“You okay?” 

You called out to Hunter as he sat on the boulder of the hidden docking port, your eyes noticing that Omega had taken the shuttle and left, you gently sat beside him while he pet Batcher loving, almost methodically. 

“Hmm” he grunted in response. 

“She’ll be okay.” You gently pressed your hand on his shoulder, you knew him well enough to know he didn’t like being babied over when he was emotional. 

“Hmm.”

You let out a sigh, as you stood, “Alright, well if you want to talk … you know where to find me.” You began to walk away when his hand gripped your wrist; you turned to look at him, his eyes barely looking at yours. 

“Please … stay.” His voice was low barely above a whisper, but it conveyed more in that second than anything else before. You gently took your seat again, surprised when his hand slid down and intertwined your fingers.

There had always been a longing and desire between the two of you, something unspoken, but between being on the run, trying to get Crosshair back, losing Tech, and then rescuing Omega and the clones from Tantiss, there never seemed to be a time to discuss it. Then when peace finally allowed you all to breathe and live, Hunter became hyper focused on Omega and his brothers. You couldn’t blame him, and you eventually gave up all hope of there being anything more between you than friendship. Yet, in this moment, something felt different. 

“What is it?”

He turned to look at you, “I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion, “For Omega leaving? That’s not your fault. Why would you apologize for that?”

“No. Not for that … for …” he let out a sigh as he gently rubbed the back of your hand, “for so many things. For hiding and not … not being honest about what I felt.”

There was a silence that filled the space between you two, you gently rested your head on his shoulder, “Honestly, I thought it had all been in my head… that you moved on… before we even … were anything.”

Hunter shook his head pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “No, cyare, I’ve always wanted you, I just …” he let out a sigh as he rested his cheek on the top of your head, “I couldn’t imagine that life; you … you’ve deserved a better life than you’ve had. You deserve to have a home with plenty of farm, for your herbs and farming that you always try to get going.”

“Why do you think I want something different? All I’ve ever wanted is this” you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you nuzzled closer.

He let out a sigh, wrapping his arms tight around you, “We should’ve done this sooner.”

“Yeah, we should’ve.”

Silence fell between the two of you as Hunter gently ran his thumb on your back drawing tiny concentric patterns, holding you almost impossibly close. “Promise me, you’ll remind me of all our moments, if I ever forget them.” His voice was low and soft as he spoke, afraid that what he feared most would come true. 

You shifted looking at him, as you cupped his cheek, “Hunter, I’ll never let you forget. Are you afraid that might actually happen?”

His head tilted further into your hand wanting and needing to feel your soft touch against his skin, “I … yes. I’m afraid, you forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget.” He looked into your eyes, “I’m afraid I’ll forget you.”

You pulled him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, shifting as his hands gripped your hips guiding you to his lap as he tilted his head to look into your eyes. 

“Hunter, I will never let you forget. Even if it means I have to remind you who I am 50 times a day; even if it means you don’t remember the first time we met. I’ll just tell you the story of us over and over again. I’ll start it by saying, ‘Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.’ And I’ll tell you about our first argument. First time, you called me your friend. All the times you made me laugh on purpose just to hear my laugh, or you made sure I was looked after.” You pressed your forehead against his, “I’ll tell you all about our adventures, and every time our hands accidentally brushed and made my heart skip a beat. Or the times when you would tuck a strand of hair behind my ear when you were trying to convey what you felt without actually saying it. I’ll tell you everything, over and over again.”

Tears welled up in Hunter’s eyes as he realized the depth of your love for him. All he could think about was how much of a fool he was to have wasted so much precious time with you. All the nights he could’ve been holding you in his arms. All the moments he could’ve kissed you but didn’t. All the missed opportunities to tell you how much he loved you. All those moments he let slip away. 

He resolved within himself, he wasn’t going to let one more second pass, not one more moment will slip away. His hand went to the back of your head as he gently leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, “Stay by my side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“No. For much longer than that.” You pressed your lips against his holding him tight as years of desire and want melted away in the first kiss you two ever shared. 

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[ledbytheunknown]

Pro Memoria

Summary: Crosshair alone in his cell on Mount Tantiss reflects on his life, his choices and all that brought him to that point.

Word count: 1590

Warnings: There is talk of pain, angst, medical issues and contemplation of death. Thoughts or regret and sadness

A/N: Written for @swprequels-big-bang The art is amazing and I just know you will al love it as much as I do when you see it.

it can be found here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" Don't you forget about dying

Don't you forget about your friend death

Don't you forget that you will die "

Crosshair sat alone in the cell on Mount Tantiss, no natural light reached this far in. The garish industrial lights often hurt his eyes, making his head fill with the pain of a migraine. He’d lost count of the days, everyone being the same monotonous routine. Wake a morning serving of sustenance that made the old republic rations look like a gourmet meal on Canto Bight. Guards moving him to a lab samples taken from his right hand, the repeated jabs left his hand feeling weak and at times it had a tremor. 

In the beginning he would be taken to a chamber much like the one Rampart and Tarkin used on him back on Kamino and his mind was probed and shocked as Hemlock tried to twist him and it to make him a perfect super soldier.

The gas Hemlock had used on him when he had tried to get a message to his brothers to protect Omega left his throat damaged and his voice even more gravely than before. It had all been for nothing. Omega was still found and brought here.

She visited almost everyday. Talked about planning and getting out. Crosshair fully believed that she should try, but that she should go alone. Leave him to his karma, his punishment, his prison.

He was not innocent. He blindly followed all the orders he was given by the empire for a long time. There were times when he closed his eyes he could see the faces of every single person he killed for the empire. He could also see the faces of those he knew die around him.

The rebels on Onderon, they honestly did not know where Saw Gerrera was, majority on that transport were civilians and Crosshair had led his squad in opening fire on them and cut them all down. Man woman and child. 

Tightness grew in his chest as the many memories flooded in. Shortly after Onderon there was a mission to Naboo to bring in again so-called insurgents who were not separatists but members of the galactic republic who were resisting the Empire's new rule.  The whole settlement was wiped out again man woman or child it didn’t matter they were gone in under a half hour and their bodies disintegrated leaving no trace. It was like that for a long time and Crosshair could always shut out what he did. Block his mind from remembering.  But now their faces were all he could see. Hundreds and hundreds of people who he was directly responsible for their deaths. Either by giving orders to the troops or by his own hand.

His hand, the right one, had started to tremble shortly after his attempt at contacting his brothers to tell them to keep Omega safe.  The tremors now were more frequent. Any time he thought about what he had done it started to shake. He reached across and held it steady with his left hand taking a deep breath and it started to settle.

Crosshair looked through the bars of his cell down into the stark utilitarian prison corridors that went in every direction. Almost every stall was occupied by former clone troopers, all ones who refused to serve the empire, all were tested and some experimented on but for what purpose He did not know. He often saw Nala Se in the halls and lab. She was his creator, not just in that he was a clone but it was her project that gave him and his brothers of Clone Force 99 their desired mutations. He saw sadness in her eyes when she looked at him and disappointment. It hurt him as he didn’t know if that was disappointment in his situation or in him and his actions.

He put his head back against the wall on his cell and closed his eyes again, this time his mind took him to Bracca, the place he almost burned to death in the fire of an ion engine. That was the start of his downfall, where his troops in the elite squad questioned his actions. It got worse on Ryloth.

Ryloth, it was all a flawed plan by Rampart to fully take over. To frame the hero of Ryloth Cham Syndulla of the murder of Twi'lek senator Orn Free Taa, but it didn’t go as planned and Cross hair was forced to arrest many clone troopers. Some fought back and for that they were killed.

But he survived. He survived the fall of Kamino and spent thirty-two rotations stranded there alone. He chose to stay, he could have left with the others on the Marauder but he chose to stay. But he questioned himself if he did it because he believed the Empire would find him or if he did it to die, to atone for all he did.  The Empire did find him and after making a full recovery it was back to fighting back to killing, though he didn’t do much of the latter on the first mission with Cody. Commander Cody, where was he now? Was he safe? They said he left, that he defected, but in the Empire that could mean anything, that he went to the budding rebellion or that he disappeared to live in peace or that he had been killed. Maybe he was here in the halls in one of the many cells. 

He sighed thinking of how badly he hurt his brothers, not just his batch mates but the clone troopers as a whole. Those who had stood against the empire how he treated them. Capturing them like he had Howzer and his troops or killing some of the 981st that had defected in the time between Ryloth and Daro. 

How he had hunted Tech, Wrecker, Echo, and Hunter. He had been so close to them and now they only seemed like distant memories.

One of the times Hemlock and Nala Se worked on their experiments Hemlock informed him of Tech’s fall and subsequent death. It made Crosshair’s stomach and chest ache. They had been trying to find him, they had been trying to rescue him and now Tech was dead, and it was all Crosshair's fault.  Just as Mayday’s death was on him as well.

He should have been able to save Mayday. He should have been able to get him back to base sooner so that there would be a chance of survival instead of dying in agony on the ground just beyond the walls of the base. He should have taken out more than just the lieutenant; he should have gunned down that whole base. But he was too weak.

Always now too weak to be of use, with a trembling shooting hand and headaches that would come and go but when they came they would stay, it would linger and pulse and beat away at his head, his brain throbbing as if trying to escape his skull. 

He grabbed his head in his hands as he felt another of the headaches coming on he could feel the tremor of his hand against his head. This would be a fitting way to go, he had survived practically being incinerated, and being left to fend for himself on a dead planet but to have that pain in his head kill him make him atone for all he had done that would be perfect. 

He tried to pry his eyes open to survey his surroundings one last time. In the hall beyond the ray shielded door of his cell he could see them. It was scary, bittersweet and calming all in one as his brothers lined the halls, Tech closest then MAyday and so many others, there were non-clone faces there as well, faces he recognized all too clearly as his victims. But they did not look mad, they looked sad or was that more looks of empathy, of pity? They were waiting for him. To escort him to hell no doubt it is what he deserved.

" We focus on your death,

We focus on your death.

You share not the blood of ours,

thus we focus on your death "

The words echoed through his head so many voices in unison. Calling him to his end. So he had taken their lives or failed to prevent their deaths, it was only fitting they beckoned him to his own.

The intensity of the pain grew, his eyes squeezing shut as if to try and stop the growing throb and the searing burning pain that filled his skull. He felt his breath catch in his lungs. Then calm, darkness and silence. 

.

.

.

Beep……..Beep………Beep

Crosshair felt his consciousness leaving the void. The soft sounds around him, this was not hell, it was too calm, and smelled too clean. Way to clean.

“Ah I see you are finally waking up” a familiar voice said from a distance away.

Footsteps came closer

“We almost lost you there CT-9904, that would be unfortunate as you still have so much to give in our experiments”

Crosshair opened his eyes. He was alive but he had been wrong; he was in hell. The living hell of Mount Tantiss, and staring down at him as he was strapped to the medical table, the devil incarnate. Dr. Royce Hemlock. Crosshair looked around the room, the voices were gone as were the apparitions. So once again he would be left alone with his thoughts and his guilt. 

[whos-orion]

Risk (3/4)

Summary: Omega and Hemlock are stranded in the middle of the Weyland jungle, and there’s only one way out. Work together. As Hunter and the rest of the Batch try to work through Omega’s loss, Omega discovers something truly, truly terrifying.

Word Count: 1861

Notes: haha guess what it’s not the last part!!! Maybe pt 4 will be the end maybe not I don’t really know!! Enjoy!! Also let me know in a reblog/reply if you would like to be on the tag list for pt 4!

Tag List: @twinsunstars @luzfeather

Part 1 Part 2

This was strange.

Omega was sitting in the middle of the Weyland Jungle, having survived a fall from the top of a mountain, next to Royce Hemlock. He was tending to his wounds, using a small medkit he kept on his person at all times. Of course he did. He was a doctor. An evil scientist, but a doctor nonetheless. He was applying bandages around the spot where Omega had shot him earlier. He finished and sighed, wincing as he turned his head towards Omega.

“…are you certain you don’t want me to take care of your leg?”

“Yes.” Omega replied firmly. Her left leg hurt badly, more so than everything else at least. But she didn’t want to give any kind of trust to Hemlock.

“It would be wise to let me do so. You appear to have landed on it. It is most likely broken—“

“Shut up.” Omega snapped. She didn’t feel like talking with him right now. Or ever, for that matter. Right now, she needed to figure out a way to get out of the jungle. Make it back to the mountain. There may still be a ship there for her to steal. Hemlock said a ship left shortly before she woke up, and that it was most likely her brothers. She didn’t trust him, but also wondered what reason he would have to lie. He probably wanted to live, too. Probably.

Omega sighed and moved some hair out of her face. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She couldn’t go anywhere at the moment, at least not without Hemlock. She grumbled and spoke to him.

“…do you have anything in that kit that could take these cuffs off?” She asked. Hemlock turned to her, his expression easing up a bit.

“No, I don’t. Even if I did, what makes you think I’d take them off? You’d run off and leave me to die.”

“I’d have a better chance of surviving. Both of us would.” She said, disdain in her voice. She didn’t want to work with him. She hated the very idea of it.

“Maybe so. But, at the moment, we must combine our efforts if we are to survive. This jungle is dangerous.” Hemlock said, overacting his surroundings. He was clearly worried about whatever was out there. Omega remembered her first escape from Tantiss, and the giant creature that had nearly attacked her and Crosshair. They were only able to get away because the Lurca hounds fended it off.

Omega didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. But…Hemlock, for once, was right. They couldn’t make it out of here alive in this state. Unless they worked together. Omega sighed and turned to look at Hemlock again.

“Do you…have any suggestions?” She was clearly unhappy to be asking him. But he had no reason to hurt her, at the moment.

“We need to cover ground. If we get back to the mountain, we can access my communicator and call for help.”

“You can call for help. I’m getting a ship and leaving.” Omega said. Hemlock grumbled and rubbed his temples.

“Your friends will have destroyed the rest of the ships. Or taken them all. Governor Tarkin is already on his way here, anyways. If we get to the mountain, we can wait for him there.” Hemlock said. He sighed and looked at Omega.

“You really think I’m going to let that happen? Let you take me back there when Imperials will be swarming the place? There’s bound to be another ship there, they can’t have taken them all.” She reasoned. There had to be a ship there. She was really hoping a ship was there. Otherwise…she didn’t know how she was going to get out.

“Fine,” Hemlock said firmly. “We can talk about that later. Right now, we need to get moving. If we wait any longer, it will be night before we get there, and then this place will be far more dangerous.” He moved to stand, then stopped. That strange look of concern was back on his face. “Can you walk?”

“Why do you care?” Omega gruffly asked. She pushed herself up and winced in pain as she felt her leg light up in agony. She nearly fell back down, but Hemlock caught her. She pushed away from him and stood on her own, putting most of her weight on her right leg.

“Because I don’t want you dying.” He replied plainly.

“Why? Because you don’t want to carry around my corpse?” Omega retorted. Hemlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

“It should be obvious enough by now, Omega. Use your senses.”

“Hmph. You think the Empire will let you continue with your work after this? You’re to blame for this destruction.”

“Your friends are to blame. I am indispensable. The Emperor will do anything to make sure his project is complete. As long as both of us are alive, I will be the most important man in the Empire. Besides the Emperor, of course.” Hemlock said. He stood up tall and looked towards the direction the mountain was in. “Let’s get moving.”

Hunter sat on the deck of his little hut on Pabu. He was looking out as the midday sun made the water shine. He sighed and leaned back on the bench. It had only been one rotation. One rotation since Tantiss. One rotation since the catwalk. One rotation since…Omega. Losing Omega. It hurt just to think about it. Wrecker had woken up just a few hours ago. Hunter hadn’t told him yet, but Wrecker was beginning to suspect something. It wasn’t that Hunter didn’t want him to know. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it. That would be admitting it, accepting it, knowing it. That she was gone. Gone. Dead. Hunter held his head in his hands, breathing deeply. She was gone.

Omega and Hemlock were making good time. They were nearly to the Lurca hound kennels, where they deemed the easiest access point was. Hemlock had explained the power was cut, so the ray shields shouldn’t be up. They could get in from there. Omega limped next to Hemlock as they walked through the thick jungle. Hemlock glanced over at her.

“…are you sure that—“

“Yes. Stop asking.” Omega quickly replied. She did not want his help. She wanted her brothers. She wanted to go home.

They walked a little further to a familiar clearing. Omega recognized it as the place where she and Crosshair had ended up on their first escape. She saw the tunnel where they had exited from as she and Hemlock approached it. Hemlock took the hand cuffed together with Omega and removed a panel from the outside structure. He fiddled with the wires for a moment, and the tunnel opened. He turned to her, his expression steely as ever.

“Omega. For once in your life, I’d like you to comply with my requests. We are going to head inside. We are going to head to my office. We are going to contact the Empire for help if Governor Tarkin has not already arrived. If there are ships left here, you are not going to take them. If you do escape, remember that I know how to find you. I know where you and your friends hide, and I will find you.” He spoke calmly, yet coldly. His eyes narrowed at Omega as she stood in silence. She nodded. She wasn’t going to do as he said, obviously, but she needed to get inside. And right now, the only way to do that was with him. The second she was separated from him, she would make her run for it. There had to be a ship. There had to be.

Hemlock and Omega entered the tunnel, crouching through the small space. Hemlock had been right, the ray shields were deactivated. They made it through with little to no problems. Though, Omega noticed several more concerned looks at her leg. It was still hurting badly. But she could make it out. She knew she could.

Hunter was standing outside of Shep’s house. Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo, and Shep were inside. He’d just told Wrecker what happened. Sort of. Either way, he wasn’t taking it well. Hunter had begun to speak, trying to get the words out, when he was interrupted. Crosshair had interjected before Hunter could say what happened, and he didn’t put what happened lightly.

“She’s dead.” He blurted out. “She’s dead and gone.” His voice broke as he spoke. Wrecker was silent for a moment, then began trying to deny it through tears. Hunter stood there silent as Wrecker practically begged for it to not be true. Crosshair was yelling at him, sobbing as well. Hunter had then left the house, standing outside where he was now. He could still hear Crosshair. Echo and Shep were trying to calm things down. Hunter stood outside, trying desperately to hold back tears. He had to be strong now. He had to keep the squad together. That was his job. That had always been his job. And he’d failed.

He had failed.

Omega and Hemlock walked through the deserted halls of Tantiss, now littered with the bodies of Stormtroopers and Clones alike. The two came to Hemlock’s office, which was dark and desolate. The doors whirred closed behind them and Hemlock locked them. The lights in the room were dim. There wasn’t much in the room. A small desk and chair, a raised table for examination, and a strange capsule on the wall to the right of the entrance. Omega couldn’t see what was in it.

Hemlock dragged Omega to the desk where he pulled out a small tool. He picked at the binders with it for a moment, and then they came loose.

“The door is locked. The vents are bolted to the wall. Do not try to escape, or you will face the consequences.” Hemlock said, not even looking at her. He placed the binders down on the desk and walked around to his chair. He sat down and booted up his communications device. Omega observed the room. It really was a sad little place. She walked over to the capsule on the wall. A small console was on the side of it. Omega checked to make sure Hemlock wasn’t looking at her. He was laser-focused on the comm. She turned back to the console and pressed the buttons to open it. The capsule front hissed air out, as it opened. Hemlock looked up as he noticed the noise. Omega waited for him to get up and scold her, drag her off, do something. He just softly smirked and turned back to the device. Something was wrong. Omega walked to the front of the capsule as it fully opened. Red lights lit up what was in it. Or rather who. Omega’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at the person inside, hooked up to wires and tubes. A heart monitor was attached to him, making that soft beeping noise that indicated a heartbeat. That indicated life. Omega felt a tear roll down her cheek as Tech slowly stirred and woke up.

Part 4

[stars-n-spice]

Hi, I've been meaning to ask you for a long time. And how did Crosshair meet Tay after Tantiss? Well, provided they had their last meeting in a bar before that episode with Mayday. It will be interesting to read about this post or a small comic (I really like your drawing style).

Howdy! Thank you so much for this honestly, hearing that you like my drawing style made my week! 🩵🩵

As for your question, I honestly haven't thought much about how Tay and Crosshair would reunite on Pabu after their initial meetings prior to everything that happens after Mayday. I want to keep my Silly Squad AU as close to canon as possible, with stuff with them happening in between the episodes sorta "off-screen," so while Crosshair is dealing with being on Barton IV with Mayday and then being on Tantiss with Hemlock, in my mind, Tay is having to deal with some of the consequences of his actions and his past with Black Sun coming to bite him in the ass.

Before that they were meeting on and off and had a bit of a situationship going on, but as soon as they start to figure things out, that's kinda when Crosshair gets shipped off to Barton IV and things just go downhill from there.

Tay finds out about this transfer and does everything he can to try and find Crosshair. Of course, he hits a dead end eventually because nobody knows where the fuck Tantiss is, but he doesn't give up and eventually gets a tip-off that leads him to Pabu sometime after the events of S3.

I could see maybe Tay arriving at Pabu and is kinda at the end of his rope because he's been looking for months now with little to no success in getting any closer to Crosshair. He's not ready to give up yet, but he's slowly losing hope. Then he finally sees him. Tay makes his way up to the marketplace, and through the crowd, he's finally met with the sight he'd been longing to see all these months. It's Crosshair. Crosshair, laughing and smiling at something Omega said, walking through the marketplace with Batcher, looking happy and alive. It's better than Tay could've ever imagined.

After months of searching, they're finally reunited and can pick up where they left off. Of course, Tay is taken aback and horrified to hear everything that had happened to Crosshair, and in turn, Crosshair is completely touched and taken aback by the fact that Tay was actively looking for him and trying to get him back. Something his brothers didn't even try to do. And it's that latter fact that gives Crosshair reason to give Tay a second chance and let him back into his life so they can shoot their shot at being a normal couple.

Of course, there's angst in the reunion though as when they last saw each other, they were both working for the Empire so Crosshair is sent into a panic thinking Tay's still with the Empire and has come to take him back or something, but that's far from the case.

Or something like that, I'm not too sure yet. Hopefully that answered your question though! And thank you again for your ask and lovely words 🩵💫

[amberskyyking]

-sliding into another week on my unapologetic bullshit like-

HAPPY BAD BATCH DAY!!!!! Chapter 7 is UP, Tech is ALIVE, I have a PLOT and a CHAPTER COUNT now (it’s gonna be 14, probably, but hey, famous last words), and there are Wrecker-sized FEEEEELLLLIIIINNNNGSSSS!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 7: New Last Memories (And Hugs For The Whole Family)

Wrecker never faced that CX trooper head on in their fights, but for a long time, he wished that he had.

Whenever he caught Crosshair messing with his wrist, or Omega woke up with a nightmare about being taken, or Echo got all quiet at a mention of a brother they lost on Teth, Wrecker regretted that he never got the chance to take on that trooper himself. He woulda crushed him if it came down to it, even if he didn’t wanna kill him. It was still a clone in there, he knew it wasn’t really their fault, he remembered how awful it felt to be controlled by the chip and no one deserved something like that. But Wrecker woulda stopped him, even if killing him was what it took to do it. He wouldn’t have let his family get hurt if he could help it, not for nothing.

He didn’t wish that anymore.

The realization when Omega gave them the news had hit harder than the monster on Tantiss. Wrecker curled in on himself, clutching at his middle with one hand and reaching into thin air with the other, like he had when Tech fell from their railcar, and his hand found Hunters shoulder as the memory pressed in.

He had begged Tech not to do it. It wasn’t an option, Tech was right there and they just needed to get him on the railcar, just needed a little more time, but Tech had known better. Wrecker had watched him come to the conclusion as if in slow motion, the way his eyes went steady before he took aim and said those rebellious last words, but… But Wrecker couldn’t take that! He couldn’t lose him! He screamed for his vod, lunging out of the railcar with an outstretched arm even though it was useless, just some instinct in him that couldn’t let go, just his own willpower versus gravity like a damn Jedi, and Tech fell. Wrecker couldn’t look away, and neither did Tech, both keeping their eyes locked on their family as long as they could in those last moments until the car caught the tracks and ripped them apart.

Tech’s plan had worked, and Wrecker could only ever hope he knew it in the end, hope he knew that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Even if it hurt. Even if it had never stopped hurting. It was the last ever memory Wrecker had of his brother, the last memory any of them had, since Wrecker had been the one to see it happen, who couldn’t stop it… Until now.

They were going to get to make new memories again. Tech was coming home…

And if Wrecker had ever gotten the chance to face that CX trooper a decade ago, he might not be.

The sun beating down on the top of his head would have usually felt good, especially out on the water, with salty mist spraying up in the air and the thrill of catching nice fat fish. But today, waiting on solid dry land for the Havoc Zillo to appear in the sky, it was only making him sweat.

“You okay, Wrecker?” Hunter’s voice mumbled quietly at his side.

Wrecker ran a hand over his bald head and tried to let go of his thoughts with a shaky huff. “Nah... But you’re no better. I don’t need to hear heartbeats to tell that.”

“Neither do I,” Hunter said dryly, shifting his weight and exhaling hard. They sat in silence a few seconds more, craning their necks and squinting up at the air. Crosshair’s toothpick snapped in his mouth.

“What do we even say to ‘im?” Wrecker turned back to his brothers. “After all this time-”

“Depends,” Crosshair spat. “We don’t even know what he’ll be like. He might try to kill us again.”

“Don’t say that, he’s our brother-”

“I’m only being realistic, Wrecker.”

“Well I’M just being-”

“Enough,” Hunter cut them both off at once, his head snapping back towards the sky. “They’re here.”

Wrecker gasped and turned his good eye back to the sky above, searching for the little dot that was Omega and Echo and Tech coming home. It took him a second to find it but his heart leapt when he did, and Wrecker’s face split into a huge grin. There wasn’t a doubt in the galaxy that Tech would be okay, somehow, after everything. He had his brothers to help him again! They would make sure it turned out just fine, of course they would.

By the time the ship swung around Wrecker was bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation, and as soon as it hit the ground, he broke free of the others and ran to it!

“OMEGA!” He bellowed, waving an arm as Batcher bounded at his heels. “ECHO! WHERE’S TECH?!”

It didn’t even matter that the engines were just powering down and the ramp hadn’t lowered yet, he knew they could hear him! And Tech was in there!

“MEGA!” He called again just as Hunter and Crosshair caught up, and finally, the ramp let out a hiss and began to lower, slowly revealing the other half of their family at the top.

Tech was there, he was really there, and Wrecker suddenly couldn’t speak. His brother, who he missed so much, stood in the middle of the other two, with Echo’s arm around his waist and Omega’s hand clutched tight his own. He regarded the three of them on the ground with a thoughtful expression that Wrecker knew, even all these years later. It knocked whatever words he was going to say right out of his throat. Wrecker feel dizzy all of the sudden, he wobbled on the spot as tears blurred his vision and ragged breaths were torn from his lungs, and Crosshair caught him lightly by the arm.

“T-Tech?” Hunter said at his side in a voice that sounded fragile.

“See?” He heard Omega speaking softly. “I said I’d bring you home, didn’t I?”

Tech still hadn’t made any move to come down the ramp. For a second everyone was quiet as the engines finished winding down, and even Batcher paused her cheerful circles, as Echo and Omega tugged at his arms but his feet didn’t budge.

“And… They want to see me?”

Hunter eeked out a wounded sounding whimper and Wreckers bursting heart broke at the words.

“C-Course we do!” Wrecker found his voice again, scrubbing hard at his good eye to try and see his brother better. “Never a question, Tech! Come ‘ere, it’s… It’s been too long…”

Hunter sniffed hard and nodded at his side and Echo muttered something reassuring in his ear, and finally, Tech let himself be led down off the ramp. He looked at each one of them in turn, almost as if he was in a daze, once his feet hit solid ground, but the second Tech’s eyes met his own Wrecker was gone. The last time he locked eyes with his brother had been a goodbye, but now he was alive, he was back, that hadn’t been their last moments, he could hardly believe it! After ten long years he threw his arms around Tech’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug, cradling him gently against his chest and resting his cheek against the top of his brother’s head, like he would have years ago if he had just been able to reach him in time and pull him to safety.

Tech let out a surprised little gasp and went stiff, but after a moments hesitation, Wrecker felt him relax and wrap his arms gingerly around Wrecker’s sides in return.

“Y-You’re back,” Wrecker stammered out. “I missed ya, I really did…”

“I… I too have missed this,” Tech said in a small voice. “Though if you could loosen your grip just slightly it would be appreciated, this arrangement is impeding my ability to breathe.”

“Sorry…” Wrecker sniffed. “I know you’re not a big hugger, just, it’s been so long…”

“I do not mind it, actually,” Tech whispered, staying very still against Wrecker’s chest. Then Hunter was at their side, sliding his hand along Tech’s back too with tears streaming down his own face, and Wrecker lifted an arm to let him in, gesturing for Crosshair to get over here too. Their youngest brother could act prickly as much as he wanted but Wrecker knew how he really felt, and sure enough, Crosshair let out a small huff before crossing stiffly over to them and letting Wrecker drag him into the hug.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter was rasping out between full body sobs. “I’m sorry Tech, I’m so sorry-”

“As I told Echo. There is nothing to apologize for,” Tech said softly. “There was nothing for you to do differently and no viable way to determine whether or not I had survived.” He paused for a second, and Wrecker felt a small shudder course through his body. “I, on the other hand…”

“Whatever you did doesn’t matter,” Wrecker cut him off before he could put himself down or try apologizing. “Not to us. It wasn’t you, Tech.”

“We know you better than that,” Hunter agreed through his tears.

Echo and Omega joined in the hug pile from the outside and Wrecker loosened his other arm to make room for them, too. Even once he didn’t have Tech in his own grip his big brother stayed nestled close to his chest as Wreckers massive arms stretched out to encircle his family, his full family, all at once. He… He hadn’t ever gotten to hug them all at once before! After the war, when they went back for Omega, Crosshair was left behind, and no one was really in the mood for hugging when they were trapped together on a sunken Kamino. Then by the time they got Crosshair back, Tech was…

But Tech was here now. They all were, every single one of them was safe in his arms, after all this time.

Wrecker never wanted to let any of them go again.

They stayed like that for a while, much longer than Crosshair would have usually tolerated, and maybe it was because the others realized that too and felt the same. But of course, eventually, he had to, they couldn’t stay like that forever. When they started growing fidgety Wrecker reluctantly loosened his grip to let them go, but even once they all broke apart, he stood protectively close to Tech. Tech didn’t seem to mind. If anything he was hovering a little closer than usual too.

“Well… Come on,” Hunter said in a hoarse voice. “You’re probably hungry, Tech, and tired... I know it’s been a long trip. For all of you.”

Tech nodded compliantly and at Wrecker’s gentle urging he began to follow after Hunter, who turned back every few steps to make sure they were all still there, even though Wrecker knew he could have counted their heartbeats or footsteps or something instead. Wrecker could hardly even see the path back up to their little house, or… or Domicile? That was the neat sounding word Tech used to use for a house, wasn’t it? He somehow smiled even bigger at the thought. Not all of Tech’s vocabulary had stuck in his head, but there had always been a few unique words like that that that he remembered, and whenever he heard them anywhere else he thought of his brother.

Wrecker hoped that Tech still used those words. He hoped Tech still did a lot of the things he used to do, that the Empire hadn’t been able to crush a single ounce of who Tech was over the last decade they spent apart because his brother was too damn good for that. But if they did, Wrecker would remind him. They all would, and Wrecker couldn’t wait to show him the beaches the next morning! He was ready to walk with Tech anywhere he wanted, lift him up to see inside the little holes in the rocks where some fancy looking crabs nested, carry whatever sort of crazy recording equipment Tech cobbled together for his research without complaint, maybe even bring him out on the boat so he could talk to them all day about the different fish they caught. And he would never get sick of it, it wouldn’t be possible. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his brothers constant chatter until it was gone.

As the night went on, though, Wrecker started to have just a few worries. Tech wasn’t quite his old self. It wasn’t really fair to expect him to be though, at least not so quickly, was it? Maybe his memory was a little off, or maybe it was just the hyperspace-lag, or the ten whole years they missed out on that was making Tech act so much more quiet and subdued than he used to be. He still asked a few questions about the sushi they were eating, he showed interest in Wrecker’s tale of catching the fish that the sushi came from, he even said he dreamed a couple of times about eating this exact food while he was with the Empire. Those all had to be good signs… Weren’t they?

But Wrecker’s gut told him there was still something off.

Omega and Hunter encouraged Tech to turn in to bed early, and he put up a fight about it for a minute, but Echo got involved and he settled down. That didn’t quite strike Wrecker as right either. Tech had acted afraid, but he trusted Echo and Omega, they’d been with Tech again for a few days more than he had and it seemed like they had done this before. The thought made Wrecker uneasy. Who knew what sort of osik the Empire put his brother through? There were all sorts of things that could cause fears like that and it made Wrecker’s blood boil to think of any of them happening to Tech.

Crosshair began clearing the dishes in a huff the second the others made their way towards bed, and Wrecker dutifully carried plates over to the sink to be washed as they waited for their brothers to re-emerge.

“He’s not right,” Crosshair hissed as Wrecker brought him an armful of plates and began scraping the scraps into a compost bin. “He might be acting fine for now, but he isn’t.”

“I… I know,” Wrecker admitted. His grip tightened on a plate as he did and it cracked under his thumb.

“Wrecker!”

“Sorry!” He muttered, swiveling around to drop the whole plate in the garbage before he could cut himself on it, but it slipped and sliced the side of his finger anyways. “Damn.”

“Clean it,” Crosshair said with a sigh, stepping away from the sink and drying his hands on a towel.

Wrecker did as he was told, even if he grumbled about it, stuffing the injury under running water. It wasn’t even all that big, but Crosshair was already fumbling around for the first aid kit, and he knew better than to contradict him. Tech had been their medic before, but Crosshair had taken it upon himself to learn the basics once he returned, and hardly anything pissed off their littlest brother more than not taking care of an injury these days, no matter how small.

Just as he turned off the faucet and gave his hand to Crosshair for bandaging, Hunter, Echo and Omega came back from the room, with Hunter looking pale.

“...Something you two want to tell us?” Crosshair said in a dangerous tone, barely looking up from Wrecker’s hand.

Echo and Omega exchanged a dark look at that, and Wrecker’s gut twisted.

“Yes,” Omega said heavily. “I’m sorry but we really needed to wait to discuss it until Tech was asleep and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Out with it, ‘Mega,” Hunter bristled.

Wrecker barely noticed Crosshair finish dressing the cut and give him back his hand. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good news, he could tell. The energy in the room had shifted, and he should have known. Even if Hunter was the one with enhanced senses, Crosshair and Wrecker’s combined intuition was rarely wrong…

But nothing they learned now could be as bad as the idea of Tech being gone forever.

Echo squeezed Omegas shoulder, and she let out a deep sigh. “There’s… I don’t really know how to tell you this, we haven’t completely figured out the details of what he’s thinking yet but… Tech doesn’t think this is real.”

Wrecker blinked at her in confusion. That… That didn’t make sense.

“Not real?” Hunter repeated incredulously.

Omega gave him a solemn nod. “He thinks he’s dreaming… At least most of the time.”

Dreaming? Now Wrecker’s heart began to race. Tech didn’t know they were together again? He didn’t think he was home? That this was all just… Wishful thinking? All in his head? Fake?

Wrecker growled under his breath at the idea. How dare the Empire do that to him?! How DARE they hurt his big brother SO BADLY that he didn’t even KNOW-

“What do you mean by most of the time?” Crosshair hissed.

“I mean he’s confused,” Omega pleaded. “He acts like himself sometimes, like the way things used to be, then other times he talks like he’s still with the Empire and this is all a vision! He thinks he needs to return to his commanding officer, he thinks he’s going to be decommissioned-”

“DECOMMISSIONED?” Wrecker roared in horror. “NOBODY’s gonna decom him an’ - and if they EVER come back for him I’ll KILL ‘EM”

“Easy Wrecker. You’ll wake him,” Echo chided, but his voice was just as venomous as Wreckers, and Wrecker scoffed. “The Empire is like that,” Echo continued. “He told us it was common practice, and my intel says he’s right.”

Wrecker’s head was spinning. More things about what Tech had said before were starting to make sense, and they made him feel sick. How long had Tech held on to them during that hug, like he didn’t want it to end? There was that comment about dreaming of sushi, and his strange silence like he wasn’t fully there, and that thing he said about his own family not wanting him-

“So is he going to try to return to the Empire on us?” Crosshair interrupted Wreckers thoughts in a clipped tone, placing a steadying hand on Wrecker’s arm again.

“I don’t think so. Not right now anyways, he… He thinks he needs to wake up somehow to do that,” Omega explained. “But he’s afraid to go to sleep because he doesn’t want to wake up with the Empire again. We have to keep promising him we’ll still be here when he does, not them…”

“This… Could be a serious problem,” Hunter mused, rubbing his fingers hard against his own temples with his eyes closed in thought. “Once he figures out this is real…”

“If he figures out this is real,” Crosshair corrected, and Wrecker wheeled on him like he’d just suggested Pabu was covered in snow.

“Whadda’ya mean if?” Wrecker piped up. “He’s gotta know!”

“Why?” Crosshair snapped. “He’s here, isn’t he? He’s said he doesn’t want this dream to end and he’s less dangerous like this.”

“But that’s not right!” Wrecker cried, pulling his arm away from Crosshair. “We can’t all just lie to ‘im! He deserves better than that, he’s our brother!”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of! None of us do! Except maybe Omega!”

“Well if anything happens we’ll handle it! But it shouldn’t take trickin’ ‘im to keep ‘im around. That’s… Isn’t that what the Empire was doing?”

There were a couple sharp inhales at that. Wrecker looked around at each of them in turn before landing his gaze back on Crosshair, trying to understand why they would even think of handling this any other way.

“That’s part of what we need to talk about,” Echo said evenly. “Crosshair does make a point. Tech has been a CX-trooper for ten years. That influence doesn’t just go away.”

Omega nodded. “I barely made it out of my own fight with him… He was relentless. He fought with lethal force even when he was badly injured, I got lucky. If he didn’t get distracted at the end…”

Hunter made a choked sounding noise and immediately pulled Omega into his arms, as if to protect her from the very idea that she could get hurt like that or worse, and Omega chuckled into his hair just a little.

“I’m alright Hunter,” She said affectionately. “I really am, but I just mean to say… You really can’t underestimate him.”

“But Wrecker is right too,” Echo said darkly. “Lying to him is Empire osik, and we’re better than that. He deserves better than that.”

Wrecker let out a long breath. “It’s just… We can’t force him to believe anything, can we? Just cause we say this is real, it doesn’t mean he’ll believe us. But it’s still on us to be honest with him, and if it that causes a problem, we’ll deal with it then. He’s our brother. We gotta protect him but… We wouldn’t be doin’ a good job of that without being honest and showing him he’s loved. An’ lying wouldn’t be very loving.”

“I agree,” Hunter said. “We’ll have to be prepared for if he does… Wake up… But I think Wrecker’s right. We can’t just lie to him forever, not if we really want him back.”

Echo and Omega both nodded, and all eyes fell on Crosshair.

“Well it looks like I’m outvoted anyways,” He said snidely.

“Come on, Cross-”

“I think this is a bad idea,” Crosshair snapped. “I think you’re not taking the danger here seriously. But if you want to try and draw him back out so you can fight all his demons, fine. Have kriffing fun.”

With that Crosshair stalked out of the kitchen. Wrecker took a couple steps to follow, but a door slammed, and he stopped, torn.

“Let him go,” Hunter said tiredly. “You know how he gets. He just needs some time.”

“He hasn’t gotten like that in… In a while, Hunter,” Wrecker moaned. “I don’t want him to be upset all alone.”

Hunter let out a sigh. “I know. But… trust me.”

Wrecker hesitated a minute longer, but finally, he nodded, letting his shoulders drop.

A few minutes later they decided it would be better if they all went to bed early, all except Hunter, who took the first shift at Tech’s bedside just in case he woke up confused, to make sure they kept their promise. They had just set up the fourth bed in their shared room earlier this morning. Shep had brought it over for them as a gift, to make sure Tech was comfortable back home, at long last. Echo settled into Hunter’s bed to get some rest before taking second watch, and Wrecker crawled into his own with his eyes resting on Tech and the gentle rising and falling of his chest in the dim moonlight that streamed in through the windows.

He could have stayed awake the whole night like that, reminding himself Tech was here. Wrecker was going to remember everything about this best he could, so his last memory about Tech would be fresh and new every day from now on. But sleep hit him like an unexpectedly huge ocean wave and knocked him out in minutes, and the last thing he saw before succumbing to it was Tech roll over, looking peaceful in his sleep.

A good memory.

Partway through the night, Wrecker awoke to the sound of snoring, and he blinked a couple of times in the darkness of the room. The sound was coming from Crosshairs bed, and he could vaguely see the shape of his brother laying there.

Good. He made it back home.

Hunter seemed to be asleep in his own bed again, too, and Echo sat awake at Tech’s bedside. Wrecker met Echo’s eyes, and Echo gave him a tired, joyful smile, glancing down to where Tech was holding his hand in his sleep.

Yeah. It was all going to be okay.

They had so many new memories to make.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

OK BUT SOFT WRECKER HAS MY HEART IN A CHOKEHOLD SEND HELP 🥹😭

Please leave me fic fuel (comments and shit) cause I’m having a blast with this but it’s WAY more fun to carjack canon with *friends*!!! Lemme know if you wanna join the tag list!!!! @floofyroro @vimse @norraexploradora

Full I-Said-I-Would-Fix-It-And-I-Did Work: Implications Of Being Alive

[kybercrystals94]

Sacrifice and Loyalty

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 12 | Prompt 12: A Little Too Late

Rated: G | Words: 561 | Summary: Missing scene between episodes 3x11 and 3x12. | Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter

Spoilers for Season 3 Episodes 11 & 12

The moment Hunter slips through the door, he knows something is desperately wrong. The needled talons of dread claw up his throat from the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it back, but it lodges tightly just behind his tongue. 

Hunter takes in the occupants of the space. Wrecker, still unconscious, and Crosshair, sitting next to him with his rifle propped at the ready against his thigh. Their sister’s absence is cavernous. 

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter asks. 

Crosshair’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. He stands, leaning his rifle against the wall, and turns to face Hunter head on.   

“Omega turned herself in.” Crosshair states it, voice pressed flat of emotion. His hand trembles at his side, unchecked, as Crosshair looks anywhere but Hunter’s face. “She…” his dull voice catches, “She did it to save Pabu. They wouldn’t have stopped searching until they found her. It was only a matter of time.” He glances down, notices his hand and grips it in the other. “I tried to reason with her. She knew the risks.

“But I failed to protect her,” Crosshair continues. “I was supposed to get a tracker on the ship, but I missed. I missed, and she doesn’t know. She trusted me to make the shot, and I missed.” He fists his trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Hunter.”

The initial, reactive twist of Hunter’s features as the news settles is hidden behind his helmet. They just got her back, and the Empire snatched her away again. Righteous anger burns deep, and it takes every piece of Hunter’s exhausted resolve not to become violent, to throw something, break something, destroy something. It isn’t fair, what this galaxy has taken from them, has done to them, over and over again. 

Hunter takes a staggered step forward, and Crosshair flinches. It is subtle, almost imperceptible. But Hunter sees it, and his heart fractures further. His anger does not extend to Crosshair. How could it, when he sees his own turmoil and regret reflected in his little brother’s averted eyes? Hunter puts his anger away, thrusts it into the darkest corner of his mind to fester, and reaches up to take off his helmet. Crosshair’s gaze slides over to meet his as soon as his face is exposed. 

“I know you did everything you could,” Hunter says. He swallows. There is no comfort in the truth, just the reality. “Omega would have gone with or without you backing her up.” 

Hunter remembers seeing his sister after he and Wrecker were captured, small and fierce, energy bow drawn, refusing to hide away if there was any possibility of saving her brothers. Omega isn’t a soldier, but loyalty and sacrifice are saturated in her blood. Just like Tech. 

Naked surprise twitches Crosshair’s expression before settling back into careful neutral. He nods stiffly, looking away. “She put the people of Pabu before herself, risked everything so that we might find Tantiss. I was ambushed by troopers when I was lining up the shot for the tracker. I…I couldn’t recover my position in time…”

Hunter rests a hand on Crosshair’s pauldron. “Omega won’t blame you, Cross. I don’t blame you. We’ll find her again.” 

Crosshair swallows visibly and steadies himself before looking Hunter in the eye again. A small, despondent smile quirks the edge of his lips. “Not if she finds us first.” 

END

Heading into the next third of our prompts! Make sure you check out all of @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts contributions to Angstpril! They are amazing!! Here's an easy list of our first 10 prompt fills!

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[oh-three]

TBB S3E5:

Omg, Echo's in the thumbnail. Yay!

It's so satisfying to see Omega sleeping with Lula in her arms at long last.

Not Omega looking after Crosshair and trying to help him adjust 😭

Ayyy, AZI.

The familiarcy in which Crosshair's talking to Omega. The way he trusts her enough to tell her that he knows the others don't trust him, and the way she knows him well enough to know it bothers him 😭

Echo !!

"What? No hug for me?" Lmao. Echo made him smile, omg.

WHY DIDN'T WE GET TO SEE CROSS FIND OUT ABOUT TECH.

WE'RE GOING BACK TO BARTON IV.

"Don't hold it against him. He's only worried about you." Damn, never thought I'd hear Crosshair say that.

SHE CALLED HIM LITTLE BROTHER.

Barton IV 😭

Crosshair looking good in his old armor 😭 ❤

STOP INTERROGATING CROSS ABOUT BARTON IV.

"He started it." Lmao. True though.

The helmets are all still there 😭😭

Ice vulture theme reprise. I hear you.

Hunter backing off when he realizes Crosshair's behavior is grief is everything to me. Our man misses Mayday as much as the rest of us.

Something tells me they shouldn't have powered down those censors.

Avalanche?

HUNTER, CALM DOWN.

"I tried to warn you, Hunter. I risked everything to send you that message. You ignored it. You let Omega be taken to Tantiss. She went through what she did because you failed. You're angry because she escaped with my help, not yours." Honestly, if Hunter's gonna go at him, Crosshair deserved to get a couple jabs in there himself. Even if he is wrong.

Oooh, a checks notes wyrm.

Hunter still agreeing to work with Crosshair on getting the wyrm out despite the argument they just had. My man's already taken it all personally (because there's no way he's not blamed himself before) and shoved it aside.

All those posts about Batcher following Crosshair around were so right.

Wrecker is giving me Jurassic Park vibes restoring the power the way he is. Been a while since I've watched JP.

"You'll try?" / "Glad you heard me properly." 😂

JUMP.

Whoever built that outpost, whether it be Republic or Empire, knew what they were doing with those perimeter beacons Lmao. I wonder if Mayday knew about the wyrm.

The way Hunter looked at Crosshair after realizing that he saved his life without qualm. The way he's realized that Crosshair really did come back to them.

"And I don't even see any blood this time?" Damnnn, do they usually get into fights???? Checks out.

Echo praising Omega and telling her exactly what she needed to hear. That he, who's been saving all the clones, doesn't blame her for getting out while she could. That he doesn't blame her for leaving them.

"All we can do is keep trying to be better." 😭

The episode ending on the ice vulture music makes me wanna cry.

[hipwell]

i’ve been thinking about the bad batch nonstop since watching infiltration/extraction, and i wanted to share some thoughts (mostly about the clone operatives and crosshair)

i think it’s really interesting that this is the first time crosshair is talking about the clone operatives program. i think he is definitely dealing with a lot of guilt about everything, but i also noticed he seemed so scared about the shadows (especially when he found out rex had one and when they were talking to him).

i think they are definitely implying that there’s something crosshair isn’t telling his brothers about, especially when the hostage operative suggested crosshair had answers the rebel clones were looking for.

i have 2 theories on what crosshair might be hiding:

1. if i remember correctly, we have seen 3 clone operatives before (one on coruscant in s2, and the two in these recent episodes). they displayed sharpshooting skills, especially with the last one continuously using the scope. this could be unrelated to crosshair, because we have seen other clones as snipers during the war. however, we know these clone operatives were a hemlock project. part of me thinks hemlock may have tried to use crosshair’s genetic material while reprogramming the operatives, since the reconditioning wouldn’t work on him. this could be contributing to his hand tremor, and he might be degenerating faster because of experimentation. this idea made me look back to see how the timeline works out, and i realized we see the first operative on coruscant before crosshair is arrested and taken to tantiss. so maybe i just pulled this idea out of nowhere, but i still feel like the show made a point to show the last operative using a sniper rifle throughout the episode and there’s an intentional parallel to crosshair.

2. i think another possible reason crosshair may be hiding something is because he knows who some of the operatives are (or used to be). we have yet to have any success getting through to the operative clones, so i think it would be reasonable for crosshair to feel like it’s too late to save these ones. that might be a reason for not telling his brothers that someone they are close to is an operative.

after watching the episode, i thought the surviving operative was probably a reg since he was the same size as wolffe. that makes me think it might be cody. we know from s7 of tcw that the batch had a good relationship with him, and we don’t know what happened after he went AWOL in s2. as much as i would love to think cody ran away to find obi wan in the desert, i think if he got away he would have found rex and the other rebel clones. this makes me think he might have been caught and taken to tantiss. also, we have seen cody’s skills with a vibroblade before.

the other possibility, which i am far from the first to suggest, is tech. i have tried to maintain the mindset that tech is dead until i see that he’s not. i think star wars theories and predictions can often take on a life of their own and fans can set themselves up for disappointment when things go differently. i also think the writing both before and after the plan 99 episode makes sense for tech’s sacrifice to be his death. that being said, i can’t help but wonder if he might have survived. i pretty much shot down the possibility of tech being the surviving operative while watching the episodes, once again due to his height. i was under the impression that tech was 6’4” (1.93 m), and that’s what it says on wookieepedia (my favorite source, ily). this should make him significantly taller than wolffe, since the regs are 6’ tall (1.83 m). however, i saw a couple people point out that these heights aren’t super consistent with the show. referring back to a couple of scenes (pics below) tech seems to be only about 2” taller than hunter, who is listed as 5’11” (1.8 m). this definitely makes me no longer rule out tech (even though i’m still so hesitant to be hopeful that he survived). there were also a lot of parallels in the last episode that made me think of tech; in particular, the grappling hook and the handful of times the operative falls (if it is tech, the falling is so evil omg). i also found it interesting the operative questioned why he was activated, but that could also literally be nothing.

whether the operative is someone we know, if there’s something more to them that we don’t know yet, or none of the above, the show made sure to let us know that he survived. this makes me think we will be seeing a lot more of him, and hopefully soon because i am really enjoying how much mystery there is surrounding the things hemlock is doing on tantiss.

this is completely unrelated and not even a prediction, but i really want to see boba before the series ends. ever since s1, i have desperately wanted boba to meet his baby sister. he’s the same age as the gen 1s so i think he would be about 15 years old at this point, so i don’t know how realistic it is to hope he’s one of the bounty hunters looking for omega (although he was already doing hoodrat shit in tcw so maybe). i’m not sure of another way they might cross paths, so it’s probably wishful thinking.

one final thought: i fear this series is going to end tragically. the clones’ story has always been a tragedy, and it would be foolish of me to expect a happy ending. we only know the futures of rex, wolffe, and gregor (and the homeless trooper in obi wan); i wouldn’t be surprised if we end the series with only a few other survivors. i don’t think they would kill omega, but i don’t think any other members of the batch are safe. i think they might be setting us up to lose hunter, with his reluctance to get involved in the fight. realistically, we could lose all of them (i will walk into traffic).

anyways, thanks if you read my ramblings!! this is basically all i’ve been thinking about lately so i would love to hear what other people have to say <3

[sergeantgoggles]

Hello! For the kiss prompts, can I ask for Howzer/Rex with 💖?

This definitely grew legs, but I felt it was important to really set up the scene for the emotions.

Enjoy, friend!

.

Several emotions and thoughts circled through Howzer’s mind as he and several other clone prisoners were bound and escorted onto a transport ship, destination unknown. The name “Tantiss” had been thrown around, but it wasn’t a planet he’d ever heard of. He thought about his men, how so many of them had died at the hands of the Empire defending what they believed in, and he thought about his time on Ryloth, about Cham and Eleni, and of Hera.

He thought about Crosshair, oddly enough, and hoped that one day he would wake up and realize that the Empire wasn’t what he thought it was. They didn’t care about clones, and they were going to discard him the way the rest of them had been. Howzer hoped that he was able to find his way back to his squad.

As the door to the transport closed and his fate seemed sealed, he took solace in knowing that someone would be waiting for him, so they could march on together.

Howzer let himself stare at seemingly nothing, but behind his eyes were images of Rex, his contagious smile, his warm eyes. If he closed his eyes and blocked out the noise around him, he could feel Rex’s lips, hear his laughter, his voice in his ear making promises after the war. Dangerous thing, those promises, and a shame that he never got to keep them, because he would have. Rex had always been a man of his word.

At least, Howzer figured, Rex would be there on the other side, and he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore how he was supposed to keep fighting when the one he was fighting for had gone on ahead.

Commotion outside the door drew him from his thoughts, and he readied himself to fight. He owed it to Rex to at least try to live on, even if his situation looked more dire with each passing day. When the door hissed open, his eyes widened, and his veins were filled with something he dare didn’t call hope.

“Fireball?”

“Good to see you, Sir,” the trooper greeted and motioned for them, Howzer and the other clones with him, to follow.

Once they were to safety, Howzer confronted the other clone he’d recognized, the one from Crosshair’s old squad. “Quite the operation you’ve got going on here.”

The trooper, no, this one was an ARC, if the tan kama were any indication. He gave Howzer a charming smile and put a hand on his hip. “We’ve been at this for a little while, but once we saw your name on the manifest, your rescue became our top priority.”

Howzer blinked in surprise. “We’ve met, but I doubt I left that kind of impression on you…”

“Echo,” the ARC supplied, “and it wasn’t my decision, but I’ll always fight to save a brother who stood up for what was right.”

“Then whose decision was it?” Howzer questioned, brow raised, and arms crossed.

Echo laughed a little and turned back to the console to look out over the stars as they flew through hyperspace. “You’ll see soon enough. Once we’re back on Coruscant it’ll all be explained.”

Howzer wasn’t happy with that answer, but it was clear that was the only one that he was going to get for now. He sighed and took a seat. Might as well wait. At least he was with brothers and not in the hands of the Empire.

Upon landing on Coruscant, he was greeted by several other troopers that had taken refuge there, along with the Senator from Pantora, who he’d heard was taking a stand for clone rights. They chatted for a little while, and Howzer offered her any information that he could. Anything to help the cause.

He’d caught Echo as he was about to leave, off to find someone to hack into the data he’d managed to extract from the ship before they had to leave. “Say, Echo, you were in Crosshair’s squad, right? Did he…ever make it back to you?”

Echo paused, then shook his head. “It’s complicated, but no, he didn’t.”

“I see,” Howzer frowned, “but, where are the rest of them? Why are you here without them?”

“I…chose a different path,” Echo answered vaguely. “Clone Force 99 took me in after I was rescued from Skako Minor, but they want to keep a low profile. When I heard my former Captain was organizing a rebellion, well, I couldn’t just sit back and let him have all the fun, right?”

They shared a laugh, then Howzer asked, “Who was your old Captain? Anyone I know?”

A mischievous glint glittered in Echo’s eyes then, but before he could answer, another voice joined the conversation. “You might know him.”

Howzer froze. He knew that voice better than he knew his own, and Echo’s knowing smirk told him that if he turned around, his suspicions would be right, but he didn’t dare move.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Echo dismissed himself and boarded his ship, leaving him alone with the ghost approaching his back.

“Howzer—"

“You’re dead,” Howzer whispered. “It was all over the comm channels. Your name was among the ones that perished with the 332nd when they crashed into that moon.”

He could feel breath on the back of his neck, hands timidly settling at his hips, could smell the same aftershave that Rex insisted on using because the GAR issued one didn’t smell right. Howzer gasped as lips brushed his ear, and he slammed his eyes shut to will the hot sting of tears away.

“Howzer, look at me.”

Slowly, Howzer turned, eyes downcast, terrified that he would see someone else. Strong fingers cupped his chin and drew his gaze up, and Howzer felt the air leave his lungs.

“Rex—”

“I saw your name on that manifest, and you became my top priority,” Rex explained softly, “I told you if you ever needed me that I would come for you, Howzer. I’m…sorry that it took so—”

Howzer surged forward, slotting their lips together and wrapping his arms around Rex’s neck. Rex was alive, he was here, flesh and bone and breathing, and his lips still tasted sweet like a fine wine. Once Rex’s brain caught up, his arms moved around Howzer, pulling him impossibly close, hands roaming his sides, then into his hair, deepening the kiss. Before Howzer knew it they were moving, Rex guiding him backwards on the platform until his back hit the wall. The soft groan that rolled from his tongue gave Rex the opportunity to to enter, licking the inside of his mouth, reminding Howzer of that equisite taste that he could never get enough of during the war.

“I’m sorry,” Rex murmured hotly between increasingly feverish kisses, “I should have found you sooner.”

“Don’t,” Howzer gasped, giving in to Rex trailing hot, open mouth kisses across his cheek then down along his jaw, then his neck. Everything was too hot, too much. Rex was alive and kissing him breathless and Howzer had half a mind to question if he had died on that transport because this was too perfect to be real. “Rex…”

“I missed you,” Rex breathed, coming up for air for only a moment before diving in to kiss his lips again. “I missed you so much.”

Howzer moaned, even as his emotions overwhelmed him and tears tracked down his cheeks. He needed more, needed Rex to make him believe this was real.

“I need to feel you, Rex,” he exhaled, “Please—”

“I have all night,” Rex replied with a promise and another searing kiss. “I’m not going anywhere, not without you, not anymore.”

Howzer’s hands slid into short blonde hair as their foreheads came to rest against the other’s, and Rex’s thumbs wiped away the tears that were staining Howzer’s cheeks. From batchmates to lovers, Howzer had never expected that even when the galaxy was against them that Rex would still be right here, holding him up and pushing him to be the best he could be.

“Rex?”

“Yeah?”

Howzer smiled, really smiled for the first time in what felt like centuries. He found Rex’s hands, still on his hips, and laced their fingers together. “I missed you, too.”

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

A Fair Price To Pay

@febuwhump prompt: "Who did this to you" @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Tortured for Information

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Crosshair, Omega, Hemlock Post Season 2: Escape from Tantiss. If you've read my fic 'A Cosy Bed', you know what's in store for Crosshair. Enjoy. Word Count: ~9675 Read Here On AO3

Content Warning: Graphic Descriptions Of Violence/Injuries Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Crosshair is determined to get Omega out of Tantiss, even if their freedom comes at a price.

Along the way, she saves him too.

Hemlock walked slowly around the table, inspecting the restraints that his assistant tightened to hold the tall clone in place. Yes, CT-9904 was weakened from his long incarceration, but this time they weren’t taking any chances.

“I am truly impressed by your fortitude and ingenuity,” he said, in that soft-spoken tone that somehow imparted so much more fear than those leaders who raised their voices. “I thought it remarkable, but a fluke, that you escaped the first time and attempted to transmit a message to your… ‘brothers’… to warn them about – well. You know.

“But to defy me again, and hide the girl from me?”

He stopped at the head of the table, leaning into the periphery of Crosshair’s vision. Crosshair couldn’t turn his head – he was fastened too tightly to do more than twitch in defiance. He kept his gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling, trying to refute the weakness in his body, the faint tremor that set up in his muscles in response to fatigue and fear.

“I would like you to tell me where she is.” A soft plea, but insistent. “This facility is a big place, and she may come to harm if she is unattended. So please, Crosshair. Could you tell me where Omega is?”

Hemlock’s request sounded so reasonable.

Crosshair blinked and said nothing. Bit the sides of his tongue to keep from talking. Stared at the ceiling. At the ceiling. Not at the vents. Lifting Omega up, hiding her in a vent. Hissing at her to stay silent, not to be found.

Stare at the ceiling, don’t answer.

Don’t answer.

Hemlock sighed. “It disappoints me that you are unwilling to co-operate.” He gestured to his assistant, and a needle bit into the skin of Crosshair’s neck. Don’t look. Don’t give them the satisfaction of looking.

“What can I do that might compel you to tell me the girl’s whereabouts? There is nothing I can offer you. You have proven, repeatedly, that you cannot be trusted to submit to incarceration without resistance.” A soft huff of laughter. “Perhaps I should be unsurprised. The Kaminoan reports always indicated that your batch of ‘enhanced’ clones were unreliable.”

A warm, numb feeling began to spread through Crosshair’s body. His mind worked sluggishly. What had they dosed him with? He wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t betray the kid. It was the least he could do. Try and protect her. It’s what Hunter would want.

Sensation dropped away. There was no table. No restraints. His body was cushioned on air.

Hemlock was still talking.

“If I cannot offer reward for co-operation, I must threaten punishment. Thus far, you have been remarkably resistant to our… usual methods of data extraction.”

Data extraction. Torture. Crosshair’s jaw worked. Was he trying to talk? He shouldn’t do that. Didn’t want to. That’s what they wanted. They wanted him to talk. Tell them about Omega, hiding in the vent. Waiting for him to come back.

That’s right. He’d promised her he would come back, once he’d found a way out. He’d better go find her.

Tried to move his legs, but they wouldn’t function. That was odd. He pictured rolling to his side, standing up, off the table. Staggering forwards. Wondered why his body wouldn’t obey.

“The sedative should have taken effect by now.”

Sedative. That would do it. The numbness.

Why would they sedate him?

Hemlock wore a small smile as he leaned directly into the path of Crosshair’s vision. He blinked, the doctor’s face swimming in and out of focus.

“What can I take from you?” Hemlock asked softly, almost to himself. “What do you treasure? What do you hold on to in the belief that it sets you apart from all the other multitudes of clones in the galaxy?”

A medical droid hovered into view. This wasn’t right. Crosshair was still conscious. If they had sedated him, consciousness should fade. Instead he was awake, thoughts wildly roaming and unable to take action as his mind had become uncoupled from his body.

Crosshair was just barely aware of a touch to his face – Hemlock, tracing a finger down the fine line of his tattooed eye socket.

“I think,” said the doctor with a humourless smile, “I shall take your sight.”

The droid unfolded its appendages, positioning the fine, sharp tools just above Crosshair’s right eye.

“Do tell me, Crosshair, if you want me to stop. We can desist at any time. I just need to know where you have hidden Omega.”

Crosshair didn’t know if he could make his mouth work anyway, in this drug-induced dream-haze. At least he wouldn’t be able to give the girl up by accident.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Hemlock’s voice was more distant now, the doctor retreating to give the medical droid space to work.

“The sedative has robbed you of motor function. It has not dulled your pain receptors.”

*

Crosshair had been conscious for surgery before, in the labs of Kamino; pain numbed but mind sharp, responding to each instruction to focus, read this, can you see that, whilst the surgeons grafted synthetic muscle to his enhanced eyes to give him unprecedented control over his superior eyesight. Back then he had been silent, answering only when spoken to, bitterly determined to see the ordeal through with iron willpower.

Now, mind numbed but pain sharp, Crosshair found his voice. Moreso than the pain, panic ate at his nerves; strapped down, unable to flee, the right side of his world going dim.

Even when tears choked him, he didn’t give up Omega.

The sedative was still leaden in his body when he was returned to his cell, laid into the barren cot with a tasteless meal placed on the floor beside.

Hemlock was a shadowed figure just beyond the doorway as the droid assistant retreated.

“If I do not find Omega by the end of the next day,” came the doctor’s soft, even voice, “I will return for your other eye. If you wish to disclose her whereabouts, you have only to alert the guards.”

The door shut with a clang, the finality of a tombstone settling into place. Crosshair tested his sluggish limbs. He could move in an uncoordinated way, like swimming through heavy atmosphere. He dragged himself to the edge of the cot, all but falling to the floor, right hand coming up to claw at his hollow eye socket. A sob welled up but he swallowed it, forcing silence to his lips instead. On the floor he curled, foetal, arms cradling and protecting his head, one remaining eye squeezed shut to block out the reality of his loss.

If he kept his eye shut, he could pretend that’s all it was. Just like having his eyes closed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Perhaps he finally slept from exhaustion.

A scratching sound nearby permeated his consciousness, slowly dragging his mind back from the numb vortex of despair his thoughts circled. A sound not in his cell. A sound in the walls.

Carefully he rolled to his side, pushing up to sit cross-legged with his back to the noise. His right shoulder hunched high, defensive, shielding his broken face. With his left arm he reached across his body, pulling the food tray to him, then without turning shuffled backwards until he was leaned against the wall.

Once he was there he sagged against the supporting expanse of steel, drained even by that small amount of movement. Fatigue coursed through him with quivering intensity, invading his thoughts and muscles with equal ferocity, but he forced himself to gather the bread roll from the tray and slowly start picking it to pieces.

Once the roll was in shreds he tucked his hands behind the small of his back, posting the fragments of bread through the vent.

Omega’s fingertips brushed against his and he stilled, almost ready to weep at the contact. He tilted his head back against the cool steel, closing his eyes. Closing one eye, trying not to feel how his eyelid stretched in pain over the empty place his right eye used to be. He briefly squeezed her fingers in return.

“Eat up, kid,” he whispered, voice no more than an exhaled breath. “You’re going to need your strength.”

“Have you got something to eat too?”

Crosshair cracked open his left eye, peering uncertainly at the tray. “Yeah. There’s stew.”

“Can’t pass that through a grate,” came Omega’s voice with forced cheer, and tears stung his lids at the way she could find levity even in the darkest situations.

When he finished passing the bread he reached out and lifted the bowl to his lips, sipping at the stew. His hands shook so much that the ceramic bashed against his teeth, the vibration sending a fresh jolt of pain to his empty eye-socket, and he hissed in displeasure.

“Crosshair?” Omega’s voice was small and concerned. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

He took a breath. Summoned up some deep reserve of determination and stilled his quaking.

“I’m fine,” he said, and there was enough acid in his tone that he sounded almost like his old self. Then, “We’re getting out of here. Tonight.”

He heard a shuffling as she shifted her position within the walls. “What do I need to do, Crosshair? Tell me, and I’ll be ready.”

“Get back to the loose vent panel as the base switches over to night-cycle,” he said, trying to inject more confidence than he felt into his words. “I’ll meet you there.”

*

Tech had taught him all about their enhanced physiology. Had taught all of them, lecturing his brothers for hours on end to ensure they understood their enhancements so that they could best utilise them.

All clone troopers possessed an element of rapid healing, allowing them to shrug off injuries that would stall a nat-born, or recover more quickly from even more grievous wounds. And Experimental Unit 99 was enhanced even further than that, their growth and repair times even faster.

Crosshair wasn’t sure Hemlock knew that. Didn’t think he’d accounted for how quickly his body would break down the torture drugs which had been a feature of his long incarceration. He’d certainly never given them reason to suspect that he recovered faster than normal from the toxins they flooded his system with.

Too busy laying there in despair for them to think the drugs had worn off any quicker.

He would make use of that unintentional obfuscation now. They would expect him to still be staggered by the sedative.

All his short life, he’d been underestimated. Now, as before, he would turn it to his advantage.

“Guard.” He injected a tremulous note of feebleness into his voice. “Guard.”

An armoured solder appeared at the door of his cell. Not clone armour. The TK troopers.

“What do you want, prisoner?”

“Hemlock,” he stuttered. It wasn’t so hard to pretend, lances of pain stabbing through his head from behind his right orbit. “O…me…ga…”

A quick conference outside the door. The sound of retreating footsteps. The door opened, and the one remaining guard entered.

“On your feet,” came the command as he was grabbed roughly by his arm, “ready for the Doctor.”

Crosshair let himself be dragged upright, sagging his weight away from the TK soldier. Feigning weakness long enough for the man to off-balance to catch him.

One rapid, smooth move to sweep the knife from the sheath at the trooper’s belt. A single upward stroke of his arm, ending with the blade embedded under the rim of the helmet. A quiet gurgle and now it was the TK trooper’s turn to sag, Crosshair catching him and staggering under the weight.

He eased the dying man to the floor soundlessly, glancing at the door. Had he been too loud? Would someone investigate?

Hunter would know. Hunter would hear someone coming, sense them, long before they arrived.

Crosshair didn’t have Hunter. Only his own, un-enhanced senses, dulled by pain, and vision that swam in and out and faded disconcertingly where his peripheral sight used to be on the right.

He quashed the rising panic. With trembling hands he set to releasing the catches on the dead man’s armour, fasting it to his own body with the rote instinct of years performing the same actions, no matter how shell-shocked he felt. Knife at his belt. Pistol at one hip, blaster in hands.

Pulled on the helmet, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the close warmth of another man’s gear pressing around his injured face. Activated the HUD. Wished he knew how to compensate for his missing eye.

Wearily, he pulled himself to his feet. Both hands clutched the blaster, trying to still the tremors that ran through him. The armour felt unbearably heavy, and he wondered how he ever used to carry this weight, let alone move agile and evasive across battlefields.

He looked down at the youth whose lifeblood pooled darkly on the ground, eyes glassy and unseeing in death. There was nowhere to hide the body, and even a cursory glance would show it wasn’t Crosshair, so no point trying to disguise it in the small cot. He forced his body straight, falling into the memory of rigid protocol to step out of the cell, just another guard, another obedient soldier–

Two more guards, at the end of the corridor. Their visors trained on him as he walked slowly, so slowly, towards them. Too slow? No. Slow enough to be relaxed. Like a guard who thought nothing was wrong.

“The Doctor will be here shortly,” one of them told him.

Did they expect a response? His voice would give him away, knowing that his soft, sibilant tone would never pass for the voice of the young conscripted trooper. A slight incline of his head, acknowledging he had heard. Would it be enough?

The guards parted, and one keyed the door open for him.

Past the first hurdle. Now to find Omega.

*

The stolen helmet was oppressive, tight and humid. His breath was harsh in the close space and sweat beaded on skin which flushed hot and cold, clammy and uncomfortable. With each step the headgear rubbed against swollen right side of his face, bruising stretched tight over his angular cheekbones, and he was certain that someone would notice he didn’t walk with the confidence of a soldier who owned this armour.

Where had he spotted the loose vent; the one he had boosted Omega up to when stray chance had brought them together in an empty corridor the day before? His attention drifted and he pressed a hand to the helmet, trying to steady his pounding head. Perhaps the sedative wasn’t fully out of his system. Too late to worry now. There was no going back.

They would make it out today, or he would die. That’s all there was to it.

He stumbled, catching himself against the wall, letting the blaster in his right hand drop limply to his side. A wave of nausea coursed through him, the meagre meal he had consumed threatening to reappear. Desperate, he glanced around. Not alone. Two guards, escorting prisoners the opposite direction.

No choice. His stomach convulsed, vomit and bile burning up his throat and into his mouth. Unthinking, he dropped the blaster and wrenched the helmet off, lunch spewing forth as he collapsed to his hands and knees. Dimly he was aware of clamouring voices as he dry-heaved, clawing his fingers against the slick puddle of vomit inches from his face.

“That’s one of the prisoners!”

Still dazed, he felt himself picked up and slammed against the wall. What was left of his vision swam, agony lancing through his head at the impact, a hot poker of pain rocketing from the base of his skull to the aching emptiness of his right eye socket. A fist found his gut, robbing him of breath he had barely recovered, before some deep-seated need to survive burned through the numbness and he thought to fight back.

Another blow to the stomach and he doubled over. His hand groped for the pistol at his hip. Once he could have done this in a heartbeat – release the cover, draw the pistol, fire. Old training guided his muscles but new weakness hobbled him; one, two, three attempts to free the pistol.

Someone grabbed his throat, squeezing, dragging him upright. The guard. Fingers pressed into his windpipe, hard enough to bruise. Crosshair couldn’t swallow the mewl of fear as he writhed in the unforgiving grip.

Then the pistol was free, blast bolt ricocheting from the floor, and the sound of live fire was drowned by a ragged cheer from the chain of prisoners who surged towards where Crosshair struggled with the guards.

Crosshair shakily brought the pistol to bear, firing again, but the guard released his throat and knocked his hand aside. The shot went wide and Crosshair grunted as the guard tackled him, pinning him to the wall.

The second guard was readying his own blaster, backing away from the cluster of prisoners he had lost control of, trying to angle over his partner’s shoulder at Crosshair. Crosshair tilted his head back, gasping as another blow found his narrow ribs, tuning out the pain as he focused on the second guard.

He raised the pistol. His arm was shaking. Stars danced across his vision, going dark as his grip on consciousness faded.

Three shots. The third hit. The guard fell.

Noise swelled. The body was swarmed by his fellow prisoners before it hit the floor. Summoning a desperate reserve of strength, Crosshair shoved at his assailant. The guard stepped back for just a moment, then lunged.

Pain exploded in his face as the guard’s fist connected with his cheekbone. For a moment Crosshair sagged, the oblivion of unconsciousness pulling tantalisingly at his senses. But before he met that relief he was wrenched back to full awareness, a raw scream torn from his throat, as two fingers hooked into the bottom of his orbital socket and pulled.

Crosshair howled as he dropped to his knees, forced down by pressure which might have been the barest touch or might have been the weight of a neutron star; it didn’t matter, his body would do nothing but obey the grip inside his broken eye-socket. Somewhere within the excruciating blossom of pain, newly repaired skin from the surgical extraction tore.

Then the weight of his attacker was lifted from his body and still he howled, and the pistol was prised from his fingers and there were hands on his shoulders and someone was shaking him.

“He’s dead. He’s dead. Pull yourself together. You looked like you were going somewhere.”

Clawing at his face, blood pulsing lazily down his cheek, Crosshair gazed up in desperation. Prisoner’s garb. A familiar face. The hollow cheeks and shaved head of an underweight reg.

“Echo?” he groaned, reaching out with his left hand, fastening trembling fingers round the other’s arm.

A shake of the head. “Sorry, brother.” The reg was crouched in front of him, tearing strips from his sleeved tunic and wadding them up to press to Crosshair’s face. The sniper hissed and recoiled, the fresh damage to his eye socket settling into an intense, pulsing nexus of hurt.

“Is he alright?” asked another voice.

“Don’t think so.”

“I’m fine,” ground out Crosshair, pushing away at the ministering hands, staggering to his feet. He glanced around, searching, but one reg was holding out the pistol, and another had the stolen helmet.

His thoughts were sluggish, swirling in a disparate haze of pain and fatigue, but through it all one goal cut clearly.

“I have to go,” he muttered, gesturing for the pistol. It was placed in his palm, his arm sagging tiredly by his side. Then the reg holding the helmet stepped in front of him, reverently offering the protective headgear.

“Is there anything we can do?” one of them asked, and a murmur of assent rippled through the group.

Crosshair eased the helmet back on, panting shallowly through his mouth. Adrenaline demanded his body continue, even as his mind wanted to shut down.

“A distraction,” he muttered, voice distorted by the vocoder. What he wouldn’t give to have Wrecker and his explosions by his side.

A reassuring hand clasped his shoulder.

“Leave it to us.”

*

The loose vent. Crosshair came to a halt, pressing one hand to the side of his helmet, pretending to receive a com as another group of guards marched past. At the far end of the corridor a maintenance droid whirred away in silent industry.

He positioned himself opposite the vent, but had to turn his head to check both approaches were clear. The right side of his vision was a haze of red and black.

“Omega,” he hissed, low and urgent.

He saw the gleam of her eyes in the dark, checked the corridor once more. Then he stepped under the vent, lifting his arms up to her.

The girl pushed the vent from inside, sliding it out until it swung free on the one screw that held it. Then she reversed her position, shuffling out legs first and wriggling until her body dangled down the wall, holding on with the lip of the vent under her armpits.

“Drop,” he instructed, and she did. He reached out to catch her.

Almost missed.

One hand lodged securely under her armpit. The other was wide, and Omega squeaked in alarm as the uneven brake tilted her descent sidewards. Crosshair flung his other arm around her chest, pulling her tight and breaking her speed against his body, staggering as her weight hit him.

“Quiet,” he choked out as a fresh shockwave of pain lit up his nerves. He wasn’t sure if he spoke to her or to himself. The pressure inside his skull was so intense he felt sure it would fracture.

“Crosshair?” came her quiet voice, and the single word of his name was saturated with concern.

Crosshair lowered her the rest of the way to the floor, shuddering breath into his lungs. He looked up at the open vent. He’d meant to catch her and keep her aloft so she could replace it.

“We need to move,” he gasped, fingers closing vice-like round her shoulder as she turned to face him. He drew her to his left side “Stay close to me.”

A hum as the power cycled, and the lights of the corridor dimmed. The base was switched to night cycle. Distantly, the maintenance droid continued to rumble.

Crosshair fumbled to retrieve the blaster he had stowed to catch her. He didn’t mean to lean so much on her slim frame. Wasn’t certain he could walk without the support.

“Where are we going?” Omega asked, starting forwards with halting steps at the pressure of his hand. “What’s the escape plan?”

“Get to the hanger level,” said Crosshair, hoping that the vocoder would blur the exhaustion in his voice.  “We’ll find a shuttle.”

Omega’s small hand curled over his, squeezing. “There’s no way we can reach the hangers undetected,” she said hesitantly.

He didn’t know how to assuage her fear.

“Keep going,” he muttered, pushing her forwards.

*

Luck was on their side, at first.

Crosshair’s disguise held. The armour may have been an ill fit for his six-four frame, but it was the armour of a TK trooper, and nobody expected TK troopers to be an identical height the way clones were. Omega, in her medical assistant’s garb, simply looked like she was being escorted between assignments by Crosshair’s firm grip.

Crosshair’s stamina didn’t hold. Every step was a supreme effort of willpower, calling his attention back from the soft edges of the void to try and stay upright. His earlier nausea had given way to a gnawing enervation, his thoughts spacing out in absent drifts as he struggled to keep a continuous thread of consciousness.

His footsteps became heavy, dragging along the floor, and he stumbled. He caught his weight against Omega’s frame, felt her arms go round his waist to support him. Across the hall, heads turned to look at them.

“Report, soldier,” barked a captain, peeling away from his unit. “What’s the matter?”

Crosshair dragged his head up, trying to train his attention on the man. An enemy. Someone planning to stop their escape.

Achingly, shakingly, he began to raise his arm with the blaster.

Omega stepped firmly in front of him, arms out defensively. “This soldier is sick,” she said, her voice firm and uncompromising. A blaster was pointed her way, but she didn’t waver. “I am taking this patient for treatment.”

“And who are you?” came the dispassionate question. “Identify yourself.”

“Um,” began Omega, and the hesitation was enough to end them. The captain tensed, raising his weapon aggressively.

“Identify yourself!”

Pain zeroed in on Crosshair’s mind, forcing out all higher thought. There was nothing left, nothing but the need to survive.

He raised his arm. Raked a ragged line of fire through the captain, through his squad. Wavered on his feet as the men yelled and dived, trying to evade his haphazard attack.

One of the blaster bolts had taken down the captain at least. The others in the squad scrambled for defensive positions, nursing wounds, readying weapons. A bolt of blaster fire zipped into the dark space where his peripheral vision once was.

“Crosshair!”

Omega was clinging to his arm, dragging him, stumbling, into cover. She grabbed the pistol from his holster, peeking out to spy their enemies.

Deep-trained discipline kicked in. Crosshair crouched over Omega, shielding her body with his own. Sighted down the weapon. Watched his first shots go wide. Compensated. Still missed.

His sight was shot. Depth perception gone. Injury and exhaustion worked on his body to rob his hands of their steadiness.

Everything that had made him what he was; taken from him.

Crashing to his knees, head lolling, the blaster fell limply from his hands. He clutched at the right side of the visor, the reality of his lost sight hitting home. Unbidden, a wail of despair was dragged from him; back arched, head thrown back, a desperate keening sound ripped from his lungs and garbled through the helmet’s vocoder into an electronic howl which gave pause to the firefight, TK soldiers looking about in confusion.

Omega emerged from their meagre cover and levelled the pistol. Her expression went hard, eyes glinting in determination.

Every shot found its mark. With every shot she claimed a life, until the corridor echoed with sudden stillness after the fight.

She didn’t wait. Immediately she grabbed Crosshair’s arm, looping it across her shoulders and dragging him to his feet.

“Come on,” she implored, half plea, half command. “We have to make it to the lift.”

Crosshair allowed himself to be pulled along, unable to resist. Something in the back of his mind needled him as he let her take his weight, barely able to hold himself upright.

“I’m… slowing you down,” he managed, trying feebly to shake free of her support.

“I’m not leaving here without you, Crosshair.”

Deep inside, her words were a balm to his injured soul. She wouldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t. He swallowed thickly against the pulsating agony in his head and tried to keep up.

*

They reached the lift, Omega keying in the code to summon the capsule that would carry them up to the hanger level. Crosshair slouched against the wall, breathing heavily. It was all he could do to stay upright.

When the doors parted Omega led him through, her small hands in his, before she took charge of that control panel too. Sinking to the floor, Crosshair tilted his head back and let his mind swim in and out of consciousness. Not far now. Not far.

“An alert has been triggered,” came Omega’s voice, soft and distraught. “Reporting our escape. They’ll be waiting for us when the lift stops.”

Crosshair knew he should care about that. He waved a hand dismissively.

“I can handle it.”

He sensed – didn’t see, his eye was closed – her crouch next to him.

“You’re injured, Crosshair.”

He shook his head, but she was gently releasing the seal from the helmet and lifting it from his head. He didn’t have the strength to stop her.

The helmet clattered to the floor as she gasped, hands going to her mouth in shock. Bitterly, Crosshair rolled his head to one side. Tried to hide the right side of his face from her.

“Crosshair.” Her voice choked on tears. “Who did this to you?”

He knew how it must look. His right eye socket, empty. Bruising purpling the hollow lids, stretched across bone. Fine-line tattoo lost under a crust of dried blood.

“It doesn’t matter,” he managed through gritted teeth. He peered at her out of the slit of his left eye, dark brown iris glinting in the low light. “Are you okay?”

She threw herself at his chest, arms wrapping round him in a tight embrace. He grunted at the contact but raised his left arm weakly, folding it over her back and stroking her hair.

“Hey now, kid,” he murmured, words faint. “Don’t get soft on me. We’ve still got a fight ahead of us.”

She stayed pressed against him, and he felt her warm tears on his collar. Didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.

*

The lift jolted to a halt, throwing them about and drawing a protesting hiss of pain from Crosshair. Omega raised her head, dashing her arm across her damp eyes, and looked about.

“There’s a new alert,” she said, scrambling up to inspect the panel. “It says there’s a fire! The lift has been deactivated. What do we do now?”

A thin-lipped, humourless smile pressed across Crosshair’s face. “A distraction,” he said aloud, wry satisfaction in his voice.

He dragged himself up, staggered as he lifted Omega onto his shoulder and directed her to open the emergency hatch in the ceiling. He barely managed to stay upright as she climbed up, and had sagged back to his knees when she reached down through the hatch for him.

“Come on, Crosshair.” Her voice was filled with stubborn determination. “You can do this.”

It was like she didn’t give him a choice. Her child’s voice cut through the throbbing pain in his head and he found himself obeying, passing up the blaster and helmet first, then letting her take hold of his hands and haul him up. He didn’t have the strength to assist. Even with her help he lay panting and spent on the roof of the lift, staring up at the dark chasm of the elevator shaft in unthinking exhaustion.

Omega shook his shoulder gently but insistently. “We have to keep going,” she said, easing him up to a sitting position. Wordlessly, she offered the helmet.

He glanced at her, bruised face meeting her gaze with a silent nod of thanks before he took the headgear and pulled it back on, hiding the extent of his injuries.

Omega slung the blaster over her back, leaving him with the pistol and the knife. Without discussion they moved to the service ladder, Omega clambering on first before turning to check Crosshair was following her.

“Stay with me,” she instructed, and he nodded.

Crosshair settled into the leaden rhythm of the climb, holding his body close to the ladder. He didn’t trust the strength of his grip so each step he laboriously hooked an elbow round the rungs, clinging on through dogged determination, resting and panting for breath with every excruciating foot he climbed.

The hot-cold nausea was back, setting up a tremble of weakness in his muscles. He choked, gagging, his stomach convulsing once more as he retched fruitlessly inside the helmet. His bottom foot slipped and he fell, catching himself on his right elbow, left hand linked around right wrist as he dangled helplessly against the rungs.

“Crosshair, keep climbing!” pleaded Omega, wrapping her own limbs around the ladder securely as she watched him, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head, arm slipping slowly through his own grip.

“Crosshair!”

Omega lunged as he lost his grip. Snagged the grapple from the TK trooper utility belt he wore, hauling it up even as he dropped. She gasped and snatched her hands back before her fingers could be trapped, the hooked grapple head clanging tightly to the ladder rungs. The ratchet on the cable jerked and caught, Crosshair grunting in pain as he swung into the wall at the end of the line.

“Keep climbing,” he said, voice ragged and broken, waving at her to continue.

Instead she climbed down to him, positioning herself under him, pulling him back to the ladder and helping him hook his arms and legs back around the rungs.

“We can do this,” came her voice, small but determined. “I’ve got you, Crosshair.”

This time he climbed ahead of her, and every time he sagged he felt Omega’s body curl close and protective against him. Her hands tightened on the rungs as she kept him pinned against the ladder, her cheek pressed against the small of his back. Despite the tremor in her own tiring muscles she held on, letting him catch his breath before urging him to continue.

They were still climbing when the power was restored, the ladder rumbling beneath them as the lift began to rise towards them. Crosshair glanced down, then quickly pulled Omega against him and released the ladder, letting them drop to the roof of the lift as it rushed up to meet them.

Omega’s blonde hair was tousled by the rushing wind of their ascent, and Crosshair swayed on his feet as he held her tightly to his body. He turned his face down to her, studied the hardened look on her face through the blurred edges of his vision. His arm squeezed tight around her shoulders, drawing on her strength as he embraced her to replenish his own flagging reserves.

The lift slowed, then stopped.

“Hanger level,” said Omega softly.

Below them, through the open hatch on the roof of the lift, came the hiss of a door seal releasing.

Crosshair dropped to one knee, slamming the hatch closed.

“Through the service tunnel,” he ordered, shoving Omega ahead of him. “It’ll take us above the hanger.”

Muffled voices. “The lift is empty.”

“What? They must be there. We had confirmation they were in this elevator.”

“Stay on guard! They have to be somewhere.”

They crawled into the narrow vent, Omega fitting easily, Crosshair struggling to drag his armoured shoulders along the tight channel. Plastoid scraped against durasteel with a grating whine, echoing along the duct, and he knew the sound would give their position away.

“Keep going,” he hissed, stopping to release scraps of armour and shed them inside the tunnel. It wouldn’t be much use now anyway. Once they reached the hanger, the opposition they faced would be so overwhelming that the armour wouldn’t save him from blaster-fire coming his way.

Pauldrons and pack discarded, he carried on after Omega. Blood drips spattered the inside of his visor. He didn’t have time to stop and wipe them clean. Had to keep moving. Almost out.

Almost out.

So tired.

Almost out.

Omega had stopped over a grille, pointing down into the hanger below.

“There’s TK troopers everywhere,” she whispered, shuffling to give him space to look.

He barely glanced at the scene. Trying to focus on the distant squads of soldiers set his head aching. Between the lost half of his vision and the smears inside his visor, so much was obscured.

“There,” he slurred, “that line of fighters.”

Omega scanned the hanger and saw the row of fighter ships, cockpits canopies open and ready to welcome their pilots.

“Do you know how to fly them?” she asked.

“Yes. Tech made me memorise-”

“-the specs of every ship,” she finished, a small smile curling her lips. “He did the same with me.”

Crosshair’s chest constricted at the memory of his brother. Choked back the wave of grief that threatened to drown him.

“We go along the line, sending them off on autopilot,” he said. “They won’t know which one to follow.”

“Which ship are we taking?”

“We need something with hyperspace capability.” He pointed to a slightly larger shuttle. “That one.”

They resumed their crawl along the duct, trying to ignore the shouts of the search parties below. Omega stopped when they reached a vent almost directly above the row of ships, threading one slim hand through the grating and starting to unscrew it from the outside.

Crosshair readied the grapple, then folded his body into an awkward seat and stole what rest he could whilst Omega worked. Everything was starting to sound very distant. His mind floated on a cushion of adrenaline, comfortably numb as his consciousness divorced itself from the pain wracking his body.

Then Omega was shaking him awake.

���Ready?” she asked. He blinked groggily inside the helmet, wincing at the way his bruised eyelids pulled on the tormented right side.

“Yeah,” he muttered unconvincingly, shifting into position.

Omega released the final screw and caught the grate before it dropped, lifting it back into the duct and stowing it behind her. She spidered herself over the hole, letting Crosshair and the grapple cable lower down first, before shimmying onto the cable herself.

Crosshair dropped quickly to the floor, knowing speed was as essential as silence to their descent going unnoticed. He misjudged his footing at the bottom, rolling his ankle with a muttered curse. Quickly detaching the cable from the utility belt, he hobbled to the protecting shadow of the nearest ship and watched in desperate anxiety as Omega shinned her way down the cable.

The girl dropped to the floor and scurried to his side, peering up at the fighter. “I should be able to activate the autopilot on a timer so they all start moving at once,” she told him.

“I’ll keep the patrols off your back,” he replied, taking the blaster from her and passing her the pistol instead.

Omega hesitated, about to turn away, then straightened to face him. “Crosshair,” she said with an uncertain waver. “We’re leaving together.”

Crosshair shook his head. “If you get the chance to go, take it. Tell Hunter-”

“Tell him yourself!” she snapped, voice rising angrily. “I’m not going without you!”

He clamped a hand across her mouth to quiet her, hissing a warning. She struggled and he released her, crouching down so he was on eye level with her.

“Omega,” he said, tiredness in his voice stilling her protest more effectively than his hand had. He blinked inside his helmet, trying to clear his vision, trying to fix the image of her determined, trusting face in his mind.

She pressed into him, arms folding round his half-armoured body in an embrace that spoke all of the words they didn’t have time to say. Crosshair cupped one hand to the back of her head, trying for a soothing hum that broke as his voice quavered in exhaustion.

Then he let go, shoving her gently towards the ships.

“Get on with it,” he hissed, and turned away to avoid the hurt in her eyes. The recrimination at the sacrifice they both knew he planned.

Because it would be worth it. His life for hers. Returning her to his brothers was all that mattered.

His head swam as he steadied the blaster in both hands.

Escape, or die trying.

Help the girl escape.

Die trying.

*

The floor wobbled and gave way beneath his feet as he crossed the hanger. He fell with it, crashing to the spongy surface with a thud. Blaster in his right hand. Left splayed against the ground, testing it. Firm. No give. Still, his head strobed in and out, attention bowing and flexing as the world pulsed indistinctly around him.

He might be hallucinating. He suspected that now.

Dragged himself to his knees. Levered back to his feet.

Raised the blaster. Tried to focus.

Everything seemed so fuzzy, so distant. The HUD told him how far to his target, but it must be reading wrong. Surely he was closer than that. Was he? Leaden legs carried him forwards without conscious thought. The inside of his visor was smeared with his own blood, further restricting what remained of his sight.

The helmet was stifling. His own breath was hot and harsh, the noise of it filling his ears. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t see.

Needed to concentrate. Needed to be able to see.

Uncertain, trembling, he reached up and pulled the helmet off. Winced as it dragged past the tender swelling of his face.

Or maybe he cried out. That would explain why the TK troops suddenly turned to his direction.

“There he is!”

“All units, respond.”

“I don’t see the girl.”

“Don’t let him escape!”

The helmet fell to the floor with a clang. This was better, he thought dully. He could breathe easier. See better, without the distracting smears of red across his vision.

Heavy footsteps. Lots of them. Armoured figures surrounding him, weapons ready.

“On your knees, prisoner!”

Crosshair turned his ruined face, surveyed his captors. Dragged in a wet breath through his open mouth.

A blow landed on his back, staggering him. He dropped to one knee, a broken whimper escaping him.

“Drop your weapon!”

Shakingly, he raised his hands. The blaster swung loosely from his right.

Heard someone step towards him. Couldn’t see them in the blind spot left by his missing eye.

The roar of an engine awakening. A chorus of engines. Shouts of surprise, and the TK troopers turned.

“Siths hells…”

Crosshair didn’t look. Couldn’t afford to look. Had to take advantage of Omega activating the line of fighter ships.

Spun the blaster, bringing it to bear. Finger closed around the trigger.

Opened fire.

Howls of pain, blaster bolts burning through armour. He didn’t know how many he hit. Didn’t know where he hit. Arms, legs, it didn’t matter. Gone was the ability to pinpoint each enemy, one shot, one kill. This would have to do, a haphazard spray of fire and a prayer that they would escape.

A fresh burst of adrenaline drove him to his feet, subsuming the emptiness that clawed at his willpower as he began to move towards the shuttle. He was lightheaded, stumbling as he staggered forwards with the blaster swinging between targets. Didn’t care if his shots hit. Couldn’t have aimed if he tried. It was enough that his continued fire forced the troopers to dodge out of his way, clearing a path for his exhausted body to follow.

His vision blacked out and in again. He realised he was on the floor, slumped on his front. When did he get there? He didn’t remember falling. Aligned his arms underneath his body. Pushed up. Struggled to get his legs to work.

“Order confirmed. Prioritise the girl. Stop her escaping!”

Crosshair raised his head. Blinked away the blurriness. Watched one of the gunships lift from the ground, turning slowly.

They were going to shoot Omega down.

Kept turning. Cannons pointed towards him.

Oh.

It was Omega.

Just in time he let his weight drop, belly pressing to the floor once more. The gunship’s cannons spoke, shells rocketing over his head and detonating against a stack of crates, starting a chain reaction as stored ammo and munitions were consumed in a rapid inferno. A blast of heat seared his back, baking even through the protective armour, and he slowly began to crawl forwards on his stomach to escape the blaze.

The ramp of the gunship lowered, exposing the troop transport hold within.

What was she doing? She was supposed to flee. Take the ship and go. Why was the ship hovering in place, entry ramp open invitingly?

Not leaving without you.

Her words constricted the broken fragments of his heart, filling him with purpose.

Not leaving without you.

He staggered to his feet, lurching forwards. One step. Then another. Another. Towards the gunship. Towards the light that spilled from the hold.

Towards freedom.

Close enough now to see her frightened face through the canopy, barely tall enough to see over the controls.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Another step. Towards Omega.

Towards salvation.

Her expression crumpled in panic. Mouth opened in a warning shout that didn’t reach his ears.

His smile faded to confusion.

Pain erupted in the exposed joint of his shoulder, protecting pauldron discarded to fit through the vent.

A blade twisted. A howl as bone sprung free of the socket.

Whirling, staggering, Crosshair faced down the soldier in his blind spot, snuck up where he could no longer see.

The knife, dripping with his blood.

The soldier lunged again, knife digging into the seam of his collar bone, so close to main arteries.

Pupil dilated with shock. Crosshair’s hand flew to his neck, pressing against the gout of blood threatening to spurt as the soldier dragged the knife back. Gripping the hilt, he kept it embedded in the wound.

The soldier struggled against Crosshair’s grip. Crosshair dropped the blaster. Tugged the knife from his belt.

So tired. Too tired to find the will to fight.

Dislocated shoulder refusing to bring the knife to bear.

He imagined a hand closing over his. Hunter’s grip, strong and sure.

Closed his one eye. Darkness, so comforting.

Drove the knife home.

A high voice, calling his name. “Crosshair!”

Hands pulled at his armour, tugging him forwards. He opened his eyes.

Omega, hauling him towards the ramp of the gunship.

Crosshair’s mind whipped back to wakefulness, the urgency of their situation crashing over him. He finally forced his legs to work, stumbling forwards under Omega’s guidance until they were both in the ship and she released him, running back to the cockpit.

Crosshair’s hands grasped for a gun he didn’t have, and he turned dazedly back to the hanger. TK troopers were recovering, emerging from cover and launching volleys of blaster-fire towards their ship. He dived to the side, a blast bolt grazing his hip and drawing another guttural cry of pain from him. His left arm wrapped across his body and he gripped his right elbow, holding his loosely swinging arm against his chest as he staggered after Omega.

“This isn’t the ship I pointed out,” he gasped in frustration, collapsing heavily against the wall.

Omega’s hands flew over the console, activating the ignition sequence. “I know,” she said. “This one had more defensive capabilities.”

“It has cannons!” he hissed. “That’s offensive!”

“Wrecker always says that offence is the best form of defence,” countered Omega. She gripped the steering column and the ship lurched forwards, towards the strip of night sky showing beyond the under-hang of the mountain. Already, fighter jets swarmed outside, anticipating their escape.

The front of his chest was growing warm and damp. The knife still embedded in his shoulder was slowing the blood loss but couldn’t stem it completely, and the stab wound that had dislocated his right shoulder flowed freely. The whole right side of his body was a mess, so much pain clouding his senses that it was hard to distinguish one injury from the next.

His breathing was shallow, rapid, skin cold and clammy. He released his grip on his own arm to steady himself against Omega’s pilot chair instead, leaning heavily against it as he tried to focus on the rushing darkness outside the cockpit.

“Can you do this?” he asked, the words laboured and indistinct. Omega glanced at him in worry, then fixed her gaze straight ahead.

“Don’t worry, Crosshair. I’ll get us out of here.”

The ship lurched as she dived, evading the fighters which raked fire towards their fleeing ship. Crosshair all but fell into the co-pilot’s seat, answering the impact with an agonised growl before forcing the restraints across his protesting body to strap in safely. He was no good to Omega passed out on the floor of the cockpit.

Omega snuck another look at him, her brown eyes pointedly following the red stain cascading down the stolen armour. Rivulets of blood trickled down his right hand, hanging limply at his side, dripping to the floor with alarming alacrity.

She gunned the engines, the ship roaring as it picked up speed. She shot through the waiting cloud of enemy ships, then killed the thrusters and hauled hard on the controls. The ship swung back round in a tight reversal, and now that the fighters were clustered in front of them she opened fire, front lasers tearing into the delicate fighters and sending them, flaming, into death spirals.

Crosshair grunted, the sound little more than a breath. “The Tech turn,” he whispered, a smile ghosting across his lips.

Omega gave a shaky laugh. “He says it’s not called that,” she told him, angling the ship up and sending them shooting towards the edge of the atmosphere.

“He’s the only one of us who could pull it off.” Crosshair’s voice faded in and out, eyes closed. His right hand twitched, fingers convulsing, as though he would reach out to her. “I guess he taught you well.”

“Stay with me, Crosshair.” Omega’s voice cut through the tiredness of his mind, calling him back from the edge of consciousness. She sounded like she was crying. “We’re nearly there.”

That’s right. Once they made the hyperspace jump they’d be safe.

“There’ll be a blockade,” he managed. Opened his eye. Watched her punching co-ordinates into the hyperspace drive.

Dragged his left arm from his lap. Wrapped his hand feebly round the co-pilot’s controls.

“You can’t do that yet. We’ll burn up if you ignite the hyperdrive now.”

Omega grit her teeth, snuffling against tears.

“We’ll make the jump as soon as we break atmo.”

He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathing. It seemed to be harder than he remembered. His chest, lungs, throat, didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

He trusted Omega.

Trusted she would get them out.

A sudden, high-pitched whine as the hyperdrive engine came up to speed.

The ship was rocked by vibrations as blaster fire from the blockade raked the shields.

A blinding white-blue light pierced his closed eyelid, painting his world in a haze of dark and light.

They made the jump to hyperspace.

*

Crosshair surfaced slowly from unconsciousness, groping about with his other senses without opening his eyes. The right side of his face still throbbed but it was a numb pulse now, pain deadened beyond layers of exhaustion and sedatives. Around him the ship was quiet, computers and engines humming idly. There was a strong smell of disinfectant.

He tried to command his left arm, found it would move. Lifted his hand to his face, pressing it over his left eye before cracking it open, breathing a gasp of relief as he saw his own palm. His sight. He still had his sight.

“Crosshair!”

His name was spoken low and urgently, but with undeniable enthusiasm. He dropped his hand and blinked the rest of the world into focus, a blonde-haired face swimming into view.

“What happened?” he croaked, wincing against the dryness in his throat.

Omega pressed a canteen to his lips and he drank greedily, the water slaking a thirst he hadn’t realised was so intense. Then she was helping him sit up, hands gentle on his aching body.

He realised he was still in the co-pilot’s chair, semi-reclined. Outside the starscape was still, pinpoints of light against the black curtain of space. They weren’t moving.

“What happened?” he repeated, and this time his voice was a little stronger.

The girl immediately set to checking his wounds. He realised most of his upper right body was swathed in bandages, and the cold of space hit him as he realised she had cut his clothes away to treat the wounds. He was covered by a thin blanket which had slid down as he sat upright, and he grabbed it now and pulled it anxiously up to cover his body.

“You passed out after we made the hyperspace jump,” she told him quietly, not looking at him as she worked. She adjusted the tension on the sling that held his right arm, then smoothed down the edge of a bandage that was peeling away on his shoulder. “Hypovolemic shock,” she added, as though it made a difference. “You shouldn’t try to stand just yet.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, lying against the light-headedness he still felt.

She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Sure.”

He let her continue her checks, until she came to his face. Her slim hands tried to rest on his cheeks but he batted them away, turning his face from her. Turning so that she was in the blind spot of his bandaged right-hand side.

“Please let me check your wounds, Crosshair,” she said in a small voice. She dropped one hand to his chest, resting it over his hand which trembled, knotted inside the blanket.

“I don’t want you to,” he said softly, trying not to sound sullen. He kept his gaze averted, sorrow etching his face.

“We need to-”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

She stopped, mouth set in an unhappy line.

“Please, Omega,” he said, and the uncharacteristic plea softened her expression. She nodded, going to sit back in the pilot’s chair.

“So where are we?” he asked after a moment, drawing her from her thoughts.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, a soft waver of worry in her voice. “I’ve sent a signal to the rest of the Batch. I’m hoping they’ll pick it up, but without Tech-”

“Echo will get the signal,” Crosshair interrupted her without thinking. “He’s good at things like that.”

A meek, watery smile wobbled onto her face. “Yeah. They’ll find us.”

Now Crosshair tilted his face to her, ignoring the uncomfortable pressure of his bruises as he returned her smile. It even crinkled at the corners of his left eye, a glint of his old fire and flint flashing in his gaze.

“That was some good flying,” he told her honestly. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, a shy grin coming to her face.

“It was pretty cool,” she agreed, a shaky laugh shuddering up through her small body. Then, “Thanks for getting me out, Crosshair.”

“You got yourself out, kid,” he said, a low admission of approval.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He touched his hand to his bandaged arm, his neck, his cheek.

“I wouldn’t be here without you either, so consider us even.”

They lapsed into silence. Crosshair reclined back into the co-pilot’s chair once more, letting the padded seat take the weight of his aching body. His head span and he closed his eye against nausea, hoping Omega wouldn’t notice his pallor.

He kept his eye closed as he listened to her shuffle, approximated that she was imitating his position. His thoughts abstracted, snatches of memories surfacing and then flitting away as he continued to hover between sleep and wakefulness.

Eventually the com beeped.

A familiar voice.

“Havoc Five, come in.”

Crosshair started, flinching awake with a cry as the movement strained his injuries. Omega was scrambling for the com, leaning over the console with a delighted gasp.

“Hunter!”

“Omega!” The relief in Hunter’s voice was tangible as a cheer set up from the background.

“Omega! Where are you?” That was Wrecker’s voice, booming with enthusiasm. Omega laughed giddily, sitting up and tapping at the controls.

“I don’t know where we are. I’m sending our co-ordinates now,” she said, quickly relaying the data.

“Received,” came Echo’s confirmation. “I’ve got your position, Omega. Hang tight, and we’ll rendezvous with you.”

“Omega.” It was Hunter again. “You said ‘we’. Did a group of you escape?”

Omega glanced at Crosshair. He was sitting up now, shaking his head slowly.

She reached out and covered the com. “They have to know,” she whispered imploringly.

Crosshair looked away. “I haven’t seen Hunter since-”

“I know.” She reached out and laid a hand gently over his. Then she turned to the com again.

“Crosshair is with me.”

“CROSSHAIR?” His name was echoed in triplicate.

“He’s injured, so he can’t talk right now,” she said quickly, saving him from the demands of conversation. “Hurry,” she added. “Please hurry.”

“We’re on our way, Omega,” said Hunter, and the com blinked off.

Crosshair sagged back, staring unseeingly out the window. The young girl stayed at the controls a moment more, before hopping down and coming over to his chair.

Before he could protest Omega had climbed up into his lap, tucking her head under his jaw, one small hand stroking the back of his neck soothingly.

He couldn’t summon the energy to fight her.

Found he didn’t want to.

“They’re going to be pleased to see you, Crosshair,” she whispered into his chest, fingers tracing repetitive lines on his skin. “Just like I was.”

Despite the way his right side throbbed, he relaxed into the comfort of her weight on his left. He brought his uninjured arm up and closed it round her, pulling her tight against him as he rested his left cheek on her soft hair.

No, he didn’t want to see his brothers. No, he didn’t want her to check his wounds, face the reality of his loss.

But laying here like this, listening to her soft breathing, he found his doubts fading.

It didn’t seem so bad when he thought of it as a trade-off.

A price paid.

His eye. Her freedom.

His little sister.

Not leaving here without you.

It would take time for his injuries to heal. But she had already mended something in him that had been broken.

He would go through it a thousand times over if it kept her free.

He closed his eye, trying not to remember the darkness at the side of his vision.

A price paid.

A fair price.

This time, as he drifted just above the threshold of sleep, he was at peace.

Read the Epilogue Here