#and the bonds that can only be forged in busy medbays

[agios-rio]

Bloodthirst by J.M. Dillard has the absolut best McCoy&Chapel dynamic I've read so far. :)

[ace-oreos]

Way of the Hunter Ch. 17

Hopefully you know by now, but the previous chapter is over in @deltaturtle26‘s territory. :D 

Unfortunately I do have to turn my laptop in this Tuesday for most of July, but we’re hoping to continue regular updates! :) Thanks for reading!  

The days at the covert stretched into weeks. Hunter spent his mornings helping with menial tasks if anyone was in need of assistance, enjoying the sense of belonging that had finally settled over him. The other warriors approached him sometimes, inviting him to take part in their sparring sessions. He was happy to join in; more often than not he learned new techniques from watching the senior warriors train. In exchange, he would demonstrate his skill with a blade. More often than not, this was followed by a friendly challenge from one of the others. He obliged most days - it reinforced the skills he already possessed and allowed him to test out new methods.

Afternoons were spent in Tracinya’s company. He offered his services in the medbay early on, but she chased him away affectionately, claiming there were far better uses for his talents. In the end, Hunter was forced to admit that she was right: his lack of medical knowledge meant his presence would be a hindrance more than anything. Still, Tracinya allowed him to sit and watch. This was often accompanied by Uruk’s gentle teasing; more than once Hunter found himself dark with embarrassment, unable to properly reply. 

In the evening, however, he and Tracinya were able to escape Uruk’s good-natured heckling. Sometimes they retreated to a more isolated corner in order to avoid disrupting other members of the clan going about their business, but they frequently wandered outside the covert as well. Hunter greatly enjoyed these excursions, having never been afforded the chance to thoroughly explore an unfamiliar environment; Tracinya relayed fascinating insights about Mandalore and its surrounding system. Much of her education in such matters was due to Uruk’s teaching. The veteran medic had seen to it that Hunter was similarly informed, but Tracinya seemed to have retained some of the more obscure details. 

Every moment Hunter spent in Tracinya’s company was a revelation in its own way. Romantic relationships were a foreign concept to him, but she was patient and good-humored through it all. In the end, Hunter couldn’t remember a happier time. The last of his doubts about finding acceptance within the clan finally faded, helped in no small part by Tracinya’s reassurances. 

Hunter held tight to that steadfast joy; it had been such an infrequent experience prior to his arrival that he was loath to let it pass without fully appreciating the wonder of it all. And although he was utterly content during the day, at night he found himself remembering the job the client had mentioned. Eventually, he knew, his own curiosity and desire to support the clan would draw him away from the covert. 

He made no mention of it to Tracinya. For one thing, he knew voicing his thoughts would only fuel his interest. For another, he sensed that Tracinya was already aware that their time together at the covert could not last indefinitely as long as his inquisitiveness remained unsatisfied. And after that…

After that, I’m coming home. 

***

Things had happened so quickly after their departure from Dantooine that Crosshair hadn’t been able to take a full measure of the galaxy in its new state of disorder, but their flight from Nar Shaddaa and ensuing time in transit afforded him ample time to think. 

He hadn’t expected anything different from Nar Shaddaa; it was infamous throughout the galaxy for its unbounded lawlessness. None of them had harbored much hope of finding allies there. Anyone with ties to the Empire was a threat on principle - deception ran rampant in the Imperial Army, and it would be nothing short of foolish to assume that someone who had once answered to the Emperor could ever truly be free of Imperial influence. 

 Crosshair could only trust himself and his brothers. 

That, at least, had remained consistent for the better part of the past ten years, he reflected, sardonic. However much the regs spouted off about camaraderie and the unshakable bond that was forged between men caught in an unjust war, their courtesies fell far short of reaching Crosshair and his squad. In the end, there had been little choice but to rely solely on one another. 

Shortly after their escape from Nar Shaddaa, Tech asserted that staying within one system for more than a few days was too great a risk to be considered an option. Crosshair rather thought it was too late to get caught up in worrying about such things, but Tech’s tone hadn’t invited argument. Wrecker, for his part, had merely shrugged and nodded. As always, he deferred to Tech’s logic. Crosshair chose not to point out that they would eventually need to replenish their supplies. 

Several weeks spent roaming from one sector to another - and, in some cases, making a hasty departure when they picked up signals from potentially hostile ships - depleted their resources. Crosshair knew as well as his brothers that they were as susceptible to the need for fuel and rations as the rest of the galaxy. The dwindling fuel levels went unspoken, but Tech’s face darkened with worry as time went on. 

 Not keen for the Empire to catch them drifting helplessly between planets, Crosshair finally approached Tech as he and Wrecker navigated their way through a hyperspace route frequented by smugglers and pirates. So far no one had taken undue interest in the Marauder, and all of them strongly preferred to keep it that way. 

“Once we’re out of this stretch, we should be okay,” Tech said, face creased in concentration. “I don’t think pirates would put the effort into following us out of this system. We don’t have anything worth their while.”

“We don’t,” Crosshair agreed, “but if we get stuck here nothing can stop them from finding that out for themselves.”

“And the Empire won’t be far behind,” Wrecker added, uncharacteristically serious.

Tech’s gaze remained fixed on his holo map as he studied connecting trade routes. “The Empire will be nearby no matter where we go.”

“Then what does it matter?” Crosshair pressed. “We need the supplies.”

He saw Tech bite his lip, uneasy at the thought of landing on a planet that could, for all they knew, be under Imperial occupation. “I don’t know…”

That was a rare admission, but Crosshair didn’t rib him for it. “Once we run out of fuel, there’s nothing we can do,” he said bluntly. “If - when - the Empire finds us, we won’t be able to escape. All of this would be pointless.”

Experience had taught him that Tech’s subsequent silence indicated that his brother was weighing their options, and while it was hardly the time to be smug, Crosshair knew his line of reasoning would prevail. And it was entirely fair that Tech was apprehensive; all of them knew only one fate awaited deserters and traitors. 

Crosshair promptly put it out of his mind. We’ve made it this far.

“This route continues into the next system,” Wrecker said coaxingly. “A lot of freighter pilots pass through there. There must be somewhere we can resupply.”

“But most space stations have some level of Imperial security,” Tech objected. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Crosshair said, fighting rising impatience. 

A tense silence fell over them. This was where Hunter would intervene, settle the dispute with honor to both sides. Crosshair let himself acknowledge the sting of his brother’s glaring absence, then gathered his thoughts - since when have I been the mediator? - and tried to emulate Hunter’s unflappable manner. 

“We run the risk of getting caught no matter what we do,” he said quietly. “I don’t like it any better than you, but we’re doing this for us, Tech. Not the Empire, not the Jedi - each other. That counts for something.”

Tech let out a long sigh. “It does. I know. I just… if we get cornered, there won’t be any second chances. I don’t know what I’d do if... “ 

Wrecker leaned over and squeezed Tech’s shoulders comfortingly. Crosshair was not as inclined to such displays of affection, but he managed to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and said, “We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

Tech nodded. Crosshair could see some of the old confidence returning to his eyes. Wrecker, who had never been one for uncertainty, clapped Tech on the shoulder, nearly sending him careening from his seat.

Tech’s renewed determination was reassuring, but Crosshair couldn’t help thinking that the certainty he himself had displayed was at odds with his misgivings. He’d been careful to keep them to himself, but he couldn’t shake his growing disquiet, and while Crosshair was far from a superstitious man, he knew with disheartening conviction that something was going to go badly wrong.

***

“Have you thought about what will happen if you succeed?” Tracinya asked, watching Hunter as he tested his helmet’s sensors one last time. 

Distracted, he didn’t immediately reply. Once he was satisfied that everything was in working order, he turned his attention to Tracinya. “Me’ven?”

“What’s going to happen if you do turn the deserters over to the Empire,” she said patiently. “What if they put two and two together?” 

“Need to know,” Hunter said staunchly, dispelling his own doubts as he spoke. “Clients never care much about personal history.”

He resumed running a practiced eye over his beskar’gam. He was diligent about maintaining his armor’s condition; he knew only too well that neglected equipment was bound to fail at the worst moment. Aside from a scattering of scratches and scraped paint, everything was in good shape. He looked up when Tracinya spoke again. 

“I don’t know, Hunter,” she said hesitantly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Hunter straightened and took her hands in his. “It’ll be fine, cyar’ika.” When she didn’t respond, he put his arms around her and drew her closer. “If the Empire investigated every bounty hunter they hired, they’d have to arrest most of them. As long as I get the job done, they won’t care one way or another.”

He felt her take a deep breath. “I trust you, cyar’ika. Just… go careful. I won’t be there to help you if you get your head blown off.”

“I think decapitation would be an issue for anyone,” Hunter said thoughtfully. 

“You always say the most romantic things,” Tracinya retorted. She gently disentangled herself from his arms, then leaned forward and pressed her helmet against his. “Don’t be gone too long.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised.