#fic: freefall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acourtofsnakes · 8 months ago

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The Aftermath - Freefall, Chapter 6 || The Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader

Summary: You thought things couldn't get worse after the Order, but as your friends slowly didappear one by one, you find yourself teaming up with a radical, until your boys find you. But are you safe at home?

Warnings: 18+, swearing, injuries, descriptions of violence, canon fighting, fear, loss, death, blood, canon violence and weapons, nicknamed reader (Ghost), Order 66

A/N: We are back guuuuuys!!! As usual, this section of the series is still 'in the past', following on directly from the previous chapter! We'll back to the present very soon, with all the storylines linking back up!

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You wished you hadn’t come here.

But you wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Not when Padmé needed you, all of you. Yet perhaps the one she needed most was the only one to break her out of this sickness.

But he would never be reached now, not after what happened. Not after Mustafar.

You couldn’t even key into the Force for answers, or peace, because all you could feel was death and destruction and chaos.

It grated on your nerves, ran claws down your spine and hissed in your ears, making you hypersensitive to every single noise, every smell, every stitch of clothing touching your skin.

The more you thought about it, the more aware you became, until your breathing became uneven and sharp and you couldn’t escape the awareness of it slipping into your consciousness.

Oh, what you wouldn’t give for those long fuzzy creatures on Myrkr, the adorable unique tree-dwellers called Ysalimir. They were able to create a sort of bubble around them, in which the connection to the Force was cut off to the point not even a Jedi could access it.

Sometimes it did feel like a limb being cut off when you couldn’t get to the Force, but in times like this, where everything was too close, too loud, too there… Maker, you’d dive headfirst into a group of them right now.

A ragged breath escaped your lips and you resisted the urge to plunge one of your lightsabers through the head of the nurse who breathed just a little too loudly in your direction. Your hands curled into fists, nails biting sharply into your palms but even that didn’t stop the feeling of bugs crawling over your skin, bands wrapping around your chest -

Warm, slightly calloused fingers gently wriggled their way into your hand, carefully pushing under your nails until they held onto your hand, slowly enough you could push them away if you didn’t want it.

But you did.

A little sob escaped your chest as you stayed watching Padmé through the glass, and you curled your fingers back tightly around Obi-Wan’s hand, clinging to him, an anchor. You felt a caress of the force, his own presence soothing all the rough edges of your own and helping you settle a little, even though his own signature was in complete and utter agony over what he’d had to do to his brother.

So you gripped his hand tighter, pressing your arm into his, relaying that comfort even as tears ran down your cheeks, “She has to get better, Obi… She has to.” Yet even as you said it, you knew that even if she did, she would never recover from the pain of losing Anakin. She’d never stop hoping and looking for the good in him, and it would torture her until… Until the end.

You knew this with a startling clarity because you were exactly the same. If it were any of the boys, you would die before you gave up. Even now, you believed that there had to be some hope for Anakin, that he was still in there.

Maybe if Padmé recovered, maye they would both survive…

“I know, I know… But I fear that the medical droid was right. She’s simply given up. She…” Obi-Wan shuddered softly, guilt flaring high in his signature, stinging the air around you. “Perhaps if I had listened, if I hadn't acted as a member of the Council, as a master, but as a brother, none of this would be happening as it had.” Obi-Wan’s hair fell over his forehead, his entire posture slumping more and more with each word, his composure in as many tatters as the Force itself. “Such destruction and devastation.” He breathed those last words, bowing his head, as if he could retreat into himself - or as if he were waiting for the blow of retribution.

Seeing his pain, feeling how broken he was made it hit home that all of this was real. That it wasn’t some terrible dream.

With every minute that passed, you were losing more and more of your loved ones.

You drew in a shuddering breath, turning away from the sight before you to instead look at Obi-Wan, “Enough.” You chided him gently, but firmly, “This is not your fault, Master Kenobi. None of this is. This… This destruction was at the hand of the Emperor, not you. Do not allow him to win further by shouldering guilt.” You squeezed his hand again, knowing the words wouldn't soothe him - they wouldn’t soothe yourself if the situation was reversed - but he needed to hear them.

Obi-Wan sighed, lifting his head slowly, as if it carried the weight of the galaxy. His eyes, so flat and lost, tracked over your face, reading the same agony and guilt, the same desolate emptiness of knowing you two could very well be the last Jedi left in the galaxy, “I forget how young you are sometimes when you say such wise things like that.” The faintest of smiles touched his lips fleetingly, “You’ve always had a determination I admired, a stubbornness that could rival An - his.” His face twisted in pain momentarily, but he recovered himself a moment later, but you saw the momentous effort it took.

“You never allowed what others thought to shape you… I know how hard it’s been to not let their words sink in, but you’ve always proved yourself to be even more than they thought, that you were your own person and not what they believed you to be.” He hummed faintly, thoughtfully, “Another balance between two sides.”

Something tingled at the back of your mind, an awareness that Wrecker always said was your own version of ‘Hunter-senses’. Whatever it was that Obi-Wan was getting at… It meant something.

You were certain you’d heard something like this, the talk of someone who was both light and dark and could bring balance, back when you were younger and were sneaking around the Temple rather than being told off for not being able to focus.

Before you could ask however, the monitors and holograms surrounded Padmé began to wail and beep frantically, flashing up with symbols you didn’t understand - but the sinking feeling in your belly did.

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up and he stepped forward, “What’s happening?!” He made to move further, but you were all being ushered out by the medical droids, hastened from the room as voices clamoured over one another and the beeping became louder and more persistent.

The door swiped shut behind you, Obi and Bail, the hallway jarring in its stillness compared to the frantic bustle behind it.

And all you could do was wait.

You felt it, maybe hours or even just minutes later.

Everything fell still, silent. Bail was called in, and then Obi-Wan, into the room that suddenly felt like a tomb, the spectre of Death hanging over the doorway.

It was clinging to you, dragging skeletal claws over your bones, the lingering touch of all those Clones, the aching spaces of all the lost Jedi, your best friend shrouded in darkness - and now Padmé.

You barely registered the hallway floor beneath you, the walls blurring past, faceless people scolding you for running, a voice that could have been Obi-Wan or Bail calling for you - none of it mattered.

You only stumbled to a stop inside an empty room when an echo of agony ripped through your chest, so raw and potent it felt like your own heart was being carved out.

The Force was screaming in response, the Light in shreds already, but that thread of the Dark that always wound through your soul… That’s where you felt it strongest.

Rage, guilt, loneliness, agony - He’d felt it too.

He knew she was gone.

And there would be no chance of redemption for him now. The one thing that could have helped, the person that was almost guaranteed to get through to him somehow was gone.

It was all gone.

Your friends were most likely dead.

Ahsoka… Had Rex and the 501st turned on her? Had she been forced to mow down the legion which was more family than mere soldier?

Your boys… Had they survived?

You couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if they hadn’t.

So despite the crippling grief wracking your body, you knew you had to keep going. Keep doing… Something. Because if you didn’t… Well.

It was likely you never would.

“Hey, you got that crate of supplies for me?” A man who’s name you still hadn’t remembered motioned to the box in your arms, reaching out for it when you were close enough.

You nodded, letting him take it from you, “It’s one of the last ones, we’ll need to do another run soon, we’re low on med supplies and we still have a few children who are sick.”

In all fairness, the kids would be fine. You’d been healing them with the Force when noone else was around and they were asleep, even if tapping into it did still hurt… And that voice whispered to you whenever you did.

The man nodded, already crouched down to rifle through the contents, “Let Saw know, he was talking about organising another one soon.”

That would be Saw Gerrera.

Your current, if only temporary.. Partner? Company? Whatever it was.

Since Padmé, and the Order, you’d drifted, unable to stay still for too long lest the thoughts and memories came crashing back down and reminding you of what you’d lost.

You’d spent days in a stupor, travelling under darkness with the hood of your cloak pulled down low over your head, barely noting faces and places and you sought passage to whatever planet you could.

The Empire was crawling around everywhere, but you donned the abilities of your nicknames, able to slink through shadows and slip past scrutinising eyes.

You stayed low like Hunter had asked, feeling the weight of your silent comms grow heavier and heavier with each day that passed and it remained silent.

Day by day, the loneliness and hopelessness slithering closer until you couldn’t stand it any longer and formulated a plan.

To help.

Whatever, wherever, you were going to help people rebuild after what had happened and try and do something good.

Something to keep the balance Obi-Wan had mentioned.

Because with each of those silent days, the shadows slipping under your skin seemed to grow stronger, the dance of lightning shimmering across your knuckles in the dead of night when the nightmares both old and new found you.

One foot on either side. A balance.

You might still have a foot in shadow and a foot in light, but it felt as though the galaxy had shifted on its axis and your weight had begun to lean to one side over the other.

So when dreams of your boys being turned into mindless monsters, of Rex killing Ahsoka, punctuated by Anakn’s screams, chased you from sleep, you moved.

Way back when the worst thing was the Separatists, you’d gone with Anakina and the others to Onderon, helping Saw Gerrera and his band of activist free the planet from the clutches of the Separatists.

You knew he was still there, that instinct telling you that was the place you needed to be to help.

So you followed.

And it was on the way here that your comm had beeped to life, pinging through an encoded message in the frequency and code worked out between yourself and the boys should you ever need to communicate privately.

“Ghost, we’re okay. Whatever happened, whatever that was, it didn’t affect us. We don’t know what it is but we’re safe. Are you? Tech registered a ship leaving the planet after that transmission but we didn’t know if you were on it. Let us know where you are and we’ll come for you.”

The earth-shattering relief that they were okay had brought to your knees, the fact that something had stayed good, that you hadn’t lost everyone. They were okay. They were alive. And they weren’t slaves to whatever Sidious had done to them.

They were alive and they wanted to come for you.

And yet… Something held you back from responding.

Something… vicious. That growing voice.

You were a walking target, no longer a Jedi Commander, best friends to General’s Skywalker and Kenobi, to Commander Tano and Captain Rex.

In this new, upside down world… You were the enemy.

The chatter you had heard hid this ‘Order 66’, instead labelling the massacre as a Jedi rebellion, claiming the people sworn to be the peacekeepers of the galaxy had handed in their honour for cold-blooded murder and the clones had been forced to fight back and do their job of protecting the galaxy from threats.

And that was that.

Temples were torn down, burned, raided. Those that remained sealed themself up, turning into relics of the past when they should be beacons for the future.

Jedi who had slipped through the cracks in the carnage lined wanted boards and lit up the pucks of bounty hunters, both old and young.

Even the children, those who had just discovered the gift that should be a blessing, now had a noose around their neck and a target on their back.

How could you bring the boys into that crossfire?

If they weren’t murdered alongside you, they;d be tried and executed as traitors for helping you and working alongside you.

As much as every cell in your body craved to be with them, to be back by their side, protecting them as fiercely as they would protect you.. You just couldn’t sentence them to death.

Or bring about the realisation that they weren’t under the same control as their brothers.

Not to mention the gradually reducing control you seemed to be experiencing over this ‘balance’.

There was too much risk.

So you ignored the transmission.

And the next one.

And the one after that.

//”We haven’t heard from you yet, so we’re assuming it’s not safe for you to respond. That’s the only reason I’m believing. We’ll find you and we’ll get you safe.”//

//”Please, Ghost. Please just give us something. Anything. Just a sign to let us know you’re still out there.”//

//”Something is wrong here. The regs are even more off than usual, there’s been a shift-up in command and training has increased. Crosshair is even more on edge than usual, and we seem to have acquired a friend.; A young girl, Omega. You’d like her, she’s stubborn like you and keeps us on our toes.”//

//”We miss you, Ghost. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”//

//”Please.”//

Everyday had brought a new transmission, the latest being this morning.

You sighed as you keyed it off, kicking a rock like it was the cause of all your problems and booting it across the dusty ground would ease the longing in your heart.

“You’re going to have to answer whatever you’re avoiding at some point, you know. You can’t run forever, trust me.” The husky voice of Saw Gerrera appeared from your left as you rounded a stack of crates, not really paying attention to where you were going.

You shoved the comms back into your cloak pocket, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow and what you hoped was a neutral expression, “I’m well aware of that, Gerrera. I don’t need to be reminded.” The words came out with more bite than you’d originally intended but… Whatever Better to be on the offensive lately.

Saw’s eyebrows raised a little and he held his hands up in surrender, “Easy, I wasn’t starting a fight, just offering advice.” He cocked his head, observing you with a stare that was far too knowing and intense, making your skin prickle.

You scowled at him, resisting the urge to cross your arms, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You were grateful that he was allowing you to stay here and help, but there was something about him that was too intense, too… extremist. His reasons were there but his actions… They rubbed you up the wrong way.

But where else did you have to go?

He ran a thumb along his jaw, eyebrows lowered in thought, “I know what you’re doing. Why you’re acting like this.” He didn’t give you a chance to argue, merely continuing in a level, even voice, “But you can’t keep biting at people just to push them away. You need your friends, the ones loyal to you. Especially now. They can help you, Ghost. They can keep you safe. We’re thankful for you here, but -”

“In case you haven’t been around lately, all of my friends are dead.” You spat the words at him, defensive anger immediately crackling to life, tingling in your veins and you tried to will it back into slumber.

Saw rolled his eyes, planting his hands on his hips, “Clearly not all of them, or are you receiving coded transmissions from beyond the Force now?” He didn’t even bother to keep his voice down, reckless fool.

You growled, stepping closer and you pointed warningly at him, “You can’t be saying things like that, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your cold gaze flicked between his own eyes, “Have you been spying on me, Gerrera?” Anyone who knew you would immediately recognise the danger in the softness of your voice, something you and Crosshair had both been famed for.

The softer the voice, the faster you better turn tail and run.

The man before you didn’t back down, merely straightened his posture, muscles coiling in case you finally decided to snap. “It’s my job to keep these people safe, Ghost. No matter who they are, or who they were.” Clearly referring to you being a Commander, “Like I said. We’re thankful for your help, but if these friends of yours are going to come looking for you, I can’t risk my people.”

A scoff escaped your throat despite your emotion, “Hang on, a moment ago you were giving me a pep talk about being with people who’ll keep me safe, and now you’re worried I’m going to hurt your people? Which is it, Saw? You want me gone for my own good, or gone because you don’t trust me?”

So much for controlling your anger.

Saw huffed, his chest rising and falling with the movement, “Look, I don’t want a fight. I just need to know I’m not going to have any trouble here. We’ve built too much and we’ve prepared too much to risk losing it now. The fight is nowhere near over, it’s even more important than it was when we fought the Separatists. This galaxy deserves peace, don’t you think? Can’t you of all people see that?” He stepped closer, his voice softening to the tone you knew he used on people to coax them to his side, “Isn't that what you were trained for? To allow people to live in peace and safety?”

Too far.

You squared up to him, head tilted back to stare him down, “Let’s get one thing straight. I may have helped you all those years ago, and I might be thankful to you for helping me in return now; But do not think that gives you any right to comment on my past. Or my future. Or anything about me, actually.” You didn’t even blink, didn’t even care that his people were looking over, some of them pushing the younger ones behind them, “And for that matter, stop trying to encourage me to join you. I appreciate what you’re doing, and I’ll help here in camp but I’m not joining you. I’m not joining anyone.”

Saw was about to open his mouth, but awareness danced down your spine, signalling someone’s approach.

Seconds later, you heard footsteps. Six pairs of footsteps. One set unfamiliar, but the other five…

“Not even us?”

Hunter watched as your head snapped round to face him, fast enough he would have feared for your spine had he not known you.

He watched the emotion play across your face, shock, guilt, surprise, adoration. Your eyes narrowed, tracking carefully over each of his and his brother’s faces, and he could tell from the slightly unfocused look that you had tuned into the Force… Perhaps to see if that Order had affected them too… But then, complete and utter relief. It was so potent on your face, he nearly ran to you right then, had he not suddenly had at least ten blasters trained on him. Which in itself was nothing, they’d faced far worse odds, but he wasn’t here for a fight.

“Clones?” Saw spat the word, yanking his own blaster free and he levelled it square at your face, “Your friends are clones? The Empire?!” His face was one of defensive fury, before the mask slipped over and he was impassive and watchful.

Hunter’s fingers twitched on instinct, but you merely rolled your eyes, lifting a hand and knocking his blaster from your face “They don’t work for the Empire, Gerrera. And neither do I, despite what your prejudices are telling you.”

The man you’d passed the crate to before scoffed, moving closer to the Batch, safety clicking off, “So what are they doing here then? You told us you were untraceable.” He narrowed suspecting eyes at you before looking back at the boys, particularly Crosshair, as if recognising him as the most lethal.

And with that expression on his face, he certainly looked it.

Tech pushed between Hunter and Wrecker, one finger nudging his glasses up, “Actually, Ghost was correct. She was virtually untraceable. However, that would be by anyone else’s skill set. I, on the other hand, have been genetically engineered to have skills far beyond that which the average person has therefore in this case, Ghost was -”

“Tech! I think they get it, brother.” Hunter raised a hand, patting Tech affectionately on the shoulder before looking at Saw, his eyes straying to you now and then, unable to stop looking, checking you were okay.

You were alive.

You were alive and whole before him… At least in the physical sense. He could tell with one look, and by the way you kept avoiding his direct gaze that the events that had happened over the last week or so had left a wicked bruise, one that would take a while to heal.

“We aren’t here to cause any trouble, Gerrera. We… We were sent here, yes. But under false orders. What we were told and what we’ve seen… You’re not a threat. At least not the one the Empire made you out to be.” He looked across at the children hidden behind adults, “You’re not causing trouble, you’re just trying to live.”

Like they were.

Crosshair scoffed from behind him, his gun clicking as he reflexively loosened and tightened his grip on it. The distaste and displeasure was rolling off of him in waves, jaw set and honey eyes almost black in the low pitch of the camp.

Hunter knew he was in for a sniping match later, especially after Crosshair’s insistence before coming down here.

“Make the order, Hunter. I have a clear shot.”

“Crosshair, there are children there. And they’re just… living.”

“We have orders. We were told to eliminate them, and that is what we are here to do. Tell me to take the shot, now.”

“Just wait, Crosshair.”

“Hunter.”

That had been when the hair on Hunter’s neck stood up, his senses perking their head, as if sensing a storm… And then there you were. Helping Saw’s men, your armour hidden beneath that billowing cloak.

You were alive.

Saw barely moved, his eyes tracking across everyone, noting the fact your hands were ont he hilts of your twin blades, even if your posture seemed relaxed, “Okay, okay. Here’s what’s going to happen.” He nodded slightly to his men, who lowered their blasters after a seconds hesitation, “You said you were sent here to stop us, but you changed your mind?”

Hunter nodded, brows still low and body still tense as he waited to see where this went, “Yes. Like I said, you’re just trying to live.” He didn’t remove his fingers from his own blade, not quite yet.

Not whilst you were still staring down the muzzle of Saw’s blaster.

Saw nodded again, eyes flicking to you then back to Hunter and the other boys, “You seem smart, Sergeant. You know the corruption of the Empire, and the lies they tell you.” His tone shifted, blaster lowering and shoulders pushing back, “we could use a squad like yours in the fight ahead. The fight for what is right. For freedom.” He lifted his chin again and his men backed off, beginning to load up the last few supplies, “We’re heading out. Do whatever you feel is right, but I hope you make the correct decision for yourself and the future of the galaxy.” With those final words, he levelled a glance at you, making you bristle and your eyes harden but you just rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

No one said a word as Saw’s men began to move, but Crosshair stepped forward, his hold still tight on his rifle, “Are we just going to let them walk away? Hunter, you heard Tarkin. They’re insurgents. They’re a danger. They need to be eliminated.” His eyes were fixed on the retreating group, so focused that it had you stepping forward into his line of sight.

“Leave it, Cross. I agree that they’re.. Radical and I don’t agree with their methods but Hunter is right. They’re just trying to live and make their way in all this mess. The Empire has bigger problems, surely.” Your jaw tensed at that remark, the fact its well known that the Empire were hunting down any escaped Jedi or Jedi sympathisers.

Crosshair’s eyes flashed when you moved in front of him, when you agreed with Hunter. Something predatory crossing his face, like he still hadn’t forgotten that argument outside 79’s before all this, “Well, if Hunter says so, it must be true.” He spat out his toothpick and began to stalk back to the ship, agitation rolling of him in waves so strong you didn’t even need the Force to feel it.

You sighed as you watched him, unfolding your arms, “He’s really not happy with me, is he. Still.”

Tech looked over at you, lifting his visor up to the top of his helmet, “Crosshair has always had a starker sense of right and wrong, he doesn’t see the in between. That part of our training always stuck with him the most, I believe.”

Wrecker shrugged, cracking his neck, “He just needs to shoot something, that always cheers him up.” He laughed and then trailed after Crosshair, helmet perched on his head.

Tech shook his head at his brothers, looking over his shoulder again at you, something more tender touching his eyes, “It’s good to see you okay, Ghost. We’re glad to have you back.” His hand reached out to touch your shoulder for a second before he followed Wrecker.

A smile graced your lips as you watched him go, his words cementing the fact that you were back at home with your boys…

But then it faded, that voice whispering that you were still a target. What if you brought the Empire down on the boys heads?

They were heading right back to them after failing to complete a mission… That was already enough to put them in the crossfire surely.

Hunter’s broad form filled your vision, his finger touching your chin to bring your gaze up to his own, “I know that look. And I know what you’re thinking.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes focused on yours, unrelenting, “I know you didn’t answer our comms because you were afraid you’d bring danger to us.”

You should have remembered that he’d always see straight through you, “I am going to bring danger to you, Hunter. I can’t linger at the sidelines waiting for you like I used to. They know me at Kamino. They know I was a Commander. If they even catch wind that you’re seen with someone who fits my description…” You dragged your eyes to the side, to a spot over his shoulder.

It broke Hunter’s heart, seeing you so unsure, doubting yourself like you used to when the words fo the Council would dig their claws too deep in you. What you’d been through since the Order was called… It had shaken something loose in you. “Ghost, you’re one of us. You will always be one of us. No matter whether you have a bounty on your head or not, you are part of this squad and we will all protect you.” He ducked his head to the side to catch your gaze again, “I will protect you.”

He was right, of course.

You always fit into the squad of ‘defective’ clones more than you had anyone at the Temple, save for Anakin and Ahsoka of course. There was a reason Rex always joked that you were the missing member of Clone Force 99.

Despite the turmoil in your chest, you couldn’t stop the smile that lifted your lips as you looked between Hunter’s eyes, “i think you’ll recall it’s usually me protecting you, no?”

Hunter laughed softly, eyes crinkling at the edges and he shook his head, “Only because you love to come in with a blaze of glory that rivals Anakin’s.”

You couldn’t help the reflexive flinch at his name, the pain searing through you with an echo of that cry again, but you forced that smile to stay on your lips, still not wanting to face it, “You love my blazes of glory, don’t even try to deny it, Sergeant.”

Hunter didn’t miss the agony in your expression, not for one second but he allowed you the grace of waiting until you were ready, instead touching a hand to his chest, “:I would never deny you, Commander.” He swept a hand toward the way the rest of the boys went, “After you, my most dramatic partner.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, pushing his chest gently as you moved past him, “Come on, you big idiot.”

Yeah.. It was good to be back together.

~~~~~

Everything felt wrong.

His senses were on high alert, the way they were on a mission, when he was tracking an enemy through the sight of his rifle.

Crosshair rolled his shoulders and his neck, trying to focus on the grassy terrain beneath his feet, but the words in his head pulsed with every beat of his heart,

Complete the mission. Complete the mission. Complete the mission.

Laughter behind him had his hands twitching, a sound that once brought him a sense of freedom and lightness.. It felt all twisted now. Like black smoke filtering across a clear sky.

That voice in his head hissed at the sound, the sweet cadence of it.

His head flicked to the side, watching as you walked along with Hunter and Echo, joking about something or other.

When he saw you standing there, with Saw, his head was a mess.

An insatiable itch in his hands as he held his rifle, battling against relief that you were okay.

And yet, the second you had agreed with Hunter, that battle tipped to one side.

He couldn’t imagine what you had witnessed since they last saw you, but whatever it was left that shadowy beast sitting right behind your eyes. He could see it. Sense it, just like that night at 79’s.

But, just like that night, you choked it down and looked to Hunter for appraisal.

Complete the mission.

Crosshairs eye twitched as you laughed again, bumping into Hunter’s side and he zeroed in on the way his arm settled around yout shoulders so casually.

“We don’t know what else might be around here, or if Saw’s men intend on letting us leave. Don’t you think you should save the reunion party till we’re back on the ship?”

Your eyes flicked as you looked at him, the laughter dying on your face and it hit something deep in his chest, “You could pretend to be a little happier to see me, Crosshair.” Your words were light, but he could see the blade’s edge in the hardness of your eyes, the challenge levelled at him.

He rolled his shoulders again, trying to ease off that tension, “Of course I am. I just don’t think now is the time to be drawing a bigger target on ourselves. We’re already going to be reprimanded for not completing the mission. Now we have another of the Empire’s targets to paint on our backs.” He lifted his hand to motion to you, even though these words.. They were coming out wrong. All wrong. This isn’t what he wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you how relieved he was you were still alive, that the thought you could have been caught in the crossfire of the Order had nearly brought him to his knees… So why weren’t those words coming out?”

Complete the mission.

Echo frowned, looking at Crosshair sharply, “That’s enough, Crosshair. When do we ever complete a mission the way we’re asked to? This is nothing different to what we always do.” He looked back at you, then back to Crosshair as the Marauder came into view, “Ghost is not a target. What’s gotten into you?”

Crosshair wanted to scream, because even he didn’t know. He winced as that sharp pain came back into his head, “Good soldiers follow orders. We shouldn’t be drawing attention to ourselves.” He huffed, turning away, rubbing a hand over his head like he could push the thoughts out, “We need to complete the mission.” He shook his head sharply, then hurried into the ship, long legs working to draw him farther away.

Before he rounded the corner, he heard your voice again, “Maybe we should stop snapping at him and check he’s okay?”

No.

Something in him told him not to be in a room alone with you.

Just… No.

Complete the mission.

Good soldiers follow orders.

The Marauder was silent, save for the soft beeps and hums from the console, the proximity alarms on standby, and the soft breathing of your companions… and Wrecker’s snoring.

But you were used to all of it, a white noise that you found you couldn’t sleep without. The Marauder was a safe home, a solid point in a constantly whirring galaxy that tried to spin everything out of control at any given moment.

And given everything that had happened recently, you needed this stability more than anything.

You needed them more than anything.

As long as you had the Marauder and your family, you were okay. You were home. The rest of the galaxy might be in ruin, but this was your sanctuary.

And maybe you’d only have days before Tarkin realised the boys hadn’t returned to Kamino, but you would deal with that after, and whatever was going on with Crosshair.

You’d fix it.

You could deal with all that when it happened.

For now, you just wanted the peace and safety of the ship, and the boys.

But tonight, the peaceful atmosphere was different.

It was living.

Breathing.

It was alive, and it was prowling. Something was on the hunt.

No, someone was on the hunt.

Maybe that’s what turned your dreaming slumber, switching it from recent memories of all you had endured to awareness, even if your body was still at rest.

Your connection to the force, those senses that rivalled Hunter’s, were whispering at you, hissing a warning even though the Force itself was hurting.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

Your body remained still, breathing even, eyes closed but you didn’t need them open to see.

Someone was here, standing in the rest area at the back of the Marauder.

You could hear the breathing, the near silent inhale and exhale of a steady, solid rhythm. A hunter's rhythm.

Three counts. That’s what you gave yourself, your hand stretching out beneath your pillow, ready to call your sabers to you, because you hadn’t slept with them under your pillow tonight- you didn’t need to, not here.

One.

Adrenaline seeped through your blood, cool like ice, sparkling like lightning.

Two.

The thing was, you knew who it was.

You knew who was here, who had come to end your life.

Who hadn’t escaped the Order you all thought you were free from.

Three.

One more breath, then your eyes snapped open, sabers flying into your hands and igniting with that familiar hum.

The stark white glow lit up his face, bouncing over the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the tattoo, his eyes.

Those eyes were cold, detached, nothing recognisable of your friend in that gaze.

The gaze that was levelled through the sight of his blaster, trained on your centre of your forehead.

You sat up slowly, keeping your saber defensively between you, ready but unwilling to hurt him, because this wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. “Crosshair…”

His finger twitched, taking the safety off the weapon, determined. Cold.

Ready.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

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