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It had been a rough go out on Akiva, a mission to take out one of the primary droid fabrication plants gone awry when Wrecker ended up triggering a trap the team had no intel on, blasting half the team down into a canyon. Hunter and Echo had barely managed to drag an unconscious Wrecker from the canyon floor while Tech and Crosshair helped each other to hobble out with a broken leg and dislocated shoulder respectively, scrapes, gashes, and bruises abounding.
“How are things lookin’, Tech?” Hunter grunts as the five troopers make as much haste back towards the ship as they can.
“Not – hng- Not good. My leg is broken in at least two places, and the vital scans in Wrecker’s suit were damaged in the fall. I cannot tell his status.” Tech hisses, leaning heavily onto the sniper’s shoulder as Crosshair does his best to help his brother along.
“We need to get them medical help,” Echo grunts under the weight of the largest Batcher. “The kit on the ship isn’t meant for this level of injury.”
“Just get to the ship, I know where we can go.” Hunter shifts his weight just enough to pick up the pace, the alarms blaring through the facility as police droids flood from their stations, eyes on the motley crew.
“Hunter…,” Tech draws out, looking over to see the battalion of droids attempting to head them off.
“Keep going!” the leader shouts, staggering as best as he can. “C’mon, c’mon!”
Blaster fire whizzes overhead, a barrage of narrow misses as the five somehow manage to make it to the ship, gangway closing behind them as Hunter unceremoniously drops Wrecker, running to the cockpit to get the ship in the air. “Hang on!” he yells, throwing the thrusters to full, jettisoning the Marauder into the atmosphere, the planet quickly falling away as the group finally takes a breath.
“How you feeling, Tech?” Echo questions, sitting down beside his brother, trying not to let the unnatural way the genius’ leg lays out in front of him.
“All things considered, this is not the worst pain I have ever felt. Although, any sort of pain mitigation that we may currently have access to would be appreciated.” Even with a massively broken leg, the chatterbox remains, earning a chuckle from the reg-turned-batcher.
“I gotcha, just try not to move too much.”
“Drat, I was hoping to start running laps through the ship.” Echo rolls his eyes at him, returning with the pain killing injection. Not as good as the bacta they were used to, but they were in desperate need of a resupply, so this would have to do.
“What about you, Crosshair?”
The sniper is cradling his arm to him, wincing every time it jostles. “Dislocated shoulder,” he grits out, laying his head back against the cool metal of the ship, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the smelting facility. “And I hit my head in the fall.”
“Don’t move too much, and stay awake. You might have a concussion.” Echo moves over, pulling a torch from his pouch, swiping it back and forth across Crosshair’s eyes, frowning when his response time is too slow. “You do have a concussion. No rest for you until we get to the medical facility.”
“We’re almost there,” Hunter calls from up front, hands white-knuckled on the yolk.
“Where is ‘there’, exactly?” Tech calls, the painkillers fogging his brain in a way most unpleasant.
“A nearly unknown moon. It’s like Endor. I have a friend there who owes me a favor.”
~
“You look like bantha shit, H.” It’s been at least two years since you’ve seen the clone, and over a year since you’ve so much as received a transmission from him. You had started to wonder if maybe the war had taken him like it had taken so many others. The life of a soldier is a dangerous one. But now here he is, armor covered in burn marks and bags under his eyes unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
“Good to see you too. We need your help.”
“That much is obvious. What do you need?”
Hunter glances back over his shoulder before looking back to you. “You got a stretcher? We have some injuries that need tending too. Bad ones. Kamino was too far.”
That puts a crease in your brow, dropping your crossed arms and straightening your back. “I’ll go get it and start getting the med bay set up.” Hunter nods, following you to grab the stretcher before heading back to the ship, leaving you to put the bay together.
It takes a bit for Echo and Hunter to get Wrecker, still unconscious, onto the stretcher and into the med bay, earning a gasp from you when they bring him in.
“Maker alive, Hunter! What the hell happened?” You gesture to the table, watching as they offload the massive clone before going to work, pulling out your rudimentary scanner to measure his brain activity. Maybe you should ask him to get a new one for you before he visits again.
“We were on a mission gone wrong. He fell down a canyon and hit his head hard enough to knock him out. Echo, go get Tech and Cross.” Echo nods, turning to follow orders as Hunter turns back to you. “We’re too far to go back to Kamino, and we don’t have the resources to take care of them on the ship. You were our only option.”
“You really need to stop coming to me only when you need something, you know.” You flash him a grin before looking back to Wrecker, opening his eyes to shine a light to measure pupil dilation. “I’ve missed you.”
“There’s a war going on, and I’m a soldier. I can’t just visit you whenever I want.”
“Can’t call your best friend either, huh?” You don’t mean to sound so bitter, but you can’t help it. With a sigh, you set the scanner down, moving to rifle through your medicines. “Sorry, just gets lonely here. And I’ve missed you and your dumb bandanna.”
“Remind me to never give you painkillers again,” Echo grumbles as he returns with the stretcher, another clone babbling about something highly technical that you can’t really follow with how slurred his speech is. The lines on your forehead only deepen at the clearly drugged clone, and you glance back to Hunter for an explanation.
“Broken leg. And Crosshair here has a dislocated shoulder.”
“And a concussion,” Echo voices.
“You lot are lucky I’m well stocked right now,” you sigh, stepping back to the medicine cabinet and pulling out the necessary medical kit. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll work my way through you all.”
The one called Echo, seemingly more robot than man, makes his way over to you and for a moment, your heart aches for him. Whatever happened to result in such intense augmentation, couldn’t have been a good thing. “What can I do to help?” he asks softly, the worry for his brothers plain as day on his face, and you give him a reassuring smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sure you’re tired too. You sit and rest, get some shuteye. I’ll handle everything, don’t worry.” The nod he gives you is a hesitant one before he turns, heading over to a couch and very nearly collapsing onto the cushions. Hunter stands in the corner, watching his men with tired eyes, and you know that until you’ve treated everyone else, it would be useless to tell him to sit and rest.
For the most part, Wrecker is fine. Majorly concussed, but otherwise fine. He must have been knocked out by the blast that Hunter had explained had caused this whole mess, his limp body taking the damage easier than he would have had he been awake. You give him a little bit of bacta for the pain and to encourage healing before moving on to Tech who has since succumbed to the sedative Echo had given him, snoring loudly on the stretcher they never moved him from.
Setting a bone has never been an enjoyable thing for you. Felling the bones moving under the skin from a compound fracture can be nauseating. You decide on giving Tech a little more sedative to make sure he stays asleep for this, knowing it’s going to hurt as you set the bones back in place before wrapping it tightly, splinting the leg in place. He wouldn’t be able to use it for a while, at least not until the men get back to Kamino and are taken care of there in the far more advanced medical facilities. The amount of diluted bacta you have can only do so much.
The whole time you work, concentration etched into your features, you feel eyes on you. The one Hunter called Crosshair hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a moment, a scowl on his face as he cradles his arm to his body. The others have long since knocked out, the drop in adrenaline leaving them all exhausted, even if not physically injured, including Hunter, much to your surprise The one with silver hair is wary of you, eyes like a hawk taking in every movement as you work on his brothers. You suppose that’s fair. After all, Hunter is the only one here who actually knows you, and the likelihood that he told any of them about you is slim to none. The fewer who knew your location, the safer you were, or something like that.
Several bandages and bacta patches later, you’re moving over to where Crosshair sits on a bench along the far wall, giving him a reassuring smile. “Echo says you have a concussion, so thank you for staying awake. I’m sure it’s not easy. I’ll fix you right up,” you promise, reaching for a strip of leather to hand to him. He arches a dark eyebrow and your heart rate picks up before you clear your throat. “Putting your shoulder back is going to hurt. A lot. Bite down on this so you don’t break your teeth from clenching them.” Still, he doesn’t move and you sigh, setting the leather next to him.
“Who are you?” he finally rasps, and his voice is carefully calculated. It’s low and soft, but the weight behind it tells you that this man is not one to be flippant with his speech.
“I’m an old friend of Hunter’s. Patched him up after a solo mission went wrong and we’ve been friends ever since.”
“He’s never spoken of you.”
That earns him a sad smile, and you nod, looking down at your hands so you don’t get trapped in those incredibly sharp eyes. “The fewer people who knew of me, the safer I was, so he said. You know Hunter. He’s a protector.” You glance back up at the slender clone, the pain of his shoulder drawing his features into a pinched expression. “I can make the pain stop. Hunter trusted me to take care of you, surely that means something to you.”
Another beat of silence passes before Crosshair nods, carefully dropping his arm and grabbing the leather, securing it between his teeth before nodding at you. You return the nod, standing and moving to his side, helping him to lay down. He grunts as he shoulder shifts, and you apologize softly before grabbing his hand, moving his arm perpendicular to his body. “Here we go,” you whisper before beginning to pull. He groans, jaw taught with the force he bites down on the leather as you rock the arm side to side until you slide it just enough, the shoulder resetting with a dull thud followed by a gasp from the clone.
“There we go. Now let’s sit you up carefully now,” you encourage, helping to sit him up. “I need to immobilize your arm and get you something for the concussion. Then you can sleep.” You give him a soft smile, resting your hand on his shoulder, and all he can do is nod, suddenly exhausted. But you’ll take care of him, he knows that now.
~
“We can’t thank you enough,” Hunter praises, hand on your shoulder as the boys get ready to return to Kamino after a day recuperating with you. Wrecker woke up, dazed, confused and hungry, but otherwise fine. Crosshair’s arm has mostly stabilized and the bacta is doing wonders for his concussion. Tech still needs some better medical attention than you can provide, but he should be fine as soon as he’s back on Kamino.
“What are friends for?” you chuckle, putting your hand over his. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but you always have a space here. All of you do.”
“We’ll remember that. Take care of yourself, alright? The galaxy isn’t safe right now.” The others nod, confirming what their leader says and you can’t help but chuckle again.
“Hunter, the galaxy was never safe. That’s just the nature of it. You boys be careful now, and don’t be strangers.” A chorus of affirmatives is your answer before they turn, heading back to their ship to return home. You watch as they ascend the gangway, eyes lingering on Crosshair as they do. Something about the slender clone captivates you, pulling a smile to your face as he turns, eyes locking on your own as the gangway closes, and for a moment, you swear you see the ghost of a smile dance across his features, and your heart flips in your chest. As the ship takes to the sky, quickly disappearing through the cloud bank, you can’t help but find yourself longing for the day Clone Force 99 makes their way back to your doorstep.
~
Three more instances find the ragtag group of clones on your doorstep, each time in need of some sort of assistance, but never as bad as that first run in. Mainly bumps and bruises that a few bacta patches are sufficient to handle, and you wonder if the boys are just stopping by to take a breath from the war for a rotation or two. You can’t blame them, war is worse than hell, and war is all they have ever known.
When they visit, after getting patched up, they spend most of the time sleeping, snores filling your home as you go about your day, preparing the obscene amount of food they all seem to be able to pack away. It’s peaceful, having them all sleeping there, an indication of how safe your home is, and you take pride in that.
Crosshair always seems to sleep the lightest, a single eye opening to watch you whenever you walk past, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking as he does. Thank goodness his mutations didn’t give him something ridiculous like mind reading abilities that you’ve heard rumors of. You don’t need him hearing the embarrassing thoughts floating around your head.
Each time they leave, Cross lingers a little longer, watches you a little more as the Marauder takes to the clouds. And each time, you find yourself wishing a little more that they would stay a little longer.
This most recent visit, the boys barely manage to stagger off the ship before collapsing on the cots you keep prepared for them. Wrecker doesn’t even take the time to ask about food, and you wonder for a moment when exactly was the last time these boys had a good night’s worth of rest. Far too long ago, if you had to guess.
Your lips turn down as you work on slicing ingredients for the pot of stew you’re preparing for dinner as you ponder over how poorly the boys seem to be taking care of themselves. You don’t even hear him come in, his footsteps as quiet as a cat’s, and he takes the moments of your distraction to simply watch you.
The sniper has taken a liking to you, your calm demeanor something not typically found with his brothers, especially not when Wrecker is around. The way you carry yourself is confident but not cocky, and no matter what condition they all show up in, you take them in with open arms. Even now, you’re feeding a small army all from the good of your own heart. There are times when Cross finds himself wondering if there is any good left in the galaxy at all, and then he remembers you, and knows there is.
The last time they were here his shoulder had been dislocated again, and you had playfully teased him about how if he wanted you to hold his hand, all he needed to do was ask. The comment had taken him off guard, eyes widening as the normally composed soldier attempted to stammer out a response. The boys had teased him about that for weeks after the fact, and just thinking of it now has the heat rushing to his cheeks.
He had left you a little token the last time he was here. Something to remember him by, he had written before wrapping the little tag in a sniper rifle crosshair necklace that was carved from the same material as his armor. He hadn’t failed to notice the pendant around your neck when you greeted them earlier, and it made his heart thud in his chest. Even now, you still wear it.
Crosshair is lost in his thoughts long enough for you to turn around, jumping and squeaking in surprise when you find him arms crossed and leaning against your counter. He looks almost as shocked as you, but only for a moment before that stoicism that is uniquely him settles back over his features. “You startled me. I figured you’d still be passed out like your brothers.” You brush past him, reaching up by his head to grab down a can of something he doesn’t recognize.
“No. I don’t sleep much.” His sharp gaze follows you as you move through the kitchen.
“You should sleep more. You all looked really worn down when you got here.” You flash him a disarming smile, and it takes a beat longer for the sniper to respond than he would like.
“I’m fine,” he insists, pushing off of the counter to come and look into the pot that is simmering away on the stove, flavorful aromas beginning to swirl around the kitchen and making his stomach growl. He’s used to chow hall food, and to say that it is anything better than mediocre would be a lie.
With a playful grin, you wave the spoon at him. “Such a conversationalist, as always. Alright then. If you’re going to linger here, I’m going to put you to work. Gotta earn your meals, soldier.”
Crosshair chuckles at that, resting a hand against the counter as he turns his front to you. Maker, he’s tall. “Whatever you need, princess.” Oh, that should not have the effect that it does on you. It’s like your brain short circuits, leaving you a stammering, incoherent mess. And he can tell from the look on his face, lips curling up in a knowing smirk. He crowds closer, and heat floods your cheeks as he does. You feel like a bird caught in the eyes of a snake, frozen. “Not so bossy now, hmmm?” You blink before finally managing to cut your eyes away and clearing your throat.
“G-Go peel the topatoes,” you squeak before ducking away from him to wash a few of the dishes you’ve dirtied in making the soup, leaving the sniper watching, a small smirk on his face before he turns to do as he’s told.
Before you know it, it’s time for the boys to leave again, restocked and bellies full as they head off on the second part of their mission. This time, however, Crosshair lingers after the others have boarded. You smile up at him as he approaches you, helmet held under one arm. “Rumor has it the war is nearly over.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. “Good,” you reply. “The galaxy has seen too much loss as of late.”
“What will you do when it’s over?” He shifts his weight, watching you closely with those always sharp eyes and you have to look away or risk locking up again.
“Same as I always do, I suppose. Stay here and live life, just with a little less worry this time.” The sound he makes at that is contemplative, a question on the tip of his tongue that he can’t seem to bring himself to ask, so you answer it for him. “You’ll always be welcome here, Crosshair, wherever the Force takes you.” You pause for a moment before adding, “And I would love to see you again.” It’s nearly imperceptible, but the sniper’s shoulders relax at that, his lips quirking up into a gentle, lopsided smile, and he nods before reaching out to you, hand hovering by your cheek for a moment before he places it on your shoulder instead, leaving without another word.
This time, as you watch their ship exit the atmosphere with your hand gripping your necklace tight, you feel a strange sense of emptiness, like a part of you has left with them this time. A part of you that is no doubt with the tall and slender clone. You just hope he keeps it safe.
~
News is hard to come by on your little moon. Being off of any main hyperspace lanes means visitors are few and far between. Word of the war ending and the republic falling never reaches your ears, the treason of the clones a thought that could never cross your mind. You’re safe, insulated in your little bubble until the fateful day Clone Force 99 returns to your doorstep.
You rush out to greet them, a smile wide on your face. It isn’t to last, however, quickly falling when you notice he’s not with them, and their steps are far more belabored. Something is wrong.
Hunter is the first to greet you, as he always is, his face solemn and pained as he relays to you the news of Order 66 and the collapse of the Republic. The rise of the Empire nauseates you, only exacerbated by Crosshair’s apparent betrayal. No… no, not betrayal. Order 66 wasn’t a betrayal, it was mind control.
“You left him…?” Those words don’t make sense to you. They can’t be right. These boys were inseparable, brothers through thick and thin. The fact that they could ever even so much as imagine leaving their brother behind boggles your mind and rends your heart in two. “How could you just leave him?” Hunter reaches out for your shoulder, but you pull away, shaking your head as you head back inside, your decision already made. It’s time to get off of this rock. It’s time to get Crosshair back.
The leader follows you at a few paces, hands out in a placating manner. “Please hear me out-”
“Go away, Hunter. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m packing a bag and getting on your ship with you. We’re going back for him.” You yank a pack down from the shelves, dusty from cycles of disuse.
“We’re on our way to a job, and then we can put together a plan to get him.”
Your eyes cut to him, narrowed and calculating before you nod. “I’ll be on the ship in ten.” He nods, heading back to the ship, and you follow soon after, boots thudding heavily up the gangway.
The ship is quiet, tense. Save for one set of curious eyes set under blonde hair. You blink at this new addition, her features strikingly similar to the other men aboard. “You must be the one they’ve all been talking about. I’m Omega!” Her accent isn’t one you’ve ever heard before, and you glance up at the others, all busied with getting the ship ready for liftoff, acutely avoiding your gaze, before looking back to her and giving her your name. “It’s a nice name. Welcome aboard!”
Honestly, thank the Maker for that little girl. She’s the only thing that kept you from launching into a tirade against the others for the entirety of the trip as she probed you with questions and regaled you with stories of her adventures since joining up with most of the Batch. She’s a tough little kid, you’ll grant her that much, especially having faced down the largest Batcher as he tried to kill her. A little token of those inhibitor chips she’s been telling you about. If they could fix Wrecker…then there is still hope for the sniper. Especially with Tech’s tech to help with the job.
~
The job quickly changes, a holo from Rex redirecting you to a rescue mission. It doesn’t sit right with you from the moment Tech changes course, anxiety pitting in your gut as you wait on the ship with Omega when the boys disembark. It’s a rescue op: get in, get the captured reg, and get out. Hunter and Tech make it sound so simple, routine even. All the same, something isn’t right.
The boys had left you and Omega on the ship as the getaway drivers, knowing that the possibility of getting out of there without triggering some type of alarm was nothing more than a spice dream, and the whole time Omega has been uncharacteristically quiet, watching out the cockpit from where the ship waits. She’s worried too, you can tell, the severity of the situation not lost on her, and you have no idea how to even begin calming her down, especially knowing that Cross is most likely somewhere in that facility, not even remotely close to being in his right mind.
You’re jared from your thoughts as the com crackles to life, Tech’s voice coming through paired with heavy blaster fire, and Omega is already pulling the ship around before you can even reply, heading down to the gunner’s mount. From there, it goes from bad to worse in the span of seconds.
You’re outnumbered, heavily. Tech takes control as soon as he’s aboard, blaster fire only increasing the longer you remain stationary. It grows so heavy that Tech is forced to pull away from the cliff face just as Hunter makes to jump aboard. Omega’s scream as Hunter falls away from the ship very nearly rends your heart in two, but Tech can’t turn back, Imperial vessels on your tail as he hauls through the sky, the deflector shields taking heavy fire. Sirens are blaring, Omega is frantic, the ship rattles with every blast. And then Hunter gives the order. Get out of here.
Your heart falls through the floor of the ship.
~
“Go back! We have to go back for him!” Omega is screaming, begging Tech to turn around as tears stream down her face. You cling to her, holding her back from grabbing the yolk and turning the ship around. Any attempt to console her just seems to make her cry harder until she reaches a point of exhaustion that finally forces her to collapse back against you, tears in your own eyes.
“We will repair the damage, and make a new plan to get him out. We won’t just leave him there, Omega.” Tech had landed somewhere quiet, someplace where the boys could repair the damaged ship enough to go back and get their comrades, before coming over to talk to the smallest clone where she leaned into your side, your own arms around her. “We do not leave each other behind. We’ll get him. I promise.” All the girl can do is nod, but this must be enough for Tech, as he nods in return before standing to head back to the bridge to repair what damage he can.
“That’s two we’ve left behind,” she whispers, her small hands clenching your tunic in her fists, trembling.
“We’ll get them both,” you soothe, stroking her hair. “Hunter is strong, he knows how to bide his time until we’re able to get back for him.”
“And Crosshair?”
The name sits heavy on your heart, the pennant heavy around your neck. You’re not even sure what shape Cross is in, not sure just how this so-called inhibitor chip has altered his mind. Would he even recognize you? Or worse… would that even matter? “We’ll get him too,” you assure her, though you aren’t sure how much is for the girl and how much is for you. Perhaps it’s both. Perhaps it’s best if it’s both.
~
“They’ve moved him to Kamino?” Your heart sinks again, knowing this is a trap. Worse yet, knowing that this trap has Crosshair written all over it.
“We’ll be flying right into a trap,” Echo voices the thought’s you’re too scared to speak into existence.
“He’d do the same for any one of us,” Tech assures, inputting the coordinates for the planet they all once called home. You don’t voice your thoughts about how he abandoned their sniper. No, things are stressful enough as it is. That was a conversation for after everyone was back aboard, safe.
Omega turns out to be an absolute wealth of knowledge about the ocean planet, directing the crew to a hidden platform far from the main city, connected by a single tube transport. Tech tries to convince you to stay with the ship as you pull out a blaster and vibroblade from your pack, strapping them on, but the glare you cast his way is enough to silence the normally talkative clone.
As it turns out, the tube leads to Nala Se’s secret lab; the origin of the Bad Batch, a cradle of life now silent as the grave. When Omega speaks of watching the boys being created, it’s with a sense of longing for a life that never was and is now in jeopardy. You place your hand on her shoulder and give her a reassuring nod before she steels herself, leading the way from the lab back to the main city.
It doesn’t take long for all hell to break loose once the Batch are able to subdue their brother, the group of you all making a beeline for the exits. Kamino must have served its purpose long enough, as blaster fire from star destroyers riddles the complex in an attempt to scuttle the facility. A support beam gives way, and the Batch are separated, Omega and an unconscious Crosshair on one side of watertight doors, you and the others on the other.
You’re frantic, pounding on the doors as you attempt to force them open while Wrecker wedges his blade along the lock mechanism, hoping to wedge the doors open. The rush of water pouring from the room as the doors open causes your heart to seize in your chest until you see the girl and your sniper, coughing and gasping but very much alive and you offer a silent thanks to the Maker.
You reach out to help the sniper up, but then Crosshair’s eyes land on you, and if he’s at all surprised, he doesn’t show it, his glare hard and cold as he rises to his feet on his own. It hurts more than any physical injury ever could for him to look at you like that, and you have to remind yourself that it’s just the chip, this isn’t him. He brushes past you without so much as a word before Hunter comes to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder, but it does little to bring you comfort.
The trek to the landing pad is less than smooth, the collapsing facility lending trial after trial. In a last ditch effort to get to the surface, Tech suggests riding the pods out in the open water. The pods are a gamble, you know it, but there’s no other way you rationalize as you climb into the pod with Omega, hand resting on her shoulder as she blows the wall of the lab, water rushing in in a torrent.
The open water is terrifying enough on its own, but when shrapnel and debris rains from the destroyed city, the feeling of sinking dread is beyond anything you have ever felt, and the only thing keeping you from opening the pod is knowing that you’d be in the open water if you did. AZI does his best to keep you out of the way of debris on his dwindling battery, jumping from pod to pod avoiding support beams as they sink to the ocean’s floor. But then the worst happens, a large piece of debris catching your pod, dragging you down with it. A scream catches in your throat that you only just manage to swallow as you cling to Omega while AZI works to free you.
You only just register Hunter on Omega’s com, the young girl far more composed than you as she confirms that both of you are alright, AZI breaking your free. But the poor little droid’s servos are failing, his battery dwindling to nothing as the lights of his eyes flicker and die.
“I have to get him!” Omega screams. “I’m going to get AZI!”
“Omega don’t!” You reach for her, taking a breath as she reaches for the latch, and not a moment too soon before the both of you are whisked out into the water. You do your best to swim for her, reaching out until she just slips past your fingers. You hate the water, especially the open water, and panic begins to clench your heart as your lungs start to burn, the girl slipping farther from you as your buoyant outfit drags you rapidly to the surface, Omega growing smaller and smaller.
When you break the surface, you’re panting and gasping for air, choking and spluttering on water as Echo heaves you into the pod he shares with Tech.
“You’re alright, we got cha,” he calms you, hand patting your back firmly.
“I’m going in after her!” Hunter yells over the sound of the burning debris that floats on the surface of the ocean. You blink the water from your eyes as you watch Crosshair stand, leveling his rifle just over Hunter’s shoulder, firing off the grappling hook. You glance around as he retracts the cable to find the boys all pointing their guns at their brother, scowls twisting their faces into unpleasant expressions. You choke out a cough, reaching to lower Tech’s gun. He glances at you as you shake your head, reluctantly lowering the weapon as Omega breaks the surface, Hunter hauling her into the pod.
Crosshair takes a moment to look over his shoulders, and you watch as he slumps when he sees Wrecker, the one who you knew he was closest to, pointing his blaster as him before tossing his rifle at the larger clone and sitting down in the pod, staring into the water. Your heart aches for him, the betrayal clear as day on his face.
“Let’s get going,” Hunter calls, the boys all beginning to paddle to the landing pad.
You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, hunched over in the pod he shares with Hunter like the weight of the world sits on his shoulders. For a moment, you swear you see the shimmer of wetness at the corners of his eyes, before he presses his hand to his forehead, face screwing up into a pained scowl before that openness is replaced by cold, hard lines.
Come morning, the group makes it to the landing pad where the Marauder sits. It’s a rare day on Kamino, the rains abated for just a moment. In the distance, the remnants of the debris burn, thick black smoke curling up to the sky. It’s too peaceful of a day, you think, as you watch the boys mourn the loss of the only home they have ever known, and your heart aches for them.
You’re lost for a moment, deep in thought as the boys talk to Crosshair, urging him to come with them. His voice, telling them that this changes nothing is the only thing that jars you from your thoughts, your brow furrowing as Hunter turns, heading back to the ship where you wait, having given them a moment alone.
“What are you doing?” you ask softly as Hunter makes to move past you.
“He’s made his choice.”
“You… you kriffing nerfherder!” you scream, rage coursing through you that Hunter would even think to abandon their brother for a second time. “You can’t just leave him here! You already left him behind once. What kind of brother are you to do it a second time!?” Your yelling has drawn the eyes of the others, Cross included as you jab your so-called friend in the chest plate with your finger.
Hunter stands his ground, crossing his arms as he glares at you. “He’s on a different path than us. He said so himself, he’s joining the Empire of his own volition. He doesn’t have his chip anymore.”
“Oh really? And Tech has verified that? Used that fancy brain scan that he wouldn’t shut up about earlier when he was talking about the chips!?”
“I feel like I should take offense to that,” you hear Tech mutter behind you, followed by Echo’s sharp hush.
Hunter looks less sure now, eyes darting over to Crosshair who glares back at him before looking back at you. “I-”
“Trust but verify! Always! I cannot believe you would trust the word of someone who is under the influence of an inhibitor chip without being certain the chip is out!”
“She makes an excellent point, Hunter. We have yet to medically assess the status of Crosshair’s chip. There is the potential that the chip is still active, even if damaged by the ionic radiation from the engines during our last encounter.”
“Thank you, Tech!” You place your hands on your hips, narrowing your eyes at the leader of the group. “We are not going anywhere without each and every one of you on that ship.”
“You are not the leader of this squad,” Hunter growls, taking a step forward to get in your face.
“And if you’d leave your brother to die on an abandoned water planet, then you’re not fit to be either,” you counter, words quiet and laced with disappointment. Hunter’s eyes widen, looking as though you’ve just stuck him across the face before he looks back to Crosshair who has turned to look back at the smoking wreckage of home. It’s tense for a moment, the gears turning in Hunter’s face before he relents, nodding.
“Wrecker, grab him. No one stays behind.” Hunter takes one last look at you before turning, stomping up the gangway to start the ship as Wrecker wrestles Cross. Despite the fight he attempts to put up, Wrecker wins every time in a test of strength. The others follow, making their way up the gangway before Hunter is pulling the ship into the air, Wrecker working at restraining an ornery Crosshair who keeps hurling some of the most colorful insults you’ve ever heard at each member on board the ship. Even Omega isn’t spared from his harassing. But then his eyes fall on you, and for a moment, locking on the necklace around your neck, and he stills, allowing Wrecker to finish strapping him in. You can see him in those eyes, the playful Crosshair you met back at your home. The one who likes to tease and taunt. The one who is surprisingly soft if you look hard enough. But then he blinks, and his eyes harden again, scowl deepening as he fights the restraints.
“If he keeps fighting, I won’t be able to use the scanner on him.” Tech appears at your side, pushing up his goggles.
“Then sedate him,” you counter. “I have the drugs in my kit to do it. Enough to knock out Wrecker several times over.” You turn to look at Tech, the brain scanner and datapad in his hands. “We have to know. Because I think he’s lying about the chip, Tech. I can see it in his eyes.”
“Let’s just hope you’re right,” Tech sighs as you move to grab the syringe and sedative.
“Don’t you dare,” Crosshair growls at you as you approach with the needle, eyes hard and cold.
“We have to know, Cross. And you’re not making it easy on us.” You can’t make eye contact anymore, the coldness of his gaze simply too overwhelming for you to take. He winces as you administer the injection to his neck, but moments later, he’s out, head lolling forward, and Tech quickly takes your place to run the scan.
It’s a quiet, tense few moments on the Marauder, the only sound is the quiet beeping of the data pad and the soft hum of the engines. Tech’s sound of surprise is the first thing to break the silence before he looks up with wide eyes full of hope. You grab the datapad, the bright red dot on Crosshair’s frontal lobe confirmation of what you already knew to be true.
“He still has his chip,” Tech confirms, crossing his arms. “It was damaged, as I suspected, but not rendered completely inert. It has flashes of function between periods of dead time. However, there is something odd about this.” He reaches for the datapad, taking it from your hands before flipping through some older files. “If we are to compare the activity of the chips between all of ours and Crosshair’s, his is operating at levels astronomically higher than any of ours.”
“It was a fail safe,” voices Omega, the first words she’s spoken since the ship took to the sky. Five sets of eyes turn to look at the little blonde girl huddled up in her room. “Nala Se made sure the chip could be adjustable, in the event that a clone had a stronger willpower. It was to make sure the clones were completely controllable. Crosshair must have been fighting it the whole time, so they increased the chip function.”
A sense of dread once more settles over you as you look back to Crosshair, still asleep under the effect of the drug. “Could that have… damaged his brain?”
“I don’t know,” Omega whispers, clinging tighter to Lula. “I’ve never seen it done before.”
“Only one way to find out,” Hunter finally speaks up. “Tech, get that chip out of him.
~
The next several hours are the most anxiety inducing you have ever experienced. Tech is able to get the chip out, sealing up the wound with a bacta patch easily enough. After that, it’s a waiting game until Crosshair wakes back up. Only then would you all know if the words he touted about joining the Empire were really him.
Echo encourages you to get some sleep when he catches you yawning, slumping against the table Crosshair is laying on, but you tell him no, insisting on waiting for the clone you’ve grown so fond of to wake up. He eventually leaves you be, laying a ration bar and canteen beside you, insisting you at least need to eat. The ration bar tastes like sand on your tongue, but it’s better than nothing.
You don’t remember taking Crosshair’s hand, and you certainly don’t remember dozing off while holding it, but the feeling of his slender fingers squeezing your hand gently startles you to alertness. You sit up to find him smirking at you with the bleary eyes one tends to have after coming out from under a sedative.
“You know, if you wanted to hold my hand,” he whispers, raspy voice hoarse, “all you had to do was ask.” Never before in your life have you ever been so happy to have your own words thrown back at you and the sound you let out is nearly a sob as you bring his hand to your cheek.
The sound draws the attention of the others, all coming to congregate around their brother as you help him to sit up. They’re hesitant, you can tell, and you can’t blame any of them. Even Omega hesitates this time, unlike she apparently had with Wrecker. You suppose that makes sense. Verbal wounds hurt so much more than physical, after all.
Tech, in typical Tech fashion, shoves his way to the front, only backing off from you when you throw him a glare that would have had him on the floor if looks could kill before dialing up his datapad to check Cross’ vitals. “How are you feeling?” he inquires, eyes focused on the pad as his fingers fly across it.
“Like I’ve been run over by a land speeder. Twice.” Cross reaches up, fingers dancing over the patch on his head and he winces before looking around at each of his brothers. He lets out a defeated sigh, shoulders slumping as his eyes land on Omega, and then you, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I… remember everything I did. Everything I said.” His voice drips with regret as he stares at the ground, seemingly unable to make eye contact with his brothers and sister. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, the one person he always felt safe around. “I even thought I… believed what I was saying.”
“And now?” Hunter queries, arms crossed and voice hard. You send him an angry side-eye that he pointedly ignores, focusing on his brother.
“I would never shoot civilians,” he answers quickly, head snapping up to glare back at Hunter. “Even if you gave the order, I wouldn’t do it. And I wouldn’t…,” he looks back to Omega and you can see the pain flashing behind his eyes. “And I wouldn’t give an order to shoot a child. I am me, I swear.”
Crosshair grimaces, reaching up to press on his forehead. “It feels like someone is trying to carve out my skull with a vibroblade,” he groans, and you carefully pull his hands away, replacing them with your own to work his pressure points, hoping to ease the pain some.
“Omega and Tech said your chip functionality was cranked higher than any of your brothers. That you were fighting the chip’s control the whole time to have to justify something like that.” You keep your voice soft, knowing loud noises only make headaches worse. “He can’t find any physical damage to your brain from it, which is good, but there could be some lingering effects.”
“Like what?” he asks softly, and everyone stills.
“We don’t know,” Omega pipes up, drawing Cross’ gaze as she looks up at him with big eyes. “I’ve never seen Nala Se increase the chip functionality before. I don’t know what the side effects are.”
He’s quiet for a moment, watching the physically younger sister before reaching up slowly. You see Hunter tense besides you until Crosshair puts his hand on her head, ruffling her blonde locks in a gesture of affection. “I’m sorry for what I said to you before.” The sincerity in Crosshair’s voice weighs heavy on your heart, and you see the boys all relax. “Your ideas on Kamino were good ones. And you saved me. Thank you.”
The trepidation Omega had been sporting on her face until now dissolves, replaced by a bright and wide smile as she lunges forward, wrapping her arms around her brother’s mid section. He doesn’t know how to react at first, before gently laying his hand back on the top of her head, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.
“So… are you… back on our side?” Wrecker asks, stepping forward. You know the two were the closest of the group and for Cross to turn as he did weighed so heavily on the larger clone.
Crosshair looks up, a flash of pain across his face before he nods. “Just… don’t point your blaster at me anymore, Wrecker.”
“Eh, right, sorry ‘bout that. Looked like you was pointing yours at Hunter.” Wrecker reaches across you and slaps his brother on the shoulder, rocking his whole body forward and into you. You chuckle as you help him right himself, making a note of the fact that his heart rate monitor on the datapad spikes. That you could save for a later discussion.
“Well… I’d call this a successful mission,” Echo finally speaks up, making his way back to the cockpit. “Can we head back to your place?”
Six sets of beautiful brown eyes all turn your way, your hand squeezed a bit more tightly in Crosshair’s and you smile, nodding. “Take us home, Echo. You’ve all earned a big dinner.”
“All right!” Wrecker cheers, scooping up an equally excited Omega to go play with her and Lula to pass the time of the trip as the others disperse, leaving you with Crosshair who is still in no state to be moving around just yet.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” Crosshair speaks up after a few quiet moments of watching your entwined hands. “I heard you on the coms when we cornered Hunter and I had a moment of clarity before the chip took over again. I… why did you come?”
With a sad smile, you reach up to tilt his chin up so he will look at you. “Because I couldn’t just leave you to suffer, Cross.” His eyes search yours, and they must find something that relaxes him, the tension leaving his shoulders completely. “You needed help, and I’m not the type to sit idly by while the man I care about is kicked around like a dog.”
“You care about me, huh?” he asks with that smirk of his, and your heart flutters in your chest.
“I’m surprised you even need to ask me that, you dummy.” You flash him your own playful smile as he reaches up to take your hand from he chin so he can hold both of yours in both of his. “I care about you a lot. More than anyone.”
“More than Hunter?” His voice is soft, wary of the short clone’s heightened senses.
“That bantha brained bandanna boasting buffoon is my best friend, but you? No, you I care about in a whole different way, Cross.” You let go with one hand to grab his pendant around your neck. “I’m wearing your necklace, not his bandanna.”
His face softens at that, and you wonder if anyone has ever told him something like this before. You presume not, as for most of the 11 years he’s existed, he’s only known that infernal Clone War. You’ll have to remember to tell him more often. “I care about you too, cyare.”
The word is foreign to your ears, but from the way he says it, you know it must mean something special. You’ll ask when you’re safe and alone back on your little moon.
“Pay up.” You and Crosshair turn to see Echo holding his hand out to Tech who begrudgingly puts a handful of credits into Echo’s palm. Echo looks elated, slipping the credits into his pouch before flashing you a thumbs up and turning back to face the transparisteel.
“You… bet on us?” you ask, half amused at the antics between the two.
Tech swivels around in his chair, pushing his goggles up once again. “Since the first time Hunter brought us by, actually. Apparently my powers of deduction fall short in manners of relationships.” You can’t help but chuckle at the irritation in Tech’s voice, knowing how much he hates to lose, before you turn back to look at Crosshair, content for the first time in a very long time.
~
With a groan, you stand from your garden, brushing away the dirt from your knees before placing your hands on your back to support the weight of the swell of your stomach. The Batch were due back any day now, and you couldn’t wait to see your sniper again. The kicks had started happening while he was away, and the look on his face the first time he feels it has been the object of your day dreams for weeks now.
Right on schedule, the Marauder breaks the atmosphere, making its way to the little patch of land you’ve carved out as a pseudo landing pad. As soon as the gangway is down, Crosshair is running down the ramp and over to you, taking you in his arms with a passionate kiss, same as every time he comes home. You can’t help but giggle, the elation of seeing him again the same as every other time he takes your breath away, before you let him go, going to greet the rest of your little family.
It’s your little tradition to prepare them a feast whenever they return, the whole crew able to put enough food away for a group three times their size. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, because seeing them all here, gathered around your table bickering and laughing and feasting means they made it another day in this cruel galaxy.
It’s another successful mission; Crosshair takes your hand.