Chapter Text
The capital city’s streets are vibrating with discordant drums and the high clatter of bells in the hands of every resident. Wrecker is leading the way with Omega up on his shoulders trying to forge a path through the crowds. With the whole city eager to celebrate the first holiday since the end of the Clone Wars nothing could deter the residents from enjoying themselves. Even with his bulk and the fully armor squad behind him people don’t seem to be willing to move.
“Why is everyone so happy?” Omega shouts down at them. She hasn’t stopped wriggling on Wrecker’s shoulders, twisting and turning, trying to take in everything at once.
“It is an annual festival, commemorating the liberation of their world from foreign occupation of a rival moon some thousand years ago.” Tech shied away from a woman that was trying to hang a string of bells on him, bumping into Crosshair who scowled at the woman.
The smile on her face slipped a little, but Echo gave her a kind nod and held out his hand for the trinket. She gives him a nervous smile then looks up to see Crosshair giving her a death stare.
“Really?” Echo looks over at him when the woman makes a quick retreat.
“Enjoying the local scenery?”
“Maybe I was.” He hates the self satisfied smile on Echo’s face, but the crowd surges at that point and he gets squished between Tech and Echo.
Echo takes advantage of the momentary closeness to plant a kiss to his jaw. He grabs onto an armored hip and slides his hand to the small of his back.
“That’s not Echo.” Tech breathes into his ear.
“I hate holidays.” It’s so loud that only Tech hears him. The crowd shifts and they make it out of the square. Omega now has a fistful of bells and she’s beaming around her.
“Wait until they start dropping the colors.” Tech yells into his ear.
“What colors?” Fireworks suddenly break over the city, but instead of light they drop clouds of multicolored dust. A shout rises from the beating heart of the city and they all watch as smaller canisters go off. Crosshair grabs onto Tech when they start to drift from the others and they start pushing their way toward Omega.
Echo looks back at him, then glances up at the building they’re pushing past. Crosshair catches the surprise on his face, but he barely manages to keep his grip on Tech when his entire world turns purple.
The sack of chalk, meant to be dispersed in small handfuls completely covers him. It trickles through the cracks in his armor and he can feel it falling down the back of his neck when he tries to shake it off. Tech didn’t get nearly as much on him, but his goggles are completely smeared.
Crosshair is still trying to figure out what happened when Wrecker catches sight of them.
“I think purple might be your color, Cross. Really brings out that smile.” Omega laughs as a cloud of blue goes up around her.
“You alright? Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop the hole thing.” A voice from above, but Crosshair is too busy reaching for his rifle to answer.
“All good!” Hunter jumps on him before he can shake the dust from his eyes. “We’re all good. Enjoy your night.”
“Echo, don’t you think he looks pretty in purple?” Wrecker still hasn’t stopped going and he knows Crosshair can’t easily get to him in this crowd.
“Ease up, Wreck. Let’s get back to the ship.” Hunter shoves Crosshair forward, away from the offending citizen.
“I think I’m inclined to agree with Crosshair. I don’t like this holiday.” Tech rubs his fingers over his lenses.
“I don’t know,” Hunter looks him up and down. “Crosshair does look good in purple.”
“Funny.” He keeps trying to wipe off the dye, but he must’ve gotten a bad bag. It’s starting to feel more greasy as he smears it over his armor. Tech can’t seem to get it off his goggles either. When Crosshair glances back at him he’s taken his goggle off, revealing two perfect circles around his eyes. He squints at the damage, oblivious to the fact that he’s by himself.
“Keep up.” Crosshair grabs his elbow and pulls him along, slipping a little in the purple mess on the street.
By the time they get back to the ship, they’re all a little dusty, but none of them look nearly as bad as Crosshair. He drops his armor in the hold, kicks Wrecker in the shin, and takes over the shower.
Echo slips in with fresh clothes for them that he leaves on the small sink.
“Not happy with the new colors?” He climbs in behind him and adds his own wash of murky colors to the bright purple still swirling down the drain.
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” Crosshair sighs and washes his hair out for the second time. Echo runs his fingers through the gray and purses his lips. “Let’s try that one more time.”
“No.” He can feel the panic creep into his chest. Absolutely not. No way is this happening.
“I’m sure it’ll come out eventually.” Echo winces. There’s a pounding on the door and Hunter sticks his head in.
“You two almost done? I need Wrecker to clean up before he drags this stuff over the whole…” he trails off when he finally sees them through the steam.
“We’ll be out in a sec.” Echo is too busy trying to wash along the implants in his head to notice the way Hunter’s eyes were lighting up.
“I’ll try to keep Wrecker still.” Hunter’s smile doesn’t falter even with Crosshair giving him his best glare. He still doesn’t relax after they’re alone again and he’s taken over from Echo, checking to make sure nothing was clogged or irritating the implants.
They pass Wrecker on the way out and he nearly doubles over when he sees Crosshair. Echo had reassured him it wasn’t bad, but the slightly purple tint to his hair was making him wonder how hard it would be to find that man from the street.
“Wrecker, come on.” Hunter tugs off his headband to reveal a perfect strip of clean skin. Tech manages to trip over Gonky before Hunter catches him and steers him to the shower. At least he looks as annoyed as Crosshair felt about the whole thing.
Crosshair starts picking up his armor, lips curled in disgust as he spends the next few minutes wiping away the color. Echo ruffles his hair as he passes. “Stop pouting. I can barely tell.”
“I like it,” Omega sits next to him inspecting her bow. She grins at him and wipes blue hair out of her face. “I hope mine doesn’t wash out.”
“I disagree,” Tech joins them wearing his backup goggles with a crack running down one lens. The cloth he’s using on his good ones has new purple stains.
“Why were they celebrating?”
“I already said.”
“But why do the same thing every year?” Omega looked up from her stained shirt to frown at Tech.
“People celebrate all kinds of things.” Echo doesn’t look up from his own armor. “And they do it in all kinds of ways.”
“But why?”
Echo shrugged, squinting down at his shoulder guard. “Some things are worth remembering every year.”
“Like what?”
Tech cleared his throat. “Common celebrations recognized across multiple systems include Life Day, birthdays, days specific to parenthood-”
“Parenthood?”
“Father’s Day or Mother’s Day. Things of that nature.” Tech went back to his download before she could interrupt again. “There are national holidays to honor specific members of society. Then there are religious holidays and those can be very confusing-”
“But do they throw chalk at people on those days?”
“No, I believe gift giving is customary or a special meal.”
Hunter reappears to give Omega her turn. She didn’t seem too happy about it, but she skipped away, her movements still shadowed with the sound of tiny bells.
“Tech, you ready to take us out of here?”
“Of course.” He finally gets his goggles back in place and stands up glancing down at Crosshair for the first time. “I think you need to wash your hair again.”
“Thanks, Tech.” He glared over at Echo. “If it’s not gone before we leave this ship again I’m shaving it.”
Crosshair was determined to forget the whole thing. Echo was the only reason he didn’t just shave his head. By the time they reached a small port city in the mid rim a week later, his hair only had a slightly purple tint.
He’d been hoping to keep hiding on the ship. Maybe take the time to relax, preferably alone with Echo, but Omega found him before he got a chance.
“Crosshair, I need you for a mission.”
“Am I your first pick?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then you have four other options.”
“No, please, Cross,” she tugged on his arm and looked imploringly up at him. “I want you to take me.”
“Take you where?”
“The market.” She held out a few credits for him.
“Why would I take you there?” He watched her tuck the credits back into her pocket.
“It’s Father’s Day. Or it was. I know I’m a few weeks off, but I want to get something for Hunter.” Crosshair raised an eyebrow. “Can you please take me?”
“Fine,” he said skeptically. “But you’re letting Hunter know I’m taking you. I don’t need him stabbing me for taking you out without permission.”
Omega’s grin was bright enough to light the whole ship.
“Echo already said he’d keep him busy for me.” She pulled him off the ship, pausing to grab his rifle for him on the way out. Tech and Wrecker both watched them go, sharing a confused frown with each other. Crosshair was a little surprised they didn’t try to stop them.
“The market is this way,” she pointed ahead of them, but she didn’t try to run ahead. She had to skip every couple steps to keep up with him until he deliberately slowed his walk.
“What inspired this?” He straightened up once they entered the early morning crowd, keeping an eye out for any potential dangers.
“It’s important to take a moment to show people how much you care. How important they are to your life. I checked the calendar and last week was Father’s Day. I know he isn’t technically my dad, but he takes care of all of us.” She seemed immensely pleased with herself as she led him into the market.
It was still early enough that it wasn’t too crowded. With his height it was easy to keep an eye on Omega while glancing at the stalls and glaring at anyone that came too close to them.
“What exactly are we looking for?” He was already regretting agreeing to spend the day helping Omega buy personal gifts for Hunter.
“Inspiration. I’ll know it when I see it.”
“How long do you think that will take?”
“I have my process.” She stopped and looked up at him. “If you don’t have time I can do this on my own.” She bit her lip and looked around them.
“Don’t be stupid.” He looked back and forth, not knowing where to start. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
Omega smiled gratefully and took his hand in hers, pulling him along. They inch their way past rows of outdoor stalls selling bolts of fabric in combinations of color he’d never seen. Woven tapestries in bold colors next to silks and furs that turn into carts full of droid parts that have come from all corners of the galaxy. The variety is overwhelming to his eyes. He gets distracted but a cart overflowing with crystals and barely catches Omega before she can go into a store with blacked out windows and lewd neon signs. They even pass a cart selling paper books.
Omega spends some time there flipping through pages trying to find something Hunter might like. She peeks at the scattered droid parts and stares hard at a blacksmith’s display of custom blades. Ultimately, she decides they aren’t sentimental enough.
Crosshair wants to disagree. This whole trip is an exercise in sentimentality that he didn’t really understand, but Omega seemed to know what she was talking about.
By then they’ve found themselves between the food vendors and the flower merchants. The sun beats down on his black armor, but he’s a sniper. He’s trained to ignore the elements. Omega clearly doesn’t have his discipline. She lets out an exhausted breath and pushes sweaty bangs out of her eyes.
“Let’s take a break.” He stops her from going any further and leads her to a vendor they passed that was selling frozen treats. “Come on.”
Omega jogs after him and licks her lips when she sees where he’s taking her. He steps back to let her order for herself. From here he can see the rows of flowers packed in baskets. The local fauna was mostly in shades of blue and purple, but he could see a few bright spots of yellow further down.
“Here,” Omega elbows him and pressed a cone into his hand. “I got you jogan fruit.”
He took the cone on instinct, but he felt ridiculous standing in the street holding a child’s treat. Glancing around half expecting the man serving the treats to be laughing, he quickly followed Omega back to a gap between stalls and they both take a seat on the curb. She’s nearly finished with hers when he tentatively tries his.
It’s easily the sweetest thing he’s every tasted, but the cold feels good in this heat. Omega slides a little closer and rests her head on his arm. She doesn’t say anything when he tenses up. Just continues licking her treat. When she smiles at a loth cat sneaking food out of a trash bin he sees her lips and tongue are both stained purple.
He watches Omega hold her cone out for the cat and decides there that purple isn’t the worst color.