Chapter Text
Omega is Hunter’s top priority. Maybe that’s obvious to everyone else, but Hunter doesn’t really come to terms with the fact until the Batch is safely back on Ord Mantell, in Cid’s Parlor, and all he can focus on is Omega crying in the corner. She’s doing a pretty good job of pretending not to cry, though. It seems to fool Wrecker, who approaches her and says something Hunter can’t hear over the noise of the other patrons. After a moment, Omega stands and laughs weakly at something Wrecker says before heading to the dejarik board.
Omega is Hunter’s top priority. Because instead of feeling proud of Echo for doing what he thought was right, Hunter is angry. Angry that Echo left, angry that he didn’t do more to make him stay, and most of all, angry that Omega is sad. He’s angry that she’s trying to hide her tears. She deserves better than this squad, but Hunter came to terms with that long ago. He's particularly angry at Echo for leaving Omega after what Crosshair did, and he wonders, not for the first time, how her experiences now will affect her later in life.
He knows it’s foolish to be mad at Echo; he was right, after all. There are other clones out there who need help, and Rex can’t do it alone. Hunter is angriest at himself. For all his amplified instincts, he hadn’t seen this coming. He should have. He knows now why he ignored Echo’s obvious displeasure with the banal missions Cid had been giving them. He wants Echo around. Simple as that.
Hunter leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his water—he doesn’t trust himself to drink, not right now. Actually, he knows it isn’t as simple as that, and maybe Echo knows it too. Hunter told him to remember his words. He doesn’t know how to make his feelings any clearer than that.
Omega is suddenly next to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Hunter, I’m going back to the Marauder.”
Hunter thinks she doesn’t sound great, but then again, how should he know? He sits up and studies her face. Her eyes are still swollen.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, surprising himself. Maybe he’s getting better at this whole “raising a child” thing after all.
Omega shakes her head. “I’ll eat something on board.”
Hunter raises a suspicious eyebrow and stands. “Mantell Mix doesn’t count as dinner.”
“Ah, come on!” Wrecker groans from the doorway to the Parlor, where he’s holding two cartons of the treat.
Hunter peers down into Omega’s dejected face and cringes inwardly. She’s had a rough day too. He sighs. “Alright, then. Come on.”
Omega smiles at him, but it’s not as bright as usual.
“Everything’s in good order,” Tech says from where he's seated at the control panel when they step into the Marauder.
“I’ll see what Cid’s got for us tomorrow,” Hunter murmurs, wandering into the cockpit. He feels purely and completely lost, and he doesn’t like it. He has to pull himself together. This is ridiculous, it’s not like Echo dropped out of the galaxy. They’re always running into Rex, so they’ll always see Echo too. Hunter is a leader. Wrecker, Tech, and Omega need him to be strong.
But Hunter needs Echo, and he didn’t think he’d have to lead without him.
Without really knowing what he’s doing, Hunter grits his teeth, spins around, and marches back into the cabin. Wrecker and Omega are munching on Mantell Mix and talking quietly, for once. Tech looks up from where he's still fiddling with the ship’s control panel. Hunter meets Tech’s gaze and holds it. After a moment, Tech nods once and flips his visor over his eyes.
“Wrecker, I need your help with something in the cockpit.”
Wrecker looks up, confused. “But I thought you said the ship was fine.”
“I lied,” Tech calls drily from the front of the ship.
Wrecker blinks, then shrugs and follows him. Hunter is grateful for Tech’s intuition. An outsider might think that his practicality outweighs his perception, but that’s hardly the case; sometimes Hunter thinks Tech knows his brothers better than they know themselves.
“Hunter?” Omega asks quietly. “What’s going on?”
Hunter looks down at her and sighs. It feels like he’s done that a lot today. He’s tired. Maybe he shouldn’t do this now. But Omega still looks like she’s been crying, and she clutches her stuffed tooka to her chest like her life depends on it.
“We’re going to talk to Echo,” he says, pressing a few buttons on the holoprojector.
Omega is at his side in a moment. “Why do we need to talk to Echo?”
Hunter hesitates. “I miss him,” he says honestly. He knows he will never be able to lie to Omega.
“But…he just left.”
“Don’t you want to talk to him?”
Omega nods vigorously. Hunter smiles at her and patches their connection through. A holographic Rex fizzles into view over the projector.
“Hunter,” he says, sounding uncertain. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Hunter says. He’s aware of Omega looking up at him, and he realizes that he just unconsciously flipped the switch to alert soldier. He tries to relax his stance a bit. He doesn’t belong to the Republic anymore, and he certainly doesn't belong to the Empire. “Could we talk to Echo?”
Omega steps into Hunter’s space and Rex’s face softens. “Yeah, of course. Hold on.”
He disappears and is replaced by Echo a moment later. Hunter watches as Omega’s face brightens—a real smile this time. “Echo!”
“Hi, Omega.” Echo grins. “Miss me already?”
“Yup.” Hunter feels Omega’s tiny hand slide into his, and his heart warms. “Hunter misses you too.”
“Does he now.” Echo’s grin slips, and now they’re just staring at each other. Hunter wonders if it was a good idea to bring Omega into this. He reminds himself that there are no secrets in this family, and he squeezes Omega’s hand.
“We didn’t…get to talk, really—”
“I remember what you said,” Echo says quickly. Omega looks up at Hunter curiously.
“I know,” Hunter says a little too loudly. “How long are you planning to stay with Rex?”
Echo’s eyes follow a movement in front of him, and Hunter figures Rex has left the room. “We went over this, Hunter. I don’t know. As long as I’m needed.”
“What did you say?” Omega chooses now to ask.
“Well,” Hunter says quietly, keeping his eyes on Echo’s, “I told Echo that I care about him. And that he’ll always be a part of our family.”
Echo visibly stiffens. But there’s something soft in his eyes, now that Hunter is looking more carefully. “That’s not quite what you said.”
“I care about you too, Echo,” Omega says happily, but she’s pouting. “I wish you were here.”
“Me too,” Echo says, and Hunter’s head snaps up. “But I can’t be.” He locks eyes with Hunter. “There are so many others out there.” He turns to Omega again. “Your brothers. Our brothers. They’re in danger right now, and I can’t just stand by and watch.”
“Is that what you think we’re doing?” The words are out before Hunter realizes they came from his mouth. He feels the hot wave of anger from before rise in his chest. “Standing by?”
Echo squints at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?” Hunter mutters. “We’re all wanted by the Empire. What I’m doing is keeping the squad safe.”
Echo just shakes his head. “We’re different people, Hunter.”
“We share a damn face,” Hunter spits. “To the rest of the galaxy, we’re exactly the same.”
“But you’re different on the inside,” Omega chirps, and Hunter freezes. He almost forgot she was here. Despite her cheerful tone, she’s squeezing his hand so tightly that he wonders if his circulation is cut off, and he realizes that this is hurting her more than Echo leaving did. He rubs his thumb over the back of Omega’s hand, and she loosens her grip.
“I’m sorry, Echo. I—”
Only he doesn’t know what to say, so he pushes his other hand over his face and tries not to cry.
“Echo,” Omega says slowly. “I think what Hunter’s trying to say is that we want you to be safe, and that’s hard for clones right now. So be careful, okay?”
Echo doesn’t respond, so Hunter looks up to see that the sadness in his eyes has grown.
“I can’t promise that,” Echo says softly. “This is bigger than all of us. Hunter,” he says abruptly, and steps closer to his projector. “This is bigger than you and me.”
Omega tugs involuntarily at Hunter’s fingers.
“I—I know that,” he stammers. “But—”
“I remember, Hunter,” Echo says, and chuckles. “It’s gonna be alright, yeah? I’ll come back one day, if I can. But I won’t be careful in the meantime. I’m fighting for Omega’s future.” Omega sucks in a sharp breath. “And for the future of every clone. I don’t blame you, Hunter. Don’t ever think I do.”
“Well—try to be safe,” Hunter mumbles.
Echo’s grin returns. “Yeah, I’ll try.” He looks up again. “I’ve got to go. But Hunter, what you said?”
Hunter nods once, and holds his breath.
“I know. And yes.”
The hologram buzzes out.
Hunter is very still. It’s all he can do right now.
“Hunter?” Omega says very slowly. “What did you say to him?”
He pauses. “I already told you.” He wonders if she'll buy it, even though it's the truth.
Omega just looks up at him and tilts her head to one side. “Are you mad at Echo for leaving?”
“A little bit,” Hunter admits.
“Oh.” Omega chews on that for a few seconds. “I don’t think you should be mad.”
Hunter smiles. “I think you’re right.”
Just then, Wrecker enters the cabin, stretching his shoulders. “Wow, I didn’t know the hyperdrive could do that!”
“Me neither,” mumbles a frazzled-looking Tech from behind him. He meets Hunter’s eyes and raises an eyebrow. Hunter smiles in gratitude as Omega releases his hand to return to her Mantell Mix in the corner.
Hunter watches as Omega throws a kernel in the air for Wrecker to catch. He watches Tech look on with a wry but fond twist of his mouth. He peers through the windows of the cockpit at the orange Ord Mantell sunset. And he is grateful for his family, wherever they are in the galaxy.