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Hunter woke up feeling sick, but he and his squad were on day three of a mission tracking down a Separatist operative, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, why would he let his squad get worried about him? It was his job to worry about them.
He told himself it was just a little stomach upset. Maybe those drinks with Crosshair the night before had been a bad idea. Currently he was only in half his armor, and standing by his rack, legs a bit shaky, nausea so bad he worried that if he moved he’d throw up.
Suddenly he didn’t have a choice about moving or not moving because Wrecker came over and punched him in the shoulder, giving him what Wrecker considered a little shove.
“We are so getting this guy today!” Wrecker said. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes we’ve got him surrounded.”
All Hunter could do was stand there, trying to take deep breaths, but not opening his mouth.
“Mm.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he got out, and regretted even speaking.
Crosshair came over from the cockpit, and raised an eyebrow when he saw him.
“Wrecker, leave him alone. You know he’s grumpy in the morning.”
Hunter breathed a sigh of relief as Wrecker decided to move on, believing Crosshair’s lie.
Once he was gone, lovingly annoying Tech and Echo over in the cockpit, Crosshair asked, “Too many drinks?”
“I barely got drunk,” Hunter argued, even while he stood there, sweating and sick.
“You did try that new one they only make on this planet.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be fine.”
Crosshair shrugged and decided he didn’t feel like talking anymore.
Hunter finished putting his armor on, moving so slow that by the time he took a seat next to Tech in the pilot’s seat, everyone was almost done eating their rations. Tech handed him his.
Great. Food.
“I’m not hungry,” he let him know, giving it back.
Tech looked at him a bit longer than normal, but eventually decided to accept it.
They’d managed to get word that the operative was on the other side of the planet, holing up somewhere underground.
The “underground” part of their info was vague seeing as this planet had more caves than could be reasonably counted. Most weren’t man-made (therefore uncharted), but some were. There were other parts that were natural but had been mined.
Hunter resisted holding onto his seat as they took off. The force of their acceleration against the planet’s gravity gave him vertigo, like he was falling out of existence, and his poor stomach was left back on the ground.
Somehow he had enough sense to hold in a moan, and he didn’t even tip sideways, most of his body knowing how he was supposed to be oriented, even if his head didn’t.
Once the acceleration dropped Hunter felt a bit more like a person again, but not by much.
He glanced over at Tech, hoping he wasn’t in the mood for any crazy flying maneuvers today.
Besides, there were flight control towers peppering the service, scanning any ships in the area. If Tech flew the way he really liked to at least one Separatist in the towers or back in the control center would think something was off. Currently, the Marauder had a scrambled signature, so they were free to go wherever they liked here.
Hunter tried to keep up with the conversation as they talked about what their job would be with landing, and what it’d be like on the ground. His thinking wasn’t the best today, so he was glad he had the others to chime in on the points where his plan was weaker.
“Do you think we actually have the right intel?” Echo asked. “What if this is a trap?”
Wrecker laughed. “I love traps.”
“No, you don’t,” Crosshair argued, tone as scathing as ever.
“I do!” he insisted.
Crosshair didn’t respond, which seemed to annoy Wrecker to no end (which was probably the plan); he was practically fuming, hands balled into fists.
“We’ll do recon before we go in, keep it nice and quiet. And if it’s the wrong place, we just keep trying,” Hunter said.
“If it is a trap they could know we’re coming,” Tech said. “They might try to shoot us down before we even land.”
“Aren’t we all being a little paranoid?” Wrecker asked.
“It’s a Separatist world,” Echo argued. “We’re supposed to be paranoid. This way it means we’re ready for anything.”
“Oran Tane could suspect someone’s coming for him.” Tech pointed out “He’s supposed to be more paranoid than we are.”
“Wait,” Wrecker said, “I thought his name was Oro Tanee.”
Tech rolled his eyes, and pushed his goggles back up his nose. Hunter was glad he did it for him because he worried if he rolled his eyes he’d collapse.
“Can you listen for once?” Crosshair said.
Wrecker shoved him so hard he fell out of his seat.
Crosshair clambered up, swearing.
Hunter inwardly sighed, and resisted hanging his head.
He stood up to get in between them and stop this nonsense, but when he did the vertigo hit again—the worst he’d had in his whole life. It was as if the ship were spinning, about to fling him off, as if the whole galaxy were swirling and pulling everything in.
He only stayed standing by telling his legs they knew how to balance, that his head was the only thing that was off.
It took a bit more work in his legs to stay standing, and for some reason that tired his muscles out much more than he’d expected.
Just to be safe, he grabbed onto the seats. “Stow it,” he ordered. “We can’t be distracted for this.”
Wrecker leaned back in his seat. “Oh, come on, it’s a long flight.”
“Anything past a minute is too long for you,” Crosshair told him as he got back into his seat, resolutely putting a toothpick in his mouth.
Wrecker growled, cracking his knuckles. Crosshair, as usual, looked like he would kill your whole family without a single care.
“Don’t make me throw this at you,” he threatened with his toothpick.
Hunter shoved both of their heads.
“Get it together.”
After giving each what he hoped was his usual hard, commanding look he went to go sit back down by Tech, somehow ignoring that turning made him feel like his head was about to roll right off.
Hunter stretched out his legs, and leaned his head back, sighing.
That’s when a toothpick hit him in the back of the head.
He just closed his eyes, trying to ignore it.
“Okay, Mom.”
There was a sound like a light slap, probably Echo trying to get Crosshair under control (what was even making him so talkative today?).
A few moments of silence passed, save for the engine rumbling, and Tech murmured, “Great, I’m working with children.”
“Everyone back on task,” Hunter ordered.
That shut them up for at least a few minutes. Hunter, feeling more nauseous than before, did anything he could to just focus on any talk of the mission.
He wondered if anyone would notice the sweat on his face. Tech kept glancing over at him.
For now they just flew over the craggy landscape of pink salt, passing caves, and masses of water tinted red, the orange sky looking like a perpetual sunset.
The orange eventually deepened as they flew towards the dark side of the planet. It turned into night, the shadows of caves looking like deep black pockets of cold nothingness.
“This is cheery,” Tech commented.
At the moment, Hunter couldn’t tell if he meant that literally, or if he was joking. Tech liked some pretty interesting things.
They passed a tower, Tech having to put in a clearance code.
None of them seemed to breathe as they waited for a response.
Time seemed to stretch on. No word. Nothing.
“All right, S3-27, you’re all clear.”
The whole cockpit sighed save for Hunter.
Something was wrong. That had taken far too long. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure he knew the right words, and wasn’t sure if he would throw up or not. There was an itching on the back of his neck that urged him to let his squad know they could be in danger, but at the moment, he felt like his mind was stretching and stretching, pulling him apart, like he wasn’t even a person.
They passed the tower, Tech killed the thrusters, and used the acceleration change to turn, coming in for a landing. Hunter almost lurched to the fresher from the turn, but wasn’t sure if he’d collapse upon getting up.
He was glad Tech had picked the landing site he himself would’ve chosen, touching down behind a massive hill, and just outside of the multiple openings of a cavern. They were well away from any of the towers or satellites.
But his stomach clenched at what he knew would come next.
“Crosshair, Tech, you’re with me for recon.”
“Why do I never get picked for recon?” Wrecker complained.
Hunter admitted, “You’re too loud. You hate stealth. Just stay here with Echo.” He scanned the area outside the viewport. “And get some grenades ready in case we need to collapse any of these caverns.”
Crosshair got off first, and Tech was fiddling with his datapad on the steps.
Hunter really wanted to lie he needed the fresher, but they had a mission to complete.
As he put his helmet on, all of it suddenly making things feel too close, like they were pressing down on him, he forced out, “Tech, how’s the scan for lifeforms?”
“I’m picking up something, but it seems too hot to be human, and too large.”
Hunter tried to frown, but found that his face felt cottony, and wasn’t working right.
“Picking up any droids?” he managed to ask. Was his voice a bit slurred?
“None.”
“Keep checking.
“Cross, I want you up on that hill,” he said, somehow managing to lift his arm and point southeast of the Marauder, from the direction they came in. “Let me know if you see anything.”
He turned back to Tech. “So… so where’s this lifeform you’re picking up?”
“North, probably in the caves.”
Hunter somehow managed to walk forward, even as he felt like the planet’s magnetic poles were doing a rapid switch.
He crouched down, shining a light close to the cave entrance. Salt was different than the usual terrain he worked with, but he could sense that there had been footprints leading to the cave. Big ones with a lot of claws.
He didn’t like that, and liked even less that there seemed to be no sign of any other humans.
Face feeling more cottony, tongue big in his mouth and throat, he took his helmet off. The air was sharp and dry, and one breath had his throat itching, and getting tight. Still, he smelled the air. Even with new scents mixed in, he still recognized human. There was nothing but his brothers’ scents, and something acrid and musky.
“Crosshair, you seeing anything?” he wheezed out over comms.
“Nothing.”
And he heard no other heartbeats but their own.
“Do you think we had bad intel?” Tech asked.
“Could be. Let’s—”
The unmistakable sound of clanking metal reached Hunter’s ears from the west.
He rose, twirling, and then was glad he had his helmet off already because he threw up.
Hunter then collapsed onto his backside, the shifting salt too difficult to balance in.
“What’s wrong with Hunter?” Crosshair called. “Hunter?”
“Stay at your position,” he heard Tech order Crosshair.
Hunter felt puffy, itchy. His lips burned like someone had dumped a chemical on them.
A high-pitched wheeze, almost sounding like an astromech, came from him.
Interesting.
As he fell back he wished he could order Crosshair and Tech to get to the Marauder, wished he could tell them they were in danger.
Tech rushed to his side, and was on his knees beside him, flashlight moving up and down his body before lingering on his face.
“Echo, bring the medkit. Now!” Then to Hunter, “Tell me if you can breathe or not.”
“Maybe… a little.”
“Try swallowing.”
Hunter lay there, looking up into Tech’s face, the strange night sky full of stars he didn’t know the names of, trying in vain to swallow. He did, but barely.
“Ow,” he muttered. “Oh no… gonna be—”
Tech rolled him onto his side just in time for Hunter to be sick. He all but choked on it, throat burning, eyes watering.
Echo was running over.
“Droids,” Hunter tried to say, hearing them getting closer and closer, even as the world started to float away, as his throat swelled even more.
He wasn’t sure the word came out.
“Hey, everyone, not to be a downer, but we have a problem.”
“You’re always a downer,” Wrecker argued.
So, they were close enough for Crosshair to spot.
“Not now!” Echo admonished as he knelt by Hunter beside Tech, opening the medkit.
Hunter couldn’t breathe, throat swollen. His lungs were pleading for air, his head swimming.
And even with his brothers here he was so afraid. He wanted someone to fix this, to tell him he was going to be all right, maybe even to hold him.
He was dying—that was the only explanation.
“Get me the epipen,” Tech ordered.
“Got it.”
“We have droids incoming,” Crosshair stated. “A whole company.”
Echo paused.
Tech brushed his hand aside and grabbed the injector.
Huh, kinda looks like a computer spike, Hunter somehow had the presence of mind to think.
“Wrecker, get out here. We’ll need you to carry Hunter.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“One moment.”
Tech all but ripped off Hunter’s armor, and then jabbed the epipen into his thigh. At first he was shocked that it didn’t hurt.
And then the pain kicked in, and he would’ve groaned if he could actually breathe. Hunter knew he was tough, but this was the most painful injection of his life. It ached. How deep did that thing go? Were thighs really that sensitive over there?
“Crosshair, get back here. We need to retreat,” Echo said, up and scanning the area.
“Already on it.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tech admonished. After a few seconds of silence in which the swelling in Hunter’s throat started to go down, and he took in a blessed breath, Tech said, “Right. You can’t speak yet. Just give it a few more moments.”
Red blaster bolts cut through the dark. A strange screech echoed out from the tunnels.
“That’s not good.” Tech said.
Wrecker came over, throwing a grenade at the droids. Crosshair fired as it reached its destination, making it go off faster. Fire burst through the night, metal raining down. Crosshair rushed over to them, rifle on target.
Wrecker was about to grab Hunter, but Tech knocked his arm aside.
“Wait, I’m making sure I did the right thing.”
“What’s happening?”
“Allergic reaction. I think.”
Oh, he thinks? Though, Tech tended to be right ninety-nine percent of the time, so Hunter was probably all right.
He wheezed as air made it to the lower part of his lungs, but he was just glad to be breathing.
Echo, and Crosshair set up a protective line in front of them, but the closest cave mouth was unguarded.
“To what?” Wrecker asked.
“Try swallowing again,” Tech ordered Hunter.
He was so relieved when he did, and he was sure each breath felt like the purest, most beautiful breath he’d ever taken, even with the harsh, salt air.
The burning itch in his face was going down.
“They work… that fast?” he asked.
“Yes.” Then to Wrecker: “He probably had a reaction to something he drank last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hunter and Crosshair went out drinking.”
“You went out drinking? Without me?”
“It’s okay, I wasn’t invited either.”
“You… were,” Hunter argued.
“No, you just said…” He pressed a button on his recorder and then Hunter was forced to listen to his own voice saying, We’re going out for a drink. Tech switched it off. “That is not a direct invitation.”
“It was supposed to be. Whatever.”
Hunter sat up, headache and vertigo feeling a bit better. His heart hammered in his chest.
“I… I think I can stand,” he said, even though his face was still a bit puffy, and he felt so weak.
“No. Wrecker can—”
Something barreled out from the cave, the stench almost enough to clog Hunter’s throat, and he actually threw up again, Tech shuffling back out of range.
For a second Echo and Crosshair were distracted.
“What in the kriffing hell is that?!” Echo screamed, backing away, and almost getting himself shot in the process.
Wrecker leaped over Hunter and met the creature head-on, letting out a battle cry.
When they saw Wrecker had it engaged, and after a few too-close shots, they went back to firing at the droids.
Hunter turned, trying to get a look at the thing they’d disturbed, the sky slowly lightening above them letting him see some details. The creature was probably a good meter taller than Wrecker, covered in red spines that might’ve been as long as Hunter’s middle finger. It had one mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth, and two jaws, so when its mouth opened it split in the bottom middle. It had three limbs like arms, one coming out of its chest, and two legs. All were thick with muscle, and ended in claws the length of Hunter’s entire hand. The thing had more eyes than Hunter could count, or even wanted to. The iris was like a spiked ball, and trying to focus on any one of them made his eyes water.
Wrecker was shoved back by the beast, which screeched at him, a long, thin tongue coming out of its mouth. As a response Wrecker literally screeched back and then put his full effort into keeping it away from Hunter. It tried to gnaw on Wrecker’s arm, but his armor was too thick. Still, Hunter thought he could hear a crack from where he was.
Errant blaster bolts from droids hit the beast, and it twisted (throwing Wrecker, scratching and denting his armor with one of its arms). The bolts didn’t seem to penetrate, only making it angry.
The droids were close enough now that Hunter wanted to get up and fight. (Or run.) They could kill all of them out here in the open like this.
He tried get up, and slipped and fell back down. He resisted the urge to clutch at his head or stomach.
Even while firing a pistol with one arm, kneeling on one knee to balance better, Tech asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Head hurts still. I think I have vertigo.”
“And your stomach?”
“Hurts.”
Wrecker got back up, and drew his vibro-blade, the machete humming and glowing with orange light. He charged the beast.
Echo and Crosshair lobbed droid poppers.
They landed, setting off bursts of electricity that Hunter felt like a frisson along his spine and in the back of his head. It was a feeling he was used to, yet right now it just made him want to claw part of his brain out. The droids fell.
“Right. Take over,” Tech said, handing his pistol to Hunter, who was now lying on his stomach, propped up on an elbow. “And don’t shoot anyone!”
“Ha ha.”
He searched for something else in the medkit and came out with another injector.
Meanwhile, Hunter had only managed to take down one droid so far, and not even the one he’d been aiming for.
“And where does that one go?”
“Normally I’d like to give it through an IV, but, well, you’re not going to like this.”
“Just do it.”
He collapsed as he felt the world tipping again.
Tech found the clasp on his shebs, and Hunter wanted to argue, but didn’t have it in him.
Wrecker stabbed the creature in the mouth, and it died with a horrible scream that seemed to shake Hunter’s teeth and reverberate in his chest.
A needle went into his ass.
“This one will probably make you… emotional.”
“I’m emotional right now!” Hunter argued, pissed there was a needle in his ass.
“Almost done.”
He grunted at the pain, and watched in bewilderment as Wrecker came into his firing range, dragging the beast with him.
He almost threw up from the stench again, its blood steaming and stinking even more.
“What are you doing?”
“Cover. Hey, Echo, Crosshair, get back here.”
“No, farther out,” Hunter argued. “Don’t let them cut us off from the ship.”
“Aw, man.”
Wrecker started rolling the thing away, salt melting and dissolving from the trails of blood.
Echo twirled, getting behind it, and continuing to fire. Crosshair never once took his eyes off the droids, backing up and side-stepping.
For some reason Hunter felt the needle hurt as it came out, and he clenched his jaw.
“You done now?”
“You’re the one who didn’t tell us you felt sick. We could have done this earlier,” Tech pointed out, righting his armor for him.
Hunter wanted to argue, but he knew Tech was right.
“Can you stand?”
“Let’s see.”
Hunter gave Tech back his pistol, and clambered to his feet. He almost fell over.
After Wrecker lobbed another grenade at the B1s and B2s, he was called back over to help Hunter walk.
The grenade never went off.
A whistling filled the graying pre-dawn air.
Kriff.
“Vulture droids. Find cover!”
The B1s and B2s cut them off from the ship.
“To the caves!” Tech called, grabbing Hunter’s helmet for him.
Hunter didn’t like it, but he knew it was all they could do for now. Wrecker rushed over and picked him up with one arm, taking point. The others rushed after him.
Vulture droids filled the air.
Firing fell behind them, explosions throwing them forward. Hunter toppled over Wrecker’s shoulder, and a formation of packed salt dug hard into his back. The salt exploded like glass, the cave entrance fell in.
Darkness surrounded them.
Hunter’s heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest. It was making him shaky.
He groaned, rolling over, and got on his hands and knees. He searched for a flashlight, and his helmet. He found the latter, and dumped about half a kilo of salt out of it, before putting it on. Thankfully with his face less swollen his sense of claustrophobia had subsided.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked. “Anyone hurt? Check in.”
He didn’t smell blood, and everyone's heart rate sounded okay, if only elevated from the fighting and adrenaline. He found a flashlight and turned it on, seeing his men clamber to their feet.
“Here,” Echo called, turning on a flashlight. “I’m not hurt.”
“Here. All good.” Crosshair.
“Here,” Tech responded. “I’m fine, but there’s salt driven into my datapad.”
More flashlights turned on, and in their beams Hunter could see Tech smacking his datapad along one side and shaking salt out of it.
“Oh no, your precious datapad,” Crosshair teased.
“I’d mapped this cave from above as we came in, using thermal airways, and was going to use the info on my datapad to get us out if we needed to! And ah, would you look at that, we need to.”
“Wrecker?” Hunter asked.
There was a groan and Wrecker sat up. Salt fell off of him in a million tiny, pink rivulets.
“Here. I’m fine. Though that thing ruined my armor.”
“You mean your badly scratched armor, or do you mean your other armor?”
“I don’t have any other armor.”
“Crosshair, knock it off.”
He sighed and rested his rifle against his shoulder.
“That thing by the way,” Tech began to inform them as he removed a piece from his datapad, letting more salt fall out, “was a Tiqral. An adolescent one, by the look of it. I had no idea that they could live here. Usually they prefer solid rock, especially since it eats—”
“I know what it eats,” Wrecker said. “It was gonna eat me.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was.”
“No, it—”
“Guys, cut it out,” Echo begged.
Hunter said, “We could try digging ourselves out if you don’t get your datapad working, Tech.”
“Won’t the droids still be on the other side?” Echo asked.
As if in response, the cavern shook, blasts coming from beyond the wall.
“Our ship is on the other side,” Crosshair hissed.
Hunter sat down at that. Stars, he couldn’t think.
It took a lot, but he finally admitted, “I don’t feel good.”
“It’ll take the steroid I injected you with a few minutes to start working, but it’ll take two rotations to fully be in your system. And don’t worry if you can’t think that well. You have brain swelling.”
That thought nearly frightened Hunter so much it just about gave him vertigo all on its own.
“Oh, great.”
“How is that great?”
“I think he was being sarcastic,” Echo replied, tone gentle.
“Oh, of course.”
After shaking more salt out of his datapad, and putting that one piece back on, it lit up.
“Ah, I think I got it.” From here Hunter could see the screen go completely blank, and then return to normal. “Mostly. But I do see a route out of here. It’s quick, and leads back to the Marauder.”
“Let’s go, then,” Hunter said.
“Shouldn’t we try digging out?” Wrecker asked. “I mean, our ship’s out there. They could be destroying it as we speak.”
“Depends on if a tactical droid or a human is paying attention to this,” Echo said, knowing far too much about their tactics, having been giving them out just a few months ago. “I think if we keep them focused on us, it’s possible they’re too stupid to destroy our ship. They could think killing us is the only way we won’t get off this planet.”
“I don’t think we have a good fighting chance all on the same front,” Tech said. “Especially with Hunter as he is.”
From the light only knew where, Crosshair found another toothpick and flicked it at Hunter.
Hunter said nothing, feeling too much like he deserved this for being an idiot and not speaking up. Shame heated his insides.
Tech went over to the caved in wall and started examining it, even as it shook, salt raining down. “Wrecker, if you place charges, here, here, and here,” he said, pointing the positions out with a finger, “we can set off a controlled reaction that’ll get us through. Meanwhile, we split up and a couple of us take the route I’ve discovered. That way we can outflank the droids. If we hit them from both sides at the same time, I’d say we have a good chance of getting out of here alive.”
“Aren’t they weakening the wall already?”
“Yes, but we can break through it faster. Unless of course they send a tank.”
“Lovely,” Echo commented.
“So they might just send more droids before we can get on the ship,” Hunter surmised. “What do we do?” he found himself asking, the words burning his tongue.
Tech thought for a few seconds, and they all found themselves leaning in.
He shrugged, and they collectively groaned.
“If you and Wrecker get to the ship first,” Echo said, “you can defend us from the air.”
“But I like defending us from the ground,” Wrecker pointed out.
“He is pretty good at that,” Crosshair admitted, the most miniscule change from his usual tone suggesting he was coming to Wrecker’s aid.
“I could reroute auxiliary power to operate our forward guns,” Tech suggested.
“So who stays and who goes?” Hunter asked, knowing they had to decide quickly. It was possible they had already spent too much time figuring this out.
If he was at the top of his game he could’ve done this in maybe a minute.
He hung his head.
“Wrecker stays, I’ll go,” Tech said. “Hunter, why don’t you stay here? I don’t think it a good idea for you to be walking a lot just yet. Crosshair, you can stay. Echo, that leaves you with me.”
Hunter didn’t see a problem with this, and once he agreed the others quickly followed suit.
He wanted to think he was humble, that he would be all right with another taking charge—and Tech was doing a phenomenal job—but he found his cheeks heating. Well, he hoped they were doing that from shame, not from more swelling.
The longer he sat here though, the better he felt. Not a lot better, but he no longer felt like he was dying.
Tech and Echo headed off, yet their voices echoed back to them softly.
Wrecker was already placing charges.
And Crosshair, well, Hunter had the impression that he was staring at him.
“That was a pretty stupid move, Sarge,” Crosshair said, though he came to help him move to a safer spot in the cave just the same.
Did he mean..? Oh, his allergic reaction.
“I thought I’d be okay,” Hunter snapped.
“Well, obviously you weren’t. And look where we are now! We don’t even know if our ship is in one piece.”
“What do you want me to do? Go back in time, change what I did?”
Crosshair sat him down roughly behind a section of wall, and shoved him a bit for good measure. Yet he held Hunter up when he almost tipped over from vertigo.
“At least learn from this.”
Hunter glared.
“You too.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t want the rest of us to realize you’re human. How many times have you kept things to yourself so we wouldn’t fuss over you?”
“Oh, please. At least I don’t have to lead us.”
“You think that’s an excuse? You’re part of this team, too, whether you like it or not. So why don’t you act like it?”
Hunter stood, not liking Crosshair looking so far down at him, as his anger started to take hold. He ignored the vertigo, telling his muscles they knew what they were doing.
Crosshair didn’t step back.
“Say that again.”
“You’ve been acting like a smartass all day, and bringing down morale.”
“I think the low morale is from you being sick.”
“As if you all knew.”
“We knew something must’ve been wrong! Do you think we’re stupid? That you’re the smartest one because you’re the leader and we’re just supposed to blindly follow you?”
Hunter shoved Crosshair. “Of course not! You’re all important to this team!”
“Then act like it.”
“You act like it!”
Hunter started trying to grapple Crosshair, but he blocked him with his rifle. His grip was tight, suggesting he might’ve just been bringing up his rifle to shove him.
Suddenly, a big hand was pulling each of them apart.
“Stop fighting!” Wrecker admonished.
Hunter growled with his aching throat. Crosshair was probably sneering.
He crossed his arms, and sat back down.
“Tech, Echo, the charges are ready to be set,” Wrecker informed them, though he was still carefully watching Crosshair and Hunter.
“We’re almost there,” Echo said, a slight pant in his voice, and was that… water he heard against his helmet?
“Uh, where are you?” Hunter asked.
“Because of Tech’s stupid route—”
“It’s not stupid.”
“—we’re swimming. You know the water here looks like blood?”
“Is that really important right now?” Tech asked.
“Yes! I’m covered in it!”
“So… are you almost there? Hunter and Crosshair are fighting.”
“Hunter, did you forget I had said that injection would make you emotional?” Tech asked.
Hunter resisted the urge to say something rude, or roll his eyes.
Crosshair gave a soft laugh, which really made Hunter want to get back up and punch him.
“Those charges take thirty seconds to go off, correct?” Tech clarified.
“Yeah.”
“Set them now. We’ll see you soon.”
Wrecker went to do so, and when a slight beeping filled the cavern he came back over, and suggested they all get down. At least there was a wall between them and the charges.
Thirty seconds seemed too slow as the cavern shook around them, as more salt threatened to come down.
And it seemed too quick. Hunter couldn’t fight. He was practically useless. Still, he grabbed his blaster, trying to get ready. His hands shook. Sweat poured down his face. His breathing was harsh.
When the charges went off, the fire of them was so bright, Hunter closed his eyes. He cowered down, arms over his head, which was good because packed salt was now hitting his hands and arms. He nearly dropped his blaster.
Heat seared his back, the force of the explosion pushing him down more.
The fiery sound roared around him.
And then, he heard the droids, who had stopped blasting in their sudden confusion, but were shifting.
The orange light of dawn beamed into the cavern.
“Go, go!” Wrecker called.
To Hunter’s surprise, he grabbed him, and threw him over one shoulder again, running out to meet the droids.
“What the kriff are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here.”
“I can walk.”
“Uh uh.”
Hunter twisted from his hold, dropping to one knee back outside.
He almost toppled from vertigo.
“Idiot,” Crosshair admonished.
To his left he could see that the Marauder was still intact.
Hunter started firing, and his aim was at least a bit better than a few minutes ago. Still, the best he could do was hit their bodies dead center, and he missed over half the time.
From the west he could see explosions as Tech and Echo assaulted the droids.
A vulture droid was swooping down, trying to shoot at his squad.
Running with his instinct, Hunter holstered his blaster, and launched himself at the vulture droid. He found a grip near the top, but it flipped over, trying to dislodge him.
“What are you doing?” Echo cried.
Hunter couldn’t answer, doing his best to just hold on, struggling to breathe from all the forces against him. The brightening sky and the battle below rotated in his vision.
He reached up with a leg, hooking it over one of the droid’s legs, and he reached for his knife.
He grunted as he had to dodge a blast from the vulture droid, the force of it nearly shaking him off.
His leg came free.
He managed to stab the droid right in the neck.
But now it was going down, smoking pouring right into his face.
Was that the Marauder flying next to him? Tech had gotten onboard already?
“Need a lift?” Tech asked, the ramp lowering.
Hunter dropped from the smoking droid, and his top half hit the ramp, knocking precious air out of him. He managed to hang on.
Thankfully, Tech didn’t do anything crazy until Hunter was successfully on board, kneeling in the cockpit, panting, and barely able to hold onto the seats as he tried to stay up.
“That was stupid,” Tech commented, even as he sat there dripping water that looked like blood. Some of it was smeared across his goggles, but Hunter had the sense he could at least see well enough to fly.
“I was trying to help.”
“Help by strapping in.”
“No, I’m staying here.”
“Have it your way.”
Hunter managed to clamber back into his seat by Tech, who was successfully taking out the other vulture droids, their metal bodies and debris raining down, crushing the droids attacking the rest of the squad.
As Wrecker and Crosshair used droid poppers to take out the last ones, Tech pulled up alongside them, ramp lowering again.
Everyone made it on board just as vulture droids came in from the southeast.
“Get us out of here!” Hunter ordered.
The ship shuddered as it was fired at, but the shields stayed intact. Though a warning light and alarm on the console showed that their shield power was low.
Wrecker ran to the gunner’s chair in the stern to return fire.
Hunter groaned from his seat as Tech accelerated.
They burst through the atmosphere, burning, shields almost gone.
“Hey, we have missiles incoming!” Wrecker called, just as the proximity sensors on the console fired up.
Three missiles.
“Hang on,” Tech called.
He dropped them into hyperspace right before the missiles hit them.
Everyone breathed a sight of relief, and Hunter fell forward against the console.
To him, the ship was spinning, and spinning. He was going to fall right out of it. His head was going to fall off.
Oh, stars, he was going to throw up again. His aching stomach was sick of that.
“Well, that was a trap,” Echo pointed out, dripping water all over the place.
“Does that mean there was no Orrrr… What was his name again?”
Nearly everyone groaned.
Hunter suddenly found that he was the most exhausted he’d ever been in his life. He couldn’t answer Wrecker, despite an answer floating around in his swollen brain, and he could barely keep his eyes open.
“Hunter?” Tech called, shaking him. “Hunter!”
Everything went black, but it wasn’t a frightening black. It was more… peaceful, somehow. Or maybe he was just that tired.
Hunter came to in his rack, an oxygen mask on his face. Everyone was crowded around him.
He tried to take the mask off, but Echo forced his arm down.
“Easy, Sergeant. You’ll be all right.”
Tech was running a scanner over him.
“Well, the steroid seems to be working.”
“Did I pass out?” Hunter asked.
“More or less,” Tech responded.
He took in a breath, managing to find enjoyment even in that.
After everyone admonished him to never do any of that again, including the riding a vulture droid business, Echo and Tech sat down with him, while Crosshair and Wrecker went off to annoy each other (hopefully not to death).
“So, do we continue the mission?”
Tech had his datapad out, and said, “Well, Oran Tane does exist, but I’m thinking he was put out there to draw us in.”
Hunter thought about it for a minute, and really took into account how he was feeling.
“Let’s head home.”
Tech of all people breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I do think you need more medicine.”
Echo clapped him on the shoulder and went to go make sure Crosshair and Wrecker didn’t kill each other (they were getting pretty loud from over here).
Tech was going to leave too, but Hunter called him back.
He reached out, and pat him on the arm. “You did good today,” Hunter told him. “Not just with saving me, but with saving all of us. I’m proud of you. I’m really proud of you. And I’m lucky to part of your team.”
Tech ducked his head, avoiding his gaze. After a few seconds he managed to get out, voice sounding a bit choked up, “Thanks, Hunter.” He wiped some water off his face, though this time Hunter didn’t see any red. “Now get some rest. We’re getting you home.”
Hunter lay back, realizing how lucky he was to have every single one of his teammates. And he promised himself he wouldn’t hurt them like this again.