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Crosshair frowned. His hand trembled on his knee, the tremor subtle but still perceptible. He let out a sharp, impatient breath.
”Crosshair?” Omega asked. He sighed, turning to the kid sitting cross-legged beside him.
It had been a week since Omega had convinced him to give meditation for his hand a try. Dutifully he’d come down to the beach with her every day, even when he’d rather not. He still wasn’t sleeping well after their encounter with the CX trooper on Teth, and he felt more like shutting himself away than getting out every morning and putting time into something he wasn’t sure would work.
But every day, Omega wore him down. And overall, his average shooting accuracy was improving… very, very slowly.
It was just that every time he thought his hand was starting to get better, every time he allowed himself to hope for his old ability again, there the tremor would be -- irritating, agitating, weak.
”You know it’s going to take time,” Omega said, as if reading his mind. “I’m sure that even with your enhancements, it still took a lot of training for you to become a sniper.” She smiled, reaching up to brush the bangs out of her eyes. “Besides, I thought being a sniper required patience?”
”Don’t get smart,” Crosshair said, though without any real venom. He bit down on his toothpick and it cracked in half. Annoyed, he spat it out.
He felt a drop of water hit his head. The morning fog, instead of burning off, had only thickened. While he and Omega had been attempting to meditate, clouds had rolled in above them. He glanced up at them, noting the deep gray color, the billowing plumes. It didn’t take a tracker’s skills to realize they were going to be in for a storm.
”Come on, we’d better get going,” he said, half-relieved to be done with meditating for the day. Part of him had to admit that the stillness and the breathing reminded him of some of the more enjoyable parts of his old training — but the rest of him resented that it was needed, that there didn’t seem to be a quick fix for the tremor. He clambered to his feet, giving Omega a hand. She scrambled up easily.
”You think it’s going to rain?” Omega asked, even as a few more droplets of water dripped onto his head. Of course, her head was rather better protected from the elements than his own.
He rubbed his head with his hand, his hand coming away damp as he brushed against the barely palpable stubble growing there. Maybe he’d grow it back out now. He knew it’d never grow over the burn scar, but he didn’t mind that showing; it was a reminder he deserved.
”I know it. And Hunter would kill me if I kept you out here in a downpour. You might get a cold.”
Omega burst out laughing. “You’re too much, little brother.”
He bristled, but not before giving her half a smile. “I’m just looking out for you. Kid.”
The rain began in earnest then, drops drip-dripping on the ground below them, sending up a sweet, dusty smell of damp stone and sand. Omega shivered as the rain intensified into a steady drizzle, rubbing her arms. She’d worn short sleeves today and looked like she was regretting it.
”See? I can hear him now. ‘You let Omega get caught in this weather?’” Crosshair said. He undid the snaps on his vest and pulled it off, leaving only his undershirt, which was rapidly getting soaked. “Here, I know it’s not sleeves, but maybe it will help.” He wrapped it around her shoulders, where it hung off her small frame like an awkward poncho.
She beamed up at him. “Thanks, Crosshair. And don’t worry about Hunter. I know how to handle him.”
Crosshair nearly choked at the thought. Hunter, their sergeant, their leader, stern as hell — and wrapped around the finger of this scrawny kid with the sunny smile. On second thought, maybe he and Hunter were more alike than he wanted to admit. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
They made their way up the stairs back to the colonnade, taking it slower than usual with the stairs slick and slippery. Omega’s hair was plastered to her face, but the vest he’d given her was slightly water-repellant, and her shivering had stopped. He was the chilly one now, but he wasn’t planning on mentioning it.
Omega squinted up at the rainy sky, droplets beading down her face. “It reminds me of Kamino,” she said, her voice going flat.
“Mhm,” Crosshair said, unsure of what to say. He didn’t think much about Kamino, these days; there were other things that stalked his memories and his sleep, and if he let himself linger on Kamino, he’d remember that platform, that hunger, that choice. The wrong choice.
He swallowed. Looked down at the kid, whose face had gone stony.
“What about it?” Crosshair asked at last.
”The lab I was raised in was underwater,” said Omega. “You saw it. Sometimes I didn’t see the sky for a year at a time, if Nala Se didn’t need me to leave the lab with her.” She wrapped her arms around herself, skipping up a few steps ahead of him, her head down. “And when I did get to look outside, it was always this. Always rain. I didn’t see a sunny day on Kamino until that day with you.”
He trudged up behind her, crossing his arms, trying not to think about it. He couldn’t have known. Couldn’t have realized it was the last time he’d ever see his brother.
Could he have?
Omega stopped on the next landing, waiting for him. He hadn’t realized he was climbing so slowly.
She gazed at him, something complicated in her eyes. “I hated it. But it was still my home. I haven’t thought about it in a long time. It’s just, the rain —“ She frowned. “Are you okay?”
He looked down at her. “I… don’t like thinking about it either,” he said evenly.
At his side, his hand shook, fingers dragging against his leg. He let out a long breath, then reached out.
He pulled the vest down a little lower over her back where it had bunched up. There. That would cover her better, protect her more from the rain. He patted her back once, twice before pulling away, his hand going still.
She smiled sadly up at him. “Thanks.” She hunched in under the vest more securely, then wiped her hair out of her eyes.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Listening.” She kept climbing the stairs and he followed. “You’re pretty good at it. When you aren’t being sarcastic.”
”I’m never sarcastic. I’m observant,” he sniffed. She looked back at him, her eyes wide and skeptical, then she broke into a laugh when she realized he was smiling.
“You’re kind of horrible, you know.”
He shrugged, but the smile still tugged at his face. “You’re not wrong.”
They climbed up the rest of the stairs in the rain, which thankfully kept itself to a drizzle instead of a tropical cloudburst. Still, they were sodden by the time they reached the deserted colonnade, their feet squelching in the water pooling on the stone surface. They made their way back to the Marauder, shivering side by side while the gangplank descended.
“Come on, come on, get out of the rain!” Wrecker said, waving them in. They climbed aboard, the warm close air inside the ship extremely welcome.
Wrecker tossed Crosshair a blanket, then wrapped one carefully around Omega. “I’m fine, Wrecker,” she giggled. “Just soaked.”
“Here,” said Hunter, emerging from the cockpit with a pair of steaming mugs. “Found some tea. I know I’m no cook, but I swear it won’t poison you.”
”I’ll be the judge of that,” Crosshair said. He wiped his face off with the blanket, then wrapped it around his shoulders and took a mug from Hunter. It did smell good, something floral and faintly fruity, and most importantly, it was warm. He held it tightly in his good hand.
Omega took a sip. “Oh! I remember this.” She gave Hunter a small smile, then took another sip. “It’s the tea Phee gave us. Tech really liked it.” She took a deep breath of its scent.
Crosshair took a small sip, closing his eyes. The tea was scalding hot, but its flavors were delicate, an herbal undertone mixing with bright warm florals.
Funny, he had never known Tech to be much of a tea person.
He’d have liked to tease him about it.
Omega sneezed, startling all of them. Crosshair looked up guiltily, knowing before he saw it what he’d find: Hunter staring daggers at him.
“She’s fine, Hunter. Just a little rain,” Crosshair said. Hunter arched an eyebrow at him in warning, but stopped short of actually making a move on his life.
Crosshair sat down at the console, gazing out the viewscreen, watching the rain sluice down. He drank his tea, slowly warming up in the blanket, listening as Omega began talking to Hunter and Wrecker, their voices a familiar and comforting murmur.
He took another drink, and his hands stayed steady.