Chapter Text
Hunter peered across the moon’s dark surface and saw Crosshair walking down the cargo freighter’s ramp.
Crosshair’s expressions had always been challenging to read, but now more so than ever. He didn’t seem particularly happy or particularly upset to see them. Just unsure.
Meanwhile, Hunter felt a storm of emotions gathering in his heart, so much so that he couldn’t tell which emotion was the driving wind. Was it joy or anger? Relief or resentment? Perhaps, more than the rest, it was curiosity.
What had happened to Crosshair? If he had been imprisoned at Hemlock’s base, did that mean he had truly turned on the Empire? How and why had he sent them that “Plan 88” message? Did it mean he still cared about them, despite everything?
He and Wrecker seemed to stare Crosshair down for ages before Omega finally intervened. She took hold of Hunter’s arm, but he didn’t break eye contact with Crosshair.
“Hunter,” she said. “It’s alright. Crosshair helped me escape. He’s on our side now.”
Crosshair’s expression changed at Omega’s words, almost as if he disagreed with her.
“Is that so?” Hunter asked. His instinct was to cross his arms, but he didn’t want to pull himself away from Omega. So, he shifted his weight instead.
Meanwhile, Crosshair’s trademark scowl returned for a second, before he glanced at Omega and then motioned to the cargo freighter.
“We managed to steal this ship,” he told Hunter, “but the Empire can track it. They probably already are. We don’t want to be here when they inevitably show up.”
Omega let go of Hunter’s arm and hurried forward.
“I’ll go get Batcher and our things,” she said to Crosshair.
Hunter hated to see Omega go, to leave his side after being apart from her for what felt like a lifetime. But he had to remind himself she would be back in a minute.
Crosshair, who was standing just at the foot of the ramp, moved to the side as she passed and ran up. He instinctively watched her go before turning back to his brothers.
With Omega gone momentarily, Hunter saw an opportunity to better gauge Crosshair.
Hunter walked forward until he was side-by-side with Wrecker, who had been quietly watching the entire exchange. He, like Hunter, must’ve been trying to get a sense of things.
“You’re welcome to come with us, Crosshair,” Hunter said, "but you don’t have to. You can take the freighter and any supplies you want. Or we can drop you off somewhere you’d feel safe.”
Crosshair’s face turned back into a scowl.
“Trying to get rid of me already?” he said, crossing his arms.
“I just want you to know that you have a choice. You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”
“And if I do?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound as mean as Hunter had expected.
Hunter could feel Wrecker’s excitement as he loudly asked, “You mean, you want to come with us?”
Crosshair glanced down for a moment in thought. After a second or two, he shifted his weight, uncrossed his arms and stared straight at Hunter.
“I’m not leaving Omega. Not now.”
Hunter couldn’t help but look stunned. He had never heard Crosshair say Omega’s name before. He had only ever called her “the kid” or their “little sidekick,” and always in tones dripping with disdain or bitterness.
Now, he sounded so different. Resolute. Matter of fact. Almost … concerned.
Hunter took note of it. Crosshair certainly seemed different, but in what way or to what degree, Hunter couldn’t be certain.
He looked at Wrecker, who seemed surprised too, but he nodded to Hunter.
Hunter turned back to Crosshair, whose face had settled into a relatively neutral expression, and told him, “Then, we’ll all head for Pabu.”
As he said it, he saw Omega rushing down the ramp again. She was carrying a brown leather handbag in one hand and had a large backpack with two blasters inside slung over her shoulder. A large blue-skinned lurca hound was trailing her with its mouth open and tail wagging.
Omega ran toward The Marauder. The lurca hound was next to her and Crosshair followed them both.
“Hunter, Wrecker,” Omega said to each of them. “This is Batcher.”
The lurca hound barked at them excitedly but didn’t leave Omega’s side.
“Wow,” Wrecker said, moving toward the hound. “Ain’t she a beauty!”
He knelt and allowed the hound to sniff him.
“It’s alright,” Omega said, patting the hound’s head. “He’s a friend.”
Hunter had a dozen questions for her but figured this wasn’t the time.
“C’mon,” he said, gesturing to everyone. “Let’s get going.”
All five of them climbed into The Marauder. Crosshair was the last to board, and Hunter sat in the pilot’s seat and closed the ramp behind him.
As Hunter powered up the ship and prepared to take off, Wrecker gestured for Omega to take the copilot’s seat. He then sat diagonally from her, and Crosshair took the seat behind Omega. The lurca hound sat on the floor next to her, sniffing the new environment.
Hunter worked the controls, and The Marauder lifted off the Ryloth moon and headed toward open space.
“Hang on,” Hunter said instinctively.
He went a little faster than usual, as he remembered Crosshair’s warning about the Empire. The last thing he wanted to do was let Omega fall into their hands again.
He punched in all the coordinates and made sure everything was set. At the first possible moment, he made the jump to hyperspace.
“Alright,” he said as the bluish tunnel of light filled the cockpit window. “First things first. I want to contact Echo and let him know we found you both.”
“Where is Echo?” Omega asked.
“Not exactly sure,” Hunter said, as he prepped the long-range comms to send a transmission. “He and Rex have been working things from their end, trying to find out more about Hemlock and his base. We’ve been checking in with them every few rotations.”
Hunter hit the last few buttons to send out the transmission signal, turned to Omega and added: “He might not be available, but we can at least leave him a message and let him know you’re safe.”
But, after a few seconds, the signal was picked up. A nearly life-sized holoprojection of Echo appeared in the middle of the cockpit.
“Hunter,” Echo said over the holo. “Good timing. I was just about to comm you—”
“Echo,” Wrecker said, unable to contain his excitement. “Look who found us!”
Omega stood up, making sure she’d be visible on Echo’s end of the holoprojector.
“Omega!” Echo yelled. “You’re back! You’re safe! What happened?”
“We managed to escape.”
“We?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said. “Can you see who else is here?”
Echo looked around for a second before saying, “Crosshair? Is that you?”
“It’s me,” Crosshair said, leaning forward slightly in his seat.
“Wow,” Echo said, physically taken aback. “So, both of you escaped then? How did you manage that?”
“It was a bit tricky,” Omega said. “But we did it together.”
“And you’re both safe? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, we’re fine.”
Hunter saw Crosshair shift uncomfortably. He looked away after noticing Hunter’s gaze.
“That’s good,” Echo said. “I know these two were worried sick about you. And so was I.”
“Where are you right now?” Omega asked.
“I’m tying up a few things here on Pantora,” he said, before turning to Hunter. “Are you all heading to Pabu?”
“Yeah,” Hunter answered. “How soon could you meet us there?”
“I can be there in one rotation,” he said and then turned back to Omega. “I’m sorry I can’t get there any sooner.”
“It’s alright, Echo,” she said. “At least we won’t have to wait long.”
“Is there anything pressing we should know about Hemlock’s base?”
“We managed to steal a shuttle when we escaped, but we ended up crash-landing on another planet. The systems were damaged so badly we couldn’t pull the coordinates to Tantiss.”
“Tantiss?”
“That’s the name of the base. The one Hemlock runs.”
On the holo, Echo put his left hand on his chin for a moment.
“If that’s the case,” he said, “I think it’d be best if you waited until I was there for you and Crosshair to do your full de-brief. That way, the two of you don’t have to talk about it more than necessary. And it’ll give you some extra time to collect your thoughts. Omega, would that be alright with you? To wait until I’m there to talk about everything?”
Hunter looked at Omega, expecting her to be uncomfortable or nervous. But she didn’t seem bothered.
“I don’t mind waiting,” she answered. “Do you, Crosshair?”
As everyone's eyes fell on him, Crosshair seemed to retreat into his seat.
“That’s fine,” he said unconvincingly.
Echo nodded to them and said, “If you think of anything pressing, of course, you should tell Hunter and Wrecker. But, if not, we can wait until tomorrow. I should be there in approximately 24 hours.”
Hunter glanced at the hyperspace calculations and timecharts.
“We’ll be arriving on Pabu around midday local time,” Hunter said, “so we should see you tomorrow mid-morning then.”
Echo nodded.
“I’m glad to see you’re both back safe,” he said, glancing between Omega and Crosshair. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you both tomorrow. Take care of yourselves until then.”
“We will,” Omega said, waving at him. “Bye, Echo!”
He gave her a small salute with his scomp arm before the holo clicked off.
Omega seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m glad he’ll be able to meet us tomorrow,” she said.
Hunter couldn’t help but stare at her and smile. It didn’t seem real. After those long, empty months, suddenly there was light and warmth in The Marauder again. How had he survived so long without her?
“How long until we get to Pabu?” Wrecker asked, breaking Hunter’s train of thought.
Hunter glanced down at the controls.
“About three hours.”
Crosshair exhaled loudly. He wasn’t relieved. He was uncomfortable.
Hunter locked eyes with him, but neither of them said anything.
“Well, if we’re waiting until tomorrow to do our de-brief,” Omega said, looking from Crosshair to Hunter, “maybe you could do yours now?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Omega,” Hunter said, trying to push all those dark memories out of his mind.
“You crossed the galaxy five times looking for us. What happened? Wh—”
Her eyes blinked rapidly as she started wobbling.
Hunter and Wrecker both reached for her instinctively, but Crosshair caught her first with his left hand.
“Omega,” all three brothers said at once.
“I’m fine,” she said, as Hunter knelt by her side and examined her face.
“No, you’re not,” Crosshair said with his hand still on her shoulder. “You’ve been up for almost 24 hours now. You’re exhausted.”
The lurca hound, who had moved to Omega’s side, let out a soft whine.
“See?” Crosshair said. “Even Batcher knows: You need to rest.”
Hunter knew that feeling of adrenaline wearing off, leaving only exhaustion. He could fight through it when he needed to, but Omega shouldn’t have to. She was safe now.
Omega tried to look at Hunter, but she could hardly keep her eyes open.
“C’mon, kid,” Wrecker said, standing and picking her up in his arms. “I gotcha.”
Wrecker carried her to the back of the ship. Like a procession, Hunter, Crosshair and the lurca hound all followed.
As Wrecker neared her makeshift room in the rear gunner’s mount, Omega reached out for the ladder and took hold of it. Wrecker braced her as she shakily climbed the last few steps. She then grabbed her Lula tooka doll and rolled onto the mat.
“Thank you, Wrecker,” she said, closing her eyes.
“You’re welcome, kid. We’ll see ya in a few hours.”
He grabbed the little curtain and closed it, and Hunter suddenly felt as though all the light in the galaxy had vanished behind it.
Wrecker turned and, seeing Hunter’s face, put a hand on his shoulder and told him: “She’ll be fine.”
An uneasy silence fell on the back half the ship, only broken by the lurca hound’s low whines. Crosshair’s eyes were scanning the space, likely making note of all the changes they’d made since he’d last been on The Marauder over a year ago.
But the ship wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
Hunter only now realized how gaunt and exhausted Crosshair looked. With Omega gone, his expression had changed too. He looked so hollow and defeated, as if he was dead inside.
“What about you?” Hunter couldn’t help but ask him, quietly. “Don’t you need some sleep too? You’ve probably been up as long as she has.”
“I’m fine.”
No, he wasn’t. Even after all their time apart, Hunter could tell.
“You should get some sleep. It’ll be midday when we get there, so you might as well.”
Crosshair sighed, sat down in the portside console chair and crossed his arms. Wrecker moved back to the cockpit, but Hunter waited a moment.
“If you need anything,” he told Crosshair, “water and rations are in the usual spots.”
Crosshair nodded, leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. The lurca hound curled up on the floor near his feet, almost halfway between his chair and the ladder to Omega’s room.
Hunter left them and returned to the cockpit. Wrecker had taken his usual spot in the copilot’s chair again. Hunter sat down next to him and pressed the seldom-used button to close the door between the cockpit and the back half of the ship.
“So, what do you think?” Wrecker asked in a low voice, even with the door closed.
Hunter’s head was full of so many thoughts, he couldn’t give a clear answer.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “But at least he’s not trying to kill us.”
Wrecker rubbed his hand against the back of his neck.
After a moment, Hunter asked, “What do you think? Is taking him to Pabu a good idea?”
“Well, if he really was imprisoned by the Empire, and he really did help Omega escape, I think that’s a good sign. But we should definitely keep an eye on him.”
“Agreed.”
Hunter pressed the button again, and the door reopened. Down the hallway, he could see the curtain was still covering Omega’s room and the lurca hound was sleeping at the base of the ladder. Crosshair was still in the same chair, but Hunter could only see his left shoulder and part of his head. It was hard to tell, but Hunter doubted he was already asleep.
He motioned to Wrecker to stay quiet, so as not to disturb any of them.
With his eyes fixed on the back half of the ship, a wave of emptiness suddenly fell over him.
*****
For the first time in months, Hunter felt like he had nothing to do.
Omega was safe. She was home. She was sleeping soundly in her room, or at least he hoped she was.
He wanted to check on her, but between Crosshair and the lurca hound, he was afraid walking back there would disturb one or both of them, which would subsequently disturb Omega.
No, he had to let them be, even though it felt like his heart was being squeezed inside his chest a little more with each minute he had to wait.
He listened for Omega’s breathing but couldn’t hear much over the hum of hyperspace.
So, he stared back through the open door, with his eyes passing back and forth between Omega’s curtain, the lurca hound on the floor and Crosshair’s shoulder.
The latter was the one he was most concerned about.
Crosshair seemed so different, yet somehow still the same.
Still angry. Still sarcastic. Still closed off.
But it was clear something had happened, something that had pulled Crosshair and Omega together.
Hunter remembered that clear morning on Kamino, as they stared out at the burning remnants of Tipoca City from the last remaining platform. He’d hoped Omega would be the one person Crosshair might listen to, the one person he might believe when she said he was still their brother.
Crosshair hadn’t listened to her then, but it was clear he did now.
The way Crosshair and Omega interacted with each other, Hunter could see there was an understanding between them.
A bond.
He couldn’t help but think of everything Crosshair had said about loyalty, how he believed they’d abandoned him, betrayed him.
So why was he so loyal to Omega now? So… devoted?
Hunter almost shuddered at the thought.
For so long, he’d hoped that Crosshair would return to their family one day. But now, it was too much.
After everything that happened between them on Kamino, on Bracca, on Kamino again… after hearing that Crosshair had been imprisoned, after receiving his warning… after losing Tech and then Omega…
All those long months, those tortuous days and anxious nights, spilled back into his mind.
If Crosshair really had bonded with Omega, as Hunter had once hoped he would, there would be no getting rid of him now. Hunter was stuck with him.
He suddenly felt Wrecker place a hand on his shoulder, and he finally realized how tense all his muscles were. His shoulders and back were tight, and he tried his best to stretch them and relieve the tension without standing up.
He quickly turned to glance at the hyperspace calculations. They were still more than two hours away from Pabu.
It struck him just how long this trip would feel.
“Maybe you should sleep too,” Wrecker whispered as best as he could.
Hunter glanced back. Neither Crosshair nor the lurca hound had stirred.
He shook his head at Wrecker.
“Go on,” Wrecker whispered again. “At least close your eyes for a bit. Or work on something. I’ll keep a lookout.”
Hunter sighed and put his hand to his temple.
Wrecker leaned in closer and whispered, “You need a distraction.”
Wrecker quietly got up and moved to the chair just behind the copilot’s seat, turning it so he had a clear view of the back half of the ship. He looked back at Hunter and motioned his head toward the dashboard.
Hunter finally gave in and turned his chair back around. He did a quick systems check. Everything seemed to be working fine.
He looked back down. They weren’t any closer.
He took out his knife and started twirling it between his fingers. He smiled for a moment, remembering when Omega had imitated it once. That seemed like two or three lifetimes ago now.
Hunter shook his head.
Why was he so anxious? So unhappy?
Omega was safe and home. Shouldn’t he be relieved? Shouldn’t he be thrilled after all these long months apart?
He knew he wouldn’t be happy again until he could see her, talk to her. While she was out of his sight, it wouldn’t feel real.
He glanced down again. Still two hours away from Pabu.
Could the time go by any slower?
Finally, Hunter remembered he'd been meaning to archive some of Tech’s old files for weeks. He grabbed the datapad from the corner of the dashboard, where he’d stashed it earlier. He lowered the sound levels on the controls, and started pressing the keys as softly but swiftly as he could.
Every few minutes, he’d glance back up to check their status or look back at Wrecker. But even then, the time still seemed to trickle by.
Omega is safe now, Hunter had to keep reminding himself. She’s back home. She’s just sleeping.
With every press of a button, he told himself that.
Omega is safe now.
She's back home.
She’s just sleeping.
*****
They were about a half-hour from Pabu when he heard a faint noise somewhere in the back of the ship.
Wrecker touched Hunter’s shoulder, and he turned around.
Crosshair wasn’t in the chair anymore. Hunter couldn’t see him at all.
He stood up and quietly walked toward Omega’s room. The lurca hound opened her eyes and perked her head up, but didn’t move from the base of the ladder.
As Hunter reached the back half of The Marauder, he found Crosshair standing next to the console. He was looking down at Tech’s broken goggles, carefully cupped in his hands.
Crosshair met Hunter’s gaze. His face was so broken, so despondent that a bolt of sadness pierced Hunter’s heart.
Hunter remembered Tech, standing in almost that exact spot, telling him: We have not always agreed with Crosshair, but he is still our brother. We do not leave our own behind.
Hunter averted his gaze and was immovable for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to do.
Crosshair had already heard, right? Surely, Omega would’ve told him.
Still holding Tech’s goggles in his hands, Crosshair moved past him, toward the cockpit. Hunter followed. Wrecker, who’d moved to the pilot’s seat, pressed the button to close the door behind them.
None of them said anything for several long moments. No doubt, each of them were waiting for someone else to break the silence. Someone who was no longer there.
Finally, Crosshair asked, “How do you have these?”
He held up the goggles in his left hand, so they were clearly visible.
“What do you mean?” Wrecker asked.
“Omega told me he died on Eriadu. That he … fell.”
“Yes,” was all Hunter could say.
“Then how do you have them?”
“Well… ” Wrecker said, before trailing off.
“It was Hemlock,” Hunter answered.
Crosshair stiffened and turned to face him.
“What?”
Hunter finally looked up. Crosshair’s eyes were wide, and his jaw was clenched.
Hunter sighed and began:
“After we broke into the compound on Eriadu, we went back to Ord Mantell. Omega was hurt, and we needed AZI to treat her. And just as she was coming ‘round and we were making our plans to leave for Pabu permanently, Hemlock showed up.”
“How did he find you?” Crosshair said, his eyes narrowing.
“Our contact. Cid. She… betrayed us.”
Crosshair scowled and exhaled loudly through his nose, but didn’t say anything.
“I was with Omega,” Hunter continued. “I told her to get back to the ship and find Echo, and then I went out and met Hemlock to buy her time. His commandos had Wrecker at blasterpoint, and he told me to stand down. He said he’d found … the goggles, and gave them to me as… a gift.”
Crosshair shifted his stance. He put the goggles in his right hand and covered them with his left. Hunter could see he was doing his best not to damage the broken lenses.
“That’s when I surrendered,” Hunter admitted.
He glanced at Wrecker, whose face was downcast from the retelling.
“What about Omega?” Crosshair asked. “How did she get captured then?”
“She confronted Hemlock as he was taking us away. She was trying to help us, but one of his commandos snuck up behind her and stunned her.”
Hunter tried not to think about everything that happened afterward — how his heart shattered, like lightning striking glass, as he helplessly watched Hemlock’s shuttle fly away with her.
Omega is safe now, Hunter reminded himself again. She’s back home. She’s just sleeping.
Thankfully, Crosshair didn’t continue the conversation. He was looking down at Tech’s goggles again, outlining the rims with his left forefinger. After a few moments, he seemed to become conscious of it, stopped and sat down in one of the back-row seats.
Hunter didn’t know what to say. Wrecker was looking between them, as though he was trying to find some topic of conversation that might work.
At last, Wrecker asked Crosshair, “Did ya get any sleep?”
“Hardly,” he replied in his usual bitter tone.
“Well, you’ll be able to relax once we get to Pabu. Everything there is a like a dream.”
Crosshair looked at Hunter and asked, “Where exactly is this place? Just how safe is it?”
“It’s on Aoturoa — an oceanic planet in the Outer Rim,” Hunter answered. “There’s no Imperial presence there, or even in the system. It’s about as remote as you can get. And Pabu itself is even more remote. It’s a small island community, home to other refugees. We’ve made friends with many of them.”
“So I’ve heard,” Crosshair said, but his tone was neutral rather than sarcastic.
“It was a haven for us before. I figure it’s about the best place we can go now.”
Wrecker added: “Yeah, it’s amazing. The food’s great, and the people are even better. Ya can’t ask for much more.”
Hunter expected Crosshair to make some kind of remark, whether sarcastic or curious, but he didn’t. Still holding the goggles, he crossed his arms and averted his eyes.
Hunter exchanged a look with Wrecker before taking his seat in the pilot’s chair and checking the console. The readings had changed color, indicating they were making their final approach. Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes.
“We’re getting close now,” Hunter said, trying to contain his excitement. “Should we wake Omega?”
He had directed the question to Wrecker, but Crosshair was the one who answered:
“Let her sleep a bit more. She needs it.”
Wrecker nodded and said, “Yeah. Wait ‘til we come outta hyperspace.”
Hunter turned to the console and glanced around at everything, and eventually started another systems check.
Those final minutes were painful.
He desperately wanted to wake Omega, put his hand on her shoulder and see her smile again.
But Crosshair lingered in his mind and in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, any second, Crosshair would do or say something to hurt him. A hateful glare. A bitter remark. A rush to tackle him and Wrecker, and stab them in the back.
Crosshair might’ve bonded with Omega. He might be mourning Tech. But there was still something that Hunter couldn’t quite shake.
He couldn’t trust Crosshair.
Not fully.
Not yet.
Maybe once Crosshair was on Pabu and truly felt free again, maybe he would explain then.
Did he really turn on the Empire? How did he become Hemlock’s prisoner? How did he find out Hemlock was targeting them and send the “Plan 88” message? And, most of all, which happened first?
At long last, the hyperspace exit notification went off, and Hunter felt the ship ramp down from lightspeed and then jolt out into regular space. He and the others looked out to see the familiar blue planet decorated with white dots.
Everything that had passed in the last two hours or so had faded away, and Hunter felt lighter than ever.
He pressed the button to open the cockpit door, and nodded to Wrecker, who stood up and headed to the back of the ship.
Without taking his eyes off the planet, Hunter could distantly hear Wrecker pull back the curtain and gently say, “Hey, kid. We’re here.”
“Al-already?” Omega said, groggy but excited.
“Ha, c’mon,” Wrecker said in his usual loud voice.
Hunter heard Omega laugh as Wrecker must’ve picked her up and bounded back to the cockpit with her. The lurca hound was following them, chipper and panting.
Looking past Crosshair, Hunter turned to see Wrecker coming into the cockpit with Omega slung over his shoulder, still giggling. He set her down in the copilot’s seat.
She looked so much taller, bigger, older now than Hunter remembered. He still envisioned her as she looked that first night they left Kamino, sitting in that same chair as Tech made the jump to hyperspace.
It struck Hunter just how much time he’d missed with her. All those years before the Clone Wars ended, and now nearly six months while she’d been trapped at Hemlock’s base.
Hunter didn’t know how he’d ever be able to forgive himself for not finding her sooner, except to look at her now and know — know for absolute certain — that she was safe.
“Welcome home, Omega,” he said, as he felt his eyes welling up. “Welcome home.”