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Crosshair’s eyes burned and ached, the flash of light seeming to go all the way into his head. Even with his eyes closed he could still see bright white afterimages through his lids.
Crosshair growled, putting a hand over his eyes through his helmet.
Get it together.
“Crosshair, what’s wrong?” Tech asked. “Why didn’t you take the shot?”
Crosshair wanted to explain it was the stupid flashbang he’d seen go off through his heat vision lens.
Hunter started explaining it to Tech.
Crosshair was perched up on a rocky cliff amongst the heavy snow. They had drawn out the tactical droid, and he was supposed to take it out.
The flashbang.
The tactical droid recognized them.
Hunter started detailing new plans, but now even sound seemed to hurt his head. He thought he heard Hunter was coming to get him, but he couldn’t be sure.
Crosshair tried opening his eyes, and growled at the stabbing pain that followed.
The pain left him so distracted and disoriented, and he was worried about not being able to keep an eye on his surroundings.
Something fired right near Crosshair’s side where he lay in the snow.
Blast!
He rolled, grabbing his rifle, and opened his eyes to try and fire. Through the too-bright light of sun reflecting off snow and ice Crosshair could barely make out his enemy. He thought he saw a commando droid. Maybe three of them.
Crosshair ducked behind a natural alcove in the cliffside. The sheer drop to his left didn’t exactly make him feel too comfortable, especially with the dip in the stone that had him slowly falling through the snow. But right now this was better than getting shot.
Blaster bolts fired in his direction, the bright flares aching behind his eyes.
Still half-blinded, Crosshair threw a puck. It’d never hold up against the energy of a blaster bolt in the snow, but if he fired…
Now!
He took the shot before the puck could land, and a set of blaster bolts stopped firing. When he ducked his head around a commando droid was crashing into the snow, smoking from a shot off-center from the middle of its chest. Well, he could’ve done worse.
His next problem arose as the two remaining commando droids advanced, and Crosshair was close to falling over the edge to a drop three-hundred meters down.
And his vision still wasn’t perfect again.
With no choice he jumped from his spot, firing at the droids. Another went down, but the last one got too close. Crosshair raised his rifle horizontally, trying to push the droid back. He grunted as he had to shift to avoid getting blasted through the gut.
Seeing the choice before him that the droid had cleverly fought him into, Crosshair tried to avoid it, wanting to keep hold of his rifle. He kicked at it, but that only made it slide back about a third of a meter. It came at him with renewed force, grabbing his rifle and swinging him through the air. For a horrifying second he flew over the sheer drop into a thicket of conifers below, but then he surpassed it. Though unfortunately he’d still have to land somewhere if not there. Already his neck had been wrenched from the force of the throw, his helmet flying off, and some muscles in his legs had been pulled to try and keep his position.
Crosshair’s back smacked into the dark, jagged cliff rising above him, now opposite from where he had first been firing at the droids.
The impact knocked the air out of him, and made his rifle fall from nerveless fingers. He fell from his position about a meter up, landing on his feet. Agony shot through his left leg, and a choked scream tried to leave him, lungs still not having recovered from the impact. Crosshair collapsed into the snow atop his rifle.
The droid leveled its blaster and Crosshair was sure he was dead. He tried to reach his pistol, but his left arm was completely numb. His eyes widened in fear, light still too bright.
A vibroblade blurred through the air and stuck out of the commando droid’s neck. Sparks flew. It fired as it fell, aim now a couple meters above where Crosshair lay.
Hunter rushed into his field of view, firing to make sure the droid was down.
He came over to him, crouching down.
“Crosshair, are you okay?”
“Did—did you take out the tactical droid?” he asked.
Crosshair tried to get up, but his upper back hurt so badly he might have preferred it if the commando droid had shot him. He screamed and collapsed back down.
“Tech did,” Hunter answered, looking him over. “He’s taking the head back to Kamino to try and figure out how the CIS know about us.”
“So you figured it out too? Well, we’re not exactly subtle.”
“Can you stand?”
“Uh-uh.”
Hunter grabbed Crosshair’s numb left arm, trying to sling it over his shoulder… without Crosshair able to keep it in place.
“Crosshair, I need your help here.”
“My arm is numb,” he growled at him.
“Where are you injured?”
“My back. My leg too.”
“I’ll get Tech and Wrecker up here.”
Hunter called them on comms as he got Crosshair’s helmet and pulled his rifle out from under him. With difficulty he got Crosshair onto his side, which at least was more comfortable than his stomach.
Hunter retrieved his vibroblade and in a moment of anger kicked the commando droids over the edge of the cliff.
“What’s done is done,” Crosshair hissed.
“I still hate them. Every single stinkin’—”
“We’re here!” Wrecker announced.
He and Tech had a stretcher with them.
The sky was darkening through Crosshair’s view of the trees. More snow would fall soon.
“What are your symptoms?” Tech asked as he and Wrecker picked him up.
Crosshair tried to hold in a cry, but it came out anyway. His cheeks, which were already flushed from the cold, reddened even more. He didn’t want his squad to see him in pain, didn’t want to need their help. But the truth was, he was injured, and he probably needed medical attention.
Hunter was talking to Echo, asking him to fly the Marauder to their position so they wouldn’t have to carry Crosshair halfway down a mountain.
“Middle and lower back hurt,” he told Tech. “Middle hurts worse. My left leg hurts, and—and I can’t feel my left arm.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” he demanded, words coming out too loud as he was fully settled and pressure was against his mid-back.
Oh, kriff, he was nauseous.
“Might be dealing with herniated discs.”
“I don’t speak whatever that is,” he hissed.
“Bulging discs, Crosshair,” Tech said with a roll of his eyes.
“There are discs in my back?” Wrecker asked loudly.
“Yes, Wrecker,” Crosshair and Tech responded as one.
Hunter came over to them.
“All right, Echo’s on his way. He should be here in a few minutes.”
Snow drifted over on a chill wind, dark clouds coming upon them.
“Why haven’t you given me something for the pain?” Crosshair demanded.
“How can I perform accurate tests to ascertain the severity of your injuries while you’re numbed?”
“I don’t know, use a damn scanner like a normal person.”
“What is your level of pain?”
“Astronomical,” Crosshair spat out, even as he barely knew what was going on anymore.
He was tense and gritting his teeth. Tears tried to well up in his eyes. He just wanted the pain to stop. How was he supposed to survive even another second like this?
And, he did. Somehow.
Crosshair despised it.
Tech came over, and removed his pack. He started searching through it after removing a tactical droid head.
When he found the medicine he wasted no time about jabbing it into Crosshair’s neck.
Crosshair wanted to complain about the sharp ache, but then a soft, cottony feeling began to wash over him, and move through his bloodstream.
Crosshair looked up at the darkening sky, wondering if he could float up into it.
When the Marauder arrived he couldn’t stop staring at it. What a beautiful ship.
He then realized his pain had softened, going from a ten to a six, which was enough to give him relief.
There was a bit of a struggle over the sheer drop below, but Wrecker and Tech got him safely onto the ship. They unfolded his rack, and placed him into it on his stomach. After some thinking (which only took Tech a grand total of one second) he put a spare pillow under Crosshair’s hips. His pain lower down lessened a bit more.
Hunter and Wrecker flew the ship while Echo helped Tech.
Tech ran a scanner over Crosshair’s body.
“Oh my,” he said when he got a good look at the results.
“What is it?” Crosshair asked, words a bit slurred.
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Echo nudged him. “Just tell him, Tech.”
“Fine. Your T7 disc is bulging, and there’s a small fracture in the vertebrae. Your L5 disc is also bulging. Which explains why you can’t feel your left arm, and why your left leg hurts. Have you, uh, had any incontinence?”
Crosshair did his best to glare.
“Fine, I’ll leave you be.”
“You all set?” Echo asked him after Tech left.
“Yep.”
“Hang in there. We’ll be back home before you know it.”
Crosshair hated when people said that.
“…before you know it” turned into hours of agony and fear from not being able to feel his left arm, and if he so much as tried to sit up his left leg went numb all the way to his toes. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the throbbing pain that had him crying out and groaning at random moments. He was sure his family was dead tired of hearing him screaming.
By the time they made it, rain drenching their viewports, Crosshair was snapping at everyone, just wanting them to leave him alone, and the pain had him shivering. And no matter how many insults he threw at Hunter he stayed diligently by his side as he was brought into the medical wing. Crosshair wished he had the energy to be infuriated about that.
Hunter had let them know they were coming in with an injured trooper, so a room was all ready for Crosshair.
The transition onto the bed had his back telling him it was getting slammed against solid rock again. Tech tried to stay to give the Kaminoan overseeing him more information, but he was pushed out along with Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo. Echo’s face had been pinched, more worried than the others.
Crosshair closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth as various machines started their tests.
The Kaminoan tested his motion, Crosshair unable to hold in a scream when his left leg was tugged on. When his mid-back was pressed on he almost threw up for a reason he couldn’t discern.
The Kaminoan simply injected him with something and held an antiseptic wipe under his nose in the most impersonal way ever. He wanted to tell this Kaminoan to go kriff themselves with a blaster.
With the way he was being treated, Crosshair actually wished he had his brothers back with him. Echo would sympathize with how he was feeling, Wrecker would be annoying in the sweetest way, Tech knew him so well, and despite the times they argued Hunter was his rock. And now he had none of that. The pain across his lower back was electric, sparking and burning, and with his other injury he could barely breathe. He would never admit to it, but he needed his family with him.
“You will require surgery,” the Kaminoan told him. And despite going into battle more times than he could count a hot rush of anxiety swept through him and he broke out in a sweat. He wiped his sweaty right palm on his leg. “We will begin immediately.”
Now he really couldn’t breathe.
“Wait, can’t—can’t I just talk to my squad for a minute?”
“They will be informed.”
“But—”
A medical droid came in as Crosshair was pressed back down onto the bed and promptly shut up.
“Hello, I am AZI-345211”—the Kaminoan injected Crosshair with something in the neck, and he grunted, putting his right hand into a fist—“896246…”
Crosshair’s galaxy faded.
Crosshair groaned, blinking awake. A blue light scanned him, and he thought he heard Tech’s voice, telling the droid to leave him be for now.
“Crosshair.”
“Huh?”
He opened his eyes again, not realizing he had closed them.
“Here.”
A pouch with a straw was being directed to his mouth, and then he realized Hunter was doing the directing.
As Hunter helped him lift his head slightly so he could sip at the bubbly beverage things began to make a bit more sense.
The surgery.
His back didn’t seem to be hurting.
He looked around, realizing his whole family was with him.
Maybe it was the drugs, but a small smile alit his face. Wrecker laughed.
Crosshair, now able to feel his left arm, hugged it to his side, and felt something plush against him. He looked down, finding Lula in his arms. For now he couldn’t even be annoyed.
“Wow, he really is high,” Echo said.
“Here, you should finish this,” Hunter said, putting the straw near Crosshair’s lips again.
As he drank, he started to come back to himself.
His first conscious act was to throw Lula at Wrecker and scoff.
Wrecker caught her and said, “You can’t just throw her around.”
“I’ll throw you around.”
“Seems he’s doing fine,” Tech said.
“Good to see you awake,” Echo said.
Crosshair tried rolling onto his back, and AZI pushed him fully back onto his side. “You have incisions in your back. I do not suggest lying on it.”
“How… How is my back?” Crosshair asked.
“With nano-webbing we were able to put your discs back in place. We filled in the fracture with synthetic bone marrow and bone. As for the incisions you should be back to normal in a few weeks.”
“I want a mirror,” Crosshair said.
“I do not recommend this course of action,” AZI said.
“Fine.”
Crosshair sat up as he let his legs fall to the floor.
He almost fell over and Hunter and Tech caught him.
Once his head cleared and he could sit up on his own Crosshair started taking his tunic off.
“How bad does it look?” he asked his family.
Tech went around to look. “The mechnosutures look very good. You have two incisions. Mostly there is a lot of purple and some swelling.”
“Thanks,” Crosshair breathed as he started putting his shirt back on.
“Humans are odd,” AZI announced.
“AZI, the patient is awake and well,” Hunter said. “You can go.”
“But—”
“Oh, he’ll be fine with us,” Wrecker said.
“If you don’t break him,” Echo intoned under his breath.
Wrecker shoved Echo.
AZI left, but looked back as he floated out.
After some awkward moments of silence that Crosshair didn’t know how to deal with, he said, “Thanks… f-for all of you being here.”
“You thought we’d let you be alone in here? I’d fight a battalion to be here,” Hunter said.
“Or punch a reg in the face.”
Oh, Wrecker.
“You do that quite regularly,” Tech pointed out.
“Two regs.”
“Also a regular occurrence.”
Wrecker folded his arms. “Way to ruin me sharing how much I care about Crosshair. Fine, Hunter, you and the battalion you’d fight win.”
Crosshair appreciated this, destroyed battalion, punched regs, or no. A lot of his work was done alone, but alone in a Kaminoan medical wing? For some reason that was scarier than having commando droids sneak up on you. (At least that was part of the job description.)
“Wrecker,” Crosshair said, “fifty credits says I’ll be able to shoot perfectly in a week.”
“Uh-uh. I’m not taking that bet.”
Tech started to speak, but Hunter cut him off, “I will. Let’s make it sixty. And uh, I’ll wager five rotations.”
“Seventy says four,” Echo said.
“You hate betting,” Tech reminded him.
Echo shrugged.
Crosshair huffed a laugh.
Thanks to Kaminoan medicine, Crosshair was back in the field in a month. Tech had cracked the tactical droid, and they knew this current mission had a tactical droid that knew nothing about them. Due to the sensitivity of the information it couldn’t be transferred between droids. This mission was important since they were hunting down the person who did know about them, and was feeding the Separatist military information.
Everything looked clear through Crosshair’s scopes.
“How you doing up there?” Hunter asked.
Crosshair adjusted his sights. The day was clear and bright, giving him a perfect view of the battle that was sure to take place soon. There weren’t many chances of his eyesight being compromised again. He was in his element up here, virtually alone, and keeping a close eye on his brothers. His back didn’t even twinge or ache when he moved.
Two droid battalions were approaching.
Crosshair set up his first shot.
“Never better, Sergeant.”
The droids drew closer, closer…
He squeezed the trigger.