Chapter Text
Tumblr Prompt 1: You’re here. You’re safe
Safe
Lady JaRuc
Moonlight flooded the pocket cove. Crosshair sat hidden among rocks on one side of the horseshoe-shaped place. He always took the high ground and checked that no one was near or a threat. He seldom came here, but he’d needed to get away from the house. Hunter and Wrecker worried as much as he did, but they were better at going on with their lives than he was.
So he took a long hike along the shoreline, walking for hours to reach this particular cove and, dank ferric, if someone wasn’t sitting on the beach down there. He couldn’t tell if the person was male or female, natborn, clone or otherwise though only a handful of other-worldly creatures lived on Pabu.
He sat on one hip, his leg raised, his arm resting on it, fingers dangling. This was his place, so far from others that he could shout and stomp, rant and rave to his heart’s content. Once he’d released his emotions to the wind and waves he could return to the Batch’s home and pretend he wasn’t upset about Omega leaving. Worried about her flying for the Rebellion.
Sure, she’d been gone months, but his heart hadn’t gotten the message that she was ready and trained better than anyone else in the galaxy. Flying was something Tech did and did better than any other pilot Crosshair knew. His brother passed that knowledge and skill on to his little sister. But no one ever expected her to actually use it against an enemy, the Empire.
Then again, he, Hunter and Wrecker lived in a new naïve word where they assumed Omega would be satisfied growing up and remaining on the island with her aging brothers. Assumed! Huh! Shame on the three of them. They really should have known better.
So while Hunter managed to see the girl off late one night in the cave where she docked her small ship, he and Wrecker didn’t. Wrecker would have been a weeping mess if Omega had given him half a chance to say goodbye. As for him, he’d seen an Empire ship fly her away. He’d seen more harm done to that girl than his heart could stand, and he simply couldn’t stand by and watch her leave one more time. Even if it was her choice.
“You may come down if you want to. I will leave if you want me to,” came a low voice. Gentle. Low register. Female. How he heard that so far above the person he couldn’t explain.
Shocked to know anyone could detect him among the rocks at night, he sat a minute, thinking. No one on the island except Hunter had the ability to locate him if he didn’t want to be found. Had he inadvertently made noise? Was he highlighted on the ridgeline? No to both.
Wondering now just who this person was, he eased down, prepared for hand-to-hand combat if necessary though that wasn’t his best skill. He approached as silently as a grain of sand mingling with a million other grains. He remained with his back against the rock face, dressed in his blacks, invisible.
Approach from the water’s edge so he could see the person’s face or ease up behind her so as not to give her an advantage in jumping him? He decided the backside of this intruder would be best. His mind made up, he walked as silently as possible until he stood to the person’s right side several feet away. From there, he observed this unusual woman.
She sat facing the water, the moon highlighting her face, which he could only see in profile. Her hair lay in braids along the side of her head. A dark color. She wore leggings and a long tunic made of a dark material. A loose fitting robe lay along her shoulders, tucked beneath her bottom. A wide cloth belt held it closed at her waist. She made no motion nor did she acknowledge his presence.
Easing more to her front so he could see her face, Cross saw a woman sitting with her eyes closed, her face lifted toward the moon, and her hands, palms up, clasped calmly in her lap. Her pose reminded him of Omega when they meditated except Megs held her hands on her knees palms up.
“Should I leave?” she asked without opening her eyes.
He had to think about that. She didn’t seem to pose a threat, but what did he know? They were a long way from the main community. Almost a day’s travel. If she hurt him, no one would miss him for a few days, and by then he might be dead. Then again, he’d only ever met one person who exuded such calmness, and that was on Kamino of all places. General Shaak Ti. Serenity had sat like a bubble around the Jedi general as well as this woman.
Knowing nothing from the ocean would harm him here on land and the moon would be his best ally, he moved so he was a step in front but still to her right. He turned to face the rocks and sat, folding his legs gracefully like hers. They sat near each other but facing opposite directions. She couldn’t see his face for the shadow he created, but he could see hers, illuminated by the moon’s glow.
He studied her, his eyes traveling over her face and body, searching for danger. She remained seated, her eyes closed, her breath easily coming in and out. Hunter could have detected a rapid heartbeat beneath her clothes if there was one, but he couldn’t. Even with his enhanced eyesight, he saw no increase in her pulse in the vein running up the side of her neck.
“You come here seldom. You seek peace. Solitude.” She remained calm without sight, but her insight spooked him a little.
He shrugged it off. Mind tricks, he reasoned. “Not a stretch of the imagination to figure that out.” He never squirmed or displayed restlessness. His teachers on Kamino had punished him if he did. He waited for any more of her insights.
“You live there? With all the others?” she asked quietly, her voice soothing.
“Yes.”
“Yet you were not born here.”
“I don’t think you were either,” Cross countered, not relaxed, his hands cupping his knees.
“No, I found this place like so many others did.”
“Did you commit a crime?” he asked just to see her reaction.
“Is breathing considered a crime?”
That surprised him. His head jerked back a little, his body tense.
She still sat with eyes closed so had no idea what he looked like. Though he was a clone, he didn’t look like one. Hunter yes, if you discounted the facial tattoo. Echo for sure, but not him or Wrecker.
“Where does one come from that breathing is considered a crime?” Curiosity had him now. He was still alert to possible danger, but this woman wasn’t that big in size.
“The Empire does not encourage people like me to continue breathing,” came her shocking answer. “Neither do clones…the instrument of the Empire.”
Her words began stirring in his mind. Who did the Empire hate the most? When were the clones ever such an instrument of the Empire? Crosshair had to backtrack that thought a little.
Clones were the fighting instruments of the Republic. The Grand Army of the Republic. But they were never that for the Empire. The Empire phased out the clones…decommissioned them, used them as experiments, or cut them loose to drift into a new world for which they were not prepared. Soldiers are seldom taught how to adjust to peacetime.
“Clones have never been an instrument of the Empire,” he countered, knowing that wasn’t entirely correct.
“Pardon me. I mis-spoke. Empire or the GAR makes no difference. I am not allowed a life because of them.” This time her low modulated voice carried bitterness. She intentionally breathed in and carefully released each breath.
“Open your eyes, woman. You can’t pretend I don’t exist, sitting here beside you. If I wanted you dead, you would be,” Cross ordered without displaying any anger.
Taking a deep breath, as if resigned to what the immediate future might hold, she opened her eyes but focused on the moon directly in front of her.
Her eyes were as dark as her hair, her skin pale. Her oval-shaped face bore large eyes, slender brows and long lashes. High cheekbones accented a slender nose. In any setting, a man would consider her lovely.
“Look at me,” Cross ordered again, this time carefully, his body ready in case she attacked him.
As if her head were on a slow-timed swivel, she gradually turned her head enough to look him fully in the face. Still her countenance didn’t change from the serene expression she first wore. With her hands still clasped loosely in her lap, she tilted her head and examined him.
“You are, but you are not. Interesting,” was her comment.
“And that means what?”
Her stillness, her attitude, her composure irked Cross, his words coming out a bit snippy.
“I worked with many created like you, and yet, you do not resemble the millions of your brothers. Kill me if you must. I will not resist,” she finished before turning her head forward and closing her eyes again.
Kill her? What the kriff did that mean?
“I didn’t come here to kill anyone. I don’t even know you. I’ve never even seen you before. Explain what you just said. I don’t have the patience to play games with you,” he fussed.
“And yet you are a sniper. Patience was bred into you,” she told him.
Kark it all, she knew about clones. She knew about him or his kind. At least what he did during the war. Her words still made no sense.
“What do you mean you worked with many like…clones?”
“You are a clone but not like the ones I helped. I worked in a Republic MedCenter…a hospital. Before that, I worked in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant in their medical center. I am a healer.”
Crosshair sucked in a deep breath, realization coming quickly. His muscles tensed as hers did. Both saw the other as enemies.
“Your kind killed my kind,” she said bluntly without hesitation or anger, her eyes open, her focus sharp but not threatening.
Words of denial sprang quickly to Cross’s mind, but in reality she was correct. His open mouth shut with a decided snap. His focus turned to the rocky face behind them.
“Not until years later did I learn about the effect of the chips embedded in each clone.”
Her words brought his attention quickly back to her.
“You’re Jedi,” he stated rather than ask.
“In a sense. But not the kind you are familiar with. When a padawan—a student—finishes training with the master, he or she takes a final test. If passed, the padawan becomes a Jedi Knight. If the student fails then he or she enters one of the trades or vocations that support the Order. When my test came, I could not in good conscience finish the test and become a peacekeeper for the Order. To do so meant I might have to kill. I failed on purpose. As it happened during the war, padawans became commanders under generals who were Jedi Knights. Because my healing skills were well known, I joined the group of healers that eventually went into the galaxy to the medcenters the Republic established. I was on one such center during the battles of Felucia, Umbarra, and Geonosis. Those wounded men…they fought bravely then fought just as bravely to live with such grievous injuries that only a Jedi healer could save them.”
Cross accepted her story, seeing it as a testament to those who could not lead but supported his brothers. Still that did not explain her presence on Pabu. Was she hiding? Yes. She was most definitely hiding from the Empire, the same as he and his family.
“You hide as well, I think,” she said, confirming his suspicions that she wasn’t a fortune teller but read body language as well as Wrecker could. “Have you committed a crime?” she asked. She was aware that clones committed crimes against humanity in the name of the Republic. And later the Empire for those clones who decided—like him—that the Empire was just another job. He got out before the Empire could discard him like used merchandise.
“Is it a crime to continue breathing?” He repeated her question, his gaze on the rock face rather than her.
“Men like you are no longer wanted. Needed. Discarded in favor of natborn troopers. Why would you be hunted?”
“My squad—my family—aren’t like the other clones.” He cut his gaze down his body before facing her. “We are—were—a specialized group who went in to take care of situations that demanded stealth. When Order 66 came down, we split. I went with the Empire while my brothers went out on their own after rescuing our little sister from Kamino. I eventually realized I was trash in the Empire’s eyes and rejoined my family. But we are still on the Empire’s radar. And now…” He had to stop. To continue would break open a wound that still festered, making his heart bleed with worry and love.
“And now…you seek peace. The Empire has found your family?”
He shook his head, putting his mind back in the game. “Uh, no, not exactly. That little sister grew up and is an ace pilot. Ever since she joined us, she’s wanted to do more. For those we worked with. For those we rescued. For those left behind. And now she’s putting those words to the test. She left months ago to join the Rebellion as a fighter pilot. My brothers and I live in fear that we’ll get a comm saying she’s been killed in action. She and I…we went through bad times together away from our other brothers. We have a bond—”
“A Force Bond,” the woman nodded.
“A what?” Cross had never heard the term.
“The Force lives in everything. We come from it and return to it when we no longer live. The Force can bind people together in an unbreakable bond that time and distance cannot break. It appears you and your sister share such a bond.”
“Perhaps,” Cross conceded. A thought occurred to him. He wanted the final part of her story. “We came here, both to hide and to live a life that would give our sister something other than a sterile existence on Kamino. But what about you? How did you escape Order 66?”
“I almost didn’t. Even if I had survived and landed on the Venator-class star destroyer Tribunal, I might have perished with the others who went down with her. As it was, my mission was to go with one pilot—a clone—to the Tribunal and pick up four critically injured men. When the order came through the comm, my pilot went stiff and slowly turned to me, his blaster out. I had no idea what was happening but knew if he fired, there was a possibility that he’d puncture the hull or the viewport, and we’d disintegrate so I force pushed him aside. Sadly, he landed badly and broke his neck. A fellow healer at the medcenter commed, saying the clone doctors, security personnel, and the men well enough to move turned on the healers there. One was already dead. ‘Run!’ she yelled before I heard blaster fire then silence. So I took control of the ship and hid on a near-by moon. Later I picked up a transmission from Master Obi Wan Kenobi saying the Order had fallen. Not to return to the Temple. Hide. I’d never been so frightened in my life. I did what I was told. I ran and hid. Several years later someone found me and brought me here.”
“I imagine that would be Phee Genoa. She’s always picking up stray people and objects,” Cross commented sarcastically.
“Be that as it may, I live hidden as far from civilization as possible. At least until you showed up.” She turned to face him completely now, her cupped hands not as loose and calm-looking. “Will you turn me over to the Empire or just kill me and let the sea animals devour my body?”
Cross knew he looked like someone slapped him hard. His head went back in surprise, his eyes opened wide, and his mouth fell open. “Why in the karkin’ galaxy would I do that!”
“Does Order 66 still stand?”
“If it does, I don’t know about it. The world isn’t any better for the Jedi being gone.”
“The world isn’t any better for the good men who fought a losing battle being gone either,” she countered.
Cross sighed and turned his face away from hers. Out of the corner of his enhanced vision, he saw her do the same thing. This unnamed Jedi who never wanted to be a killer. Who saved how many of his brothers before being hunted. In his world, he fought and survived. Not his entire family but he valued and loved those left behind, never forgetting the one who gave his life.
“I suppose we can enjoy the beach and moonlight anonymously. I was never here. You were never here. When we walk away, life will go on.”
“True. You are safe here, sir. Your family is as well,” she stated serenely as she returned to her original position and closed her eyes.
Cross shrugged and turned so he sat facing the moon, not too close to the woman but not too far away either. “You’re safe here as well. We will survive.”
“As will your sister,” was her last comment before they gave themselves over to the waves and moonlight.
Tumblr Prompt 1.5 It’s too early for this
Surprise!
Lady JaRuc
“It is too early for this. A ship inspection at this hour,” Tech asserts, his hands uncharacteristically fisted on the hip pieces of his armor.
You dare not grin at his peevishness. The hour is indeed early, the sun not yet up over the rim of the docking bay. The Venator class ship hums as it plows through darkness with only a few bay lights on, one shining softly on the Marauder.
“Those with the opportunity are sleeping,” Tech grumbles at you. His feet firmly planted on the durasteel flooring of the Marauder, he points out, “I should still be in my bunk.”
You’ve been tasked with getting him out of the ship for at least fifteen minutes. Long enough for his brothers and sister to prepare. Prepare for what you’re not sure of, but Hunter said Tech would like it.
Not a party though. If it is then it’s a small one. From your long-time acquaintance with the Bad Batch, you know Tech hates attention focused on him. Though there was that one time Wrecker said Tech won some kind of race, and the crowd cheered his brother.
You shake yourself out of such thoughts and focus. “Tech, you’ve got to see these spots. Hunter said you guys are leaving today. This one spot may need more time to repair than that.”
Leaving without word from Hunter doesn’t faze the pilot engineer, but damage to the Marauder—which he unconsciously calls his ship—gets his attention quickly. But you’re going to have to be pretty persuasive because the man always goes over the ship meticulously every time he gets a chance.
“Come on. Let me show you,” you urge, taking a step onto the ramp, holding out your hand to gesture to the back of the ship.
Tech huffs and scoops up his data pad as he follows you. “I found no serious concerns when we landed two days ago. Did you not check that plating for damage?”
You’re going to have to lie. “I did, and it may be a more intensive job than just replacing the parts. Parts, I might remind you, that you don’t carry.”
Just a bit further to the rear of the ship. Just a little longer. Hunter said he’d let her know when Tech could return. Just once, you wish the Marauder were a bigger ship and Tech’s not an engineering genius.
Even as you stop at the rear of the ship and start looking, Tech moves up beside you, his eyes scanning for damage.
He adjusts his goggles once…then twice…then clears his throat delicately. Finally, he turns to you, his expression neutral with one brown brow cocked high above the goggles. He studies your face long enough that you squirm.
“Something the matter, Tech?” you ask innocently, eyes wide, your twitchy hands clasped behind your back.
“You have every symptom of one who is guilty of something.”
You want to gulp down your guilt, but that would confirm his suspicions. Instead you stand as relaxed as you can and say, “Guilty?”
“We have known you since the war started, and you have never displayed such a shocking attempt at subterfuge. I must inform you that you are no good at this sort of thing.” While his expression remained neutral, his gaze shifted back toward the ramp.
You cringe as his focus returns to you. He slips his data pad into its pocket attached to his belt then pins you with brown eyes shining with sudden understanding. A tiny smile lifts his lips, and you release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“You are the decoy. The distraction. Your job—at this profanely early hour—is to lure me away from my family. I am sure my sister employed you for this mission. Omega is quite good at maneuvering those she cares for.” He glances over the ship and points out the obvious. “The ship is in excellent condition.” He bows his head toward you. “What I am unable to repair, you can. Since it really is too early for such nonsense perhaps you can enlighten me as to why we are here.” Again, that one brow lifts.
“Well, you see—”
“Tech, where are you? Do you know what time it is?”
You and Tech can see Omega leaning out of the ship at the ramp entrance.
“Come inside. It’s cold out here,” she comments and gestures for him to return. She ducks back inside herself.
Tech hums softly but turns to enter the ship. But you catch his arm and stop him.
“You’re a brilliant man, and you know something’s up. I’m just the friend they knew you’d trust. The one you’d follow at a time of morning when even the Maker wouldn’t leave bed. I don’t know what they’ve planned, but Hunter said you’d like it. So…” you hesitate for a beat. “Don’t spoil their fun. Pretend you’re surprised. Can you do that? Not for me,” you whisper as you shrug, “but for those guys and that kid who love you.”
Tech focuses on you as he mulls over your words. Your request. Finally, he pats your hand where it still rests on his arm. “I shall appear to be the epitome of surprise.”
You stay as he steps forward, but he stops and nods at you. “Thank you for being a good friend.”
He marches up the ramp, and as he disappears inside you hear, “Surprise!”
Tumblr Prompt 2: don’t even think about it.
Don’t Even Think About It!
Lady JaRuc
“Don’t even think about it,” warned Crosshair, his Firepuncher rifle held ready in case of trouble. “Rule number one?” he asked sarcastically.
Omega got exactly two feet onto the ramp before a thin strong arm flew out and stopped her in her tracks. “You go first when we explore any new place,” the little girl said with a heavy sigh and a large roll of her eyes.
“Always, and don’t you forget it.” Crosshair scanned the meadow and far tree line, always keeping the energetic youngster in his sight. “Two steps behind. Understood?” he asked, knowing she knew the rules but sometimes forgot when curiosity hit hard.
“Yes, sir,” the kid said as she slumped.
Seeing her down didn’t do his heart any good, but he wasn’t about to tell her how soft and warm her mere presence made him feel. Best to give her something to look forward to.
“Trees or meadow first?” he asked without looking at her.
“Trees!”
“You know what to look for. Be aware. Stay close, and comm the others if trouble shows up.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
* * * *
“Don’t even think about it!” Hunter spoke with his sergeant tone when he entered the cockpit and saw Omega trying to spin his vibroknife.
“But I want to do what you do,” she whined, tempted to whirl the big blade just to show him she could do so safely.
“You don’t have long enough arms yet. You’d slice yourself open like a Meliron. As soon as you get a little bigger, I’ll teach you, but for now…” He left the rest unsaid as he carefully reached over the seat and removed the big knife from her grip.
“But I don’t grow fast like you and the others. It’ll take me years to get as big as you,” the girl said as she slumped in the chair and crossed her arms like Hunter and Crosshair often did. “I’ll be careful.”
“We want to keep you safe, Megs. The best way to do that is to teach you how to use things like this safely. But part of that is getting big enough.” Hunter ruffled her hair, which put a tiny frown on her face. “In the meantime how about helping me gather some of those greens that Tech spotted by the stream. They’ll be a good addition to our next meal,” he invited.
“Who’s cooking?” Omega asked suspiciously as she stood.
“Echo.”
“Oh good then let’s go,” she grabbed his hand and practically pulled him toward the ramp.
“Wait! Are you saying I can’t cook?” Hunter feigned offence but knew he really couldn’t. However, the topic of his cooking always made Omega laugh. He was right.
She bumped her shoulder against his hip armor and giggled. “Sir, yes, sir. You can’t cook, and we all know it.”
“O…me…ga,” he drawled to the little girl running happily down the ramp.
* * * *
“Don’t even think about it,” Echo told Omega when she reached up for a new bowl. “You’re as bad as Hunter when it comes to cooking.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say,” Omega said as she folded her arms on top of the counter next to her cyber brother.
“Sorry, kiddo. The truth, as is often said, hurts. You’re a good helper, but you get distracted too easily when you’re cooking. I recall a few over-cooked meals when you were the cook.”
“Do you ever forget anything?” she complained.
“My mind might forget, but my stomach remembers,” he teased.
“No one lets me do anything.”
Echo finally stopped stirring the stew he was making and studied his sister. She leaned next to him with a forlorn look on her face. She was the one who always wanted to do more. Humm, maybe he could give her something to do and brighten up that dejected expression.
“We don’t have a dessert for last meal,” he hummed as if to himself. “Say, Omega, can you put together a cake if I tell you what do to? I have to keep stirring this, or it’ll burn. We’d all love something sweet, and I know Wrecker will love it especially. The cake I have in mind is his favorite.”
“Can I? Really?”
“Sure can. Ready to follow instructions just like on a mission?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” replied the little girl, a glowing smile lighting up her face.
* * * *
“Don’t even think about it!” Wrecker reached over her shoulder and gently removed the live round bomb from her grasp. He’d started showing her pieces of ordinance and how to use them when she picked up the bomb, absentmindedly tossing it from hand to hand. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack doing that, kid. That ain’t no toy!”
“But you wouldn’t have live things here aboard the Marauder, would you?” she asked innocently.
“Kid, all this is live. The ammo, the bombs…everything. When we’re on a mission, I don’t have time to activate all these. I have to grab and run. Now the timers do have to be set while we’re in the mission.” He held up a small box with a chrono-like face. “You have to learn how to set these.” He reached over and pulled up a box attached to a bomb. “And you have to learn how to de-arm these. It’s like flying the Marauder. You just have to learn, and that takes time.”
Wrecker didn’t usually talk that seriously. His was more of a generous friendly nature. Still he didn’t want his little sister blowing up herself or the brothers.
Seeing her downturned face, looking like she’d been scolded, his heart told him she needed something positive, and he had just the thing.
“Hey, kid, sometimes we have to throw these things in order to take out a bunch of clankers. Let’s see how well you can throw so if we ever need you to toss one of these, you’ll be ready.”
“Can we do that now? We’re planet-side, and there’s a clear spot not far from here. Crosshair and I checked it out earlier.”
“Sounds perfect.” Wrecker picked up several de-fused bombs.
“We’re going to use real bombs,” Omega asked, her sudden enthusiasm plummeting.
“Huh? Oh these…nah, these are just shells we can use for practice. There’s no explosive devices inside. We can chunk these all day long and never worry about blowing up,” he said as he grinned and gave her a bag of practice ordinance.
She hung the soft handle off her shoulder and grabbed her biggest brother’s hands. “Bet I can toss one of these a long way,” she gushed as the two headed for the ramp.
“I bet you can too,” Wrecker said, “and if you improve then I own you a whole cup of Mantel Mix. Does that sound like a deal?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” came the tiny blonde’s happy reply.
* * * *
“Don’t even think about it!” Tech sat up suddenly, as if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the pilot’s chair late that evening. Without looking at the small child in the copilot’s chair next to him, he grabbed the control collar that guided the ship then shot a raised eyebrow at Omega. She eased her hands back from the control and held up both, showing him her hands were empty.
He checked the control panel in front of him, hoping she’d not touched any of the buttons he’d shown her earlier that day in her flying lesson. When he was satisfied that things were as they should be, he allowed the ship to resume course, on autopilot, as it had been before his little sister attempted to resume her lessons…without his guidance.
“What are you doing here this late at night?”
Omega had the grace to look chastised though Tech never sounded angry. Merely disappointed. She could handle that tone from her other brothers, but when he spoke in that tone of voice she always felt like she’d let him down.
“I thought since you were asleep that I could guide the Marauder for you. You showed me how this afternoon.” Her answer sounded sincere but vastly naïve.
Tech didn’t roll his eyes as Crosshair would have. Nor did he try to put her off like Cid might with a wave of her Trandoshan hand and a ‘yeah, yeah, Tiny’.” He was her instructor, and though she attempted flying without him, her efforts came from the heart. He was asleep when he should have been monitoring the comms. She had no way of knowing that any problem would have awakened him instantly.
“I am aware that you are trying to help, but you are not trained enough yet to take solo control of this ship. Your intentions are admirable, but your skills are not yet sufficient to handle this ship alone.” He adjusted his goggles in order to see her every expression.
She sat with her eyes downcast. She appeared to be upset. Tech never quite knew how to handle Omega’s varying moods, but he did understand her attempt to help.
“In time, you will be skilled enough to handle any ship alone.”
“Will I be as good as you,” she asked quietly, cutting a teary glance at him.
“I believe you may exceed me one day, Omega. You merely lack training at the moment, and perhaps a few years of growth would help so you can reach the flight collar and the pedals at the same time,” he said with a just a touch of humor in his tone that brought a smile to her lips. “Perhaps I can show you the nav panel, and you can start charting our location and next site for landing? Would that be acceptable?”
“Sir, yes, sir. That would be great. Then I’ll be helping the squad,” the sunny little girl said as she hopped out of the copilot seat and ran to stand beside the navigation panel, waiting for her mentor and brother.
* * * *
“Don’t even think about it,” Omega warned as she stood with crossed arms and tapping foot, facing her brothers.
“About what?” Wrecker asked as he squirmed, a dead giveaway that something was up.
“No idea what you’re talking about, kid,” Crosshair said as he imitated her pose that she learned from him, adjusting the toothpick in his mouth.
Tech remained quiet, but he knew what she was talking about.
Echo held up his flesh and scomp arms in a shrug.
“What are you talking about, Megs,” Hunter asked innocently.
“You’re planning something, but you won’t tell me,” she stated flatly, her feelings hurt.
The brothers gave each other a look that only they could read. Finally, Hunter came forward and took a knee in front of her, his hands going out to hold each shoulder. “I suppose you caught us then.” He glanced over his shoulder to see the nods his brothers gave him then turned around to face his little sister again. “We can’t sneak anything passed you, can we?”
Omega nodded once so hard her chin snapped.
“I guess we shouldn’t try to surprise you with a visit to Pabu where we planned a Life Day celebration just for you, huh,” he said.
The frown disappeared, Omega’s mouth fell open, and her eyes went wide. “Really? Pabu and a party? For me?
As if they’d practice it, together the five grinning brothers said, “Sir, yes, sir.”
Tumblr Prompt 3: Give me your hand
Give Me Your Hand
Lady JaRuc
“Give me your hand, kid,” Hunter called down to Omega even as molten steel splashed up around her.
Desperate for help, relieved to see Hunter and one of the two women currently trying to steal what the Batch was trying to steal, she reached out and let her brother’s strong hand pull her up. She might have rushed in and hugged him, but in the middle of a mission was no time to get sentimental. That was almost the first thing she’d learned since joining the squad. Despite her wishes for hugs, she followed Hunter through the rest of the mission.
* * * *
“Give me your hand, Omega,” yelled Hunter as he pulled her from a deep hole on a karkin’ moon in the middle of nowhere in the galaxy. “We needed that part, but you shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”
“But, Hunter, you were hurt, and I’m small enough to get there. Look,” Omega said as she held up the part that Tech needed to repair the Marauder.
* * * *
“Give me your hand, Wrecker,” Omega cooed to the big man as he slowly came awake after surgery. “Feeling any better?” she asked as she rubbed his massive hand.
But Wrecker wouldn’t look at her. He turned his head away as he swiped something off his face.
“Brother? You didn’t mean it,” she whispered low enough that the others didn’t hear. The brothers along with Rex were on Bracca in a ship that crashed. Rex knew the ship but never told her why it crashed.
“But I tried to kill you, Megs,” the man whined, his words thick with tears.
“It was the chip, Wrecker. Not you.” She patted his hand and reminded him, “My big brother would never hurt me.”
“Aw, Megs, I tried.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I scared you though. What if it happens again?” The man wasn’t quite convinced the chip was out of his head, and he no longer had to worry about someone else controlling him.
“I was scared. Because you’re a big man and I’m not too big—”
Wrecker interrupted. “You’re gonna have nightmares, kid.” He managed to turn his head toward her.
“But I have you to help me get through the night because you’re my big brother, and that’s what we do…we help each other. We keep each other safe.”
* * * *
“I’d give him my hand if he’d take it,” Omega said to a moonyo who played nearby outside their home on Pabu. Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair rescued her along with other clones and one captive Zillo beast at Tantiss base only a week ago. Each of her brothers returned home seriously injured. While Hunter and Wrecker lost no body parts, Crosshair lost his right hand.
“He’s a sniper, you know,” she continued to the uninterested moonyo. “He needs that hand.”
“No, I don’t,” came a solemn voice behind her.
Omega jumped. She had no idea anyone was nearby. Especially Crosshair. So much pain, anguish, and trauma they’d shared while held on Tantiss. She thought she knew this particular brother quite well by now.
“Your hand’s too little anyway,” he snorted as he came up beside her, his right wrist wrapped in bandages. He moved slowly as befitted a man who had gone through imprisonment, torture, and, most recently, battle.
“But it’s my fault you lost yours,” Omega said with a sniff, tears starting to snake down her cheeks.
“No one’s fault. Battle. Happens.” At the best of times, Crosshair hoarded his words. But he knew Omega probably better than any of his other brothers. He recognized her feelings, the guilt she’d carry if he didn’t do something about it. “Doc says I can have a cyber hand fitted soon enough. Don’t need yours.” He refused to look at her tooka expression.
“But if you ever need a hand…well, you can reach out for mine. I’ll always help you,” Omega promised, her heart eased by his few but important words.
Crosshair merely hummed as Omega leaned against his side, one hand wrapped around his arm, always there if he needed help. He might not want her aid, but he’d get it. Because like Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo—and her long lost Tech—she loved him. And for her, that’s all that counted.