Chapter Text
Everything burned. That was all Crosshair could think about as he lay there. The world around him was a dark blur, the echo of the flash from the ion engine still lingering across his vision. He closed his eyes against it, only to find it painting the back of his eyelids. His bro- Clone Force 99 was getting away, he knew it, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t catch his breath. Couldn’t escape the persistent burning.
The hum of an approaching ship sounded, followed by a bright flash of light over his closed eyelids, and the sound of boots approaching. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he stirred at the distant call of a reg. Pushing through the pain, the burning becoming just another constant to put up with, he grabbed the trooper’s hand. He did his best to ignore how he only appeared to him as a white blur, almost painful to look at under the bright headlights.
“They’re headed for their ship. Stop them!”
He slumped back down as the trooper commed CT-8508, getting no response.
“CT-8508, respond!”
Blasterfire could be heard in the background when the comm crackled in response. “Sir! They’re at their ship, trying to take it back. We- kark! We need reinforcemen-”
Crosshair’s hand balled into a fist when the comm cut off, the trooper trying once more to get a response. With a growl, he moved to push himself up, a hand landing on his shoulder to steady him.
“Sir, you shouldn’t move. We’ve got a medic on the way.”
He shoved the hand away and pushed himself upright, turning a cry of pain into a growl, a quiet groan slipping out as the world spun and lights danced across his persistently blurry vision. It was nauseating. He grabbed the hand when it reached for him again, trapping the trooper under a fierce glare as he bit out new orders.
“They’re already there; they won’t be here for much longer. Get me on that shuttle, and don’t let them get away!”
“Yes, sir.” He grit his teeth as the trooper, and another who’d emerged from the shuttle, helped him on board. He saw the flash of what must have been the medic hovering nearby, following them on board. Nausea rose in him as his wounds were jostled, his head burned and throbbed, and his vision swam, refusing to focus on anything. He closed his eyes against it until he felt himself settled onboard, the ship shuddering around him as it took off.
Echo pulled Tech behind cover as more troopers appeared to flank them. They’d been doing well staying relatively hidden, but there were a lot of Imperials and only so many places to hide between them and the Marauder. He ducked out and fired at a trooper trying to flank Wrecker, who was busy with another two, lifting one off the ground and hurling him at the other. Beside him, Tech rose to cover their flank.
Echo swore as he was forced back into cover. “Wrecker, we need to move!”
Wrecker dug around in a pouch, pulling out a grenade and lobbing it into the biggest group before turning away. He ran back towards his brothers, scooping up what used to be a wall panel. When he reached them, he spun to face the Imperials, holding the panel up as a shield. Wordlessly, Echo and Tech ducked behind to join him, finding a pace as they began to move again. As Tech lobbed another grenade pilfered from Wrecker, Echo activated his comm.
“Hunter, Omega! Could use a pickup any day now!”
“Look up!”
Echo didn’t need to look up to hear the familiar roar of the Marauder flying overhead. Voices cried out when heavy fire rained down on the troopers as a line lowered to the Batch. Glancing up, he saw Omega’s head peeking down at them.
Wrecker wasted no time. Slamming the panel in place behind them, he lifted Tech, letting him grab hold higher up on the line. He then held Echo close as he grabbed on himself. Echo let him, laying cover fire with his one hand still free to shoot, as they were lifted up into the ship. Omega greeted them at the top, ushered inside by Tech as soon as he reached her.
As Echo headed for the copilot’s seat, he snuck a glance at Hunter, wondering whether their leader would have reservations about the dogfight that was likely coming. They had fought their brothers multiple times by now and killed several of them, but this was definitely the largest-scale and most lethal fight so far, and they knew that Crosshair’s life was on the line this time.
There wasn’t much he could read on Hunter’s face other than determination to survive this battle. Tech looked much the same as he took over the ship controls. Echo only allowed himself a fleeting second of ponderance before he focused on preparing the hyperspace calculation.
Several vibrations shook the ship and wrested Echo’s attention away from the binary language filtering through his mind.
“We’re taking heavy fire,” Tech reported. “Hold on.”
The Marauder twisted in a tight corkscrew through the upper atmosphere toward freedom, but surprisingly, the Imperial shuttle on their tail kept up with their movements. Echo frowned; no reg could keep up with Tech’s flying. Unless they had help from a certain sniper who knew the Bad Batch and their tactics all too well.
“Rear deflector shields are failing,” Tech reported, his voice straining as he yanked the controls in another nauseating spin to avoid the stream of energy bolts.
“I hit ‘em,” Wrecker called from his station at the tail gun, but the good news was immediately overshadowed by a tremendous impact and lurch through the ship. The walls seemed to groan around them as multiple alarms sprung up on the dashboard.
Echo swore under his breath. “The hyperdrive’s offline. The engine’s malfunctioning, too.”
“Wrecker, get ready,” Tech said simply as he adjusted the ship’s power distribution in favour of the shields and weapons. Echo caught on quickly to what he was trying to do and took over the task with his scomp.
“Ready for what? Whoa-”
The Marauder spiraled into a nosedive, smoke trailing behind it. The Imperial shuttle followed close behind, still shooting relentlessly. Wrecker reflexively returned fire and instantly breached the enemy’s shield with the newly rerouted power. As soon as the scanners confirmed their pursuer falling, Tech pulled back as hard as he could. The failing engines sputtered as Echo restored as much power to them as they could take in their state.
“Strap in!” he called as the ground spun dangerously close.
The engine roared to about half power, enough for Tech to get them parallel with the ground, but not enough to avoid the rapidly approaching bridge of what appeared to be another scrapped Venator-class cruiser. Echo clenched his jaw tight as the bottom of the Marauder scraped along the top. They seemed to be sliding smoothly across until something from the cruiser caught on the Marauder’s hull, sending it spinning over the side. A cry sounded from the back of the ship.
He caught a glimpse of Tech wrestling with the controls out of the corner of his eye as he braced for impact, hoping that the others had strapped in. Despite that, the back of his head slammed hard against his seat on impact, leaving him seeing stars as they slid to a stop against the side of the Venator.
Echo sat for a long moment, catching his breath and blinking away stars as the dust settled. He didn’t realise he'd closed his eyes until a hand landed on his arm, prompting him to blink them open and look over. He met Omega’s worried eyes, a small smile appearing on her face when she saw he was okay.
He groaned when pain lanced through his neck as he raised his head and moved to stand. Omega stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“You should stay still, Echo. You’re hurt.”
He gave her his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, just a little rattled.” He settled back down in the seat anyway, giving her that small comfort. Swivelling in the seat, he looked over the rest of his vode.
Wrecker was holding his shoulder with a grimace, tentatively rolling it. Hunter seemed fine, but it was hard to tell from where he was crouched beside an unmoving Tech, who still lay over the controls. Concern rose in Echo as Hunter’s attempts to wake their brother failed.
His attention was drawn from the pair when Omega approached and began rummaging through Tech’s bag, careful not to jostle him too much. Hunter’s brow furrowed, and he was about to object when she pulled out the medscanner from the pack, making sure it still worked and holding it up to Tech.
When the blue light swept over him, Tech stirred, eyes screwing tight before blinking open.
“Hey, Tech, you alright?” Echo tried as Tech got his bearings.
With a groan, he began to push himself upright. The attempt, and Omega’s protest as the scanner finished, were cut short with a cry of pain as soon as he put weight on his right arm. His eyes screwed shut again as he tried his best to breathe through the pain. Hunter kept a grounding hand on his shoulder, looking over to Omega.
“Sitrep.”
“Oh! Uh, his elbow’s dislocated, and he’s got a mild concussion.”
Hunter swore. “Come on, Tech, up and at ‘em.” He began moving Tech to sit up, Echo reaching over to help, ignoring the pain in his neck and shoulders as he stretched over.
Once Tech was sat up, Hunter rose to stand beside him, Echo not missing the sergeant’s wince as he straightened. Catching his scrutinising gaze, Hunter gave what was meant to be a reassuring look.
“I’m fine, got knocked around a bit when we got to the ship.”
“He got thrown into a wall during the fight,” Omega snitched. “He’s probably got bruised ribs.”
Hunter sent her a scorned look, which she ignored, refocusing on Tech as he blinked up at them again.
“How do you feel, Tech?”
Tech let out a long breath. “I’m fine. My head hurts, and I cannot move my elbow.”
Omega frowned down at the med scanner. “It’s a simple dislocation. Can you move your hand?” Tech grimaced as his fingers curled into a loose fist in his lap. “Okay, that’s good. We can try to relocate it, or we can leave it until we’re somewhere safe. Either way, we’ll need a sling.”
Wrecker disappeared back into the ship at that, returning shortly with the medkit. Omega thanked him and began rummaging through it. As she searched for the sling, she threw some bacta to Hunter and set aside some hypos.
Tech hummed. “I would prefer the added stability of my joint in its socket.” He eyed Wrecker and his still-hurting shoulder before turning to Hunter. “Hunter, I will need you to help.”
Hunter blinked, then smoothed his face into a look of grim determination. He nodded and got into position as Tech instructed him. His voice got tighter as the joint was touched and moved, but didn’t falter until Hunter made the final quick pull. Tech couldn’t hold back another cry of pain, doubling over with shaky breaths.
He sat up when Omega approached with the sling. “You okay?” He took a deep breath and nodded, letting her place his arm in the sling. “Do you want a hypo?” Another nod, and Omega injected one into his neck.
As he relaxed, letting the pain settle, the rest of the Batch looked themselves over. Hunter’s ribs were bruised; so was Wrecker’s shoulder where it had dislocated slightly, then relocated when he’d been sent into a wall in the back of the ship. Echo’s neck still ached from the whiplash, and his head throbbed lightly, but he was otherwise fine, cybernetics all in one piece. Omega was the only one who seemed unhurt.
“Are there any Imperials still active on our scanners?” asked Hunter as everyone finished checking themselves over.
Tech almost reached for the ship controls before remembering the state he was in. Echo beat him to it, pulling up a visual feed from the ship’s scanners. “Negative, but we can’t be sure they won’t still come for us.”
“How’s the ship looking?”
“I’ll run a diagnostic.”
“I am certain that we will need replacement parts that we do not have on board,” Tech answered before the diagnostic had even completed. “We will have to scavenge for them.”
“That’s not the only thing we’ll have to scavenge for,” Wrecker piped up, sounding uncharacteristically crestfallen. The others grew quiet for a second as they realized what he meant.
Now that the adrenaline from the dogfight and crash was leaving them, it began to hit them that they didn’t know whether Crosshair was dead or alive. The fact that their scanners couldn’t pick up any Imperial vessels or troop movement didn’t bode well for their mind-controlled brother.
Hunter’s expression wavered, but Omega was resolute. “Crosshair might need us. We have to at least check it out.”
“Omega…”
“You said it yourself. We don’t leave our own behind.”
Hunter searched Omega’s bright eyes for a moment and seemed to come to a decision. He drew in a measured breath, cautious of his hurting ribs, and stood up fully. “Wrecker, Echo, with me. Omega, stay here and help Tech with the ship.”
“I would advise against splitting our numbers at this time,” Tech protested. “I am able to walk, and I still have a healthy arm to fight with.”
Everyone’s disapproval showed on their faces. It was always a point of grim irony that Clone Force 99’s designated medic couldn’t be trusted to take his own injuries seriously, especially after the painkillers kicked in.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Hunter deadpanned. “Omega, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid with that arm.”
“But… I want to check on Crosshair,” she muttered, more to herself than to Hunter, knowing she was going to lose that debate.
“Crosshair’s dangerous. Have you forgotten that he ordered his men to aim for you? I’m not letting him near you.”
“You shouldn’t talk about him like that… you know it’s his inhibitor chip.”
That was the excuse that Omega stuck with, but even she was losing a bit of confidence in that statement. When it came to the finer details of the clones’ actions, where did the chip end and their own decisions begin? Was it really the chip that made Crosshair aim for the kid?
Hunter sighed, unable as always to bear the sad look in her eyes. “Look. You’re this squad’s medic as much as Tech is. And that means staying behind and keeping an eye on the wounded. Your medical training will be helpful in case something happens, and you can also help with ship repairs. So stay behind and do your duty, soldier.”
“...Yes, sir.” Omega sounded unenthusiastic, but at least not rebellious. Tech looked mildly offended at the labelling of himself as “the wounded.”
In a few minutes, Tech had typed out a list of parts for them to find on their way. Hunter looked it over before handing the datapad to Wrecker. With a short nod and quick wave to Tech and Omega, the three headed out into the junkyards of Bracca.
Hunter led the way as they picked through the often unstable environment, following the dark pillar of smoke that rose, almost hidden against the night sky. Their helmet lights swept across any wreckages they passed, searching idly for replacement parts while they focused on finding Crosshair. The planet had a strange haunting beauty to it, like the ghosts of a bygone era stood over them, watching as they made their way through. Echo tried not to think too deeply about their place in that.
They stopped once when Wrecker spotted a small ship that seemed to be in relatively good condition. Hunter and Echo watched his back as he opened it up and dug through the guts of the machine. It wasn’t long before he pulled something out, glancing over the list before putting it into his pack and turning back to the others.
They continued on, making their way under an arch formed by the hooked beak of a Separatist dreadnought, all that remained of the original cruiser. Before they emerged on the other side, Hunter held up a hand. Echo and Wrecker stopped, watching Hunter as he seemed to listen closely to whatever caught his attention. Echo could smell smoke in the air, but couldn’t see anything through the overhang they stood under. With his helmet on, he had no idea what exactly was going through the sergeant’s mind, but if they had finally found Crosshair, his imagination didn’t have to wander far.
Hunter seemed to take a bracing breath before he motioned for them to follow quietly. Neither made a sound as they emerged. His grip tightened on his blaster when the Imperial shuttle came into view.
Wrecker had gotten it good; the entire left side of the cockpit was a warped, smoking mess. It seemed like the shuttle had gotten caught on some of the wreckage that littered the planet’s surface, similar to what happened to the Marauder. But unlike them, the Imperials had been a lot less lucky. The entire side of the ship was torn open and warped, the unmoving body of a trooper hanging out of it, blood staining the jagged edge. Echo breathed out a quiet remembrance as they approached.
Hunter reached the shuttle first, shining his light inside. Nothing moved. The entire place was eerily still and silent. Though clearly Hunter heard something, or smelled it, because with a quick glance back to the others, he went in. Echo was quick to follow, Wrecker staying outside to keep watch, since he was too big to move easily through the wreckage anyway.
Inside was a mess of warped metal and sparking wires. More trooper bodies lay inside, but far fewer than there should have been, though considering one side of the ship was missing, it wasn’t a mystery why.
“Echo!” His gaze shot over to the cockpit where Hunter had disappeared into moments before. He couldn’t help the sharp inhale when he entered.
The cockpit was a mess, but not as bad as the hold. Wrecker’s shooting had reamed the pilot’s side, the pilot dead in his seat, but he seemed to have been able to largely avoid Crosshair. Echo thanked his brother’s large heart for that, but part of him doubted it meant much when he took in how bad Crosshair looked.
Bad was an understatement. Their brother was strapped into the copilot’s seat, the only reason he was still alive. His face and scalp were blistered and red with fresh burns that stretched below the neck of his blacks. His breathing was short and ragged, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen, and considering the extent of the burns covering him, Echo wasn’t surprised.
Hunter hovered by his side, his hand staying close to his holstered blaster at all times, like their little brother could suddenly jump up and attack them at any time.
“Can he be moved?” Echo asked, snapping Hunter out of whatever trance he was in, helmet looking up to meet Echo’s with a short nod.
“I can smell blood, but I’m not sure where it’s coming from. We’ll need to move him outside to check him over properly.”
Wordlessly, Echo positioned himself to help Hunter unfasten the harness and move Crosshair out of the seat, Hunter holding under his shoulders while Echo got his legs. Crosshair groaned at the movement, but stayed limp between them.
“Is he alright?” Wrecker asked as they emerged from the shuttle. Neither answered as they found a flat enough spot to gently lower Crosshair down, propping him up against a wall panel to help him breathe. Now that he was laying down, their lights revealed blood trailing from his left leg from some hidden wound.
Echo stayed crouched by him, pulling at the leg armour to try to find the source of the blood.
“I don’t like the sound of his breathing,” Wrecker said.
Echo sighed. “Well, we can’t do much about that, about most of this, actually, without enough supplies.”
Hunter asked the question they were all dreading. “What about his chip?”
Echo pressed his lips into a thin line as he abandoned the search for the leg wound to inspect the burns on Crosshair’s head. “Couldn’t tell you what kind of damage these burns have done to it. Where was he, behind the engine when it went off?” Behind him, Hunter swore. “We’ll have to get it out either way. We’ll just have to be careful.”
“Where though? We can’t go back to the medbay we used.”
Wrecker beat Echo to it. “What about the one we crashed on? It seemed mostly intact, and close enough for a quick exit.” He muttered to himself as an afterthought, “If the ship can fly by then.”
Before anyone could reply, Crosshair groaned again, shifting beside Echo. He didn’t miss how Hunter’s hand went automatically to his blaster again at the movement. Echo turned back to face Crosshair as his eyes blinked open, scanning the area around him. They quickly narrowed in on Echo, his mouth twisting into a scowl after a few seconds.
“What, come to finish the job?” Crosshair wheezed, venom still carrying through the breathlessness.
Echo shook his head, keeping his hand away from his weapons, where Crosshair could see it. “We’re here to help you, Cross. We’re going to patch you up and get that chip out of your head.”
Crosshair’s scowl deepened, eyes returning to scanning his surroundings. Something seemed off about them; they didn’t seem as sharp as usual. “Because shooting me out of the sky is real helpful.” A wheezing cough escaped him. “I don’t need your help.”
“Sure, bud,” Echo replied absently. He was focused on Crosshair’s eyes as they looked around. They didn’t seem to lock onto anything, and he hadn’t addressed Hunter or Wrecker directly yet. His eyes seemed hazy and unfocused, and if it wasn’t for him seeming so aware now that he was awake, Echo would say he looked concussed. But he’d also seen this kind of haze before when Crosshair’s light sensitivity would flare up, or when he got caught by a flash grenade. Never this badly, but there was no mistaking it. Crosshair couldn’t see.
Leaving Crosshair to stew, Echo rose to talk quietly to Hunter and Wrecker.
“Those injuries look bad. If we don’t do something, they’ll get infected. And he’s blind.”
Wrecker looked alarmed at that. “Like, forever?”
Echo shook his head. “Hopefully not. But I’m no medic; we’ll have to let Tech have a look to be sure.”
“Alright, how are we gonna move him? He’s not gonna be happy with anything we try.”
Hunter let out a hum, helmet trained on Crosshair. “When is he ever?” His fingers tapped against his blaster at his side as he thought for a moment before nodding. “Alright, we’ll get him back to the Venator, get that chip out, and patch him up properly with whatever we find there. In the meantime, get him stable enough to move. I’ll comm the others.”
Echo met Wrecker’s gaze as Hunter stepped away, activating his comm. With a breath, he returned to Crosshair’s side, not missing his wince when the light from his helmet shone on his face.
“Alright, Crosshair. Help me out or no, this is how it’s going to go; you’re going to sit and behave while I patch you up. Then, we’re moving out, and you’re coming with us.”
Crosshair’s scowl returned, eyes not quite finding Echo’s face. “Like you helped me on Kamino?”
Echo swallowed, glad Crosshair couldn’t see him properly. He busied himself with finding the source of the bleeding, ignoring how Crosshair jolted a little at the sudden touch. “We had no choice, and you know that.”
“You could have stayed.” He almost missed the breathless whisper.
He didn’t respond to that, refocusing on the injuries. Placing the armour he’d removed to the side, he found the gash in his leg that leaked blood slowly. He put pressure on it, ignoring Crosshair’s hiss of pain as he motioned for Wrecker to find something to wrap it with.
“How’s your head?” Crosshair’s expression remained tight as he struggled to track Echo. “Wrecker’s hurt when the chip started acting up, and we need to know what sort of condition yours is in when we remove it.”
Crosshair huffed, stifling a wince as Echo started to wrap the leg wound. “It’s fine.”
Before Echo could rebut him, Hunter returned. “We ready to move?”
Echo looked Crosshair over once more before nodding to the sergeant. “Yes, sir. Ready as we’re going to be.”
Crosshair’s hissed threats went ignored as they lifted him to his feet.