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When Cody had first seen his latest orders, he had been surprised.
It was not at all standard for him to be assigned on a mission with an elite squad. Let alone the one led by a clone he had long known.
He hadn’t seen Crosshair in a while. While he would bet every credit in the Republic that Crosshair hadn’t changed at all from his unfriendly snarky and cold personality, Cody still felt as if he would prefer to be on a mission with him. Obviously, a member of the renowned Bad Batch would be far more competent than a nat-born. He would certainly prefer a mission carried out with a high degree of competency.
It took him a few hours to realize that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to see Crosshair.
Recently, he’d been having some strange doubts. Some - feelings, that the Empire wasn’t quite the glorious bastion of hope he’d believed it was. None of the nat-borns seemed to share this opinion, and most of the clones he’d interacted with acted oddly like droids. He’d seen Boil, once, but Boil hadn’t recognized him or known his name. And - that felt wrong.
He didn’t know why. It just - did.
Crosshair had not been nearly as droid-like when they’d last interacted. He hadn’t been quite normal, yes, but he still recognized his name. He was still relatively intact.
Maybe he also had these thoughts. Perhaps he understood why Cody was doubting the very fact that he’d believed with all his heart all this time.
It was a slim hope but - it was hope. It would always be risky.
And then when the Elite Squad proceeded to miss three check-ins in a row, as well suddenly becoming untrackable by the Empire’s scanners, Cody’s flimsy hope seemed to melt.
Crosshair had been loyal to the Empire, last he knew. Very loyal. And the nat-borns he had been with were probably loyal too. He doubted that a team with Crosshair would have been defeated by rogue bandits or rebels, so - probably some of their tech had malfunctioned. Maybe their comms had broken in a fire fight, and they’d turn up slightly late and battered, but functional.
The Empire didn’t seem to agree, according to the next orders he was issued.
They’d assumed that their Elite Squad had been taken down by bandits or pirates, and that they could send a small squad to retrieve them. He’d been tasked to lead it, with the other three members being standard nat-borns.
If there were pirates there and they’d already defeated Crosshair and his nat-borns, then throwing more nat-borns at them would help little. Imperial nat-borns tended to fall short against pirates or clone rebels, and so they would at best be a distraction for him to do the heavy lifting. At worst, they would be a weakness that would only get him captured or killed. But orders were orders.
And he rather suspected equipment failure was the cause of the delay anyway. Maybe they’d been forced to land on a planet to get something fixed. Even if it took longer, he would run planetary scans of each planet that the Elite Squad would have passed to make sure they hadn’t landed there.
If the nat-borns complained, he was their superior officer. Normally he wouldn’t throw his weight around like that, but it was necessary to best complete their mission.
So he got his gear together, ready for the mission. And he made sure that extra fuel and repair supplies were loaded onto the ship.
—
It was an hour before they were set to embark that Cody received an urgent notification on his comm.
He was being summoned to see Vice Admiral Rampart.
Rampart wasn’t his direct superior. He didn’t answer to Rampart at all, actually. Rampart was the one that Elite Squad, and thus Crosshair, reported to.
This was not standard.
Crosshair’s superior summoning him before he went on a mission to find Crosshair? It was suspicious on many levels.
Something was - wrong.
He considered this when heading up to the higher levels, but came to no reasonable solution by the time he was standing outside.
The door slid open to him, revealing the grey office. For a Vice Admiral, it was rather restrained. Though this wasn’t his regular office, Cody guessed, so the lack of opulent decorations was to be expected. Rampart was only over here because the rebels had started to converge in the area.
As he stepped in, Rampart glanced up from a datapad. He was seated at the table, the datapad before him, but the moment he saw Cody, his eyes narrowed.
“CT-2224.”
Cody paused a respectful distance from the desk and saluted. “Sir.” He said flatly.
Rampart stared at him for a moment. “I hear you are leading the mission to locate my Elite Squad.”
“Yes sir.”
Rampart’s head tilted consideringly. “Tell me, 2224, what would you do if any of them were found to be - loyal to the rebels?”
If Cody hadn’t been trained in keeping his face unreactive from years of dealing with idiocy and chaos, his jaw would have dropped. Alarm bells were ringing in his mind.
The first thing that came to mind was not what he’d thought it would be. His mind came up with Crosshair, allying with Rex or Wolffe or some others he cared about Empire deserters. And his first thought was - he wouldn’t shoot them. There was no way he would. Even if they would shoot him for returning a failure to the Empire, he wouldn’t shoot them.
But - he was a loyal Imperial, was he not?
They were the rebels who rioted against order. And - if Crosshair was one of them, then he deserved - the same as they did.
But before Cody could come up with an answer, Rampart spoke again. “Some of that squad have been known to be - undesirably acquainted with the enemy.”
Cody knew perfectly well what Rampart was referring to. Crosshair and the Bad Batch, on Kamino. Privately, Cody was still stunned that Crosshair had stayed with the Empire on Kamino. He would never mention that aloud. Clearly, Rampart still suspected that something had happened there, though he didn’t know what.
“I will do what needs to be done, sir.” The words, though a lie, did not feel wrong on his tongue. They felt like what he needed to say. But - they were a lie. He wouldn’t kill them. Right?
Rampart nodded at that, seemingly satisfied. “Of course. Good thing, that chip. Dismissed, 2224.” He looked pointedly back down at his datapad, clearly dismissing him.
Cody sharply turned on his heel and strode back out of the room. He didn’t take a breath until he was in the elevator, and then he exhaled sharply, pressing his hand to his head.
Why was this so difficult? It should be obvious. He’d either kill the rebel traitors or he wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t because he’d known Crosshair as a cadet. He’d known Rex practically forever, in comparison, and Wolffe was his batchmate. And he would because - they were traitors. They were inciting chaos and disorder and he was making the galaxy a better place.
Right?
That was what he was doing. The Empire - it was too harsh sometimes. Sometimes, they could better achieve their goals by not killing everyone and simply making sensible deals with them. He’d tried to stop the needless killing before - until he’d noted his superior’s narrowed eyes on him, and the subtle threats towards decommissioning or reconditioning made during his reports. He’d thought that had died with the Kaminoans. And then - he’d tried to limit it to where it wouldn’t be noticed, trying to avoid catching his superior’s eye in such a way.
The clones that he seriously suspected were secretly rebels were his friends. Or, at least in Crosshair’s case, vode clones he sometimes respected on rare occasions. There was no way he could kill them, or even drag them back to the Empire to see them executed.
But then they were out there, potentially starting wars and fights that got innocent civilians killed in the crossfire. They were getting people arrested for helping them, and having people tortured and killed for simply being related to a rebel. If they just - sat back and accepted their place in the Empire, and didn’t challenge it, then there wouldn’t be any problems. Really, they were the ones who were causing the problems. This wasn’t a stupid fight in a bunkroom anymore, this was innocent civilians dying for no real reason. And - if they were unwilling to give up and support justice, then - they deserved execution for their actions.
Truly, he didn’t know what he thought.
As he neared the ship, he shifted the circling, chaotic thoughts aside in favor of mission related ones.
He had a mission to complete. He would find the Elite Squad. If they were in fact traitors, he would - deal with them the way that seemed fit at the moment. Whatever that may be.
And if Crosshair was in fact loyal, he would make sure to inform Crosshair of his superior’s suspicions. He would not see anyone else recommissioned or decommissioned on his watch.