Chapter Text
And it’s been six weeks since we left in July when we first put out to sea
And we’ll not be out for a while says I for at least a month or three
-**-
The atmosphere in the Marauder was heavy and dense. An exhaustion blanketed down on Hunter; the weight threatening to pull him under. His limbs felt sluggish, barley responding to his commands. He heard Tech in the cockpit, preparing for take off. Echo was in there with him. Hunter couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, not with the slight buzzing in his ears. Wrecker had moved further back into the ship. Hopefully making sure the newly acquired AZI droid was somewhere secure. Omega followed after Wrecker, no doubt already wanting to get it charged and back online. Hunter sat in the first open seat he came upon taking his head in his hands. His skin felt like it was crawling. The buzzing getting louder. All he wanted was to lay down, sleep and forget. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. Now as the adrenaline was wearing off, the aches from the last few days started to make themselves known. His body feeling like one giant bruise. He tried to get his chaotic thoughts under control. He needed to check on Omega, make sure she was ok, he needed to figure out their next move, was Ord Mantell where they should go or should they wait somewhere else before returning, Crosshair was going back to the Empire again, did the Empire think them dead, if so did that mean they had some breathing room, were the bounty hunters going to be called off, he was losing Crosshair. He gripped his hair, trying to stop the faint tremors in his hands, trying to quiet his mind.
Another deep breath in, out. In, out. In, out. The tremors continued, worsened. His grip tightened, bordering on painful, then too painful all at once. Maybe the pain would take over, drive out the tightness in his chest, loosen the vice on his lungs. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. “Hunter?” Echo was looking at him. Concern clear in his eyes, a frown pulled at his face. In, out. Echo kept his hand still. The weight solid, grounding. Hunter let his hands fall to his lap. “We’ll head back to Ord Mantell for now. Why don’t you rest?” Hunter pushed his thoughts down, to be dealt with later. Right now, his squad needed him focused. He stood, scrubbing a hand down his face. He started to make his way to the cockpit, almost tripping over something. Hunter didn’t remember taking off the pack. It sat silently, accusingly.
“Is that Crosshair’s?” A small voice asked. “Should we…give it back to him?” Omega looked up at him. He hesitated. Echo’s frown deepened.
“The Empire will send scouts soon,” Hunter answered.
Echo faced him, shoulders squared, a decision seemingly made. “The Empire fired down on Kamino, knowing Crosshair was still there. Who knows what they’ll do when they find him, or even if they’re coming back. We just let him stay here? Stranded?”
“We need to get far away from here. They could return at any moment.”
“That is still to be foreseen. The chances the Empire will take Crosshair’s return favorably is low,” Tech added, turning his chair around. “Any account of his survival will likely sound suspicious. Given how Kamino was destroyed and the seemingly rapid replacement of clones in their army, I do not doubt they would rid of him quickly. Furthermore, if they found he survived, they will likely suspect we did as well.”
Hunter sighed. “He made a choice.” The tightness in his chest increased.
“Did he though? Is he truly making a choice?” Echo questioned, unaware of Hunter’s inner turmoil. Or maybe uncaring. Echo had an increasing habit of forcing an issue when he felt the need arise, even when Hunter would rather him not. “Do we trust the Empire actually took the chip out? Crosshair was never this loyal to the Republic.”
“I know, but what else is there left to say? What haven’t we said? He’s not going to be convinced,” Hunter countered, frustrated. Didn’t they just spend most of time while they were fighting to escape arguing with Crosshair. Arguing against the Empire. He offered Crosshair the chance to leave with them. “He’s too stubborn for his own good,” he muttered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. A headache building.
“The chip isn’t going to allow him to be convinced, Hunter. Words didn’t stop Wrecker,” Echo continued to challenge.
“Then we knock some convincing into him or somethin’.” Wrecker walked up, arms crossed. “He can’t fight all of us at the same time.” The look in his larger brother’s eyes was a stark contrast from the normally easy going disposition.
“I agree.” Tech stood. “It would be unwise for the Empire to actually remove the inhibitor chips from any clone, enhanced or not. Especially when they guarantee complete loyalty and obedience.” He adjusted his goggles. “Looking back now, when we returned for Omega, Crosshair appeared to be exhibiting at least a partial activation of the chip. His behavior was not within his usual parameters. Then they isolated him and the next time we see him, he was willing to shoot us. During that separation, his chip could have been tampered with in some way. Of course, this is only a theory and I cannot be certain without Crosshair to examine.”
“We have Tech’s chip scanner still, right? Couldn’t we use that to make sure it’s out?” Omega asked, looking around at her brothers.
“Yes, but I doubt Crosshair would be willing to allow anyone near him to check,” Hunter answered.
“Then we go with Wrecker’s idea,” Echo said plainly.
Hunter stood there, eyes closed, arms crossed. What was the right call? Was there a right call? Do they force him onboard? What would keep his squad, his family, safe? Was Crosshair’s inhibitor chip truly out? He felt the weight of everyone’s gaze on him, waiting for his orders. The buzzing in his ears was louder. The tightness in his chest steadily becoming harder to ignore, to push away.
“Hunter, we cannot leave him here,” Echo stated, ordered more accurately. Hunter locked eyes with the older clone. Echo stared back, no give to his gaze.
“I’m not disagreeing.” Echo leveled Hunter an unimpressed look. “I’m not. But—“
Echo cut him off. “He wasn’t completely wrong about us leaving him. But this time, he would be absolutely right. If we have to drag him on the ship kicking and screaming, then we will.” Hunter didn’t move at first. Echo’s words repeated in his mind. And wasn’t that the truth; the messy, awful truth - Crosshair wasn’t completely wrong. Guilt, maybe it was guilt that twisted in his chest again. His own decision made.
-**-
Crosshair stood stiff, hands curled around his arms. Fingers digging into his biceps. He focused his gaze on the smoking remains of Tipoca City. It never faltered from the horizon as he heard the Marauder’s engines start. He listened, waiting for the ship to take off. He refused to watch; refused to watch them leave. Again, a bitter voice said.
His eyes squinted against the sun. Ironic the sun chose today of all days to shine. Still, his eyes remained forward. He had his own doubts about the Empire actually returning. Doubts he would never make real by speaking aloud. He wouldn’t allow his brothers, traitors his mind whispered, be right. Ever since Bracca, he felt unbalanced. A near constant ache throbbed at his temple. He vaguely mentioned it once during a check up, but a slight reaction from a Kaminoan and a trip to the surgical suite made sure he never did again. He spent too long in their labs before to go back again. His thoughts at times were intruding and sudden, always ready reminding him of their betrayal, reminding him of his anger. He rubbed his right temple.
He heard the ramp as it hissed opened. He frowned, confused. Crosshair readied himself for another confrontation. He was not prepared for what he saw when twisted around. Marching his way was a pissed off looking ARC trooper, kamas swaying in time with his steps. Crosshair couldn’t think of a time when Echo held such fire in his expression. The cyborg was poised for a fight, and Crosshair wondered briefly if he could win if it came to that. Echo was every bit the ARC he trained to be in that moment. Wrecker was following closely behind.
Hunter trailed after Echo and Wrecker, Omega staying close to him. Tech pulling up beside Hunter, and in a rare occurrence his datapad not in his hand. Crosshair hadn’t moved from his spot on the platform. When he turned, for the briefest moment, Hunter saw his eyes widen. Then his usual scowl returned, eyes narrowed. “I said this changes nothing,” he hissed, venom in his voice.
“Cut the banthashit,” Echo snapped. “Everything’s changed now, and you know it. When was your chip removed?”
“It doesn’t matter when.” Crosshair squared his shoulders.
“Like hell it doesn’t, Cross, so answer the damn question.” Echo pressed. Crosshair glared. “I don’t think they did.”
“And what makes you think your opinion matters?” The two continued their staring contest before Crosshair answered. “After Bracca, when I was being treated for burns. Care to guess what gave me these burns?” They all gave pause after that question. Hunter saw Tech clench his hands.
Echo was still undeterred. “And you trust them when they told you? Why would they do that?”
“Because I proved my worth, my loyalty.”
“They just tried to kill you along with us. Your loyalty means kriff all the Empire.”
Crosshair growled. “Loyalty means ‘kriff all’ to more than just the Empire in my experience.”
The jab directed at Hunter, hitting its mark. He drew in a sharp breath. Crosshair never misses. Except…Hunter remembered all the shots that didn’t hit them, didn’t hit their mark. The hits that were too close for comfort, that were almost. Crosshair was too good for just close, for almost. The air left his lungs. Hunter watched his two brothers argue, trying to follow. His mind focused on that one thought: Crosshair never misses. “Get in the ship, Crosshair. Tech can make sure it’s out,” Hunter spoke, voice low. “If it’s not, we can remove it.” He tried to keep his breathing even, controlled. The buzzing was almost deafening now, his lungs were burning. Crosshair turned to him, eyes ablaze. Hunter could sense his anger, feel as it rolled off him in waves.
Something broke loose in Crosshair at Hunter’s words. It brought an irrational sense of rage. “Fuck you!” he snarled. How dare Hunter give him an order. Crosshair was seething. He felt a pulse of pain in his temple. Anger contorting his face, his arms shaking with it. “You made a choice, Hunter. And chose to come back for a child you didn’t know over me. Over. Me!” Omega shrunk down, hiding herself behind Hunter. Hunter reached back, placing a hand on her shoulder. He watched as Crosshair closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. His right temple. Echo caught his eye, obviously thinking the seeing thing.
“Hurts, don’t it?” Wrecker’s tone gentle, his expression serious. “They said it was out, but the pain is still there, the headaches haven’t stopped. The more you fight it, more it hurts.” Crosshair stopped, eyes wide. His words were said by someone who understood. Wrecker shifted closer. Crosshair remained frozen. For a brief moment, he felt a clarity fall over him. He didn’t want to go back to the Empire. It wasn’t safe; he was constantly watching his back. The sneering, snide comments from the natborn soldiers. He couldn’t trust even his new squad. He wanted to leave with his brothers. As quickly as he thought how he missed them, his mind reminded him, he had been abandoned. Forgotten. Left alone.
Echo reached out, hand latching onto his arm. His grip was like durasteel. “We’re leaving together this time. And we’ll make sure that kriffing chip is out.” Wrecker had moved to his other side. He was cornered. The pain in his head impossible to ignore. And he was tired, so tired; had been for months. Suddenly, Crosshair deflated. The fight gone out of him.
Echo marched up the ramp with Crosshair firmly in tow. “Tech, get us out of here. Somewhere safe that’s not Cid’s,” he ordered. “Wrecker, make sure that droid charging. Omega, go with him.” The determination burning in his eyes stayed any words from Hunter, and the others followed him to the ship without complaint. Something eased slightly in Hunter’s chest. They were getting off this planet, all of them this time.
-**-
‘Cause we’re bound for warmer weather