The Judicator is based off the Dark Angel ship from the mobile game Galaxy of Fire 2.
Star Wars © Lucasfilm
Sharp white edges, armor as dead as the being wearing it, moved in the trees, unaware of the scope trained on its armored form. The white armor stopped, head turning as it barked commands to its followers.
Three more Imperials came into the scope's range, their armored shoulders stiff as they barked at each other with voices that carried through the canopies. The commander rubbed at the bridge of his helmet, as one of the armored figures threw their hands in the air and stomped their left foot.
The shouts were becoming louder, almost deafening as the four Imperials screamed at each other.
Perfect.
The scope turned to the commander's helmet, targeting reticule stopping on the part of the visor that covered the Imperial's left eye. He adjusted the rifle slightly, his belly scrapping the granite he'd laid out on, then thumbed the trigger.
The Firepuncher's shot punched through the armor's visor, splattering gore outwards from the exit wound as he leveled his rifle on the next armored head. All three were jerking around, heads searching the trees for the shot that had downed their commander, stilling only just long enough for the next shot.
The second one was thrown to the ground from the impact of the Firepuncher's bolt, its armor lifeless and unmoving as its companions stared at their downed companions. One turned on its heel, body bracing to run, though the armor got no further than a step before it slammed to the ground lifelessly.
That only left the very last one and, as a cruel sneer carved across his face, the Firepuncher chased the fleeing armor. The aiming reticule hovered over the target's spine and waited, toying with his prey as he heard a distant voice call out familiar coordinates to him.
"97, mark 132!"
His index finger pressed down on the Firepuncher's trigger as the white armor flashed through trees and-
Snow crunched under his knees as he stared down at his brother, the weak rise and fall of his chest significant amongst the horror building within him. His gaze could not tear away from the charred hole in his brother's white cuirass, gaping open just above his heart-
"No!"
Crosshair jerked his head out of the most unwanted of memories, his finger slipping on his rifle's trigger, releasing the blaster bolt towards the target he no longer could see. A wailing scream tore through the trees as Crosshair's bolt struck true, though he did not notice it as his mind raced with images of his deceased brother, pounding away at his skull.
Crosshair stumbled to his feet, the grip on his Firepuncher wavering as he staggered into a tree to his left and took in deep, shuddering breaths. The nightmares of killing Tech had plagued Crosshair every night since he'd gunned down his little brother and, only recently, had started to chase him in his every waking moment also.
There was nothing he could do to stop the nightmares - to stop the scorching self-loathing and hatred that burned through Crosshair's veins daily - nothing he could do to rest.
You don't deserve the chance to forget! Crosshair snarled to himself as he regained his composure, though he was still clinging to his Firepuncher with a death grip. Crosshair sucked in a deep breath, fighting his memories off as he tried to focus on anything but his brother, though he felt no more relaxed as his lungs filled with air.
Crosshair never spared a glance to the four Imperials he killed - they were nothing more than faceless enemies and outlets for his self-loathing to him - as he hurried back to his ship, the Judicator. He'd had the gunship prototype for years, ever since he'd left his brothers and the Havoc Marauder behind and journeyed beyond Wild Space.
It was a solid ship for what he needed it to be: fast and agile enough to escape undetected from the Empire, heavily armored and armed to defend himself, and it wasn't inhabited by his brothers. Crosshair was completely alone on the Judicator, with only his thoughts to occupy himself, but it was worth it, if it meant he could not hurt anymore of his brothers.
Hunter and Wrecker were safer from Crosshair if he flew as far from them as the Judicator could take him. At least, that was what Crosshair told himself constantly.
He'd seen the hurt in Hunter's eyes when Crosshair had left the Havoc Marauder five months ago. Had seen Wrecker's hesitant smile twist and curl into a frown that had made Crosshair's heart constrict with guilt. They were always desperate for Crosshair to stay with them, but he always turned his back on his brothers.
In the very core of his being, Crosshair knew that his brothers missed him, but it changed nothing. His self-loathing and guilt overwhelmed the mere idea that Crosshair could return to his brothers, and return to a life where he could be loved by his family. Crosshair didn't deserve that life, not after everything he'd done.
The Judicator's lean fuselage and half-crescent wings appeared over the rise, its black and gray paint scheme blending into the deep shadows of the forest he'd landed in. Öetrago's rainforest had hidden Crosshair's ship well from the Imperial patrols that swept the planet quarterly, though it had been a hassle to fly the ship through the heavy canopy of trees.
Crosshair had never had extensive training for piloting starships beyond the rudimentary classes the Kaminoans had all commando clones pass through. That had always been Tech's speciality, and he'd been one hell of a pilot. A smile tugged at Crosshair's mouth weakly as he thought of the many times Tech's piloting skills had saved them during the Clone Wars, but his smile did not last as Crosshair let out a low sigh.
Crosshair dug his fingers into palm as his left hand shook and his throat constricted. He missed Tech in a way that even Crosshair couldn't fully comprehend, and he hated it. Hated how much the pull of his rifle's trigger had changed him - had broken him, and turned Crosshair into a monster he couldn't see any humanity left in.
He'd thrown away the mirror in the Judicator's fresher when he'd see the broken distance that had dulled his eyes and torn out his soul. Crosshair didn't need the visual reminders to plague him as often and viscerally as his thoughts did, and he had grown to hate seeing himself over the years. He could not reason out why his brothers could stand looking him in the eye when he did visit the Havoc Marauder, for they should see the same monster he did.
At least, Crosshair wished they did.
If his brothers hated him and showed it, then he'd know that running away from his family was the right choice. That executing Imperials was the solution to his self-hatred and for his mistake - for the one being in all of the galaxy who wore white armor that Crosshair loved, and that he'd murdered. Why Hunter, Wrecker and Echo refused to hate Crosshair confused him, left him with too many questions and overwhelming emotions that held him captive for every second that he spent with his family.
Sometimes he was genuinely angry at his brothers for accepting him back into their family the same day he'd murdered their baby brother. Everything would be easier if Hunter had left Crosshair on Mon Torri, but he hadn't. Crosshair had tried to argue with himself that Hunter's sentimentality had been what had made his sergeant bring him onboard the Havoc Marauder that day, but he knew that wasn't the reason.
Crosshair's brothers loved him, even after everything he had done.
Wrecker still hugged him whenever he visited his brothers, the first of his brothers to always touch Crosshair and accept him back to the Havoc Marauder. Echo stayed up late to keep Crosshair company after all of the others had fallen asleep, the former ARC trooper never the one to pry or bother Crosshair for his thoughts or feelings. Hunter pestered him with comms, always checking in on Crosshair as if he was worried he would never hear from his brother again.
"We want you with us, Crosshair, we need you with us."
Hunter's voice echoed in Crosshair's head as he piloted the Judicator away from Öetrago, jumping to hyperspace in atmosphere, though he wanted to ignore the hurt he'd heard in Hunter's voice that day. His older brother didn't nag Crosshair, per se, but Hunter always seemed to make an effort to remind Crosshair that his brothers wanted him.
Which they shouldn't. They had to hate him-
Crosshair dug his fingers into his scalp, tearing at his hair as his thoughts warred with him.
He wanted his brothers to forgive him, but Crosshair didn't believe he deserved forgiveness. He had never forgiven himself for murdering Tech, so how could he expect the same from his brothers? How could he want their forgiveness?
He'd taken their baby brother from them and yet Hunter, Wrecker and Echo still wanted Crosshair around?
They were fools. They were.
They had to be fools to love Crosshair still, to see him as one of their own still.
Tech wouldn't have-
Crosshair jerked away from the pilot's chair as tears burned down his cheeks, an upsurge of self-loathing choking the very air from his lungs that he had been desperately trying to inhale. Turmoil stormed through Crosshair as he slumped his back against the back of his chair and slid down to the durasteel floor of the Judicator, the shake of his shoulders obvious as quiet sobs echoed through the cockpit of his ship.
He didn't notice how much time had passed as he sat on the floor, heart broken with years of regret that would not give Crosshair a moment of respite. He chased his brothers' affection and concern away from himself because he knew he didn't deserve them anymore. Crosshair wanted to be able to accept his brothers' love, but he couldn't stomach facing what that would entail.
If his brothers truly loved Crosshair after what he'd done to Tech - after he had murdered his little brother in the name of the very Empire he spent every waking minute of his life hunting - then that meant that they could forgive him for what he'd done. Which was ridiculous.
Why would Hunter forgive him? How could Wrecker, who loved all of his brothers with an intensity Crosshair had once found childish, forgive Crosshair for destroying their family?
How could his brothers forgive him when Crosshair couldn't forgive himself?
Because they aren't Tech.
Defeat hissed from Crosshair's lungs, poisoning the air that circulated through the Judicator with the fog of hatred that had overtaken every part of Crosshair. Wrecker and Hunter could forgive him some day, but all Crosshair wanted was to apologize to Tech. To gauge what Tech really thought of him, to see the anger and betrayal and rage he knew he deserved to see in his brother's golden eyes.
But his brother was dead. Buried and long decomposed in the soil of Ruvu, a fragment of memory and sorrow that Crosshair had to live with each day.
Gone were the days where Tech would ramble off on a tangent that made no sense to anyone without Tech's brilliant mind. Crosshair could never again see the way Tech's eyes lit up whenever he saw something he'd only read about, or how distracted he could get when he'd try to interest his brothers in random fauna or flora on the many planets they visited during the Clone Wars.
Crosshair was the only one of his brothers who actively listened to Tech's rambles, though he'd never cared one way or another about Tech's random topics. His little brother was erratic in his topics, switching between Twi'lek culture, the medicinal properties of a specific flower on Ska Gora, or theories on space and time continuum as if he thought the rest of his brothers could keep track of what Tech was talking about.
It had been annoying to have Tech suddenly ramble off on the comms in the middle of a mission but Crosshair would do anything to hear his brother's obnoxious rambling again. He'd even take Tech's worrying habit of fiddling with his datapad or scanner in the middle of a fight - Wrecker had to use himself as a shield once when Tech had gotten too distracted by something on his scanner - over not having his little brother around.
"Cross? Brother? Are you there?"
The activation of his ship's comms system, scratched by distance and the Judicator's holoreciever, snapped Crosshair into a wary battle stance until he recognized the husky growl of Hunter. He straightened, though he was still extremely tense, and turned to the holoreciever, where Hunter was watching him with a worried expression that could be read even for the distance between Crosshair and his brother.
Crosshair released a sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at Hunter's hologram, a quirk of a smile faking its way across his lips. "I am still here, somehow. What is wrong, Hunter?"
Hurt flashed through Hunter's eyes at Crosshair's snide comment and the pang of guilt that stabbed Crosshair's heart almost made him apologize to his older brother. But then Hunter shook his head and sighed a world weary breath of air.
"I needed to see how you were doing, Cross," Hunter rumbled softly, "you haven't contacted us in five months. We have been monitoring Imperials communications to see where you might have struck next, and I-"
Hunter stopped mid sentence, his eyes shifting to something beyond the range of the Havoc Marauder's holoreceiever, then Crosshair watched as his sergeant slumped in defeat. Crosshair stiffened as Hunter swallowed notably, the evasiveness of his brother's gaze making the sniper ever more aware of the odd way Hunter was acting.
"Hunter? Sergeant? What are you not telling me?" Crosshair growled as he bent down and glared into the holoreciever form of his older brother, the anger in his tone only there to hide the fear that was coursing through his frame.
Did the Imperials catch Wrecker? Is Echo okay? Is-
"Wrecker's… not doing well," Hunter finally admitted and Crosshair could hear a waver in his brother's voice that was uniquely dead, "he has been acting off ever since…"
Crosshair scowled, knowing exactly where Hunter was going and opened his mouth to retort when Hunter collapsed onto the pilot's chair and buried his head into his hands. Hunter's shoulders were shaking and there was the unmistakable sound of Crosshair's brother crying that made him freeze completely.
"Hunter?"
Hunter stilled at Crosshair's whisper, his head drawing up from his hands slowly, and the sheer agony in his brother's face made Crosshair reel backwards. Hunter choked back a sob - holy kriff Hunter was sobbing?! - and let out a shuddering breath.
"Wrecker's giving up. I know he's been hiding something from me that has been plaguing him for years, but he refuses to tell me what is wrong. I-" Hunter looked away from Crosshair, his hands clenched into fists as his voice rumbled worriedly, "I cannot lose two more of my brothers, Cross. We need you back with us, please? For Wrecker?"
The pleading tone in Hunter's broken voice crawled through Crosshair's conscious, eating away at what little bit of composure and strength he had left. The quiet voice of sensibility and wanting that haunted Crosshair's actions urged him to agree, to jump to his brothers' position, but he couldn't.
How could he go home to the Havoc Marauder when all he had left on that ship was memories and his brothers' stifling sorrow?
"I can't, Hunter," Crosshair tried to put steel into his voice as he spoke, though the way Hunter jerked at his refusal made him swallow and jerk his head away from the holoreceiver.
"You are the only one Wrecker will respond to, Crosshair," Hunter's use of Crosshair's full name made him freeze, as Hunter's tone grew sharp and edged with irritated fire, "he needs you more than I understand. I can't lose him too…"
Guilt and fear and self-doubt surged through Crosshair like a tidal wave on Kamino, the weight of all of his emotions almost causing him to stumble backwards. He was afraid of facing Hunter, but also deeply afraid of losing any of his brothers when he could do something to help. But Crosshair's fear had ruled his decisions and heart for eight years and it held a strong grip upon him still.
"I- I'm sorry," Crosshair finally cracked out, though the apology sounded as meaningless and ruthless as the fear curdling inside his chest. Hunter's expression became pained, his brow knitting as his eyes darkened with sorrow, then he looked away and exhaled.
"I understand, Cross. I'm sorry too. I… I forgive you, you know? It wasn't your choice," Hunter sounded so diplomatic - so un-Hunter-ish - as he slowly gathered himself to his feet and reached for the Havoc Marauder's holoreceiver controls. Crosshair watched with a growing feeling of sickening disgust towards himself as Hunter tried to give him an understanding smile then, without saying his usual "see you soon, brother", shut off the holoreceiver.
Crosshair stared at the spot on the Judicator's front panel where Hunter's holoimage had once been, then slammed his fist into the panel. He heard something break on the ship's panel, but he ignored it as Crosshair flopped down onto the pilot's chair and angrily clenched his fists.
He was a coward.
A kriffed up coward.
Regret raged through Crosshair as he reached for the Judicator's hyperspace control, hand hovering over the control as he thought of what Hunter hadn't said. He knew that Hunter had been changed drastically by Tech's death, and that he had become almost too overprotective of the family he still had left, and it was clear that Wrecker was breaking what little bit of strength Hunter had left.
Crosshair knew that Wrecker was suffering from the guilt of having kept Tech's datapad and recorder, and having to watch Tech's death from their brother's point of view. He also knew that Wrecker cared about Hunter, Echo and Omega too much to ever tell them what he'd done - and what he had seen, and what remained hidden away in the Havoc Marauder. Wrecker had only ever felt comfortable showing Crosshair, and it was obvious now that Wrecker's guilt and sorrow had been eating away at him quicker than even he could realize.
So why was Crosshair so afraid of helping his brothers?
Because you think that they will reject you.
Crosshair stiffened at the voice that intruded into his thoughts - at the familiarity of the voice.
He shot a look around the Judicator's cockpit, eyes narrowed as he looked for the source of the voice, but there was nothing around. But he'd clearly heard Tech's somber monotone snap a response to his inner chiding. Which made absolutely no sense.
His brother was dead. Crosshair had killed him. He couldn't be hearing his brother, could he?
No answer came but for the cold sound of the Judicator recycling the air within the starship, and Crosshair's stiff breathing. He let out a sigh and shook his head before he turned back to the Judicator's hyperspace control and pulled the ship out of hyperspace.
As Crosshair maneuvered the Judicator towards a small refueling port, a strange feeling of anger clawed at the sniper. He was running away from his fears still, and running even when his brother needed him-
A sigh echoed hollowly through the Judicator, snapping Crosshair out of his thoughts as he sent a glare around the ship. Either his mind was playing tricks on him and he was going insane, or he had actually heard someone sigh on his ship.
"Go away," he snarled out as he landed at the refueling station and stormed out of the ship.
When he returned to his fully fueled ship, Crosshair checked every corner of his ship carefully before he took off, ensuring that no stray had wandered onto the Judicator. As he jumped back into hyperspace, all he heard once again was the ship's air circulating and his own breathing.
And the selfish beating of his heart.
Crosshair hated crowded market streets.
There was too much color, too many people, too much noise and too many dangers. He stalked past people, glaring at them through the visor of his armor, and snarling at the ones that came too close for comfort to him. All he wanted was the few supplies he needed to sustain himself - using the credits he took from the Imperials he killed - and to leave as quickly as he could.
Finally, he found the stall he was looking for and approached it with a scowl that was thankfully hidden by his armor. The merchant, a female Twi'lek he knew only as Merta, smiled at his approach, her expression soft and strangely happy at his approach.
"If it isn't my favorite customer," Merta chuckled as she pulled out a list and gave him a knowing smile, "the usual today, or something else?"
"The usual," Crosshair snapped, the edge to his words making Merta startle slightly as she took a hesitant step backwards and nodded.
"It will be at least twenty minutes, as always, friend," Merta said before she disappeared into the back of her stall, quiet murmurs drowned by the loud bustle of the market.
She knew that Crosshair didn't want to talk, but he usually was slightly more polite in acquiring his supplies from the helpful Twi'lek. But Crosshair was in a foul mood today, and had been for the four weeks since he had last heard from Hunter.
Something had been nagging at his soul besides his usual self-loathing, and he constantly felt like he was being watched, even when he was alone inside the Judicator. It was driving him mad, and he was utterly sick of it all. He assumed that it was some Force forsaken joke the universe had inflicted upon him to further drive home all the mistakes he had made, but damn him if Crosshair wasn't tired of all of it.
He lived with enough reminders of his mistakes, he didn't need some kriffed up cosmic being following him around and nagging him too-
Crosshair stiffened suddenly, his head turning slowly to his left, where an electric blue and vibrant yellow Nautolan was watching him. Crosshair shot the Nautolan a glare then turned away with a roll of his eyes. He always received odd looks whenever he traveled to populated areas due to his armor, and Crosshair had long grown used to it - though he still hated when people gawked at him for too long.
He didn't stare at them, so why should-
"You have been to Mon Torri, haven't you?"
Crosshair startled at the melodic sounding voice that breathed next to his shoulder, then turned to face whoever had spoken to him slowly. Standing directly behind him was the Nautolan from moments before, her expression devoid of emotion as she tilted her head curiously and looked over Crosshair's armor.
Suspicion raced through Crosshair's lanky frame as he reached for his hip holster, and the blaster it held, and hovered his hand over the blaster. The Nautolan blinked slowly at Crosshair's movement, her black eyes unreadable as she let out an airy sigh.
"Why do you visit Mon Torri so often?"
Crosshair blinked and took a step back, a snarl escaping from his mouth as he glared into the Nautolan's expressionless eyes. How in the galaxy did she know about Mon Torri? About the hours and days he spent pacing around that glacial, snow ridden planet looking for anything to ease some of the pain that burrowed deep within his heart.
"Who are you?" He snapped tersely. Crosshair was ready to shoot the Nautolan, though he did not want to draw any more attention to himself than his armor already did. This small spaceport market on Subterrel was as far off the Imperial radar as one could get, but Crosshair could never be too careful.
The Nautolan blinked before she shook her head and then gestured to the left pauldron of Crosshair's armor - where the physical reminder of his shame was painted on in stark, contrasting white to the rest of his armor. "The presence of Mon Torri's Force remains on your armor. It lingers on you and inside you. Mon Torri is unsettled. Angry. Bitter. Hurt. Much like you are, Crosshair."
Fear lanced through Crosshair's body as the Nautolan hissed his name, her voice strange in its echoing quality and hollow ring. No one on Subterrel knew who he was - no one but his brothers knew that he was Crosshair underneath the black Katarn-class armor - but this Nautolan knew him by name? And she'd mentioned the Force… which Jedi could sense.
He was even more suspicious than earlier, but Crosshair kept his back straight as he crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at the Nautolan. "Are you a Jedi?"
"No," the Nautolan replied, "though I can sense the presence of the Force, I cannot wield it in the traditional ways of the Jedi. The storm of turmoil that resides within your heart drew me to you, for I could feel it as if I was the storm myself, and I have only ever felt a Force signature like yours once before."
Crosshair stared at the Nautolan, positive she was crazy, but something told him that she wasn't lying. He didn't understand Force-sensitives or Jedi - frankly, he hated Jedi for willingly using clones as slaves during the Clone Wars - and he figured she could be manipulating his feelings with the Force, but she didn't sound like she was lying. And she knew his name, as much as that distrubed him, and it seemed far too odd for anyone of Subterrel to know who he was.
He didn't want to trust her, but he could entertain her - at least until Merta retrieved all of his supplies. So, with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Crosshair allowed himself to listen to the Nautolan.
She raised an eyebrow curiously as Crosshair loosened his arms to his hips, then she smiled. "You catch on very quickly, don't you? You see many things, though you are blind to what is most important to you. Your path is self-destructive… Are your actions an attempt to join your brother in the Force?"
"No!" Crosshair snapped immediately, defensively.
He hated it when Hunter would lecture him on the Havoc Marauder about Crosshair's apparent death wish, his insatiable desire to find peace in death - both in the killing of the Imperials, and the fact that Crosshair cared so little about himself -, and he hated it even more that this Nautolan had read him so easily.
"So what if I die, Hunter? At least then I can tell him I'm sorry," he'd snapped at Hunter two years ago when his brother had begged him to stop being "so needlessly reckless" with his life.
Hunter had tried to argue with Crosshair, suggesting that Hunter and his brothers would be devastated by Crosshair's death, but Crosshair highly doubted that. There was no rational reasoning behind his brothers ever missing the man who'd murdered-
A hand on his shoulder snapped Crosshair out of his thoughts, and he would have reached for his blaster had he not felt the Nautolan steady his right arm. Crosshair stared at the Nautolan's hand on his arm, then jerked away from her touch with a snarl.
"Don't touch me."
"I apologize," the Nautolan whispered, her tone hurt, as she shook her head and drew away from Crosshair. "I only wanted to help. Even though I have attempted to put up guards between us, I can still feel your overwhelming presence in the Force. I cannot help but be witness to your every emotion and thought-"
"Then why don't you just leave?" Crosshair snapped rudely. He hoped that maybe he could chase off this Nautolan and she'd leave him alone, but she seemed unfazed by his angry snap.
Instead, the Nautolan rubbed at her chin for a moment then nodded slowly. "Your love for your brothers is as powerful as your self-loathing, Crosshair. Why, then, do you push them away and run from them? They need you, just as much as you need them…"
Crosshair didn't want to answer the Nautolan, to dignify what she said with a response, but something inside him yearned to speak. He never could tell his brothers what he was feeling, for he already knew how Hunter and Wrecker would react and he didn't want them to worry more than each already did. This Nautolan was a stranger to Crosshair, someone he'd never seen before and whose name he still did not know, but maybe that was what he'd needed?
He couldn't care less if she judged him for the emotions that had driven him to leave his brothers, for he really didn't care about her. The only people who mattered to Crosshair were his brothers - not that he'd shown them that in years -, and their opinions were the only ones that could hurt Crosshair. And there was a strange feeling of contentment that was warming his heart at the thought of someone listening to him.
Heh, maybe I'm more like Tech than I thought.
A faint smile cracked across Crosshair's lips as he thought of his little brother, who he knew would have been pestering him for ages to get Crosshair to open up about his feelings until Crosshair finally snapped and told his chatty brother, effectively shutting up Tech. But then the smile faded as Crosshair's thoughts returned to that day on Mon Torri and, without Crosshair realizing, he told the Nautolan everything.
She listened attentively, never once interrupting or even making a sound of acknowledgement until Crosshair's anger had deflated and all he felt was empty. Empty of his self-loathing, sorrow, rage and the lingering and ever present hatred that seemed to have pushed him through the last eight years. It was weird to feel nothing, though he knew it would not last.
The Nautolan reached for his right hand slowly and squeezed it before she gave him a slow, gentle smile that seemed oddly reminiscent of Hunter's own. "Mon Torri has been in upheaval for years, just as you and your brothers have been. What you seek can be found on Mon Torri, though not until you are complete. You must accept your family into your heart once again, to allow them to see what you have told me today, before you can ever find what you have sought for eight years.
"Find your family, travel to Mon Torri and the Force may surprise you, young friend. Good luck."
With that final assurance, the Nautolan turned and left, never once looking back towards Crosshair before she vanished into the throngs of market-goes. Crosshair shook himself, noticed the bag of supplies he'd ordered from Merta and took in a deep breath.
What I seek? She can't mean- No, not possible. The Force can't bring back my brother. That is impossible-
But what is the harm in it? A two day flight in hyperspace? And being near your brothers for a day? They don't hate me, do they?
Crosshair debated with himself the whole way back to the Judicator, and continued debating with himself until he'd taken off and was seconds from punching in a set of coordinates. His fingers hesitated over the controls as he thought of actually seeing Wrecker and Hunter again, of the hug he knew Wrecker would engulf his lanky frame into, and of the pride and relief that would bring back some of Hunter's old fire.
Maybe he could entertain the strange Nautolan once, and never again after. Mon Torri had felt odd when he'd traveled there six weeks ago, as the air had felt abnormal in pressure and his eyes could almost see the upheaval in the air and magnetic currents that stormed off the mountains. Jedi and Force-sensitives were odd, strange beings, but Crosshair was burning out.
He needed a reprieve before he turned his rifle on himself and did as Hunter feared, breaking the family one last time. Crosshair just needed to face his fears, and face the possible rejection he'd been so afraid of ever since he'd killed Tech.
Crosshair swallowed as he reached out to his holoreciever, hesitated for a second, then pressed the Havoc Marauder's unique comm signature.
The response was immediate though, judging from the edge of anger in the answering voice, Crosshair had caught Echo on comm duty and not Hunter. But he knew Hunter well enough, and knew that he would wake at the sound of Crosshair's cold voice.
"Bring the Havoc Marauder to Phedoris. We need to talk."
Echo didn't respond for a moment then, with a hiss of static, his sigh came through the holoreceiver. "I will relay the information to Hunter."
"Thank you," Crosshair replied before he shut off the holoreciever and punched in the coordinates to the planet, Phedoris.
The Havoc Marauder was late.
Crosshair paced past the Judicator impatiently, eyes scanning the horizon constantly for his brothers' Omicron-class attack shuttle. They should have been here by now, since his holoreceiver had recorded their coordinates after his conversation with Echo, and they were not even a day's hyperspace flight from the Wild Space planet.
So where were they?
Had Hunter decided to forgo Crosshair's request and finally given up on him after Crosshair had refused to return to his family when Hunter had asked four weeks ago? Had something happened with Wrecker that had delayed his brothers?
Worry stabbed knives through Crosshair as he paced, back and forth, in front of his starship. He would deserve his brothers' rejection at this point, for he had rejected them for years when they had sought him out. It would only be what he deserved-
The hiss of the Havoc Marauder's engines thundered through the floating mountains, moments before the attack shuttle shot around one mountain and dove towards his position. Crosshair watched as the shuttle landed in front of the Judicator, the ramp opening to reveal a mass of armor and a loud shout of his name.
Before Crosshair could dive out of Wrecker's way, his brother slammed into him and hoisted him into the air, a booming laugh echoing through the mountains as Wrecker gently lowered Crosshair to the ground. Crosshair brushed at his armor then shot Wrecker a smirk before he, for the first time in years, playfully jabbed Wrecker in the side with his elbow.
Wrecker stared down at Crosshair, his expression shifting from shock to hurt that seemed to have become permanent on Wrecker's once joyful face. Crosshair stiffened, then backed away from Wrecker slowly.
"It's good to see you again, Cross," Wrecker sighed, the corners of his mouth trying and failing to raise a smile.
Crosshair fidgeted unhappily at the miserable dullness flattening Wrecker's words, and the guilt that crashed against him came in tenfold. He had known how hurt Wrecker was from accidentally seeing the recording of Tech's death, and he'd ignored Hunter's request to stay on the Havoc Marauder for Wrecker's sake. He should have faced his worries of rejection, and his inability to believe that he deserved forgiveness, and come to support his oldest brother.
He'd chosen to execute more Imperials, instead of supporting his brother when Wrecker was so clearly struggling. Crosshair ground his teeth together angrily as he chided himself internally. He'd made mistakes and run from his brothers for eight years, and for what?
"And it is good to see you, Wrecker," Crosshair sighed tiredly.
Wrecker looked down at Crosshair, his expression weary, before he rolled his shoulders in a failed attempt at an easy shrug. "You don't have to lie for my sake, Cross. I know you don't want to be here."
Crosshair flinched, hurt by the stinging anger in Wrecker's voice, but he did not argue Wrecker's point. Wrecker would have normally been correct in his estimation of Crosshair, but the yearning for his brothers' companionship was chasing away all of Crosshair's usual reluctance to be near his brothers. Whatever that Force-sensitive Nautolan had done to him had made Crosshair's self-loathing simmer inside his chest, walled off by the sudden need to be with his brothers.
They may not forgive him, but Crosshair needed his brothers more than he'd ever allowed himself to realize before. He'd spent so long running from the thought that they could love him after he'd killed Tech, that Crosshair had never allowed himself to think about how much he wanted his brothers. How much he needed his brothers' support to make it through every day. How much he looked forward to the weeks he'd spend on the Havoc Marauder, even as his nightmares tore at his mind.
"I have never lied, Wrecker," Crosshair growled without malice.
Wrecker rolled his eyes in disbelief - which Crosshair deserved -, then stiffened as Hunter, Echo and Omega approached them. Echo nodded to Crosshair politely but he did not say anything to Crosshair as Hunter sidled past his brothers and stopped in front of Crosshair.
"What's going on, Cross? Why did you call us back here?" Hunter sounded worried, his overprotective nature one of the few parts of Hunter that had survived Tech's death.
Crosshair tried to smile at the way Hunter was looking over his armored frame, as if searching for injuries, but his lips twisted into a frown as he spotted Omega watching him. Crosshair had argued with her after she'd acted too much like Tech, working late to repair parts of the Havoc Marauder, and Crosshair had never been sure how to talk to the young girl after.
She liked him and made an effort to follow him around and ask Crosshair for sharpshooting lessons, but Crosshair struggled to reconcile his thoughts around her. He'd never cared for children and, though Omega did not bother him or talk to much, he couldn't help but feel angry that she had taken over most of the tasks Tech used to do.
She and Echo were the Havoc Marauder's mechanics, and Omega had studied Tech's lengthy details on planets, cultures and languages and had taught herself to speak a number of the galaxy's languages. Crosshair knew that it was rude and childish to be mad at her for following in Tech's footsteps, but he couldn't help it.
Tech was supposed to be the mechanic, the one who would always complain about never having enough time to properly fix the Marauder. His little brother had been their medic during the war, and a stern and no-nonsense one at that. Wrecker had been yelled at more times than Crosshair could remember for trying to run off after Tech had just patched him up.
Those were supposed to be Tech's jobs, the skills he'd honed on Kamino and used to try and support his brothers. Tech had always only ever valued himself for what he could do to support his brothers, and now Omega was taking over Tech's former place on the Havoc Marauder and it angered Crosshair more than he cared to admit.
Omega flinched at Crosshair's glare, her cheeks flaming as she ducked her head and scuffed her feet against the rocky ground. She always acted friendly with Crosshair when he decided to meet his brothers, but Crosshair couldn't help but resent the girl.
"Cross?" Hunter's tone came with a warning, sharp as his vibroblades, as he maneuvered himself in front of Omega and met Crosshair's glare. "What do you need?"
Crosshair startled at Hunter's glare and his undercurrent of suspicion, his shoulders jerking in as he took a step back from his older brother. He shook his head and then rubbed at his eyes, hoping to chase off the anger he felt whenever he saw Omega, before he released a sigh and lowered his hand to his side.
"I want to go back to Mon Torri," he finally admitted, "together."
Hunter and Wrecker flinched visibly at the planet's name, their gazes snapping to each other with conflicted expressions, before Hunter stiffened and tilted his head slightly. "Why do you want to go back there, Cross? What can come from that planet but more hurt? There is nothing left for us on that planet."
"Maybe," Crosshair muttered as he looked away from his brothers, "or maybe not. Please, just this once, will you follow me?"
Hunter swallowed, his eyes hard with pain, as he looked towards Wrecker, Echo and then Omega, his brother's gaze lingering over the girl Crosshair knew Hunter considered his daughter. Hunter's mouth twisted with a scowl before he finally turned back to Crosshair and narrowed his eyes fractionally at him.
"What have you discovered on Mon Torri, Crosshair?"
"Nothing. Though I spoke with someone who said that… that I could find what I seek back on that planet," Crosshair sighed quietly. He didn't want to tell his brothers about the strange, Force-sensitive Nautolan yet, not when he assumed they would think him crazy and leave.
She had told him that he would not be able to find what he wanted on Mon Torri if he didn't have his family with him, and Crosshair couldn't stomach chasing his brothers off with tales of a strange Nautolan. They would have to trust him for once and listen to him.
Wrecker shifted in the corner of Crosshair's vision, his eyebrows narrowing as he took a small step closer to Crosshair. "What do you mean by 'what you seek'? What can a planet offer us?"
Crosshair pointedly ignored Wrecker's first question, deciding instead to only address his second question. He was still afraid of admitting to his brothers that he didn't believe them when they said they forgave him, for he knew the hurt he would see in each of their eyes.
The Bad Batch didn't lie to each other. But, now, every day of Crosshair's life was a lie, and the truth was far scarier than the lies he told his brothers constantly.
"I do not know," Crosshair shrugged, "but I ask you to trust me on this one thing, and this only. Please?"
"Crosshair…" Echo began but Hunter silenced his protest with a shake of his head and a jerk of his hand.
Hunter gave Crosshair a look filled with suffering and sorrow before he finally relented with a nod. "Lead the way, Cross."
Crosshair looked between each of his brothers, searching their expressions for any hint of their feelings, then turned his back on his brothers and headed to the Judicator. Hunter and his brothers headed back to the Havoc Marauder and, as Crosshair lifted off from the floating mountain, he hoped that the Nautolan had not been lying.
Snow crunched under Crosshair's boots noisily as he descended from the Judicator's ramp, the sharp frost in the air stinging through his armor and his blacks. A shudder tore through his body as the Havoc Marauder descended to the clearing, wings folding up as the ship's landing gear pushed the snow out from underneath its weight.
Hunter had become a much more careful pilot since the Clone Wars it seemed.
Another blast of frigid air slammed into Crosshair, almost making him stumble forward as Wrecker, Hunter, Echo then Omega stepped down the Havoc Marauder's ramp. Wrecker looked around the frozen pines as he walked towards Crosshair, his oldest brother's worry clear in how he hunched his shoulders close to his body.
Echo shivered notably as he followed Wrecker, Omega following close behind Echo as she carefully watched Echo's prosthetics. Hunter, who had paused at the end of his ship's ramp was staring past the trees, his expression distant and unreadable.
"Something is… different," Hunter noted as he shot a glance towards Crosshair, eyes narrowed studiously, "the air is… stronger. I can hear the plates moving underneath us, and I can hear the mountains' magnetism. It wasn't like this before that I recall."
"It wasn't," Crosshair answered as he turned to face his brothers and sighed. He knew that he had to finally tell them the truth of his feelings, and why he'd brought them back to a planet his family avoided purposefully.
Wrecker stared at him quizzically as Echo and Omega shot each other worried glances, though Hunter only raised an eyebrow as he finally stepped down from the Havoc Marauder's ramp. Hunter stopped in front of Crosshair, his arms crossed over his chest, and jerked his head around the trees.
"You can see it, can't you?"
"Yes," Crosshair growled with a nod as he shifted his weight on his feet subconsciously, "and that is why I brought all of you here. I met a Force-sensitive on Subterrel who told me about the change in Mon Torri's Force presence, as she described it, and she claimed that I shared the same Force presence as this planet."
Echo raised an eyebrow at Crosshair's statement but he did not seem as surprised as Wrecker or Omega, who were both staring wide-eyed at him. Hunter, though, had a strange look on his face as he stared at Crosshair - no, through him.
"Hunter?" Crosshair took a slow step towards his sergeant, worry clawing at his insides as Hunter's gaze turned more and more distant and unfocused.
Then, suddenly, Hunter shook himself and jerked backwards slightly, his eyes clearing as he focused on Crosshair and curled his lips in a tired smile. "I see what she meant. I can't sense the Force but I can feel it nonetheless, and it is far more powerful around you than the rest of us."
Crosshair nodded slowly at Hunter's observation and sighed, "the Force-sensitive claimed that my armor carried Mon Torri's Force presence, and that is what drew her to me. She knew my name and about my brothers, and she told me that I have to accept all of you back into my heart before I could find what I was looking for here."
Crosshair's guilt and sorrow twisted in his chest, stealing his breath as he looked away from his brothers and finally relented to his years of fear. "I ran away from all of you because I was afraid. I can't forgive myself for what I did to Tech, and I can't face the idea of any of you forgiving me. I don't want any of your forgiveness because I don't deserve it.
"The only person who I want forgiveness from is Tech, but he's gone. I can't accept the fact that any of you can ever love me again, not after what I did to Tech. All of you deserve so much better than I can ever give you, and I'm sorry."
Crosshair expected Hunter to say something, or Echo to make a snarky comment at his fears - at how ridiculous it was for him to fear his brothers' opinion of himself - but none of his brothers said a word. He couldn't chance to look up-
Warm arms wrapped around his body, pulling Crosshair into a hug before he felt Hunter bury his face against his shoulder. Hunter's grip was strong, as unrelenting as he was protective, and Hunter did not let go of Crosshair for some time.
Then, with a gentleness that was distinctly foriegn to the Hunter Crosshair had known during the Clone Wars, he felt his brother push away from him. There was a softness in Hunter's eyes that Crosshair didn't deserve as his older brother placed his right hand on Crosshair's left shoulder - always the left shoulder pauldron - and smiled.
"You are our brother, Crosshair, of course we love you. That is what family is for, isn't it? To support each other even through the hardest of times?" Hunter whispered, his voice thick with emotion as Crosshair noticed his brother's eyes glisten with tears. "All I ever wanted was to have you back with us, Cross. Our family may never be whole again, but we need you more than I think you are willing to understand.
"I'm sorry that I pushed you away," Hunter was almost crying now, and that scared Crosshair more than he ever imagined it could, "and I will support you no matter what. Just… please come back to us, and stop seeking your own death…"
"I'm not-" Crosshair paused as he instinctively tried to defend himself, then exhaled. He knew that Hunter was right, and he could no longer deny it. "I thought that was all I had left. I don't deserve this family, not with what I have done to break it apart, and it was the only way I thought I could apologize to him."
None of his brothers spoke up for a moment, the sheer silence driving its anger through Crosshair's chest and tearing him open, as exposed and open a wound as he had always been since he'd clung to his dying brother's body. All Crosshair ever wanted was to apologize to Tech because that was all he thought he could do. He'd convinced himself that his brothers were better off without him, and that his nightmares would lessen away from his old home in the Havoc Marauder and the memories that came with his brothers' voices.
Had Crosshair been wrong this whole time?
Did he deserve his brothers' forgiveness?
No.
Not theirs, not theirs yet. I need Tech's-
"Tech was never angry with you, Cross," Wrecker's low rumble drew Crosshair from his thoughts, snapping his head up from where he'd been staring mindlessly into the snow and to where his oldest brother was looking down at him with hurt clear in his eyes. "You know he didn't blame you, and I know he didn't. He knew it wasn't your choice. We know that you would never have hurt us in your right mind. We are brothers, always, no matter what? Remember?"
"No matter what happens," Crosshair snapped as he shot a glare between his brothers, all three of whom were watching him intently, "we stick together. The Kaminoans don't care about us, the Jedi don't and the Republic definitely doesn't give a kriff about us. It's just us brothers, right?"
"Always," Hunter rumbled, his fists clenched at his sides as he looked into Crosshair's eyes, an unspoken promise blazing within them.
Wrecker laughed as he punched Crosshair in the shoulder then, with a sudden seriousness that Crosshair had long known existed in his oldest brother, he too nodded. "I will die for this family, Cross. We are brothers to the very end, I promise."
Then Tech, who was always the quietest about his feelings for the group, adjusted his goggles and nodded. He looked between his brothers for a long minute, expression unreadable, before Tech quietly said, "I am only fighting for my brothers, and that will remain true no matter what happens."
The old memory, only weeks before the official start of the Clone Wars, made a smile ghost across his lips before he shook his head. Wrecker was correct about Tech - his brother had assured him that it wasn't Crosshair's choice to ruthlessly gun his brother down - but how could Crosshair believe it?
Tech couldn't forgive or excuse Crosshair for murdering him - he wouldn't. He'd been delirious and dying… Tech could never have meant what he'd said to Crosshair. Never.
"Cross?" Wrecker's voice echoed distantly in Crosshair's head as he backed away from his brothers suddenly, his stomach queasy and sticken with panicked fear.
It wasn't possible.
He didn't deserve any of his brothers. None of them.
"I'm sorry!" Crosshair barely heard himself gasp out before he hurried away from his brothers, unable to face the idea of them watching him as he broke down.
He had held himself together through the years with his hatred for the Empire, and nothing else. Crosshair had spurned away his brothers for fear of what their love for him would do, what accepting their concern would mean.
Hunter, Wrecker and Echo all deserved someone else other than Crosshair. Someone who had not murdered their youngest brother, someone who was smart and skilled and loyal. Crosshair wasn't any of that - he wasn't Tech, wasn't the brother his family needed-
"Hello, Crosshair."
Crosshair froze as a high, monotone voice broke through the frosty air above his head, its familiarity heart-breaking as he jerked out of his thoughts with a startled cry. Crosshair whirled around on the balls of his feet, heart practically slamming against his ribs, and stopped.
Looking down at him from a small boulder was Tech.
It was the same white armor, and his goggles, and his curious, inquisitive eyes.
It was his brother.
His brother!
"Tech?!"
This wasn't possible. Tech had died. Crosshair's brothers had buried Tech on Ruvu - Crosshair had felt Tech's final breaths rattle from his damaged lungs. He was dead-
"You are not incorrect in your assessment of my condition," Tech interrupted Crosshair's thoughts as he leapt down from the boulder. Immediately, Crosshair noted the lack of depression in the snow as his brother walked towards him and, as Crosshair's eyes snapped to Tech again, he realized that he could almost see through his brother.
Tech wasn't alive. He was here, but not here at the same time. What tiny shred of hope had suddenly woken inside his chest at the sight of Tech vanished, gone as swiftly as a puff of smoke from his rifle. Tech was dead and nothing could change that.
Crosshair deflated, his shoulders sagging as Tech stopped in front of him, and let out a weak sigh. "I'm so sorry, Tech. I couldn't stop myself, and I have never stopped hating myself for what I have done to you. I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry for something you could not control?" Tech asked, his voice quizzical in its levelness as Crosshair turned away from his brother's sharp gaze.
How can I not be sorry? Crosshair's demon screamed, clawing at his throat as he struggled to form words. I killed you, Tech! I am sorry! I can't be anything but sorry! Why can't you understand?!
"I do understand that your choices were influenced by the inhibitor chip, and that I know with conviction that Crosshair would never kill one of his brothers."
Crosshair felt something warm and yet not there brush his cheek, shifting his face so that he was staring into Tech's gold eyes. He'd never realized how much of Tech's heart and soul resided in his eyes before but, as he looked down into his brother's eyes, Crosshair saw everything.
He saw pain and sorrow and regret in the darkest part of Tech's eyes, and yet the love and affection in Tech's eyes burned with a fierce fire that overpowered anything else. But that couldn't be possible. Tech couldn't love Crosshair after what he'd done - he couldn't.
Then, before Crosshair could pull away from his brother's faintly shimmering form, Tech wrapped his arms around Crosshair and buried his head against his chest. Crosshair stiffened at Tech's hug, shock and joy warring inside his heart as he stared down at his brother. Tech never initiated physical contact with his brothers, kriff he didn't even like being touched by his brothers, but Crosshair had never been happier to have Tech act so unlike himself.
Instinct made Crosshair reach out to hug Tech and, to his surprise, he actually felt his arms snake around his brother's small frame. Crosshair didn't understand it and was almost too afraid to ask, but his curiosity - and desire to hear his brother's voice - gave Crosshair the courage to question his brother on how he'd come back and, as he leaned into Tech, he whispered his question to Tech.
Tech didn't respond at first, though Crosshair could tell that his little brother was thinking by the way his head tilted to the left slightly and his eyes narrowed. Then Tech let out a quiet hmm, and nodded.
"The balance of Mon Torri's Force had long been unstable and, when I died, I became part of this planet's Force presence. I never believed much in the Force prior, but I have learned much in my time in the presence. I did not understand why I did not pass to the afterlife after I died, or why I was stuck here on Mon Torri, but I believe I understand now…"
Tech's voice trailed off as he spoke and Crosshair thought he felt his brother's fingers dig into the back of his armor before what Tech had left unsaid hit Crosshair. His brother had been stuck on Mon Torri because of Crosshair, because of the guilt and self-loathing he'd lived with for eight years. It was his fault.
Crosshair pulled away from Tech, shoving at his brother's chest as he jerked away from Tech. "I'm sor-"
"No," Tech actually growled, "I was not stuck here because of you, Crosshair. The Force, from what I have observed, watches over everything and everyone. It saw your turmoil and self-loathing, and saw how you pushed our brothers away. The Force kept me on Mon Torri because this was the only place it could help you.
"Every time you visited Mon Torri, the Force grew more unstable and the planet has been in geological upheaval of a scale never before seen because of the Force's instability. Mon Torri's unstable Force presence fed off your self-loathing, and the Force needed you to return to Mon Torri with our brothers and a forgiving heart to stabilize this planet.
"I believe," Tech rubbed at his chin, eyes distant as he spoke, "that the Force saw that you were unwilling to forgive yourself, and kept me around for the day you would finally come back with our brothers. The Force knew that there could not be stability until you forgave yourself, and it seems you are unwilling to forgive yourself without talking to me."
Tech inclined his head as he stared at Crosshair, his expression sharp and yet oddly not Tech. He seemed much more distant and emotionless than the Tech who had been alive, who had always been the most hard-working of his brothers, and the realization broke Crosshair.
His brother really, truly was gone. He was only standing before Crosshair now because the Force willed it for the planet's sake - not because Crosshair needed to see Tech. Not because Crosshair couldn't live with himself without apologizing to his little brother. No… the Force cared only for the planet, and not the family that had been torn apart on this planet.
Crosshair let out a weak, derisive snort, then glared past Tech - who flinched and backed away from Crosshair with an expression of anxious worry. Crosshair looked away from Tech as his old, burning rage awakened inside his chest.
"I wish you'd hate me, Tech, it would make everything so much easier!" Crosshair snarled at his brother, suddenly angry that he was here and yet not here - how dare the Force play with him like this, using Crosshair and Tech to fix its precious little planet - and he was unable to stop the venom that spilled from his mouth.
"You knew that I was there when I shot you, Tech," Crosshair hissed as he stormed up to his brother, who had retreated backwards and was shaking, "you tried to talk me down before I shot you. I listened to you and responded to you - I was the one who shot you! Yet you blame my inhibitor chip? How can you be so blind!? I killed you, not the chip. I did!"
Crosshair had stormed so close to Tech that his brother was pressed against the boulder, eyes wide with fear as they snapped about nervously, avoiding looking at Crosshair as Tech continued to shiver under Crosshair's intensity. Tech quailed under Crosshair's glare and, when Crosshair jerked his arm angrily, he saw Tech flinch inwardly and curl into himself.
"S-sorry," Tech stammered, his voice strained as he avoided Crosshair's gaze, "I-I didn't- I don't b-blame you-"
Tech cut himself off as he pulled further away from Crosshair-
Horror slammed into Crosshair, throwing him backwards as he realized what he was doing. Tech had always been afraid of confrontations, always the one who curled into himself and allowed the regs to beat up on him because he did not see any reason to antagonize his bullies further by fighting back. Crosshair had seen Tech flinch whenever Hunter, Wrecker or Crosshair himself would raise their voices and snap at him, and Crosshair was scaring his brother.
Crosshair's aggression vanished as he watched his little brother continue to shiver under his gaze, replaced by a worry and protectiveness he had not felt since the Clone Wars. Slowly, Crosshair reached out towards Tech's shoulder and, with the gentlest brush of his fingers, tapped his brother.
Tech froze at his touch, his eyes shifting towards Crosshair nervously, his posture stiff as he wrung his hands together. Crosshair knew that this version of his brother had been manifested by the Force but, as he watched his brother's mannerisms and fears, that did not matter anymore to him. This was Tech, even if he wasn't alive, and he was still Crosshair's little brother.
Crosshair pulled Tech into a hug, clutching onto his brother's small frame with a vice-like grip, then buried his head against Tech's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tech. I am so sorry… I'm not angry at you, I never could be. I've hated myself for so many years because of what I did to you, I didn't mean to yell at you…"
Tech didn't say anything, though he did nuzzle into Crosshair's hug and, as Crosshair clung to his brother, he thought he felt tears slip down his brother's cheeks. Crosshair stiffened slightly, a surge of protectiveness swallowing all of his self-loathing as he clung to his brother.
"I was never mad at you," Tech suddenly whispered, almost too quietly for Crosshair to hear, "and I could never blame you. Your actions were not your own, Crosshair, and I wish you would not blame yourself for what happened."
Crosshair looked away from Tech, though he did not let go of his brother - he was afraid that the Force would take his brother away from him forever if he did let go of Tech - as he let Tech's words sink into his heart. Tech never blamed his brothers for anything, but the quietness of Tech's tone stuck in Crosshair's head.
He was used to Tech quickly diving into a situation and taking the blame for a problem, a smile faking its way across his face as he would duck his head and scuff his boots into the ground. Always watching his brothers and waiting for the moment to jump in and stop an argument before it escalated into a fight.
Tech would never have blamed Crosshair for killing him, and thus could not forgive Crosshair. For years, Crosshair had sought something he knew he'd never get, because his brother never blamed him.
Wrecker had been right about Tech, that night on the Havoc Marauder when Crosshair had found him watching Tech's recordings, stating that Tech had never blamed him for what happened. And Wrecker was right today. Tech had never blamed him that day Crosshair had watched him die, had never said anything more than that Crosshair's actions had not been his own, and had even smiled when Crosshair had fought through the inhibitor chip's control.
Now he understood that it wasn't so much Tech being able to forgive Crosshair that he'd been looking for, but Crosshair being able to accept that he had never been fully at fault for killing his brother. Accepting that it wasn't Crosshair who had killed Tech, but CT-9904 and the inhibitor chip. Crosshair loved his brothers too fiercely to ever harm any of them, not of his own free will at least.
The pressure in Crosshair's chest, made of his self-loathing and guilt, released in a shaky exhale as Crosshair slowly let go of Tech, and stepped back from his brother. Tech looked up at Crosshair curiously, his eyes wide and keenly observant as a smile slowly tugged at his lips.
"Will you promise to protect the others for me, Cross?" Tech asked, his voice wavering as hurt flashed through his golden eyes, his smile faltering as Tech spoke. "They love you and need you with them. Wrecker needs you and so does Hunter. Please, do not abandon them any longer, for they need you more than you can understand."
Crosshair lowered his head and worried at his jaw, eight years of worry and fear over his brothers' opinion of him warring with his desire to protect them as he had not been able to with Tech. His family needed him, and Crosshair needed them. But they-
"They forgave you long ago, Cross. You are the only one who wasn't able to forgive himself," Tech whispered as his hand brushed across Crosshair's left arm, pausing only when Tech noticed the insignia on Crosshair's pauldron.
Tech shifted closer to Crosshair, eyes narrowed on the digital skull he'd painted onto his pauldron years ago and the Aurebesh words spelling out Crosshair's worst sin. He heard Tech sigh and watched as his brother shook his head slowly, disappointment clear in his slumped shoulders.
"You did not kill me, Crosshair," Tech said as he gestured to the "brother killer" insignia and shot Crosshair a frustrated glare, "CT-9904 did. But you can make up for the sin you believe you committed by protecting Hunter, Wrecker, Echo and Omega. Are you willing to do that?"
Crosshair instincts told him to deny Tech, to tell him that no, he couldn't, because his brothers hated him but Crosshair knew that was no longer true. Hunter and Echo may never have fully forgiven Crosshair, but that did not change whether they loved him or not.
Wrecker had been hurt but he had broken through his distrust of Crosshair to become the only support Crosshair had for months. Wrecker didn't hate Crosshair, and never had. He'd only been broken and afraid of talking to Crosshair, until the night he'd found him watching Tech's recordings.
And Omega, who Crosshair wanted to hate but knew he shouldn't, didn't ever intend on replacing Tech, because no one could. Tech had been Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker's youngest brother, and the glue that had kept them together even in the worst days of the Clone Wars. Omega had come to love Tech and only sought to honor their fallen brother by working as hard as he had to protect her family.
Hunter was the protector of his family on the Havoc Marauder, but who was there to protect Hunter when he needed it most? That had always been Crosshair's role on Kamino, to hover and make sure that Hunter slept every night, and that had not changed during the Clone Wars. Only the death of Tech had shaken that core understanding between Crosshair and Hunter, and Crosshair hoped he could someday be that same Crosshair for his older brother again.
"CROSSHAIR?!"
Wrecker's shout echoed through the trees, shaking snow from the branches and startling Crosshair from his thoughts. He glanced towards Tech, who was watching him with a mournful relief, then back to the trees where he could just barely see his brothers and Omega rushing through the trees towards him.
He heard Tech sigh and then felt his brother's hand brush his shoulder, though it was brief and achingly lonely, before Tech stepped away from Crosshair and shot him a stern look. "Please protect them, Cross."
"I will," Crosshair replied, because of course he had to, they were his family and he could not lose more of his family but-
Tech smiled half-heartedly then turned his back on Crosshair and trudged towards the trees with his head lowered. Crosshair gawked after Tech as his brother trudged away from him, then charged after Tech, stopping him with a forceful grasp on his left arm.
"Where are you going, Tech? They will want to talk to you-"
"I can't," Tech bit out through clenched teeth before he pulled his arm out of Crosshair's grasp, pulling it as close to his chest as he could. "I am not attuned with the Force or trained to withstand the rigors of maintaining this form. I have… outlasted my use here. I'm sorry, Cross…"
Crosshair lunged for his brother again, but Tech jerked away from him and backed away from Crosshair, his eyes dark with pain as Tech continued to back away from his brother. Tech muttered another apology before he turned away and trudged into the frozen pines, vanishing amongst the snow and frost as Crosshair stared after his brother despondently.
He'd never imagined that he would see Tech again, let alone talk to his brother and hear his calm voice, and it hurt more than Crosshair could explain as Tech left him for the last time. Crosshair released a sigh and turned away from the copse of trees his brother had vanished into, aware of the heaviness that had settled into his chest.
Crosshair had lost his brother a second time, but he knew that he could not waste the rest of his time wallowing in guilt and self-loathing. He had already wasted eight precious years of his life slowly destroying himself when his brothers needed him. Crosshair had made many mistakes in his life but he would not make this mistake again.
He'd promised Tech that he would protect their brothers, and damn him if Crosshair was going to let Tech down a second time. Crosshair would never be able to fully forgive himself for murdering his brother but he understood now that it hadn't been him who had pulled the trigger. It may have been Crosshair in body, but his mind and soul had been chained underneath hatred and rage in the form of a version of himself the Empire had created.
There were years of mistakes he had to repent for, and the only way he could start was by staying with his family. By sticking by their side and protecting them from whatever wanted to hurt his brothers and Omega.
I will protect them to the end, Tech. I promise you.
Faintly, the sound of his brothers reached his ears, drawing him from his thoughts as Wrecker, Hunter and Echo burst from the trees, eyes wide with worry and concern. Hunter had his hand hovering over his vibroblade's sheath as he looked around, a snarl rumbling from his throat before he finally straightened and looked Crosshair over carefully.
"Crosshair?! Are you okay?" Wrecker slammed into him, arms wrapping around his frame in a hug that almost squeezed all of the air out of Crosshair's body.
Crosshair shoved at his brother but gave up with a sigh. "I am alright. Please put me down."
Wrecker blinked then slowly released his hold on Crosshair, an apologetic smile ghosting across his mouth before Wrecker stepped back from Crosshair carefully. Echo kept glancing around with noted suspicion, though he seemed to calm down enough when Crosshair stepped towards his brothers.
Hunter asked him something about the Force, but Crosshair wasn't really paying attention as he cast a final look towards the trees Tech had vanished through. A surge of loneliness clawed into Crosshair's throat as he thought of Tech being completely alone in the afterlife - since he had to agree that such a thing existed now - missing his brothers as he waited for them.
But Crosshair knew that Tech would be even lonelier if anything happened to his brothers, and Crosshair refused to allow that to happen. He had a new responsibility to his brothers, and he would not let any of them down.
"Cross?"
Wrecker poked at Crosshair's shoulder gently, but it was enough to make Crosshair look towards his brothers. Hunter was still watching him with a deeply curious expression, while Echo looked worriedly at Crosshair and Omega fidgeted in place. Crosshair looked - really looked - at his brothers, at his family, and finally allowed himself to open his broken heart to his family.
They loved him even after all he had done, and he finally allowed himself to see that. To see that the brothers who he had run away from years ago loved him and forgave him, and that he was welcome amongst them.
"Let's go home," Crosshair finally said, and the smile he saw on Hunter's face was more than worth it.
Hunter squeezed Crosshair's shoulder as he smiled - all the way to his eyes - and pulled him away from where Tech had left him. Crosshair looked back once, hoping for a moment that he would see his brother, but there was nothing but frost and trees wherever he looked.
Goodbye, Tech, Crosshair whispered to himself, and thank you, brother. I promise I will make it up to you someday.
Tech watched as the Havoc Marauder and Crosshair's ships took off, lifting away from Mon Torri together, and smiled weakly.
His brothers were together again, and he knew that Crosshair would not let any of them out of his sight ever again. But he also could not help but feel lonely, for he knew already that he would never see his brothers again.
He had been dead longer than any of his brothers had ever known him and, though he knew his brothers would never forget him, a strange thread of worry resided inside his heart. He'd lived as a part of the Force for eight years, but he understood little of the Force or the afterlife still - and there was no guarantee that he would actually be worthy of the afterlife.
All he hoped was that his brothers would live long lives and that he would never see them, wherever the Force took him. Tech loved his brothers, but he did not love them enough to selfishly wish for them to join him in the afterlife. He could wait a millenia if need be for his brothers, as there was nothing he valued more than his brothers' safety and well being.
They needed every one of them to make it through the Empire's reign, and they had only just gotten Crosshair back. He could wait. He would wait.
"Good luck, brothers."
His brothers' ships jumped into hyperspace, leaving Tech behind for the final time. A sigh hissed from his lungs as a familiar, hollow tug pulled at his soul. He knew that the Force had gotten what it needed from him, as even he could feel Mon Torri's restlessness fading. The Force had its planet slowly going back to normal, and Crosshair had finally accepted himself.
That his brother could finally begin a path towards forgiving himself was all that mattered to Tech and so it was with a heavy, lonely heart and satisfaction that done one last thing for his brothers, that Tech finally allowed the Force to take him.
He only hoped that the Force would keep its end of the bargain and protect his brothers.