He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
He watches the smoke float across the surface of the water, the black clouds hiding what remains of Tipoca City. The flames are beginning to die down, but he knows the singed pieces will remain on top of the surface for the next few days. The waves of the never-ending ocean lap against the beams holding the platform in place, the splashing a constant beat with a few interjections from stray pieces of the city he was created in.
Yet Crosshair can't help but feel like this moment means more than just the end of the Republic.
The end of an era with his brothers.
He knows they offered him a chance to join them again, but still, he feels like they didn't want him.
And why would they?
Even he can't think of a reason.
After all, he was vile the entire time they were trying to escape. He complained about every call made, poisoning everyone's attitude as if he were an actual snake. He had been the one to lure them all into coming to Kamino. He coiled around them until he finally got his opportunity to strike them with his tormented bite, chiding them for how they treated him.
So yes, Wrecker was right. It was his fault for getting them into that situation. He's the one who was endangering Omega just as he accused Hunter of doing.
And though Tech claimed he wasn't defending him in that underwater tunnel, it still felt good to have someone speak up for him.
Because even after Hunter said they were never enemies, it still feels like it's one against five. No matter what he said, none of them seemed to agree with him. Hell, they had their weapons trained on him every time he moved towards his rifle. He couldn't adjust it without getting a cautious glare from Echo.
They even placed him in a tube with Hunter so they could keep an eye on him.
They didn't say it was for that reason out loud, but it was obvious.
And when he saved their little sidekick, all he saw were the ends of their guns aimed at him. Seeing Wrecker so defensive and ready to shoot actually hurt. He always stood up for him, but clearly, those days are gone.
He didn't hear a single thanks either, not even muttered under their breath like they used to.
They still don't trust him.
Not that he really blames them.
Omega was the only one to give him the benefit of the doubt, and he somehow turned her against him too. Was it what he said to her in the lab? He wasn't trying to be mean, he was just trying to warn her not to get her hopes up.
Because he's a clone too, their defective batch brother, yet he doesn't think he was ever one of them.
At least not in the way the rest of them are brothers.
Hunter promised they would never leave their own behind. He proved it time and time again. When they went back for Wrecker after he took a hard blow on Kashyyk. Or when they worked to save Tech from those odd creatures on Geonosis.
And just like he predicted, they came back for Hunter without a second thought. There was no moment of hesitation for them. He laid a trap that should have been obvious had they opened their eyes and placed themselves into his shoes.
Crosshair sighs, staring at the armor that he had taken off. He forces himself to look at the reflective black plates, his slightly warped face glaring back at him. He hates to admit it, but seeing his brothers in their old armor made him miss his.
He closes his eyes, thinking of how many hoops they jumped through to make sure their newest member had a matching set. They had to let him know that they truly accepted him as one of them.
Is he really the only one who had a change of heart after they saved Echo on Anaxes?
Before that mission, Crosshair probably wouldn't have gone back for any of his brothers. He would have been heartbroken to know of their death, obviously, but it would've been for the best. They wouldn't have to live with the injuries or nightmares. He would rather they be dead than suffer in horrible conditions.
But after rescuing Echo and seeing how grateful he was for their sacrifice and determination, Crosshair saw it differently. Rex and Echo were actual brothers. Their evident loyalty to each other made the war seem somewhat endurable for a moment. It felt good to be reminded that the ones you're fighting beside actually care about what happens to you, especially when it seems like the rest of the galaxy only thinks of you like walking bacteria grown in a tube.
So why did his brothers leave him behind?
Why didn't they ever try to come back for him?
Crosshair knows that he's irritable.
And snarky.
And a real pain in the ass.
Did they even notice he was gone?
Crosshair shakes his head. Of course, they did. They didn't have the dark shadow lurking behind them anymore. The drag of the group was finally gone. They didn't have to listen to him groan and complain.
It's no wonder they didn't want him back.
Wrecker offered words of comfort in the underwater tunnel, but it didn't hit the way the gentle giant wanted it to. Crosshair already knew he could have left the Empire to join them. But he isn't one to beg. He wasn't going to chase them around the galaxy then plead for them to take him back.
He wanted to know that they missed him. That they actually thought about him.
A pain stabs the side of his head, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. Crosshair hisses, pressing his hand against his temple.
One of Rampart's doctors told him that the headache was a side effect of getting his chip removed. She claimed that it would go away after a few weeks, but it only seems to be growing stronger, especially when it comes to Clone Force 99.
He feels a lump grow in his throat.
He just wanted them to be together again. He vouched for his brothers to everyone who asked, even after they clearly left him behind. He laid out a plan to get them to join him so they could be safe under the Empire. They would have had a purpose, missions that the Empire would have only given to the best squad the Republic ever had.
It would have been just like old times.
And they threw it away.
They didn't even think about it.
Did all those missions together mean nothing to them? All the secrets spilled and inside jokes made, how could they have forgotten about them so easily?
Crosshair quickly wipes under his eyes, too filled with pride to let himself shed a tear.
He always thought he was the cold-hearted one of the group.
Seems pretty cold-hearted to him to abandon someone you claim to care about.
Breaking his thoughts, one lone ship breaks through the atmosphere. He rises from the ground, his limbs screaming as they wake back up. He looks out at the burning city one last time, but he finds that he isn't saddened in the least by its destruction.
Omega was right. He has always hated Kamino.
The testing. The treatments. The remarks made by regs to him and his brothers.
All it's ever been to him was a place for him and his brothers to rest their heads.
Well, that's not entirely true.
He does feel bad about losing their barracks, but he has been mourning its destruction since his elite squad moved in. He came back one night to find his targets peeled off the walls and Wrecker's droid parts tossed out with the trash. Echo's makeshift bed was crumpled in the hallway beside the damaged box stashed with Tech's random trinkets.
The worst was finding one of Hunter's bandanas tucked deep inside his pillowcase.
Crosshair forgot that he stole it before the mission on Kaller. He was going to prank Hunter with it when they returned, but he can't remember what the joke was anymore.
"Commander, are you alright?"
Crosshair turns. "I'm fine. Contact Rampart." He growls, picking up his armor off of the ground. He marches towards the shuttle, his head held high. He isn't going to let this trooper see that he is hurting.
xxx
It's a long, silent ride back. Usually, Crosshair doesn't mind the quiet, but even this is strange to him. Troopers talk low under their breath. Their hands are glued to their blasters. They try to avoid the sniper as much as possible, leaving him alone in the back of the shuttle.
Something is going on.
Crosshair suddenly becomes aware of every move they make. He knew he wouldn't be receiving a warm welcome back. All after, if his brothers didn't rejoice to see him again, why would the Empire?
But everyone is on edge. So he will be too.
Eventually, they meet up with a destroyer. Immediately upon landing, he is escorted to the command center. The troopers move in sync, two in front of him and two behind. Oddly, this doesn't feel so much as them respecting his command.
It's more like they're transporting a prisoner.
"You've survived," Rampart says, his hologram humming to life.
Crosshair doesn't reply, straightening his back. He's not going to comment on something obvious. He instead remains neutral, refusing to show any emotion.
"I don't believe that you escaped alone." Rampart continues, his eyebrows furrowing. "Where did Clone Force 99 flee off to?"
"They're dead." Crosshair instantly replies, his voice hard. He reaches for a toothpick but stops himself. "I offered them a chance to join, they refused. We all know what happens to traitors of the Empire."
A smile creeps its way onto the admiral's face. "Yet you came back."
This almost makes Crosshair break his straight face. What is he talking about? He isn't a traitor. He stood up for the Empire every single chance he's been given. He's remained loyal to the Empire.
"Take him to the brig," Rampart says with a wave, no longer interested in the conversation. "Send one of the interrogator droids in. I want to know where those clones ran off too."
"What?" Crosshair asks. Hands grab his arms and he forces his feet into the ground. "I'm telling the truth. They're dead, I killed them myself." He huffs, narrowing his eyes.
All he gets in reply is Rampart's hologram flickering off.
Not wanting to put up a fight this early into his unlawful imprisonment, Crosshair lets them take him to the brig. They toss him into a cell without much care, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.
What a joke.
He patiently waits, psyching himself up for the droid.
He's been poked and prodded at before.
This shouldn't be much different.
After what seems like hours, he hears shuffling outside his cell. It must be troopers changing shifts. He perks up, listening for anything that might be confidential information. Any information is better than none at all.
"Rampart doesn't want the droid anymore, take it back."
"We were told the clone is to be interrogated for information."
"Not anymore. They're sending doctors down to check on his chip."
Chip? Rampart told him that his chip was removed after Bracca. After the confrontation on the artillery deck, he insisted that they remove the chip from his head. He was assured by doctors, Kaminoans, and other officers that it was gone.
They gave him the blasted chip for proof!
The door to his cell opens and Crosshair jumps to his feet. His heart rate is rising, both out of anger and, unfortunately, fear. "I don't have a chip." He declares. His voice slightly cracks, making him internally cringe. "I'm not being controlled like the regs."
The silent exchange between the two troopers answers his unasked question.
He finds himself trying to catch his breath. How could they lie to him? All this time, he truly believed that he's been doing this of his own free will. Has he been programmed to think that too?
Normally, he doesn't put up a fight. He sees it as pointless when he can be easily outnumbered, but he's had enough. He won't go back to that stupid operating room. He grounds his feet into the floor, refusing to leave the brig as the troopers attempt to pull him out.
He'd rather be killed here and now than be forced to undergo yet another surgery.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get a choice.
Another trooper, who overhears the commotion, stuns him before he can even get another word in.