Eternalqueenofthemyscira and I were discussing clones and the uses of their numbers, and. Well. This came up and I could not resist the temptation.

Star Wars © Lucasfilm.

Something was very off about General Krell.

Tech had studied General Pong Krell's past service records when Cody had relayed an emergency request to Tech and his brothers to reroute to Umbara, only for every single report to bring blotted ink and censored lines. Even when Tech had landed the Havoc Marauder on Umbara, on the recently commandeered Umbaran airbase, he had been unable to fully shake the worry that had captured his chest in a vice whenever he tried to understand who General Pong Krell was.

The Jedi Master was a Besalisk whose service record screamed of countless victories - from all across the galaxy and in each consecutive year of the war -, yet Tech had found little through the black tape on how General Krell had reached such an impressive service record. Tech's brothers had aided the efforts against the Umbarans since they had landed, all while Tech had spent every waking minute of his days on Umbara desperate to find out who General Krell was - who the Jedi was underneath his impressive records.

It had been a conversation between two regs Tech had overheard while he worked furiously on deciphering General Krell's service record that truly gave him the first hint. His brethren, weary, battle-worn members of the 501st Legion, had seemed unaware that Tech was sitting inside the Havoc Marauder as they spoke about clone casualties under General Krell. And it had been their lack of awareness that had given Tech the headstart he'd needed.

Now, as Tech hacked into the very depths of the Republic's files on General Krell, he understood the way the Jedi had earned his victories - and Tech had never felt such hatred before.

Every file on Krell's victories carried a casualty list unlike Tech had ever seen in his entire service for the war, an endless list of entire units and legions of clones that had been wiped out all under Krell's orders. Even the 501st Legion was reporting massive casualties under their temporary rule of General Krell, and the campaign on Umbara had not even passed a standard week. The list of casualties went on endlessly, and no one cared.

Not the Republic and least of all the Jedi, who continued to allow General Krell to lead men to their deaths without a single reprimand given towards Krell's method of leadership. Tech had dove into the Jedi Archives to search for any hint of the Jedi caring about Krell's methods, only to have each search come up empty.

Which meant that Crosshair's hatred for the Jedi was founded, for how could the Jedi ignore the blatant murder General Krell was committing? How could the Jedi, who claimed to care about every being that lived in the galaxy, allow a Jedi to hold so much blood upon his hands?

How could the Jedi not care about the clones?

Rage seethed inside Tech with an uncomfortable pressure that made his chest feel as if a beast had clawed him open from the inside out. Tech was a pacifist, for star's sake! He wasn't supposed to feel this much fury, let alone the unquenchable loathing that had kept him awake since the minute they had landed on Umbara.

Tech and his brothers were tools. He had always known their existence to be that of weapons for the Kaminoans and, through the years of the war, had begun to acknowledge how the Republic and Jedi saw his brothers and himself. Crosshair had always sneered whenever Tech had shown interest in the nature of the Jedi's inexplicable Force abilities, the sniper's comments harsh and vicious as he detailed the Jedi's lies. Tech, at first, had argued against Crosshair's points out of a desperate desire for intellectual stimulation during a days long journey through hyperspace with a badly damaged Havoc Marauder - only for every single point Crosshair raised against the Jedi to make complete and logical sense as Tech discovered everything the Jedi Archives had blotted out on General Krell.

Jedi were supposed to love life unconditionally, supposedly rulers of peace, yet the Jedi allowed a Master such as Pong Krell to lead clones to their death? Tech was no fool, not in the matter of strategy and war, and least of all with something as clear as General Krell's ruthless hatred for clones.

The Jedi were either blind or purposefully ignorant to General Krell's methods, and it was that that spurned Tech on as he kept his shuttle tapped into the Umbaran airbase's communications. He had intercepted a message from General Obi-Wan Kenobi that General Krell had responded to, and he had been hard-wired into the air base's communication channel ever since.

And it was this connection to the air base's communications that led Tech to hear a strange message as he continued to hack through the Republic's black marks on General Krell's files. His helmet's inner comms crackled to life, the sharp hiss of static - the first time Tech had heard static from the air base's communication arrays - jerking him away from his datapad and to his armor's comms.

"General, the Umbarans have stepped up their offensive. We are holding them off, but their squadrons have ambushed one of our platoons, seizing weapons and uniforms. We believe they may be launching a massive attack."

Tech stared at his datapad as he listened to the message play out, the message's coordinates odd in all manners of the word. The string of data looped itself over and over on Tech's datapad, each reiteration of the message to the air base only raising Tech's eyebrows further. The coordinates of the communication shared similar data points to General Kenobi's message, yet there were differences that made Tech's skin crawl.

With an urgency that Tech had long become used to over the war years, Tech scrambled to decode the oddities between General Kenobi's message and the one that had just come in from a clone from the 212th - or so the coordinates were trying to claim. The message looked convincing from first glance and with a tactic Tech would not put above desperate forces during the Clone Wars, but the intercepted communication did not sit well with Tech.

A communication from Crosshair, a routine check in the Bad Batch had long been decided upon after Wrecker had nearly died on Mikia, interrupted Tech's hurried decoding of the base's communications. "The 501st appears to be heading out to rout away the remaining Umbaran forces. Hunter's undecided on our next move, though we may have to assist the regs if the Umbarans stole clone armor."

"Understood," Tech replied distantly as he returned to his decoding with a focus that deafened him even to Crosshair.

Every time Tech attempted to understand the originating coordinates for the reg's comm, his datapad continued to insist that the comm itself had come from the captured Umbaran base. Tech tapped at his datapad's outer casing before his eyes snapped to the air base's tower, an idea forming in his swift mind as Tech continued to struggle to understand the odd frequency he'd intercepted.

Umbaran technology was still new to Tech, though he had spent time by himself understanding the air base's inner workings, and he could only decipher the foreign technology to a degree without the use of other, related Umbaran technology. The communications tower had all the technology Tech could need to truly understand the unusual data he was receiving from the prior communication.

Tech stood, stashed his datapad into his left hip pocket, then hurried down the Havoc Marauder's docking ramp. A hiss from his comms announced a curious query from Crosshair, who Tech knew was stationed just inside the perimeter of the base near one of the small hangers the Umbaran starfighters were stored. Tech responded with a quick explanation of the strange communication and his need to investigate inside the tower, only for Crosshair's silence to unnerve Tech even further.

"Be careful, Tech," Crosshair warned under his breath, a sharpness to his words that even the static in their comms could not mask.

Crosshair was worried, as he always was, but it was a worry Tech had never minded. Worrying over Tech was how Crosshair showed his affection for his best friend, and it was that knowledge that kept Tech steady as he stepped into the tower's lower floor. Tech already knew that he would have to access the main terminal from the control center of the tower to decipher the coordinates he had recorded, which meant that he ran the risk of running into direct contact with General Krell himself.

But the risk was worth whatever information Tech could glean and, without hesitating, Tech hurried to the elevator. Tech hacked into the controls of the elevator to assess its last use and occupant, a report that took only a few seconds to finish and respond back to Tech's prompting.

Krell had used the elevator two minutes prior and had not yet returned to the control center. Now was Tech's opportunity.

The elevator carried Tech to the top of the control center slowly, a sluggish movement that set Tech on edge. He paced in circles in the elevator until the elevator's ascent halted and, with a small, musical chime, the doors slid open to reveal the dark, unlit control center. A thorough scan with his thermal reader reveals that Tech is the only living being inside the control center and, while that remained true, Tech knew he had to work - and work as quickly as he could.

Tech hurried to the central computer where all communications were received and relayed, fingers flying over the controls as he hunted for the truth. His datapad, removed from his pocket and laid out carefully beside where he worked, continued to recite the string of coding from the intercepted communication, a string of unanswered questions Tech hurried to understand.

Frustration set into Tech as he dove into the control center's communication units and came up with scrambled and inane strings of messages, the same string of coordinates Tech's datapad continued to recite. Yet, as Tech dove deeper into the communications array, his suspicions continued to rise. Everytime he attempted to find the originator of the prior communication, the terminal replied in a distortion of words and-

Tech's fingers froze over the communicator's terminal as he finally understood why his datapad had struggled with deciphering the coordinates. The entire communication array had been tampered with, a change in the array's main terminals that only allowed the air base to rely out communications and not to receive communications. Which, as Tech looked over his datapad for a brief second, meant that the comms he had intercepted had originated from the air base.

Krell's casualty list flashed through Tech's mind as he scrambled to fix the relay, ever aware of the fact that Krell could return at any time, the blatant murder the Jedi had committed all the motivation Tech could need. When he finally repaired the tampered relays, Tech pulled up the coordinates from the comms and staggered.

The comms had originated from the base and had relayed to the air base itself, yet now Tech could see where the second set of coordinates had been sent, and the truth scared him. The 212th Legion - Cody's legion - had received the same communications as the 501st, the 501st which Crosshair had informed Tech of departing from the air base.

If the 501st believed that their enemy were wearing clone armor, then the 212th would believe the same. The very 212th that Tech and his brothers had worked with since the second year of the war. The legion commanded by Cody, who had put so much effort into protecting Tech and his brothers since they had met, and a man who Tech respected as much as he did his brothers.

Both legions were walking into a trap to kill their own brothers.

A trap Krell had so clearly set.

A ping from the elevator alerted Tech to its descent and, as he accepted what was to come, Tech hurriedly translated the old communications. His fingers flew across the terminal as Tech hacked into Cody's personal comms, as well as the Negotiator's, and sent Cody a message he hoped the Marshal Commander would receive-

"What are you doing here? You are not authorized to be here, CT-33-7641."

Krell's low growl did not scare Tech, not when he received a quiet comms accepted report from Cody, nor did the Jedi's heavy stomps made Tech flinch away from the terminal. Tech turned to face the Besalisk Jedi as Krell stalked up to Tech, the Jedi's eyes snapping to the terminal behind Tech for a brief moment that revealed the Jedi's rage for a second.

"What did you do?"

Tech braced himself against the terminal at Krell's snarl then, as Tech crossed his arms over his chest and activated his comms to relay without interruption to his brothers, smirked. "You are already too late, General."

"Tech?" Crosshair's voice hissed through his helmet, a strained tremor to his brother's voice that made a wistful, apologetic smile ghost across Tech's lips.

Krell roared in Tech's face with a fury that Tech ignored as he heard Crosshair's voice scream through his comms. His brother's shouts masked Krell's rage as the Jedi's two right arms threw Tech across the room, the crack of his spine unmistakable as Tech slammed into the wall, a hiss of pain slipping from his mouth as Tech collapsed to the ground. His vision swam as pins and needles traced up Tech's back, and even the slightest movement of his head hurt.

"Tech, what are you doing? TECH!" Crosshair roared over Tech's comms as Tech watched Krell desperately fiddle with the communication terminal, the Jedi's desperate attempts to fix what Tech had done a sharp difference to Krell's prior calm.

Tech moved his right arm through the pins and needles that followed his every movement, raising the communicator cuff on his right hand close enough that he could raise contact with Crosshair. "Cross," Tech's breath heaved as he spoke, "I- I love you, brother."

"Tech!" Crosshair's voice broke with the sound of unmistakable tears, a sound that made Tech's heart ache.

The rest of Crosshair's words were drowned by the sudden feeling of Krell's hands tightening around Tech's throat, the loss of breath and Tech's inability to move rendering him incapable to fight as Krell lifted Tech off the ground. Rage flared in Krell's eyes as he carried Tech to the terminal and slammed Tech's back against the terminal, the contact shooting fire through Tech's torso dully.

Krell's anger raged above Tech, each word the Jedi said returned with a sassy quip from Tech. Each defiance made Krell's grip tighten on Tech's throat, until he could not speak and could only gasp desperately for air, but this was worth it.

As Tech's consciousness faded, he heard his brothers' voices overlap within his comms, followed by Cody's desperate roar of Tech's name and smiled weakly. Cody was alive. Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker were alright. They would be alright.

His brothers were safe. Cody and his legion were safe, for Cody was yelling at Tech to hold on, just as loudly as Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker were. Tech had known the moment he entered the control tower that he would not return to the Havoc Marauder, and that he would never see his brothers again, but Cody was okay.

His brothers were okay.

Everything would be fine.

Crosshair stumbled across the control center tower's floor, his right hand pressed against his mouth as he approached the broken, twisted body of Tech. The Firepuncher lay discarded already, as forgotten as the Besalisk's unmoving form in the corner of the room, the rifle's use having finally reached its end.

His rifle had not been the one who had failed to save Tech moments before Krell had snapped Tech's neck with his fearsome strength, for that had all been Crosshair. He had never run with such desperate fury as the sniper had when he heard Tech snarling at Krell, yet Crosshair's speed and agility had been for nothing.

When he had charged in through the control center's door, Firepuncher raised and already firing at the Besalisk, all he'd seen through the scope was the Jedi's lightsaber slashing diagonally across Tech's chest. The lightsaber had cleaved through Tech as if he was nothing more than a piece of flimsi, the armor Tech had fiddled with and upgraded for so long useless in protecting his brother.

Not that his armor would have done anything for Tech, for Crosshair knew Tech was dead before he'd even stepped into the control center. He had heard his brother's dying gasp through Tech's comms, had heard the triumphant snarl of the Jedi as Tech's life escaped with the snap of bone, and Crosshair had known.

The sniper had known that he was too late since before Crosshair entered the control center, but his lateness and his failure had turned Crosshair ruthless. Krell had never seen Crosshair's first shot - a slug Crosshair had slammed down the barrel of his rifle as he raced into the center's first floor - before it struck the Besalisk in the stomach, for the Jedi had been far too distracted gloating over Tech's unmoving form.

Even after the slug, the Besalisk had not been able to match Crosshair's fury - not when he had Tech's inventions on his side, and never when Crosshair's heart had already shattered at Tech's dying gasp. Crosshair had, in that moment, nothing to live for but revenge, and the sniper ruthlessly knew no bounds.

The second round Crosshair fired was made of the harshest plants, powders and poisons Tech knew of, and had created with his brilliant mind, to generate a noxious powder that would coat the target's body with spores that burned. But, for a Jedi or anyone with enhanced senses - even Hunter -, the special round was debilitating, and an advantage Crosshair had needed against the Jedi.

After the powder round, Crosshair had swapped between blaster fire and slugs, and even the occasional flash bomb that his upgraded visor was immune to. He had become a dance of fury and rage as Crosshair dodged and weaved around the wounded Besalisk until the Jedi had collapsed from precise fire, though Crosshair had not be satisfied until he had lowered his Firepuncher's barrel to the Jedi's forehead and fired one last slug between the traitor's eyes. Krell had not moved since and, as Crosshair continued to stagger towards where Tech's body lay crumpled and twisted, the rage that had fueled him vanished as suddenly as it had risen.

All that rage became horror as Crosshair stopped beside Tech's body and, his stomach heaving with the rations he had eaten hours earlier, Crosshair finally saw what had happened to his brother. His younger brother's neck was twisted, his eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl - a mask of death that hid the terror Crosshair had heard in Tech's voice over the comms.

Weakly and without heart, Crosshair slumped to his knees beside Tech's broken frame, his hand shifting to brush against Tech's forehead hopelessly. Tech's helmet lay discarded to the side, the visor broken and plastoid shattered from when Krell had ended Tech's life.

"Tech..."

Crosshair heard his voice catch as he breathed his brother's name to the cool air of the control center, a catch of agony that made Crosshair's heart burn as if he'd stepped into a volcano. Tech did not respond or move even when Crosshair continued to stroke his fingers through Tech's sweat-soaked hair, the auburn strands damp and loose in Crosshair's grasp.

"Tech, please," Crosshair sobbed as he stared down at his brother's lifeless, small frame -

No.

Tech could not be dead.

Not Crosshair's sweet, shy little brother.

Not his baby brother who had saved Crosshair from himself. His best friend and closest confidant.

But, as Crosshair moved his right hand down Tech's battered frame, his fingers paused over the deep, smoldering cut of Krell's lightsaber. The cut the Jedi had made after Krell had already broken Tech's neck and stole the technician's life from him without any possibility for Tech to fight back.

The Jedi had insulted Tech in death and Crosshair had been unable to do anything to save him. Tears burned down Crosshair's cheeks as he buried his face against Tech's cheek, inhaling his brother's scent with ragged, desperate gasps of air. But the effort only brought the acrid scent of burnt flesh where Krell's lightsaber had marred Tech's chest into a ribbon of fire that left his little brother almost unrecognizable.

The scent of burnt flesh was too much for Crosshair, who jerked away from Tech and scrambled to the side, where he expelled the contents of his stomach and wiped at his tearing eyes furiously. Crosshair slumped against the small terminal in an attempt to ease his quaking legs and queasy stomach, his left hand pressed firmly against his forehead.

"You are already too late, General," Tech hissed, a triumphant acceptance in every word the technician spoke-

Crosshair stumbled backwards into the wall of the control center, gaze snapping to Tech's eerily still body. Crosshair had left his little brother alone. Had abandoned him for Crosshair's need to settle his stomach, and-

His commlink scratched with Hunter's voice as Crosshair scrambled to Tech's side one again, his legs holding all of Crosshair's weight as he kneeled beside Tech. Crosshair reached for Tech's right hand, intertwining Crosshair's left fingers with Tech's, and hovered over his brother's body. The sniper needed Tech back, needed his brother back.

"Don't leave me, baby brother... please..."

I'm sorry, Crosshair screamed to his brother as Tech remained motionless, his golden brown eyes cold and devoid of the life that had made Tech who he was. Not a sparkle of excitement or curiosity remained in Tech's once warm gaze and, no matter how desperately Crosshair held onto his brother's body, no warmth but Crosshair's own ever enveloped the sniper.

Tears tracked down Crosshair's cheeks as he stretched out his long legs, sat down and, carefully, pulled Tech's limp frame onto his lap. Crosshair hunched over, wrapped his arms around Tech, and cradled his brother as close to his chest as he could.

Even when Hunter and Wrecker burst into the control center, their shouts desperate and broken, Crosshair did not move. He cradled Tech and whispered to his brother, the sniper's free right hand gentle with each stroke through Tech's sweat drenched hair. Tech was gone. Tech was gone.

Crosshair had failed Tech.

This was his fault.

Tech's neck snapping over the comms reverberated in Crosshair's eardrums, an unending song of his regret that persisted in every fiber of Crosshair's being. The sniper remained unaware as Hunter kneeled beside him, the sergeant's hand a ghost over Tech's skin. Wrecker, whose short, horrified gasps did little to combat their new reality, clung to Crosshair as he sat on his right side, Wrecker's large hands rough as they pressed between Crosshair's shoulder blades.

Then the regs storm inside the control tower, expressions twisted and haunted as they become witness to Clone Force 99 breaking apart. Cody appears with a sharp dismissal to the regs staring at Tech's twisted body, the Marshal Commander's voice an echo of Crosshair's own as Cody kneels in front of Crosshair.

The sniper hears the break in Cody's voice as the Marshal Commander carefully places a hand on Crosshair's shoulder. He acknowledges what Cody says - arrest and saved my legion and so much more -, but Crosshair doesn't care. Not with Tech's lifeless, twisted body laid across his lap.

Though Crosshair knew that Cody loved Tech, as Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair have since the young clone had assimilated into the ranks of Experimental Unit 99, he wants to jerk Tech away from the Marshal Commander. Wanted to protect his brothers better than he had Tech-

Hunter's snarls draw Crosshair from his mind, just as he feels the steady and firm grasp of other clones twist underneath the sniper's arms. Crosshair wants to fight but he knows he has no energy left to fight and, as he was pulled away from Tech's body, his head slumped as tears fell unnoticed from his cheeks.

Hunter's helmet hung in his left hand as his back pressed against the exterior wall of the Umbaran control tower, his arms rested over his raised knees as he stared listlessly at his knees. He could hear the sound of voices - all those of regs - floating across the air base, yet nothing could drown out the sounds that had been permanently etched into his mind.

Tech's comms had been active the entire time his little brother had struggled helplessly against Krell, leaving Hunter to hear Tech's dying breaths and the sharp crack of his neck. All while Hunter and Wrecker were patrolling the air base's perimeter for any Umbarans shrouded in clone armor, and Crosshair was the only one able to respond quickly enough to try and protect Tech. Yet, even with Crosshair killing Krell, they had all failed. Hunter had failed in his one directive, being the protection of his brothers, and he could not stomach what his failure meant.

He had lost Tech to the hands of a traitorous Jedi, his brother's curiosity the death of him as Hunter had worried since their very first mission.

Hunter knew he would never forget the defiance he'd heard from his youngest brother, nor would he be able to remove the sound of Krell's lightsaber scything through Tech's chest from his enhanced senses. Every word Tech had said to Krell was stamped against Hunter's heart, a mark that would burn whenever Hunter tried to sleep or whenever his memory started to slip, and Hunter could never allow himself to forget.

If he forgot, then Hunter would make the same mistake he had upon arriving on Umbara, and he could never again fail his brothers in such a drastic manner. Not after Hunter saw what his failure would bring upon his family. Not after he had lost Tech.

As a cadet, Hunter had often wished he was deaf, if only so that he did not have to hear everyone's voices as well as his own screaming at him. Now his hatred was screaming at him, berating Hunter for failing Tech and allowing him to die at the hands of a Jedi who Hunter's senses had screamed danger near. Hunter had not fled at the first sign of danger and now he would have to live with the knowledge that his senses and his protective nature had failed Tech.

"Hunter?"

Even though the voice that spoke had the same lilt as all clone voices - save for Hunter's brothers -, he recognized Cody's stern gruffness immediately. Hunter's neck cricked - a sound that made him freeze momentarily as he remembered the snapping of Tech's neck - as he looked up from his knees, turned his head upward, and met Cody's gaze.

Cody looked worn and battered, his mouth twisted with an expression Tech would have been able to read but Hunter could not, and the pain in Cody's eyes was fathomless. Pain that Hunter had caused, by ignoring his senses around Krell and allowing Tech to die, and pain Hunter could never forgive himself for.

Hunter opened his mouth to apologize to Cody for failing him, only for the Marshal Commander to bend down and slowly sit beside him, Cody's hand gentle as he lay it over Hunter's left pauldron. Cody's warmth was surprising in its gentleness, his touch one of the few aside from Hunter's brothers he could ever accept without his skin crawling endlessly.

"The Republic is sending a shuttle to pick up Crosshair for killing Krell," Cody explained, his tone a hushed whisper as the Marshal Commander met Hunter's gaze. "I have already arranged for the guard in the prison barracks to head off for their break for fifteen minutes. The mortician released Tech to my care in the stead of Wrecker. The Havoc Marauder has been fueled and is in perfect working order. I wish you luck, Hunter."

Hunter stared at Cody, his mouth ajar as he tried to understand what Cody was offering him. Cody had always treated Hunter and his brothers differently, ever since they had first worked together and Tech's maturing voice had cracked when he had been unable to restrain his need to correct Cody's intel on the planet they had been assigned to. The Marshal Commander had seemed concerned when Tech, embarrassed by his voice crack, had fled to the Havoc Marauder, leaving the briefing with a suddenness none of the regs dared comment on as Cody's gaze shot to Hunter with a wordless question.

Hunter had waited until the regs were dismissed to explain Tech's nature to Cody and, as if caught by the same affection Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair had upon Tech joining their family, Cody had soon grown the same soft spot Hunter and his brothers had for Tech. Even Crosshair had eventually allowed himself to trust Cody, for Crosshair could not miss the way Cody genuinely cared for Tech and always went out of his way to ask Tech about local flora or fauna. The Bad Batch's respect had been won solely because of Cody's kindness to Tech, and now that which had first formed their bond with Cody was gone.

And for what?

"He saved my Legion and the 501st with his sacrifice, Hunter. There is nothing I can ever do to repay your brother for what he did, except to offer you that which I already have."

With that as Cody's answer to Hunter's unsaid question, and nothing else, Cody stood, gave Hunter a respectful nod, then turned and swept back into the command tower. Hunter dropped his helmet to the ground then, with a sob as brittle as ice, buried his face in his hands and cried.

Hunter had already lost so much because of his own foolish arrogance, and now he was going to lose Crosshair. The fierce and harsh brother who had always given up every part of himself for his brothers. The sniper whose aim had always been true in protecting his brothers, even if Crosshair had been moments late from saving Tech.

"I have already arranged for the guard in the prison barracks to head off for their break for fifteen minutes."

Realization in the shape of Cody's quiet statement, and the pain in the Marshal Commander's eyes that was fathoms deep, pulled Hunter to his feet slowly. He looked to where the Havoc Marauder was stationed in time to see Wrecker slowly trudging down the docking ramp, defeat written across his face as his broad shoulders slumped into Wrecker's large frame.

Now… Now Hunter understood what Cody had offered Hunter and his brothers, as he watched Wrecker stomp towards Hunter, a mask of anger hiding the agony Hunter could smell coming off Wrecker in torrents.

Cody had offered the Bad Batch a way out. A way to escape with Crosshair.

Hunter would not lose another of his brothers, least of all to the very Republic who had led to Tech's death. The Republic and the Jedi and Hunter's so-called "purpose" meant nothing to him, not when Hunter moved to meet Wrecker half-way and placed a comforting hand on Wrecker's bicep. Wrecker blinked down at Hunter slowly before he jerked his head up, though not quickly enough to prevent Hunter from seeing the tears that tracked down Wrecker's cheeks.

Hunter's enhanced senses had failed Tech, but Hunter's heart would not fail Crosshair.

"Follow me," Hunter commanded Wrecker, for the very last time in his life, before he turned on his heel and headed into the control tower.

Without Tech, the Bad Batch could never truly be complete, but Hunter would keep what remained of his family together. Away from the war and away from danger. Cody had offered them their freedom as thanks to Tech's sacrifice, and it was a sacrifice Hunter would not put in vain.

For he and his two remaining brothers were no longer Clone Force 99 of the Grand Army of the Republic. They were the Bad Batch. They were a family.

And, for Tech, they would remain that way until the end of time.

Even if Hunter could no longer trust himself or his judgement.

Even if Wrecker loathed his inaction.

And even if Crosshair would always live with the guilt that he had been moments too late to save Tech, Hunter would never allow his family to crumple. Tech had brought them all together and, for his brother's memory, Hunter refused to allow Tech's death to break what remained of his family apart.