The slow thrum of the ship exiting hyperspace pulled Omega swiftly from sleep. She sat up, all her former weariness running off her in a single sheet of excitement as she detangled herself from her blanket and skidded down the ladder.

"We're here?"

Hunter looked back at her as she hurried forward into the cockpit, and smiled. "We're here," he said.

Pantora came into view like a bubble caught in wind tunnel. The streaks of starlight melted away, and the planet loomed, its multi-colored orb bringing both excitement and nervous memories to Omega.

She hopped up and down by the dashboard, her curiosity and the thrill of traveling again muting any shivers of unpleasantness that flickered in her mind.

Tech brought the ship into atmosphere, and they shot down towards Pantora's surface; it took impossibly long, Omega thought, for Tech to finally level out over the buildings and maneuver the Marauder into position over the very same landing pad they'd visited before.

Tech paused and fiddled with the landing sequence controls, hesitating as Hunter gazed thoughtfully down into the landing area.

Omega wriggled.

Finally, Hunter clapped a hand to the back of the pilot's chair and huffed loudly.

"We're only here for a little while."

"We were cleared for this docking zone," Tech replied.

Hunter shrugged. "What's it to be? A fine if the cops catch us? Or risking problems with that double-crossing Sullustan?"

Wrecker stamped into the cockpit and leaned over Omega to look out the viewport. He kept one of his hands pressed firmly against the roof of the Marauder and braced the other on the dashboard.

There was a solid creak of metal, and Tech shot him a look as he held the ship in a hover over the pad.

"I'll handle 'im, Sarge," said Wrecker, a bit too cheerfully, Omega thought. She wasn't really sure what would happen or why, but -

Hunter tapped her arm. "Come on, kid. We've got a mission to complete."

Tech completed the landing sequence and stood, pushing past Wrecker to grab his datapad. "If you can call 'shopping' a mission," he said.

"Well, it sorta is!" Wrecker boomed.

Omega jumped, carried away by Wrecker's enthusiasm. "And we'll get the paint for Cr-" She stopped herself, clapping a hand to her mouth and lowering her voice when she spoke again. "And get paint for Crosshair's armor?" she whispered.

Hunter smiled and ruffled her hair. "And a new outfit for you," he added.

Omega hopped up and down as hard as she could. "Really? I get...new clothes?" She looked about at the smiling faces surrounding her, then faltered in her exhilaration and came to a stop.

"Wait... Do we have the credits for that?"

The others looked about at each other, then Hunter nodded firmly. Wrecker gave her a thumbs up, Tech scrutinized his datapad and observed everyone else, and Crosshair came out of the bunkroom, glared at them all and sighed.

"'Course we do," said Hunter. "You need something else, so we'll get it."

Omega shifted from one foot to the other. "Because I'm part of this squad, I have to earn it, right?"

Hunter smiled. "Glad you're not spoiled," he chuckled. "If you really want to, you can help earn the supplies. But maybe this time we'll consider it a gift."

Omega squirmed self-consciously. She didn't know what to do with the gratitude that suddenly overwhelmed her, so she hid her face against Hunter and hugged him.

There was a low, derisive snort.

Omega pulled away and turned about, wishing she still had her toothpick so Crosshair would know she hadn't forgotten about him. Just then the door to the hold slid open, and Echo climbed out.

"Heading out, Hunter?" he asked.

Hunter nodded and accepted the pouch Echo handed him.

"Don't lose those credits," he said. "It's pretty much all we've got."

"Not likely." Hunter shook the bag once and handed it to Tech who stuffed it into his utility belt.

Crosshair stepped fully into the cockpit and leaned against the wall, folding his arms so tightly his chin nearly disappeared behind them. "And what...?" he asked, then spread out his hands, tilting his eyebrows in a mildly bemused manner at Hunter. "I just get to sit here and wait for you all to come back?"

Omega looked up at Hunter, hoping with all her might that he would let Crosshair come along. Hunter didn't say anything for a long moment, so she turned back to Crosshair. "I think it would be nice if he came with us - he could help!"

Tech opened the Marauder's hatch and stepped out. Omega followed after him reluctantly when Wrecker gently pushed her, guiding her to leave.

"Echo, we'll be back," she heard Hunter say.

Then he was following her down the ramp, the hatch slid shut, and she was out on the streets of Pantora once again.

The reg didn't know what to do with him. Crosshair knew that - he could see it. One point to him. Minus one from Echo's nonexistent supply of 'Crosshair management' skills.

So far, Echo had done nothing but fiddle with the blasted AZ unit. And Crosshair had nothing to do but watch and get more irritated by the nervous way the usually technologically adept clone was maneuvering his project.

After another ten minutes of barely contained sneering, Crosshair stood, nettled to the brink. He needed his rifle.

"Where is it?" he asked.

Echo looked up and blinked. "What?"

"Where is it?" Crosshair repeated. "My gear. Where - is - it?"

Echo merely studied him. Crosshair held the gaze, unwilling to break eye-contact with someone who was literally on a lower level than he was. Finally Echo went back to his work. "Safe," he said.

Crosshair stepped forward and bent over the reg. The meaning in those words was blaringly obvious - so much so even Wrecker could have hit it. With a slug-thrower no less.

"I'm not safe?" he hissed.

Echo ignored him.

"So my gear was brought on board," Crosshair continued, not even trying tohide the sneer in his voice. "But you couldn't bring me."

"We've been over this, Crosshair," Echo replied without looking up. "We couldn't take you with us - you were...being controlled. You tried to kill us."

Crosshair snorted and gazed pointedly at the inactive AZ unit beneath Echo's fingers. "And you weren't helping to kill your brothers when you were under control?"

Echo's mouth became very tight, but he said nothing. Crosshair warmed to the attack and stood while Echo continnued to work on wiring the droid.

"Perhaps you've forgotten," said Crosshair, "that you were left for dead. Oh, I'm not saying you should have been, but you were. They didn't know you were still alive. Although I suppose you ought to be grateful. You probaby wouldn't have survived - well..."

He paused, anticipating the exact moment when Echo darkly replied,

"...if they hadn't tried to turn me into a droid."

Crosshair shrugged, "Well, it isn't exactly for me to say, but I wouldn't wish that on anyone - even if they deserved it."

Echo looked up from under his brows, hands pausing in his work as he studied Crosshair. "Uh-huh...?"

Crosshair waited a heartbeat more. Slow...wait. Fire.

"I wonder what Fives would think of being turned into a droid..."

Echo jerked his head upand slammed his hands down. "All right, smart guy, just what are you insinuating by that?"

"At least I can make a difference with my gear," Crosshair snarled. "I don't see how transforming Fives into a digitized memory serves anybody but yourself."

Wires scattered and metal plates and screws tumbled to the floor as Echo scrambled to his feet. "I don't need you to talk to me about Fives!" he yelled. "Yes, I want to remember more than just a face, I want to see what happened as much as possible -"

"Why?" Crosshair snapped. "It won't do him any good."

"Like you're even seeing the good to be done right in front of you!" Echo shouted. "You weren't here, and now you think you can waltz back in as if nothing were wrong and tell me I shouldn't have a problem with losing my best friend and brother when you haven't lost anyone! We lost you! None of my batch survived - somehow you all have! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Crosdhair folded his arms and watched the effects of his word rounds strike true. They always did. "You're jealous," he said.

Echo thrust his hands down at his sides and glared at the pile of AZ on the floor. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I guess I am. Can't see how you ever could ne, though. You don't care about anything. No more thatn - a toothpick."

That explained the lost look on the kid's face that morning. Omega had been staring between nothing and Crosshair, and her eyes had flitted to Echo more than once. But those words had struck some mark Echo hadn't been aiming for - Crosshair was reasonably sure, anyway - and he struggled to hild back any indication that Echo's shot had struck home.

"If you really cared about making things better for that kid and the others," he said, lowering his voice until he almost didn't recognize it, "you'd give me - my gear."

Echo shook his head and looked for a long moment at the droid in pieces on the floor. "No," he muttered. "I'm busy."

"Busy with what?" Crosshair snapped, irritated to verbal impatience now.

"Picking up the pieces and putting them away," said Echo.

Crosshair spun on his heel and stormed from the bridge. He was outside before he knew how or remembered why. Echo needed space after a phrase like that - so did Crosshair.

There was nothing left to do but find the others and prove Echo's despicable statment one hundered percent wrong.