A/N: Chapter title with permission from Lapis01 on AO3. Thank you for all those lovely stories, Lapis01! I am looking forward to more!

Crosshair hadn't remembered leaving the cockpit. All he knew was that the bunkroom door was locked and the murmurings outside had stopped long ago. His heart still pounded uncomfortably hard, and it was strange to note that, when he came to himself, he was poised in a defensive stance, ready to pounce on any intruders, though unharmed except for a throbbing ache in his head.

"...remove...inhibitor chip..."

Crosshair sank down on his mattress and buried his face in his hands. He knew it. Rampart had re-chipped him. The master and his faithful pet. Crosshair had willingly thrown himself at the mercy of a man who had none. And he'd paid for it.

He couldn't think. His thoughts slammed behind his eyes - he pressed his palms against them, snarling in exasperation. He needed a distraction...

Cid's message.

Crosshair looked about for his pack. He needed that datapad to slow down the transmitters recording -

A sharp spike shot through his head and he gasped, instantly clamping a hand to his mouth.

He remembered now what he had needed to remember so badly. What he needed to tell to prove to the others that everything he had done had been for them. That he did care. The datapad. The recording. Would they even believe him...?

There was a soft clicking, and Crosshair sighed. He was a fool to even try for their trust. Especially after running when removing his chip was suggested. Now someone was unlocking the door - they couldn't even leave him alone for a minute.

He straightened as the door opened, unwilling to let anyone see him as if he were defeated.

Tech walked in and came to a halt in front of Crosshair. He held out a pack which was balanced on one arm.

"Echo said you were looking for your gear."

Crosshair took the pack and set it between his boots, pulling open the slide and rummaging through the contents. "And my weapons?"

"I don't know."

Crosshair looked up sharply. "You don't know?"

Tech shook his head, and Crosshair turned back to pulling his items from the pack. He needed to find it...

Tech's hand hovered below his face, and Crosshair pulled back and stared at the object Tech held out to him.

"Were you searching for this, perhaps?"

"Yes..." said Crosshair. The hollow tone of his voice just made the alarm he felt that much more potent. "I...Tech, I was going to tell you."

Tech shifted his weight to one leg and flipped the datapad over. "And you didn't."

"I couldn't remember!" Crosshair stood, numb warnings flashing behind his eyes. He angrily shoved them away. "Tech..."

Tech's eyes continued to study the datapad until finally, he looked at Crosshair. And Crosshair found he couldn't look back.

"Why didn't you destroy the recording?" said Tech. "What if Omega had found this? Crosshair, I would have assumed you to have more discretion than to keep such things as this lying around."

Crosshair fumbled for some response. What could he say? That he had kept the file as a reminder that his staying with the Empire was the only way to prevent more of what he'd seen from happening to his brothers? That it gave him some strange comfort to know it had pulled him from the chip's complete control? That it gave him something to remember the others by...?

"It wasn't lying around, was it?" Crosshair hissed. "Hunter took my gear."

"I took your gear," said Tech.

"What...? Why?" Crosshair pressed a hand to his stomach, uncomfortable with the anxiety writhing there. Tech cocked his head, and Crosshair shifted his hand to his side, although the injury wasn't paining him enough to warrant it. "Did you delete it?" he asked

Tech sighed loudly through his nose and powered on the datapad.

"I did not. The one sent to my current device was removed. You are saying you had forgotten you needed to inform me of this?"

"Yes," Crosshair whispered. "Hunter doesn't trust me. You don't trust me. Echo sure doesn't either."

"And Wrecker?"

Crosshair shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well," Tech snapped. "Omega certainly won't trust you if she becomes aware of this." He began busily swiping through files and pulled up the very recording Rampart had played for Crosshair. Crosshair shuddered, but the solid bitterness that sprang up at Tech's reply pushed him to speak again.

"Strangely enough, Tech, I think the kid would understand more than you," he spat.

Tech didn't answer. He was studying the screen, eyes dull.

"I am assuming you viewed it in its entirety," said Tech quietly.

Crosshair nodded, anger muted. It was now or never. "I felt something," he muttered. "It was after Bracca. I knew something was wrong...and I knew you were in it..."

Tech cocked his head.

Crosshair bit his tongue and took a breath. The words felt strange and heavy, but he forced them out anyway, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Rampart tested me. The first chip had been removed - and I became aware of the second after that test..."

"He...found this file?" said Tech slowly.

"He did. I could feel something was wrong. I knew it was. He..."

"...used this to see where your loyalties were," Tech finished.

Crosshair took a breath. "I have to go back..."

Tech said nothing. He tapped the screen and slid through the recording.

"Tech...?" Crosshair shifted his weight.

Tech's face was pale, even in the dim lighting.

"Tech, put it away."

"I have," said Tech calmly.

Crosshair nodded, unwilling to contradict him.

Tech watched for a moment longer.

"Why do you want to return to the Empire, Crosshair? This Rampart, presumably your superior, will not likely accept you back under his command, especially once he discovers you have been with us. Weren't we ordered terminated?" He tucked the datapad under one elbow and stepped forward, blinking owlishly at Crosshair. "You do realize that torture and execution are what await you if you go back."

Crosshair huffed a laugh. "Rampart won't get the chance. He'll never know I was here... I'm good at my job."

Tech's eyes narrowed, but he stepped back. "Where were you when you...sensed this discomfort about my wellbeing?"

"On Kamino."

"And the time this file was created...?"

"Rampart showed it to me about ten minutes after I...felt it. It cut the chip's control. Tech, listen. I know you don't trust me, but..." He faltered, unsure of how to continue.

"Hm..." Tech sniffed and scratched his chin. "Well, it would not be the first time I have heard of such a thing... I have experienced it myself on multiple occasions, but not to the intensity you are describing. The chips are...powerful."

"Look," Crosshair snapped. He was tired of the back-and-forthing and wanted out. "It cut the chip, that's all I know. I know you don't trust me -"

"Why should I?" said Tech. "You said you were going back to the Empire."

"I am," Crosshair growled.

Tech shot him a piercing look. "That is precisely the reason I do not trust you -"

"What!?"

"-with your gear," Tech finished.

Crosshair started to sputter, but Tech held out the datapad and surprised him into silence.

"So far, you have given no reason for me to trust you. I want to, Crosshair. I want to. And I might be able to - slightly."

Crosshair took the datapad, and Tech continued. "Please destroy this recording. You know the methods to disrupt a file's integrity before the layers of deletion so that even I cannot recover it. I do not know why you kept this. But get rid of it now."

Crosshair sneered, hurt and angry by the former subject. "How do I know you haven't sent Sullo Pria's recording to your personal datapad?" he scoffed.

Tech twitched. "I have not," he said.

"Why not?"

"I have forgiven her."

Crosshair shifted, irritated and confused. Tech had seen more in Crosshair than even Crosshair thought at first. He was sure of it. But asking directly would only confirm what he knew Tech suspected - that his loyalty to the Empire had long been dissolved...

"Why do you want me to get rid of a stupid file," he spat.

"Because Rampart gave it to you," said Tech simply.

He cut Crosshair off with a wave of his hand. "We will talk again once your chip has been removed. I cannot be certain that you are not acting under its influence."

And he turned around and left.

Crosshair sank back onto the mattress and clutched the datapad. His hands were shaking, and he had the sudden, violent urge to fling the device as far from him as he could. There was something in addition to the hinted suspicion in Tech's manner and words that pained him, and he couldn't place a finger on it - which made the confusion that much more potent.

With a sigh, he opened the tablet and prepared to follow through with Tech's request; but some bitter memory caught him abruptly, seizing up his chest, and he growled, working quickly to open the file again - memories, memories, memories! - he could access far more if he wanted. He remembered all of Tech's old passwords and data keys.

Tech had never changed much of his security information. He had no reason to, Crosshair thought. He trusts us. ...He used to trust me...

That whispering voice... But will he ever trust you again now...? Get rid of it! This is the chance he gave you...!

Crosshair batted the thought angrily away and started the video.

Another little test from that scientist? he shouted in his mind. To prove I don't hold some petty hatred for that kriffing admiral? I would never be so sloppy...

He pushed himself as far back in the bunk as he could and left the volume down, not wanting to hear what had startled him so much upon his first being informed of the file's existence.

His thoughts tumbled over themselves, and he lost himself in the down spiral of madness, feeling the hot anger rushing through his limbs. The hot anger and the fear. What he was seeing now, playing out before him, was exactly what Rampart had promised to each of his teammates if and when they were "returned" to the Empire...by Crosshair.

Crosshair gripped the device until the casing creaked under the pressure of his fingers. The orders he'd received, the things he'd done to help his squad, to secure his own survival... Rampart had caged him inside his own mind, and the only way to escape that Crosshair had seen was to carry out his orders long enough to gain the Admiral's trust, and then quietly step to a position where he could secure

What could Tech possibly want to forgive? And for what? Sullo Pria had tried to turn Tech into a monster - and once, her efforts had been successful...

Crosshair's heart pounded, and he let the erratic thumping drown out the lightning thought that Rampart was succeeding in the same effort with him...

The video Tech was writhing madly, mouth clenched in a silent scream which Crosshair heard despite having muted the recording.

I have a reason to risk myself - Sullo Pria needed to be killed just like Rampart needs killing. This can't happen to anyone else - myself, my squad, no one!

"No one needs killing... Not like this..."

Crosshair started, then flinched in fury. That had been Hunter's voice. Of course it was. He recognized it now. All his other thoughts, those whispers that kept tugging him back from time to time, were a blend of Tech's, Wrecker's, Echo's, and Hunter's voices. That voice was all of them.

He considered this strange thought for no more than an instant before sinking back into the miserable hatred stirring in his breast. Rampart needed to die.

Hunter's voice tried to sound again, but Crosshair turned up the video's volume a single click. That was enough to shut up the sanctimonious monologue. But despite reinforcing his anger at every creature like the Kaminoan now beating Tech on the screen, he couldn't silence Hunter's voice entirely.

He's trying to tell me something. And an instant later -

Ridiculous! He doesn't understand!

The video clattered, and Omega came clambering down a storage rack. Crosshair tapped at the screen, but instead of shutting the file, it skipped to a scene Crosshair had unconsciously avoided his first time viewing it. He fumbled with the datapad, but couldn't secure it until after Omega had been shocked into a screaming fit.

A bone-weary chill swept through him and he swiped angrily at his eyes. Closing down the device, he followed Tech's instructions with shaking hands, and once everything was completed, he threw it across the room.

Silence.

The voices were quiet. Waiting.

Crosshair tipped his head back against the wall. Being alone had always been what he'd done. Being alone to watch over the others, being alone to maneuver a mission and come out alive with those defeated never knowing it had been he who had taken their lives...before it had been droids. Only once before he had been shipped out from Kamino with the others had it been a sentient.

Tech hadn't been on that mission. He had come to meet the others one their return, and Crosshair had pushed him away and fled, unable to contain the horror of what he had done. He had learned very early to harden himself against others and his own mind... Always, he had been pushing, hiding...running - despite that he had told the others to stop running... It was for a very different reason.

Echo had his ideals, Hunter, his morals, Tech, his fascination with and need to understand everything he encountered, and Wrecker, an open, caring heart. Wrecker was, by far, the least infuriating of the bunch right now... But approaching him would only pull the others along, too.

Crosshair groaned. He couldn't continue like this. He had never felt so alone in his life.

Nowhere was safe, least of all his own mind. And the only one who had neither the knowledge nor the skill to attack him...

...was Omega.