One

Hunter is no stranger to headaches, having had them all his life. His mutation has always been a blessing and a curse. But the headaches that have plagued him since their crash-landing on some no-name moon have been vicious, pounding, unrelenting things that even the med patches can't quell.

It's a terrifying moment when he realizes what those headaches really mean. He's standing beside Rex's table in Cid's parlor, head throbbing in time to his now racing heartbeat as Rex tries to communicate to him and the rest of the batch how desperate the situation is. He swallows hard before he rasps out a sentence in response to Rex's: "Those chips make you a threat to everyone around you. Even her. You're all ticking time bombs."

"Take it easy, Captain," he says as though his head isn't splitting open, as though he isn't 100% certain what all these resounding headaches mean. Rex gives him a steely look in response and continues.

"What's in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. I've seen what happens when the chip activates, and i don't want to bury any more of our brothers," he says, his expression full of a world of pain and loss.

Hunter understands. Criffing hell, he knows first hand the pain those damn chips bring down on an entire squad, let alone one lone man adrift in the galaxy. Rex doesn't seem to think his point is made, because he hammers it home with what he says next.

"Trust me," he says, staring into Hunter's gray eyes, "It is not something you can control. I couldn't. It's a risk you do not want to take."

He's right. Hunter nods fractionally, and dredges up a weak salute. He wants to put someone else in charge, needs to, if he's honest with himself. Kallar was his breaking point, his epiphany. He can't carry the load alone, but the one person whom he shared it with the most isn't here to shoulder it for, or with, him.

"How," he manages through a wash of fresh pain, "Do you suggest we get them out?"

Rex studies him intensely, then rises to his feet as he answers, "Good question. I'll be in touch."

Hunter takes that for the dismissal it is. He wonders, as Rex exits, if he can get drunk enough not to hurt.

He seriously doubts it.

"I don't like this plan," says Wrecker three days later as the ship is racing through hyperspace towards the planet of Brakka. Hunter doesn't either, but he doesn't agree with the brawny man.

"We agreed to meet Rex on Brakka," Hunter all but growls, aware that the constant, wearing pain has frayed his temper nearly to the breaking point.

He wants to apologize, but can't find the words through the next wave of brilliantly white pain that obscures his vision and makes him groan. It isn't until he feels a cool hand on his forehead and the feel of armored arms beneath him that he realizes he passed out for at least a few moments. Long enough, he comprehends, that he's in Wrecker's arms with Omega's small, soft hand stroking loose strands of hair back off his sweaty forehead.

"Hey, kid," he mumbles, forcing his eyes open and giving her a pathetic excuse for a smile. Omega doesn't seem to mind, though.

"Is this normal?" he hears Echo ask Tech in an anxious undertone.

"Unlikely," comes back the clipped, but concerned, response. Hunter groans again.

"How long until we get to Brakka?" asks Omega, just as worriedly. There is the sound of Tech tapping and then his response.

"Another hour."

Hunter just moans.

There is no scenario in which Hunter can get off the Havoc Marauder under his own power. It isn't that he's weak, he knows. It's his criffing senses, so overloaded at this point that he's crying by the time they reach the Jedi cruiser. Hunter's pretty sure he'd rather be dead right now, as he is carried into the medical bay and placed on a bed, the others talking in hushed tones.

"This won't hurt a bit," says Tech far too cheerfully. It isn't Tech, though, that his pain riddled senses focus on, but Rex, over in a corner, talking with Echo. Something about what they're saying catches his attention. And then he hears it.

"Order 66."

CT 9901's pain is suddenly assuaged. Everything is crystal clear as his eyes fly open and he lunges, catching CT 9903's wrist and squeezing until the hypo drops to the floor. Then he's rolling off the bed, and pinning CT 9903 against the nearest wall, his enhanced senses telling him that everyone in the room is too stunned to react.

"Hunter!" CT 9903 chokes. CT 9901 flings him aside and reaches for his pistol as he speaks.

"You're in direct violation of Order 66."

"Hunter?" comes Omega's quavering voice and he turns.

"You're all traitors!" he snarls menacingly as he aims his pistol and fires.

It's Wrecker who takes the hit, dropping wounded to the med bay floor. CT 9901 smiles grimly and stalks forward, deftly dealing with the others, though some part of him rebels at killing any of them until a streak of fire ignites along his left cheek. He spins and finds Omega aiming her energy bow at him. CT 9901 stares, then flows forward in a graceful, liquid motion, his sights set on her.

"This isn't you, Hunter! It's the inhibitor chip!"

"Conspiring with traitors," he says as he follows her retreating form out of the med bay, "Makes you guilty of treason!"

"Please," she begs, "I don't want to hurt you!"

CT 9901 smiles and glides after her through the ship, never losing track of her. Her heartbeat, her breathing, her scent, they all conspire to give her away. He's closing in when he hears the sound of a blaster firing and takes a shot right to the back. He turns for an instant, almost able to fight through the stun, then falls.

The world goes blessedly, peacefully black.

"He's awake!"

Hunter hears Omega's voice from a distance. He opens his eyes, aware of her studying him intently. He offers here the weakest of smiles and a thumbs up before everything comes crashing in on him.

"Oh, Omega," he whispers.

"It wasn't you, Hunter," she says firmly. "Not really."

"No," he agrees, realizing that guilt is the last thing he needs to feel right now. Later, maybe, he'll let himself feel that. He sits up as Tech comments that he made it, and catches Rex's eye, giving the smallest hand signal that indicates they need to talk. Rex nods, but before he steps outside, Hunter crouches next to Omega, resting a hand on her small shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Omega," he says simply. She smiles and hugs him tight. It makes what must come next all the harder as he rises and exits the room.

"Something on your mind?" Rex asks.

"Yeah," comes Hunter's quiet answer. :"You didn't tell us we'd still be aware, deep down."

Rex flinches, then lowers his head in agreement. Hunter's hand lashes out and catches the other clone's shoulder.

"I knew, the whole time I was dispatching you and hunting Omega, that it was wrong. That I was wrong. And yet, I couldn't help it."

"I remember," comes Rex's rough response and Hunter nods.

"Then you know what I have to do, Captain."

"Hunter, you can't!"

"You going to stop me?"

"What about your squad?"

"They'll help. Hell, you can help if you want. But I'm going after Crosshair."