A/N: Happy summer, y'all! Or winter, I guess. I went on a backpacking trip for a week! Then I started up my summer job again, and a week later I finally realized that it had been almost a month since I last touched this. So… yeah. I am proud of getting back on the wagon before it got away from me and summer was over. So here it is! :D

TW: needles, I guess? But only briefly.

Echo had no idea what was going on outside, and he hated every second of it. Another tremor reverberated through the otherwise still air of the medbay.

He had tried to keep track of how many seconds had passed since Hera had announced that they had docked on the arrestor cruiser, but he had lost count long ago. Whether that was because of how much time had actually passed, or a side effect from the painkillers he was currently on was debatable.

Repeatedly, he tried to convince himself the others would be alright. They were experienced, after all, and had two Jedi on their side. In the end though, it didn't do much to ease his nerves. He knew better than anyone that having a Jedi on your side couldn't singularly change an outcome, no matter how good they were.

General Kenobi had been "good." Commander Tano had been "good." General Skywalker had been beyond "good." And how had that helped the Jedi? They were all dead now, "good" or not.

He didn't want to doubt any of his brothers' skills either. Tech was an absurdly quick thinker, and loyalty to boot. Wrecker had strength of body and emotions on his side, and Crosshair was as dependable a sniper as he was a friend, when he put his stubborn mind to it. Hunter was an adept and experienced leader, but even he had his limits. They all made mistakes, loads of which Echo had been around to witness firsthand, and mistakes could be costly.

Another tremor.

Despite his better judgement, Echo was beginning to consider how far out of the medbay he could probably get with his injuries when Chopper went flying through the hall and past the open doorway, screeching an unholy number of profanities. Echo stiffened as he strained his ears to hear something besides the receding wails of the astromech, and occasional shudder of the Ghost, or the alarms resonating through both ships. Nothing. That is, until a horrific, metallic screeching, followed moments later by a massive crash echoed into the Ghost.

That was the last straw. Hunter and the others had been out there for far too long, and there was no way Echo was going to continue to sit there on a medical cot and listen to whatever the kriff was going on out there.

Before he could reconsider, Echo quickly swung his legs off the cot. He gritted his teeth as pain flooded his chest, but he chose to ignore it. Besides, he had experienced far worse injuries before. He could handle a few broken and bruised ribs. And maybe a concussion.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered several steps towards the door. He had hardly made it halfway when his legs gave way from under him and he just managed to catch himself on a cart, which then rolled into the wall with a loud crash, leaving him sprawled on his back on the deck. Echo groaned at the huge mess of medical supplies now littering the floor. Osik.

If Kix were here now, he would be dead ten times over, and not just because of the mess.

Taking a shaky breath and shoving aside the pain that it caused, Echo reached for the edge of the countertop to pull himself back onto his feet. He braced himself for the discomfort, and hauled himself until he was almost upright again. But his action was cut short when the room began to spin around him, and stars now flickering on the edge of his vision. Echo was so disoriented, he hardly noticed the movement of the deck beneath him, or the voices, or the figures now filling the hall and the doorway to the medbay.

"Echo?!"

Echo gasped, snapping his head up towards the familiar voice. Vaguely, his mind registered Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair crowding the doorway, but it was Omega whom his gaze zeroed in on, as quickly as the sight of Crosshair's rifle.

"Omega!" Recklessly, Echo pushed himself away from the counter, pain completely forgotten as he stumbled towards their adi'ka. Then, his arms were enveloping her in a hug and her face was pressing into his shoulder.

"We were so worried about you—" Echo cursed, and took a step back to look at her, "I was worried about you! What—?"

And then his eyes landed on her scorched, bloodied tunic, and his heart dropped. He felt himself waver on his feet as his mind whirled. Omega is injured. We have to get a medkit. Why aren't the others doing anything?

A hand gripped Echo's shoulder tightly, to the point where it was almost painful. But it was grounding, and it kept him from keeling over.

"Easy, Echo," Hunter said steadily, and Echo blinked.

Crosshair's icy gaze met his, as calm and calculating as ever. "She's fine, Reg."

Usually, Echo would have bristled at the use of Crosshair's old nickname for him, even in jest, but this time he readily latched onto it as another way to steady himself. Echo blinked again, and noticed Omega, who was now leaning against Tech, watching him with concern.

He didn't expect Crosshair's iron grip to suddenly jerk him backwards.

"But you're obviously not. Sit down."

Echo opened his mouth to argue, but another wave of pain and dizziness overwhelmed him, and he soon found himself being practically manhandled back onto the bed. And just in time, too. The deck of the ship shuddered, and Hera's voice crackled over the intercoms, "I hope you're all buckled up back there. It's about the get bumpy!"

Racing into the cockpit, Ezra jumped into one of the seats in time to avoid being thrown to the ground by the force of the Ghost's acceleration. Immediately, the space beyond the viewport became a blur of stars as Hera banked sharply to starboard, missing a massive chunk of durasteel by a hair. But as soon as they had evaded one piece of debris, others blocked their path.

"Watch out!" Ezra cried, as another shard came hurtling towards them.

Gritting her teeth, Hera jerked at the controls. "I see it!" The Ghost banked violently, and Ezra gripped the arms of his chair again. Out of the viewport, their escape route looked like an asteroid field.

"I'm on the turret!" Kanan's disembodied voice announced over the intercom.

Moments later, Sabine reported, "I'm on, too!"

"Clear us a path" Hera ordered without hesitation, and moments later, a chunk of debris the size of the Phantom was vaporized in a small explosion.

Ezra gripped the arms of his seat a little harder as the Ghost swooped straight through the cloud and the deck shuddered. No matter how much he trusted Hera, he couldn't help the way his stomach flipped and flopped with each sharp turn and sudden roll.

Ahead of them, the debris in their path began to disappear into balls of fire. Despite Kanan and Sabine on the cannons, doing their best to clear a path, the Ghost still shuddered and the clanging and screeching of metal against the hull echoed throughout the ship. There was an especially gruesome crash, and a red light began to flash demandingly on the dashboard. Sabine spat out a curse.

"I just lost power to my cannon!"

But that didn't matter, because among the chaos, Ezra spotted a gap in the debris, where stars and open space waited. "There's our way out!"

Unwaveringly, Hera jerked the controls, rolling to avoid another chunk of the cruiser, and adjusted their course. Ezra's muscles tensed and he gripped the arms of his seat with white knuckles, as if doing so could buy them a moment more.

The little patch of space disappeared. In its place, a massive sheet of metal flew into their path. Kanan blasted away with their remaining cannon, but it was no use. The debris was too big. It hardly made a dent.

"Hold on!" Hera shouted, but Ezra knew there was no use. Even with the shields intact, the Ghost would never make it out.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced for the end.

An explosion shook the Ghost, and before Ezra knew what was happening, cheers rang through the ship. The Ghost shuddered as it flew through the remains of the debris and out into open space, away from the cruiser.

"Phoenix leader, this is Green leader. That was a close one!"

Struggling to process what had just happened, Ezra blinked several times. Then, several fighters went whizzing past them, and he finally allowed himself to relax. They really had made it.

"Yeah, too close," Zeb grumbled as he stumbled his way into the cockpit. Ezra chuckled at the idea of Zeb, stuck out in the hallway as they dodged and twisted was an entertaining picture. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time it had happened to any of them.

Ezra turned back to the viewport in time to see Hera's shoulders slump in relief.

"Phoenix squadron, this is Phoenix leader. Let's get out of here," she called to the awaiting rebel fleet over the comms, the relief in her voice tangible. Then, pressing a series of buttons on the console, she eased the Ghost safely into hyperspace.

Only when Echo felt the Ghost jump into hyperspace did he finally dare to relax his death grip on the edges of his cot.

"Everyone still in one piece?" Hunter grunted as calmness reclaimed the medbay.

A chorus of groans was the answer. As Echo sat back up on his cot, wincing again at the twinge that it caused, he watched Wrecker pick himself up and out of the medical cabinet, rubbing his head. Not that Echo was surprised. His tallest brother did have the unfortunate skill of hitting his head on things. He had stopped being surprised that Wrecker didn't have more brain damage than he did long ago.

Meanwhile, Tech and Hunter were stumbling to their feet, Tech pushing his disheveled goggles back up his nose, and Hunter blowing away a graying lock of hair that had fallen out of his bandana and into his face. Crosshair, unfortunately, had lunged for the wheeled cart as Echo had done before, ended up on the floor with it in a catastrophic crash, and was only now disentangling his lanky limbs from the mess.

"We're fine," Omega answered, and Echo saw that she had been forced onto the other bed in the medbay. Finally, he felt the rest of the tension in his stomach dissipate, seeing her safe and in one piece. Their Meg'ka was with them again.

Now came an explanation.

But before Echo interrogate Hunter about what had happened and why in the pits the front of Omega's tunic was soaked with blood, Wrecker loomed over him.

"I thought we told you to rest," Wrecker said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned at Echo.

Oh, Force. Here it comes. Aware that he wasn't about to get out of a lecture on self-preservation and obeying direct orders by merely dodging the question, Echo met Wrecker's gaze evenly. "You did."

"Despite his continuous insistence otherwise –" Tech chimed in from where he was now meticulously examining Omega, "– Echo is almost as terrible as we are at following orders."

"Not true."

"Then why were you on the floor when we got here?" Crosshair scoffed.

Again, Echo meant to argue, but quickly realized there was really no excuse to give. At least not without digging his grave any deeper. He huffed.

"That's what I thought."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Omega said, and Echo couldn't help the ironic smile that crept onto his face. He shrugged.

"I could say the same for you." His eyes drifted down again to the dark red stain covering the front of Omega's shirt inquisitively. "What happened, anyways?"

"Admiral Correk."

Surprising himself at just how cold and dark his voice sounded, Echo said, "she did that?"

She nodded, and Echo was on the verge of asking whether they had taken care of it themselves, or if he had to go all the way back to the arrestor cruiser to make sure the job was done when Crosshair cut in, "don't worry. We solved the problem."

Gratefully, Echo met Crosshair's eyes. Despite their past differences, they understood each other perfectly just this once. No one hurt their ad'ika without paying hell.

Still, the mystery remained unanswered. How was she still breathing? You didn't survive a hit like unarmored, and it certainly didn't magically heal by itself in a matter of minutes. Luckily, as usual, Tech had the answers.

"It appears that thanks to the Jedi, Omega has healed almost entirely. Very fortunate, considering how close it came to your vital organs."

Echo raised his eyebrows. "They healed her?" He had heard about the Jedi's abilities to heal injuries with the Force. For the entirety of the war, stories had circulated around the GAR about Jedi generals and commanders healing men on the brink of death. Some of the stories were likely overexaggerated, either through miscommunication or deliberately, but others were much more believable, especially when he recalled the compassion many of the Jedi showed their troops. Despite that, he still had yet to see it for himself.

With a bright grin, Omega shifted her tunic to show Echo where the blaster wound had once been. "Not even a scratch." Then, she gasped, and everyone turned to her, concern blatant on their faces. "I need to thank them!"

Sighing in relief, Echo suppressed a laugh. It was good to see her time infiltrating the Empire hadn't changed her.

"There you all are."

All faces turned to the door, where Kanan stood, grinning. "I thought I'd find you here. Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine," Hunter replied gratefully as Kanan, and Hera filed in, while Ezra and Sabine listened from outside of the crowded room. Echo looked between Hunter and Kanan, confused. He wondered just how much he had missed, because the two looked to be getting along much better than before. Obviously, they all would be thankful to him and his padawan for saving Omega's life, but Echo still felt like there was more to it than that, a mutual understanding in spite of their history.

"And you, Echo?"

Surprised at being addressed so suddenly, Echo cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hanging in there, sir."

"Except that he was sprawled in the floor when we got here," Crosshair needled with a smirk.

Kanan chuckled, and Echo was reminded of the many times general Skywalker had asked him and his brothers the same exact question.

From her seat on the cot, Omega piped up, "I still have yet to thank you for saving my life. I owe you one. You and Ezra."

But Kanan was already shaking his head before she had even finished her sentence. "You don't owe us anything. Your bravery is the reason that operation back there is over. Without you, the rebellion would be done for."

Halfway through Kanan's little speech, Omega had begun rubbing the back of her neck, a sheepish smile on her face. "Even so… thank you. For saving my life, for finishing the mission. And for keeping my brothers safe." At this, Omega and Hunter locked gazes, and Echo could see the shining pride in both of their faces. Omega's smile brightened further when turned to Hera, who almost ran forward before they both fell into a hug.

"You became a pilot!" Omega cried joyfully and released Hera from their hug. "Just like you wanted!"

Before Hera could respond, Kanan butted in saying, "the best in the galaxy."

If Hera was at all flustered, she hid it well. Instead, she sent an impish smile towards Tech. "I had a good teacher."

"I doubt I had that much to do with it," Tech replied with a shrug. "You cannot teach such unpredictable and erratic evasive maneuvers."

Hera laughed.

Distracted with everything going on between them and the rebel crew, Echo didn't notice Tech preparing an injection of bacta until it was too late.

"Ow!" He yelped, a hand snapping up to his neck where Tech had injected the serum. "I keep telling to warn me!"

Tech shrugged. "And every time I do, you only get more anxious after I tell you. I prefer not to anticipate it."

"Yeah, that's because you're crazy!" Wrecker interjected, pointing an accusing finger at Tech. They had all fallen prey to their youngest brother's unexpected – though well meaning – attacks at one point or another. But to be perfectly honest, it really was better to catch Wrecker by surprise, at least.

As Tech brought out another, Echo sent him a glare as sharp as any needle.

"It's just an analgesic," Tech informed him crossly.

Finally relenting, Echo sighed and set his gaze forward. There was a reason he didn't like needles, or medbay visits, or anything of the sort, but at least his squad understood. Mostly. They were still some of the craziest di'kuts he'd ever known.

"Well, I should probably let your squad have some space. Maybe get some rest," Kanan suggested, before a dry grin spread across his face. "We have a town to rebuild, remember?"

Then, with a casual, two-fingered salute – a lot like the ones Echo had seen Ezra use numerous times, come to think of it – the crew left them to the medbay. A long silence followed, only broken by Omega's very confused voice.

"A what?"

The entire squad sighed in unison. It looked like they had some explaining to do as well.

A/N: HOLY MOLY it's almost done. I already have a draft in for the last chapter and the epilogue, but I'm not going to be able to work on it this coming week. Hopefully I'll still be able to publish it next Saturday? And I'm leaving tomorrow, so I figured I might as well post this a little earlier. After all, my poor, starved readers have waited long enough. Anyways, if everything goes right, this should be finished within the month!

Wow.

I really can't believe I just said that.

Well, see ya soon! - Bubblez