Chapter 7

A/N: Wow, this one took waaaayyy too long to write. Sorry about that, but I've been really busy these last few weeks. This one also turned out a little longer than usual, and the second part could have been a whole other chapter, but anyways I hope you enjoy!

The crew shouted in unison as a rock smashed into the hull of the Ghost, causing the ship to shudder and dozens of warning lights to flash.

At that moment, time seemed to slow. Rocks were falling down right on top of them. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening! Hera had to get them out of this, someone had to come to the rescue! But deep in his chest, Ezra knew it was so tight that no ship, not even with Hera's expertise, would be able to get through. They had run out of luck; run out of tricks to play. He gripped the chair ever tighter and squeezed his eyes shut, begging for a miracle.

Then Hera and Sabine gasped. At this, Ezra opened his eyes and his jaw dropped.

Around them, the boulders were suspended in midair, as if time had frozen. Behind and in front of them, they continued to fall, and Ezra heard more explosions as the last of the tie-fighters were crushed. Still at a loss for words, Hera quickly but carefully piloted their way through the asteroid field-like scene before them. As soon as they were out in the open again, Ezra heard Kanan let out a gasp of relief over the comm system, and the rocks went tumbling down again.

Finally, Ezra was able to breathe again. Turning to look at Sabine, the two made eye contact before bursting into laughter. They had made it through, thanks to Kanan. Ezra was sure they were finally in the clear. Until the alarms went off.

Chopper made a sound that sounded too similar to uh oh for Ezra's liking, before turning to Hera.

"We need to land. Now," Hera announced over the comms, just as several more alarms began wailing, and the Ghost pitched sideways dangerously. Whatever damage she had sustained in the rockfall, they had to land immediately.

Flying the Ghost just above the tree line, Hera and the crew scanned desperately for a safe, hidden place to land. The minutes ticked by, and they continued to search, all painfully aware that it was only a matter of time before the cruiser sent more fighters after them. If they found them, there was no way the Ghost could survive.

"Sithspit," Sabine cursed.

"Language," Hera scolded her, but Ezra entirely agreed with her. The only thing below them was unbroken forest, and beside them was a rocky mountain face so steep that no ship could land on it. Then Ezra saw something just ahead. Really, he wasn't sure how he knew it was there because it was totally hidden from view by the trees.

"Look!" He cried, pointing down at the tree covered mountain.

"I don't see anything," Sabine said.

"No, hidden by the trees! In the side of the mountain," he pointed again, and Hera and Sabine's eyes widened. In a tiny patch of clear space at the base of the mountain yawned a huge cave.

"Do you think it's big enough to hold the Ghost?" Hera asked doubtfully.

"Only one way to find out," Ezra replied.

Cautiously, Hera brought the Ghost down into the trees. Holding his breath, Ezra heard tree branches scraping the sides of the ship. He glanced over to Hera as she gripped the controls tightly, lips pursed and muscles tense. When they were level with the cave and only a few meters off the ground, Hera turned the ship around gently pushed the Ghost back. A shadow came over the ship as they slid into the cave. Ezra's pulse was pounding in his ears, but he was positive that the Ghost would fit.

Soon, they were completely hidden in shadows, and Hera let out a sigh of relief as the Ghost landed with a shuddering whine. She looked over her shoulder at him, a proud smile on her face,

"Quick thinking, Ezra."

He grinned back at her, "you were great too."

Kanan and Zeb entered the bridge, examining the cavern.

"Well, that's one way to hide from the Empire," said Kanan, staring at the small entrance with admiration.

Ezra turned to his master with wide eyes, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Lift all those rocks!"

With an amused chuckle, Kanan ruffled Ezra's hair, "size matters not, my padawan."

"Come on, Kanan! Teach me how!"

"I don't think you're there yet."

Ezra groaned in irritation as Zeb also ruffled his hair. He was determined to get there soon, especially if it meant he'd get Zeb to stop teasing him.

The crew settled in the cockpit, and Kanan spoke what was on all their minds, "Alright, we've hidden the Imperials for the time being. Now the question is: how did they find us?"

"The Bad Batch didn't sell us out. They've been working against the Empire for years. They wouldn't have helped them, especially after what happened to Omega," Hera said, eyes still shadowed with grief. Kanan didn't reply. While he still didn't like the Bad Batch, he had at least accepted that they weren't an enemy.

As the conversation continued, Ezra stared at the floor, thinking. The Empire didn't know we were meeting here, or they would have been waiting for us when we arrived. So, they found out some time after. Maybe they tracked us here? No, he realized, there was no way they could have tracked them all the way here. The ship was called the Ghost for a reason, it was untraceable.

There was one other possibility. Someone had told them. Someone on their side, or supposedly on their side, had given the Empire their location. For a moment, the picture of the sniper glaring at Kanan with narrowed eyes flashed through his mind. But, as Hera had said, the Bad Batch wasn't working for the Empire any longer and hadn't for a long time. What if…

"Omega!" Ezra suddenly blurted out, and the crew's heads turned to him as one. "What if Omega's still alive? They could have forced her to tell them where we were!"

Hera's eyes widened with both fear and hope. If the Empire did have her, then she was in terrible danger. The Empire had already found and pinned them, what was to stop them from getting rid of her now? The others seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"We have to save her," Sabine said, sitting up straighter.

"Slow down, we need to take this one step at a time," Hera said, although she probably wanted to rescue her friend just as much as anyone else. "Right now, the Ghost can't even get off the planet. We need to do some repairs. We also need to find the Bad Batch. As Omega said, there's no way we can decrypt the plans ourselves."

Sabine grudgingly leaned back in her chair. Hera was right, they couldn't leave without finding the Bad Batch first.

"Okay," Kanan said, obviously still reluctant to have anything to do with the squad, "but we also can't let the Empire take back the plans, so we need to be subtle about it."

Hera nodded. "They probably didn't stay near the town after the Empire opened fire. Have any ideas how we might find them?"

"No. But there is a chance that they might find us if—"

"What about the townspeople?" Ezra interrupted. None of them had said anything about the entire town that had been destroyed because of their mere presence. "It's our fault that their town was destroyed. We need to help them!"

The rest of the crew lowered heads or averted their gazes, all except for Sabine, "Ezra's right. We have to do something to help them."

Although Kanan's expression was conflicted, he shook his head, "the best thing we can do for them is to get off of this planet as soon as possible. Hopefully, after we leave the Empire will follow."

"Hopefully?" Ezra said, balling his fists. He took a deep breath and tried to see the sense in his master's plan. Still, frustration bubbled in his chest as he nodded along with it. He would wait for a better time to help the locals, wait until they had a fully formulated plan. Either way, he would do more that hope the Empire would leave them alone after they left.

Kanan continued, "we could try to look for the Bad Batch. Or we could let them find us. Their sergeant is a skilled tracker and can sense electromagnetic pulses. If we give them something to look for, they could find us without the Empire ever knowing our location."

As Kanan spoke, Hera began nodding in agreement. It was a safe bet. The Empire didn't have any troops that specialized in tracking, nobody better than your average scout trooper, but if Hunter was as skilled as Kanan was letting on, then they wouldn't need to make themselves very obvious.

"I think it's the best plan we have," she said.

Kanan stood, "Then we'd better get to work."

Hunter groaned. His entire body ached, and his head throbbed as if he had been tossed about like a rag doll. He registered hushed voices, as if from far away. His head throbbed again, and he wondered vaguely if he had a concussion.

Finally, he opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the cockpit above him. Lifting his head, he looked around the trashed room. The crash had flung supplies all over the Havok Marauder. He heard noises in the cabin and remembered that Tech had been piloting the ship. He was nowhere to be seen, so Hunter reasoned that he was probably in the cabin. With a grunt, he was about to push himself up when pain shot through his right arm, and he bit down a yelp.

Alerted by the noise, Tech poked his head into the cockpit. "Oh, good. You're awake," he stated bluntly as he picked his way through the mess and knelt down next to Hunter with his datapad. Hunter noticed him wince at the movement.

"Let me see," he said, holding out his hand for the arm that Hunter had tucked close to his chest.

Gritting his teeth, he let Tech remove the armor on his arm to examine it, then scan it with his datapad. Tech hummed to himself, then began tapping away at the datapad.

"'Hmm?' What does 'hmm' mean?" Hunter asked. Although he was beyond used to it, Tech's overly calm demeanor often startled him.

"You have sustained an oblique displaced fracture to your radius. I do not believe you have any other major injuries, but your arm will take time to heal."

"How much time?" Hunter asked, although he knew he wouldn't like the answer.

"At least six weeks."

Hunter sighed. Of course, it would. And of course, it had to be his dominant hand. He was proficient enough with his left hand, but it would still be more difficult. He'd have to figure out how much more difficult it would be later.

Now that his headache had mostly left and the pain in his arm had faded to a dull throb, he used his other arm to sit up all the way and tilted his head to look past Tech into the main cabin. He heard a hoarse cough from the other room and shifting as whoever it was tried to get up.

"Crosshair, if you're moving, I will not hesitate to sedate you," Tech threatened, although he was now injecting a syringe of painkillers into Hunter's arm. He continued to poke and prod at it, supposedly trying to get a fix on the broken bone.

"What's happened to Cross?" Hunter asked, anxious to know about the others.

"He sustained a mild concussion," Tech explained casually, "I told him to remain sitting, but of course he never listens," he said, shooting a brief glare at the sniper as he appeared, leaning heavily on doorway.

"Sit down, Crossha—" Hunter was cut off by his own a yelp of pain as Tech suddenly moved the bone back into place. He gritted his teeth as the world spun again and his stomach twisted sickeningly. As soon as he was sure he wouldn't scream when he opened his mouth, he snapped, "a warning would've been nice!"

"Well, I thought it was obvious." Hunter grumbled as Tech fixed a splint around his arm, then pushed himself up, wincing visibly, and returned to the cabin, glaring at Crosshair as he went. Crosshair only rolled his eyes and put out a hand to help Hunter up.

The two followed Tech into the even messier cabin and Hunter glanced around. The door was open, and Wrecker was nowhere to be seen. His stomach clenched. "Where's Wrecker?"

"Watching for the Imperials," Echo replied, voice tight as Tech injected painkillers into his arm. Tech gave him a warning look as he stood to face them.

"They shot us down because they are looking for the plans," Tech reasoned, "it's only a matter of time before they send a search party after us."

Hunter nodded. Tech was right. They had to think up a plan before the Empire got to there.

"Alright, the Empire's probably on their way as we speak, out ship is trashed, and we have no idea where the others went," he said.

"Anything else?" Crosshair asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yes," Hunter replied, giving Crosshair a warning look, "most of us are injured in one way or another, so fighting isn't an option."

As much as he hated to admit it, they were in no shape to fight. From Echo's shallow breathing, Crosshair's concussion, his broken arm, and whatever kept causing Tech to wince whenever he put weight on his foot, Hunter knew it would be virtually impossible to fend off whatever the Empire sent their way.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to gather his thoughts, and stopped altogether. He could sense something that he hadn't noticed before. A machine was running, nothing large, but it wasn't far away.

When the Bad Batch had passed through the town, Tech had commented on how technologically lacking the entire settlement was. The most advanced piece of tech that they had was an old, battered server droid at the local canteen. Hunter hadn't sensed anything then, and he doubted the townspeople had developed any advanced machinery overnight. He concluded that it was either the rebels or the Imperials. But the Empire was aware of his skills. If they were after the Bad Batch, they wouldn't want them to track them, and would stick to using smaller equipment.

"You're making the face again," Echo said, staring at him, and Hunter frowned.

"What face?"

"The one you make when you're really focused on something."

"I don't make a face," Hunter protested.

"Yes, you do," Tech said, without looking up from his datapad.

Hunter sighed in exasperation. Sometimes his brothers drove him crazy. "Okay, yeah, I did pick something up. Someone's using a machine of some sort. It's not too far away, somewhere in the valley."

"Do you think it's the Empire? Or the rebels?" Echo asked.

He shook his head, "the Empire doesn't want us to know their location. They want the plans. If it's anyone, I think it would be the rebels."

"They didn't make it off of the planet," Tech added, "The Empire would have sent ships after them. They might even have left orbit if they knew the others were fleeing."

"Alright, I think our best course of action is to find the source of the signal. If it is the rebels, then we have a better chance of getting out of this alive.

In the corner of his eye, Crosshair shifted. "Are you sure we can trust them?" the sniper asked, and Hunter knew immediately that Crosshair knew something that he didn't. Hunter tilted his head, and Crosshair continued, "There's something familiar about that Jedi. Didn't you notice it?"

Hunter thought back to their encounter with the rebels. Yes, he had noticed something off about the Jedi. He had been skeptical about them, but Hunter could understand why; the clones had betrayed and murdered hundreds of Jedi at a second's notice. But what were the chances that it was who Crosshair was suggesting?

Still…

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked, still disbelieving.

"I mean I think he is the padawan that you let escape during Order 66."

The squad's gaze landed on Hunter. He had never told them what had really happened when they chased down the Jedi padawan. Crosshair had always known. It was an echo from the past, and it brought back many old tensions with it.

"Even if he were the same Jed, what difference does it make?"

"He won't trust us, Hunter. Why should we trust him?"

At this point, Hunter found himself getting frustrated at his brother's persistence. He had trusted Omega just as much as any of his squad, if she had sent the rebels to them then she must have been positive that they were reliable.

"Omega wouldn't have sent them to us if she didn't know if they were on our side, so let it go," Hunter finally snapped, and a heavy silence descended on the group at the mention of Omega's name. Crosshair lowered his gaze. Although he wouldn't have admitted it before Omega left for her undercover mission, and he certainly wouldn't admit it now, he cared about Omega as much as any of them.

And she was gone.

Hunter's shoulders sagged with the weight of the emotions he had shoved aside until then. Constantly, he wondered if things would have gone differently if he had been there. He knew that it wasn't his fault, years of war taught them as much, but he still wished he could have done something, anything to—

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

"Come on," Echo said quietly, "we have to get out of here before the Empire arrives."

As the group approached the ship's lowered ramp, Hunter noticed Tech come to a halt, and turned to see him staring into the wrecked cabin. Hunter joined him and his heart clenched. Until now, he had been too distracted and hadn't realized that finding the rebels meant abandoning the Marauder.

Memories linked to the ship flooded his mind, each one familiar and painful at the same time. Tech fussed at Echo to stop messing with the machinery because you're doing it wrong, and this was his ship. Crosshair perched on top of their gonk droid, needling at Wrecker with a smug smile. All of them huddled tightly on a single bunk because Echo had woken up screaming, and none of them cared that their foot had gone numb because all that mattered was each other.

And Omega. Hunter's eyes drifted to the ladder leading to where Omega had slept, her own little cocoon of light and warmth. Even now, he half expected her to clamber down the ladder, eagerly awaiting their next adventure.

To them, the Havok Marauder was more than just a ship. She was home.

"Tech," Hunter spoke, forcing himself to abandon the warm memories.

Slowly, reluctantly, Tech turned around, and walked down the ramp, glancing over his shoulder only once more. With a deep breath, Hunter followed, heart still heavy.

A few meters away, Wrecker noticed the group exiting the ship, and picked up Gonky, who had been wandering around a few feet away, hoisting him onto his shoulder.

"What's the plan, Hunter?" Wrecker asked, running to catch up with them. Slowly, his exited grin faded as he picked up on the heavy atmosphere. "Where are we going?" he asked anxiously, glancing back at the Havok Marauder, and then back to the group.

"We can't defend the ship," Hunter said, not bearing to look at Wrecker as he stared at him in shock, "and I picked up on a piece of tech running somewhere in the valley, so we're going to check it out. We think it might be the rebels."

"And abandon the Marauder?" Wrecker asked disbelievingly.

"It's our only choice."

Without warning, Wrecker jogged back into the ship, and Hunter wondered if he would refuse to leave. It wasn't abnormal for one of them to completely disobey his orders, but Hunter was sure he would've understood their situation. Then, Wrecker emerged from the ship again, Gonky still tucked under one arm, and Lula hugged tight to his chest.

"Couldn't forget," he grunted, gaze lowered.

Hunter nodded, and took point as the squad trudged, beaten and exhausted, through the forest.

A/N: Writing this, I realized how attached I am to this ship. I got really into it. Almost cried while writing this. Does that mean I will stop? No, no it doesn't. :')

Also, I have some plans based on one of the scenes I described in the chapter. Would ya'll be interested in that? I'd probably change my story "Acceptance" into a series of short stories, one for each of the Batchers. Tell me what you think in the comments!

Anyways, as always, thanks for the support!