A/N: Okay, so... sorry for the late post, but I do have an explanation! This week was super busy for me, with finals coming up and everything, but I still managed to set aside enough time to write and edit this chapter. But then, the usual happened, and it got somewhat out of control. Okay, very out of control. I was going to finish off this chapter with a cliffhanger, but even I decided that would be too cruel. So, I changed where I was going to finish. And then I had a chapter that was three times the length of my average chapter, and while I don't care that much about chapter length, that was a little too much for me. So, I split it into two chapters. Then, I had two chapters that I wanted to release at the same time, to spare your sanity, but only one day to edit them both.

ANYWays, they're done now! I really hope you enjoy the double post, because it's about to get ugly. ;)

(no, seriously. There's a reason I didn't want to leave you with nothing after this chapter)

Throughout the ship, sirens wailed.

Admiral Rheemal Correk stood on the bridge of her splintering ship, watching the fighters streaking back and forth across the transparisteel viewport. Around her rose the cacophony of voices of the panicked communications and control officers as they struggled to keep up with what they all knew was a losing battle. Their planetside forces had been demolished, and with the sudden arrival of the rebel fleet, they were quickly losing fighters.

Over the communications came desperate calls and relays of information from the factory and the quarry, as well as from the battle just on the other side of the viewport. A battle she had lost. The sector army had declined her request for reinforcements, claiming that all assets of value had already been destroyed, and any forces they sent would be too late.

It was an insult. A slap to the face. Like they were spitting on her grave.

How had it all gone wrong so quickly? She had had them in her grasp! Those rebels, that disorganized fodder, had destroyed everything. Her factory, her quarry, her future. There would be no coming back from this. She would be relegated to the worst corners of the galaxy if she was even allowed to stay in the ranks. If she was allowed to keep breathing.

"Admiral!"

Without dragging her steely gaze away from the transparisteel, she acknowledged the officer with a simple incline of her chin.

"We just lost the tractor beams."

This time even Correk could not keep the shock from her usually guarded face. "What?"

"We just—"

"I heard what you said the first time," she snapped, whirling around on her heels to face the incompetent officer. "I want to know why."

The young man shrank under her burning stare. "Unknown, ma'am, but we have engaged multiple hostiles in the detention level."

Correk didn't have time to reply before the first blast struck the cruiser, sending a faint tremor all the way to where she and the officer stood on the bridge. Immediately, she knew that this was the end. Their forces were so depleted that they would never be able to fend off the rebel fleet. At least not for long. The only option was to either surrender or evacuate.

She already knew which she would choose.

"Order an evacuation, effective immediately," she said, a tight set to her jaw. As the officer ran back to his station to pass on the order, Correk turned back to the view.

As she stood there, watching her own fighters fall one by one while her world fell to pieces around her, she realized something. She had lost everything. All that she had worked for, years of clawing, wrestling, manipulating her way into the highest ranks of the Empire, reduced to ashes on the planet below in a matter of hours.

A tie-fighter went spinning out of control and into the cruiser, but Correk didn't even blink. Burning hatred drowned out the composed, methodical thoughts she so prided herself in as she thought again of the rebels that had caused the destruction of her future. It didn't matter anymore how they had managed to slip out of her grasp over and over again. None of it mattered. But if they had taken her down, then she wouldn't hesitate to take them with her.

Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech sprinted down the long corridor of the detention block, numbered cells flashing past them as they ran while sirens continued to blare across the ship. Over the intercom, a fearful voice announced the imminent departure of the final batch of escape pods.

They were running out of time.

Hunter forced down the dull throbbing that was beginning in his temples – now really wasn't the time to get distracted by a headache – and followed Tech until they came to a three-pronged fork in the corridor.

"This way," Tech said without hesitation, and ran down the middle hallway.

Just a little while longer, Omega.

Hunter had to admit to himself, he was terrified of what he might find in that cell. There was no telling what the Empire had done to Omega in order to get her to divulge a squad secret, and Hunter knew it. Remembering what the Empire had done to Crosshair… Hunter pushed the thought away. Right now, none of it mattered. It would be over soon, and then they would address all of it once they got to safety.

Ahead of Hunter and Crosshair, Tech skidded to a stop, turning to face one of the many, identical cell doors.

"This is her cell," Tech announced, and immediately set to work hacking into the control panel.

Hunter felt his chest tighten. They were so close. Even though Tech finished almost as quickly as he started, it felt like an eternity.

"Done!"

The door hissed open. Only, the cell was empty.

Stumbling down the brief set of stairs which led down into the abandoned cell, Hunter's breathing picked up.

"Omega?" He called desperately, but even as he twisted around, thinking she might have tried to hide in the corners, Omega was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" Crosshair demanded, turning on Tech.

"I— I am not certain," Tech stammered under Crosshair's ferocious glare. "The log stated that this was her holding cell!"

"Well obviously you were wrong!"

Hunter's head was spinning. Panic threatened to rush over him like a rogue wave, not for himself, but for Omega. Had Ezra been wrong? What if she had been transferred without their knowledge? What if the Empire had decided they were done with her? No, that would be too kind a fate for the Empire to bestow upon her. Tech and Crosshair's sickening descriptions of Dr. Hemlock's labs flashed through his mind's eye.

Behind him, Crosshair and Tech were now on the brink of a full-blown fight, but Hunter hardly noticed, the same mantra repeating over and over in his head, again and again.

I failed her. It's my fault. I failed her.

Then, a sound broke through his raging thoughts. The low, hissing static of the shipwide intercoms.

"Clone Force 99. I know you're out there, and I know you're listening."

Outside of the doorway, the argument stopped short.

"I am Admiral Rheemal Correk, overseer of Project Tremor. Your actions have resulted in the termination of said project, as well as the termination of my future career. You have repeatedly evaded Imperial jurisdiction and shall therefore face the consequences.

"I expect you to report to the bridge immediately, to receive your retribution."

"When Mustafar freezes over, chakaar," Crosshair spat, glaring daggers at the invisible woman.

"Before you make any… hasty decisions, please consider. I have something that you want."

Hunter froze.

"No! You have to get out of here!" A second voice cried urgently, and Hunter felt his blood run cold as he recognized it. It would have been impossible not to. "The cruiser—"

A meaty thwack, and a stifled cry of pain.

Hunter flinched, squeezing his eyes shut at the image of Omega being struck.

"Sergeant Hunter– that is your name, isn't it? – I suggest you choose your next step very carefully. Your accomplice's life is depending on it." The admiral practically spat out the word "accomplice," before her words turned confident and composed once more.

"I expect you on the bridge in ten minutes. Be here, or she dies."

When the intercom switched off, the air was tense and quiet, only perpetrated by the low rumbling of the deteriorating ship and the incessant wailing of the alarms.

Hunter was still reeling. Omega was alive. She was being held hostage by the insane admiral. The cruiser was going down. They had ten minutes. Omega was alive.

Suddenly, a steely determination settled into his chest. Omega was alive. If there was still any chance of saving her, then by the Force, he was going to take it. Whatever it took.

Bending down, he grabbed his blaster off the cold, metal floor– he must have dropped it when he entered – and turned to face the cell door. Crosshair and Tech, who were still standing out in the hallway, watched him with uncertain gazes. They were waiting for him to make the next decision.

But as Hunter climbed back up the stairs, his comm beeped.

"Hunter, do you copy?"

Ezra.

Putting his fingers to his helmet to switch on communications, Hunter replied hoarsely, "yeah, kid. We read you."

"I needed to tell you that Hera's on her way. She'll be ready to get us out of here as soon as she's here." Then came the inevitable question. "Did you find Omega?"

"We found her cell, but she had already been relocated," Tech interjected. "The admiral is now holding her hostage in the bridge and expects us there in under ten minutes now."

"What!?"

"You two need get out of here," Hunter said firmly, although he had a feeling both of their reactions would be the same as before, "before this ship goes down."

Sabine confirmed Hunter's hunch. "Not without you and Omega. I'll get Hera to send in the others for backup. We're on our way!"

Actually, Hunter was starting to wonder whether, just maybe, these two were worse than Omega. At least Omega had had some level of self-preservation in her younger years and had usually tried to do as she was told. Usually.

Crosshair tilted his head when he spoke to Hunter. "So we're doing exactly what that witch wants?"

"We can't risk her hurting Omega, and I have no doubt that she would," Hunter replied, shaking his head.

"I agree with Hunter's sentiment," Tech added, earning him a scowl from Crosshair. "The admiral is currently in an unreasonable state. Any unexpected actions would only complicate things further."

Crosshair let out an irritated huff but didn't argue any further.

"Let's not waste any more time," Hunter suggested, turning back the way they came. The admiral was in for a surprise if she thought she could get between the Bad Batch and their girl.

Making the way through the Star Destroyer, Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech hardly noticed how empty the cruiser was. The hallways echoed eerily with the continuing alarms, and the flickering lights and sparking wires gave the entire scene an unnerving appearance. If Hunter hadn't known better, he might have thought they were alone.

With each step closer to the bridge, Hunter's resolve only strengthened. Omega had been willing to sacrifice her life to make a major strike against the Empire when she gave that file to Hera and the rebels. If it weren't for her, the facility and the quarry on the planet below would still be up and running. Hunter couldn't have been prouder.

But now, that mission was over. His loyalty was to his family, and he refused to lose any of them. Not again. Not when they were so close.

Hunter almost bumped into Tech when he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hallway. His brother's voice sounded foreign on his lips when he spoke. It sounded dangerous.

"We are here."

Crosshair took a purposeful step forward, eyes locked unblinkingly on the doors of the lift to the bridge. Despite his impassive expression, his usually icy gaze burned with a rage hotter than the suns of Tatooine.

Hunter put out an arm.

"Cross. Let me go first."

When Crosshair didn't react, Hunter continued in a firm voice, "we don't know what's waiting there for us. You and Tech will be my backup."

Another ominous rumble resonated through the deck into the silence before Crosshair finally relented, jerking back sharply, and stalking into position behind Hunter like a caged predator.

"Yes, sir," he snarled.

Hunter pushed the animosity in Crosshair's voice aside; it wasn't truly directed at him anyways. They all needed a way to vent, and cutting words were Crosshair's.

The doors to the lift opened without a problem, and Hunter stepped inside. As the doors hissed shut behind them, Hunter took a deep breath, gripping his blaster a little tighter. Whatever they faced when they arrived, he knew he had to keep a level head. As Tech had said, this woman was dangerous, like a wounded animal. He would have to tread carefully if they were to make it out alive.

Hunter had never been the best with words. He – and his entire squad up until Echo had joined – all preferred more… physical solutions. Tech theorized that it was due to their "programming" that most of them liked to stick to the "shoot first, ask questions later" philosophy.

Now, however, that wasn't an option, Echo wasn't here to do the negotiating, and his squad – fierfek, Omega's very life – wasdepending on his next move.

The lift slowed to a halt, and Hunter felt his mind slip into the soldier's mentality, steady and focused. Whatever came next, he refused to let any harm come to Omega.

With a cheerful ding, the doors opened.

The bridge itself was not unlike the bridges of the venator-class cruisers that had operated during the Clone Wars. A wide, transparisteel viewport dominated the room, giving them a view of the battle raging outside and the planet Delthqar beyond that, slowly growing larger and larger as it pulled the ship into its atmosphere.

Hunter didn't even see it. Because there, right in the middle of the room, eyes wide with alarm, was Omega. Behind her, a woman with a narrow face and cold, blue eyes, held a blaster firmly in her back. As Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair cautiously stepped out of the lift, a pitiless smile split her features.

As soon as she saw them, Omega began to struggle in Correk's grip. "No!"

"So glad you decided to join us," she said, and Hunter was struck by the stark contrast of her warm voice to her cruel expression. Omega stopped struggling with a gasp as Correk jabbed the blaster into her back.

Hunter tensed, mere moments away from snapping. Behind him, he was sure Tech and Crosshair had done the same.

"Protective, are we? Good."

He ignored the jab, instead locking eyes with Omega. And was surprised at what he saw. Rather than an expression of fear, her face was filled with regret and… sadness? At that, Hunter remembered her earlier pleas.

"You have to get out of here!"

But she had to know that they would never leave her. They couldn't leave. Whatever it was the admiral wanted, they would give it to her.

"What do you want from us? Rebel plans? Locations? People?" Hunter asked Correk, tired of her games. "Because I can tell you, we don't know anything worth your time."

Frankly, Hunter was telling the truth. Until they had met with the Ghost crew, they hadn't been involved in any rebel activity, at least not for a very long time. They didn't have any information that would be of any use to them.

Then, Correk chuckled.

"There isn't anything you could possibly give me that I want. Not anymore."

Hunter stared.

The admiral continued, a wild look slowly creeping onto her face. "You took everything from me. You slipped from my grasp time after time. I was so close to finally doing something that would get me noticed, would actually mean something, and you—"

Correk laughed humorlessly before her elegant features twisted into a snarl. "You ruined me."

Another tremor shook the deck, this one stronger, and Hunter picked up a distant groaning from the ship. They were almost out of time. The cruiser was going to pieces, being pulled into the atmosphere, and they would go down with it if they didn't get out of here soon.

"This ship is about to go down, and it'll take you and all of us along with it," Hunter said, struggling to keep the anger and fear out of his voice. "Why don't we all just—"

Before Hunter could take a step forward, Correk jabbed the blaster deeper into Omega's back as Omega stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut. "Stay back!" she snapped, and Hunter had no choice but to back away slowly.

"You think that's not the point?"

As the words left Correk's mouth, Hunter's stomach sank. She was trying to get them all killed.

"You took everything from me," she said again. "Now I'm just returning the favor."

For Hunter, time seemed to stop. He raised his blaster. Too slow. The sound and smell of discharged blasters filled the air, and the admiral collapsed. Omega's eyes met his, wide with shock and fear.

Before she fell to the ground.

"OMEGA!"

A scream left his mouth, but he didn't hear it. Everything else had faded into the background, only he and his girl remained. In an instant, he was by her side, cradling her body in his arms, stormtrooper helmet heedlessly discarded. If he focused, he could just pick up the beating of her heart, becoming harder and harder to pick out from among the input around them. His hands hovered over the seared, smoking wound in her chest, and he could keep the desperation out of his voice no longer.

"Someone get a medkit!" He cried, and Tech, who had been standing frozen next to Crosshair, broke out of his shock and sprinted off to find an emergency kit. Why, oh why hadn't they thought to bring one with them?!

"Hunter—"

Omega's strained voice, cut off by a feeble cough, caused Hunter's chest to wrench painfully. Bending closer, Hunter cupper the side of her face with his hand, his words coming out in a rush,

"Hang in there, just a little bit longer. Tech's—" his voice stuck in his throat as he battled the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Hunter forcefully pushed them back down. Now wasn't the time for it. He had to stay strong.

A shudder wracked Omega's body, and she said insistently, "you have to go. The cruiser—"

But Hunter was already shaking his head. No. He refused to even consider—

"If you don't, you'll die too," Omega continued through labored breaths.

"No one is going to die," Crosshair hissed as he dropped to one knee on Omega's other side, his resolute expression just barely masking the sheer terror buried deep in his gaze.

Omega reached out a shaking hand, and Crosshair took it tightly in his own. A sorrowful smile touched her lips. "It's alright, Crosshair. It's okay—"

Another fit of coughs wracked Omega's body, and Hunter listened helplessly as her heartbeat slowly grew weaker and weaker. Tech's footsteps pounded back up the walkway before his youngest brother fell to his knees at Crosshair's side, medkit in hand.

"Omega, everything is going to be alright," he promised as he hastily unpacked the trauma kit. His voice shook.

Omega didn't respond, only turning her gentle gaze on Tech as he prepped the gauze and the bacta patches. Finally, it drifted to Hunter, and he forced himself to swallow the lump caught in his throat. Even now, after years of experiencing all the horrors the galaxy had to offer, her eyes were filled with such kindness and empathy.

Then, her pulse stopped, her eyelids drooped shut, and her hand went limp in Crosshair's.

"Tech—" Hunter's voice rose in panic. "Tech, her pulse it just— her pulse just stopped!"

Tech instantly dropped what he was doing and shoved Crosshair out of the way to feel for himself, though Hunter's senses rarely deceived him. When Tech's hand remained at Omega's jawline, Hunter knew they had been right. Tech opened his mouth as if to say something, only to close it again, staring blankly at the floor.

"No—" Crosshair swore violently, wrenching himself away from the scene and stumbling several steps backwards.

"Tech—Tech, do something," Hunter demanded, his voice trembling, but Tech remained motionless, silent. His silence said enough.

No…

Grief, heavy and painful, flooded his senses as the galaxy crumbled around him.

A/N: I have... much guilt. GO READ THE NEXT CHAPTER BEFORE I START CRYING.