Chapter 7 - Pantora

Author's Note: I know, I know, the timing of this kinda breaks Canon because Corellia clearly happened literally right after Pantora, but that kinda slipped my mind, and not everything's gonna be exactly the same, anyway. :P

~ Rivana Rita

He feels surprisingly more rested than he has in a long time when he finally starts waking up, well, aside from being sore in a ridiculous number of places. Crosshair pushes himself up and shoves Wrecker off him the moment he realizes where he is. Echo's fallen asleep on Wrecker in a position that could not possibly be comfortable.

Tech is already waking, and instantly pulls his goggles back on. He only takes them off when he's sleeping, and that's only on occasion.

Wrecker rolls over, grumbling as Echo shifts beneath them and pushes himself up.

"I have no sympathy if you're sore for hours," Crosshair tells him and takes off to the 'fresher before someone else can get up. Plus, it's the most convenient way to avoid the awkward moment of when everyone realizes they did, in fact, spend the entire night snuggling together.

Not as though anything is wrong with it, per se. It's just that they've always been trained as soldiers. They have always been told not to act on emotions, even for each other. They never had. Never had a reason to.

The regs do it, and that is... really what made them start distancing themselves from emotions. Not that they don't care. They do. It's just... different, because they've always had each other. They don't pettily bully people out of misplaced jealousy. Though Clone Force 99 has always had one thing the regs entirely lack that made them as good as they are: unity.

Rex had gone after Echo, had followed him to Skako Minor merely out of desperation. It's... not always bad.

"Oh, I don't blame you. I would've left him for dead, too."

On hindsight, he probably deserved it when Rex hit him for that. Seeing how Rex was talking to Hunter – it made him angry. He lashed out. Besides, it was high time that someone mentioned how it could've been a trap. They all could have died there, but instead, they got Echo.

Sometimes, Crosshair still finds it hard to look him in the eye when he remembers that.

They've chosen a different life for themselves, one nothing like what they grew up knowing. It's... different. Just different. Though he is grateful to not be on Kamino anymore.

They used to call him hot-tempered, there. Maybe he was, a little. If jumping to his brothers' defense every time the regs started bullying them counts. It's not as if anyone not part of them would understand it, could understand how they had to stick together, covering each other, even on Kamino, when they were supposed to be safe, their entire lives, or what it would mean to stay on constant high alert, never knowing when and how someone else would...

Anything.

So yes, not being on Kamino anymore is relieving. The only part that makes it not... good is that Hunter's not here.

Once Crosshair would've been right beside him the entire time, lashing out at anyone who questioned his brother.

It still hurts. He doesn't think the pain will ever go away.

In a quarter hour, they've gathered in the back of the Marauder. It's obvious enough now that it's finally time for the conversation everyone has been avoiding since Kamino. Except, of course, even now that they're here, no one wants to start talking.

"We will need an official leader," Tech says at last.

Everyone immediately looks at Echo, who does not look happy.

"I joined later. And I've never been a leader before."

"It is the most logical option," Tech replies, "At least in regard to our plans. Strategically, the Empire could anticipate your moves the least. And you were once an ARC trooper, which means you were higher ranking than any of us."

Echo sighs, unable to argue the logic. That's usually true about what Tech says, unless he comes up with one of his most outlandish suggestions that Hunter throws out the window before – "Alright," he agrees reluctantly, "But only for now."

They'll be right here to help him all the way through if he needs them, and he will. Crosshair knows that. He's not sure how to say it though.

"We need to start training Omega," Echo says, sitting down in his usual chair in the room.

"I'm ready," she tells him with conviction. She means it, too. She's stubborn. That's not a bad thing – it just means she fits in with them even better. It also means that they have no idea how to take care of her. Omega is... new here, even so. And she's not a soldier. She doesn't know how to live like they do, and it feels like none of them know how to talk to her, either. Wrecker doesn't count.

"Good," Echo replies.

But aside from the obvious part of training her, there are countless other questions. "What after?" Crosshair inquires finally because he thinks that's something they all need to figure out. If they didn't have Omega here to take care of, he might've mentioned going back for Hunter himself. But they can't take her into danger, and they can't risk their own lives that far, either. It would be a death trap, going blind into something far worse than when they rescued Echo. It's out of the question, no matter how badly he wants it.

"Well," Echo says slowly, "Omega asked about going back for Hunter."

"That is not realistic," Tech interjects immediately, voice rising a few notches. He's hurt. Angry, even if he does well at hiding it. "He would not willingly come with us, even if we could somehow locate him, and get through the Imperial defenses. And that is not to mention the complications of finding a safe location to remove his inhibitor chip."

His arm throbs even at the memory. For all that Crosshair wants to believe this wasn't Hunter's fault – and really, he is starting to, now that he has time to process it, because so much of what was happening made no sense – they can't be entirely certain.

"If the Empire is keeping him against his will, we can't let that continue," Echo objects, "You went in blind when you rescued me."

They gave Echo a home. Of course, of everyone, he's the most irrational, the one who wants to go back the most. "You're letting your personal feelings get in the way," Crosshair tells him bluntly, a bit cruelly, yes, but it needs to be said. (Or maybe it's just that he's afraid of seeing Hunter again, afraid of being hurt again, of seeing his brothers dying at Hunter's hand.)

Echo huffs out a sigh. "You're right," he concedes.

"Well... what would he have had us do?" Wrecker asks finally. It's strange to see him so quiet. But they've always had to look out for each other, and now without Hunter to do it, they'll have to rely solely on each other. It's... strange. It's wrong. Leader or no, Echo has always been run by passion, emotion. And without Hunter's calm nature to even that out, to choose rationality over everything else, they will have... problems. Struggles. Everyone knows it. No one says it.

"Well –" Tech starts.

"He would have had us leave," Crosshair answers, because he knows that with certainty, "Hunter was a good leader." A good brother. And he would never have asked them to risk their lives, to throw them away, just for him.

It was always an understanding during the war that they came back for each other, but this is different. They aren't working for the Republic anymore. They don't have unlimited supplies or support or anything. It's just them. Them against the galaxy, except Rex and a small handful of others.

Staying alive has to be their first objective now. Protecting each other is second, and now, that includes Omega.

Hunter would have wanted that.

Wrecker's shoulders slump a bit.

"The chances of us encountering him again is high," Tech reminds, "I suspect the Empire will locate us before we locate him."

He has a point, too. Looking will attract attention they don't need.

And... if Crosshair is being honest, he's certain Hunter in this place would've found a way to work it out. He would have found a way to come back for his brothers, because he's their leader, and if someone did – somehow – get left behind, Hunter would have... worked it out. But he's not here now.

The guilt won't go away, though.

There's a sudden, strange, dull throbbing in his head again, that he ignores. It's been going off and on for a while, but it's not serious.

It hurts even if Crosshair is certain they're making the right choice. In that place, he wouldn't want his brothers to risk themselves for him, either. They love each other. They look out for each other. They would never put each other in danger unnecessarily, and going up against the Empire would do exactly that. They'd be betting too heavily on assumption and uncertainty, and that... is not something they can afford.

Not for anyone.

But what if... this isn't the right choice?

**w**

Often, when Omega wakes, she expects to still be in her small corner of the familiar, dark lab. Sometimes, it takes a few moments to remember where the gold color on the walls came from and the bright lights on the ceiling. Wrecker made this little space for her. He made something for her. Wrecker. Her brother.

The little brother that was still the biggest even when they were born, and that was constantly hungry and kept trying to steal his brothers' food – Crosshair would scream at him, Hunter would glare at him harder than a baby should be able to, and Tech would just stare.

Wrecker, who grew so much faster than the others that it would hurt him sometimes, and he would cry for hours.

Wrecker, who was impossibly strong even as a baby. He grabbed her hand one time, and she couldn't make him let go. That hurt.

But that was years ago, and they don't remember Omega anymore. It... hurts sometimes, knowing that they have no idea, and that they never will, but it doesn't matter, either.

Omega spent years knowing they wouldn't ever remember her, and that they she would have to... reform bonds with them. It's early still, but she climbs down from her room. Echo is the only one up, and he's sitting at one of the computers. For a moment, she thinks he's working, but he's not. He's just... staring?

Omega frowns, moving closer, holding her small doll that she was planning to repaint. She knows how to be quiet, and she is now. He looks upset.

Instincts kick in instantly, telling her to reach out to him, no matter if he doesn't really know her, so she climbs into the chair next to him. "Are you okay?" Omega queries quietly.

He twitches, slightly startled, turning to look at her. "Yeah. I just dream sometimes."

"Oh." She doesn't know how to help with that. Omega dreams of her brothers sometimes, but never – at least rarely – anything that bothers her.

"I know they aren't real," Echo tells her, "But sometimes it's... hard to remember that." He straightens a bit, as if forcing himself back to present from whatever memories are haunting him.

"I understand," she offers, slightly shyly. Echo's her brother by choice. It's... different with him, because she never knew him as anything other than a soldier, and when he was older. She will only ever see him as older than her. "When I was young –" She thinks of telling him, openly admitting that she was there when the others were born, that she held them when they were little, and it suddenly makes her skin crawl.

"I lost some people, too," Omega says instead, "I don't like being alone."

She's always been alone down there, except when Nala Se was there and the droids that took care of her. It was thrilling when her brothers finally came, when she was able to... be close with someone for the first time. Lost doesn't feel like the right term of when they were taken out.

They were there for close to two years. Omega doesn't remember the exact date they were taken. Her memories of that time – mercifully – are quite hazed over. All she remembers is crying for weeks after they left. She was too little to understand they had to go, no matter how many times Nala Se told her that.

Lost doesn't feel like quite the right term to describe how it felt when they were taken from her. She remembers that moment vividly, remembers Hunter's wide, terrified eyes, Tech crying her name, Wrecker sobbing, and Crosshair screaming.

And then, the door hissed shut and they were gone, leaving the lab as empty as her heart.

"Well," Echo says, "The past is the past. The future is what matters."

It often doesn't feel like it, but she knows it's true anyway.

But either way, it's true that there's nothing she can do to change what's already happened. The most she can do is sit here, which she does.

**w**

The next mission they go on is easy. It goes without a hitch, actually, minus the part where Tech decided hitching a ride on a half-dead speeder was a good idea. To be fair, Omega wasn't there, and Crosshair was probably exaggerating because he was annoyed. He hit his head on something – minor, she thinks, though he's still grumpy about it.

The moment they get back, he disappeared to the darkest corner of Cid's parlor. Omega would follow him right off, but Wrecker takes her outside instead to collect the Mantell Mix they found after rescuing Muchi.

"We should make this a tradition," Wrecker says, stuffing his mouth.

Omega giggles. "It is. Should we ask the others to join?" Somehow, she can't imagine waving this in Tech's face and asking if he cares to join. Or Echo's for that matter.

Wrecker grins deviously. "Ask Crosshair."

Omega grins back. Most likely, he'll brush them off, but still.

Omega stops short when she sees him rubbing his head, much the same way Hunter was. He was injured, but he acted like it was minor, and maybe it's just... seeing it that sets her on edge. What if... No. That shouldn't be possible.

Years ago, Omega used to follow him when he went off to be alone. She would spend... a long time trying to coax him back. He usually listened. Sometimes, he was just, well, stubborn. Not unlike he is now. It reminds her a bit of... herself.

"Hey, Crosshair," Wrecker says cheerfully, sitting down beside him.

Crosshair immediately glares in response. He's obviously not feeling very good. Omega doesn't think he usually this snappy to his brothers. He would get like that when he was little sometimes, short and hot-tempered, because he was in pain. Wrecker never seemed to fully understand it, because he was too little to read situations properly, or really at all. Crosshair actually bit him for it one time. More than once, actually. He had a habit of biting people. It was very annoying. He even bit Omega once.

Hunter just glared at them with a gaze far fiercer than any child should have, which about ended their squabbles. Tech just stared. He usually just stared, unless he was playing with someone or attempting to wreck all of Nala Se's lab equipment.

Omega squeezes in between them. "Is it the lights?" she asks, slightly shyly.

"What?"

"The lights," she repeats slowly, "Do they hurt your eyes? It's dark over here."

Crosshair turns to look at her. "Perceptive." It's not entirely an admission. It also is.

Wrecker reaches over her head to pat his shoulder. "Want some?" he asks, shoving a handful of Mantell Mix in Crosshair's direction.

He eyes it like he's partly convinced it's poisonous.

Omega gives him her best 'please' expression. Crosshair huffs but obliges, and she suppresses a squeal. Mission accomplished.

They stay there together for a while, but she still can't shake the worry gnawing at her. He seems better now that he's distracted – understandably – but... but now that she started wondering, she can't stop worrying about it. Their chips shouldn't activate if they didn't in the beginning, but what if they do?

Then what?

Though Omega isn't sure what to do about them, period. Tech had mentioned something about building a device to ensure their inhibitor chips are inactive. Maybe... she should talk to him about it. She doesn't really know what else to do.

And she can't help being worried.

**w**

She hasn't interacted very much with Tech before. He's... strange, and even if she's lived in the same ship as him for two weeks now, she's still nervous to initiate a conversation with him.

He's not... cheerful, exactly, but unnervingly calm and unemotional. It's exactly like it was when he was little. And Omega often feels way over her head when she tries interacting with him, even if he has never been anything but kind to her.

"Tech?" she queries shyly, entering the cockpit where he was sitting alone. The others are sleeping right now. He's the only one awake, and it's been a little bit since they were on a mission, at least one that actually got messy. Technically, Wrecker just went to go lay down, grumbling about yet another headache. And he hasn't taken a head-hit in a long while by now. And he cut his explosive lesson short for that. It must be serious. Not like Omega is entirely following everything he's saying, because they don't have anything for them to practice on.

Echo is teaching her about their hand signals and plans and anything else that's particularly important. Crosshair, of course, has been teaching her with her bow. It really is cool. Crosshair training her, even more so. It's somehow the strangest to see him... grown up. She saw it from afar, but it was still so easy to remember him as a child. That's not entirely who he is anymore, though. He's already saved her once.

"Hm?" Tech asks, not looking up from whatever he's doing on his datapad.

Most of her interactions with him, aside from on missions, have comprised solely of him trying to teach her hand-to-hand combat – which she's still struggling with learning, because she's so small and not very strong, but everyone insists it's the moves that count. It doesn't feel like it, but they would know – and Tech rambling about all the controls on the Marauder. Omega knows a lot about machines already, so there's not much she needs to learn there yet.

"I... I'm just worried," she admits, "About Wrecker and Crosshair."

"Ah." Tech finally turns to look at her, adjusting his goggles. "I would not be too concerned about Wrecker. He has suffered repeated head injuries in battle, rendering his prefrontal cortex approximately useless. It is highly unlikely it will ever recover from the damage, or that he will progress past the stage of adolescence."

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. That... hurts, for some reason. Yes, Omega is... selfishly glad that one of her brothers ages in a way more similar to herself. They lost eight years of her life, but to her, it feels like she's lost well over a decade of theirs. And she's glad that one of her brothers will never really be older than her. What's wrong with her? "Wrecker's stuck as a nine-year-old forever?" she squeaks finally.

"Technically, yes," Tech replies, unphased.

"That's..." Omega trails off. She doesn't know what to say to it, actually. But that's not why she came here. She doesn't know how to go about explaining, though. Considering how the inhibitor chips work, it is theoretically possible for one to activate unintentionally if it's deteriorating. "I... think you said you were making a device to test the functionality of inhibitor chips?"

"I have run into some difficulties, but it is progressing."

Progressing is far better than nothing, and Omega will have to take it for what it is. "What about Crosshair?"

"What about him?" Tech asks.

"It's just – it's both him and Wrecker," Omega blurts out in a rush, "It's always the same side. That's where the inhibitor chip is, and the same thing was happening to Hunter back on Kamino when I saw him."

For a moment, her brother is quiet. "They haven't activated all this time," he points out finally, "I find it highly unlikely that would change. And we will be able to determine soon."

She hopes so. Somehow, the deep running, unsettled feeling doesn't fade. She can't stop thinking something is about to go wrong.

**w**

It's been fifteen days since the Empire, since Order 66, since Kamino, and since everything began. It feels like a lifetime ago.

No one mentions Hunter, or at least rarely, though his absence is an ache everyone feels. They don't need to talk about it. Hunter would know how to do this. Yes, Crosshair is perfectly capable of showing Omega how to shoot an energy bow.

It's ridiculous how much it feels like they were all relying on Hunter.

Or maybe it's just that... No one has the same soft, gentleness that he did. Even if Hunter was here, he wouldn't be showing her to do this. But still, Crosshair remembers way back when he was learning this, but he was younger than Omega then.

He'd struggled, too. But his brothers had been there for him. Hunter had been there for him.

And when it felt like he couldn't make it, because it wouldn't matter how good his eyesight was if he couldn't keep his hands steady, Hunter had been the one to drag him down from whatever little corner he took off to and tell him to try again. He didn't have to. It's not like Crosshair was ever particularly nice to him. But he did, and that's why...

Hunter is why they all are who they are.

Because for Crosshair, for all the clones, failure is unacceptable. It's – unthinkable, really. They can't fail. That would make them useless.

But Omega is so much more than that. She's... a child. She's one of them, but at the same time... she's not. She deserves more.

More than what they can give her.

Crosshair's training was harsh, as it was for all of them. It's the only way he knows. He learned, when he was young, to stay motionless for hours. He doesn't have a problem with it. That's how he survived. Omega... shouldn't have to do that.

But how can he give her something he doesn't have?

How can they be people for her that they aren't?

"Keep your arms steady," he tells her anyway, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Her face screws up in concentration, and she fires again. It actually hits this time, and she squeals. "Got it!"

Her excitement is... it's cute, really. Everything about Omega is. She's too soft, too kind for them. She isn't... hardened, and Omega is the first person that Crosshair has ever seen like this. He wishes they could keep her this way, that they actually had a way to protect her, but they can't. Echo is right that they have to fight the Empire, even if they don't confront it head-on. They don't have a choice except to keep fighting for what's right.

It's just that – somehow – sacrificing this child's innocence feels so wrong.

How old is she? None of them ever asked her, but she's... young. And there's something about the way she looks at him that reminds him of Cut and Suu and their family. Because, yes, Crosshair and his brothers care for each other, more than anything could ever say – they were... five in one, at least they were a long time ago before the Empire ripped them apart – but something about Omega makes it feel... real.

With his brothers, it was always about the mission, first. They grew together, were trained together, and for the most part, no one blinks if another is hurt. It happens. It's a part of their life. It's not that it doesn't bother them – it's just that... she's young. She's not a soldier. She can't defend herself the way they can.

And yes, they will protect each other, but Omega can't do that. She isn't ready for that. She shouldn't have to be.

But Omega cares for them. She... loves them. That's what the natborns call it. Crosshair never really knew what that meant until they met her. They way she looks at him – at all of them – with such a blind adoration is... touching.

And he wants to keep that. He would do anything to keep that. To keep... her. But that's selfish, isn't it?

"Good," Crosshair tells her, "Try again."

"But I've already hit the target three times," she protests, deflating.

"Of twelve," Crosshair replies flatly, "Go again." It's not entirely fair, at least it doesn't feel like it is. She's eager to learn, but she doesn't have the same... everything they did. In a real training facility, she would have to do better than that. It's what would be ideal.

She turns around with a groan, but fires again. And misses entirely. "I was doing better until those two showed up," she grumbles, frustrated. Meaning the only two people who seem interested in Cid's parlor and have been wildly betting on Omega's success since they arrived. Truthfully, Crosshair has hardly heard a word they've been saying. He's good at ignoring people.

What did Hunter tell him when this happened to Crosshair years ago?

"There's far more distractions on the battlefield," Crosshair tells her flatly, "Ignore them." It's hard to remember that Omega isn't enhanced like he is. Crosshair had to learn that a long time ago. If he was distracted by his senses, he'd never have made it to where he is. Plus, he grew up with Tech. And Wrecker.

He glances back, eyes finding Echo. He's the one who's really good at that – minus Hunter, of course. Echo had to learn to sort through massive amounts of data at once without getting sidetracked.

"It comes with practice," Echo supplies, "Soldiers need to be consistent."

"How do you do it?" Omega asks, a bit sullenly, "Tune out distractions?"

He leans a bit closer, talking just quiet enough for only her to hear. "I grew up with Tech."

Echo, the only other close enough to hear, scoffs, and Omega outright laughs.

"Playtime's over. We need to talk," Cid declares, walking in. She shoos the other people out of the room, approaching the Batch. "I assume you boys know what a tactical droid is?"

"Is this a serious question?" Crosshair asks, disbelievingly. They're the ones who fought in the war.

"They were the ope-" Cid begins anyway, only to be interrupted.

"The operational brains of the Separatist military," Tech cuts in, shoving past the others to the front.

"Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba," Cid snaps, waving her clawed hands at him. "This is my briefing, Goggles." She stalks to the holotable and throws Wrecker off, who releases a disgruntled yelp. She doesn't even grant him a response, instead pulling up a hologram of a tactical droid. "Tactical droid intel has tremendous value, which is why you're gonna break into this decommissioning facility on Corellia and retrieve one before they're all destroyed."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Omega offers.

He wishes she'd say that after they get there. It's no harder than what they've done in the war – far, far simpler, almost insultingly so, but they... don't have Hunter here to help out, or to carry out the plan. And it's their first, real mission. So, yeah. Anything could go wrong.

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