Hunter's legs were shaking by the time he finally stopped running.
The last few minutes were a blur, and he couldn't remember much aside from a great deal of sprinting, shooting, and stabbing pain inside his skull.
He paused by the side of the road with the rest of the regs, heart hammering as his head swung rapidly from side to side. Wrecker was nearby, as was Tech, and there, just a few feet away, was Crosshair, standing with his rifle hanging from his grasp and his feet frozen to the ground.
Hunter let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding, the tension between his shoulder blades finally working itself free. He crossed the distance in a few strides, dropping his blaster to the ground carelessly and throwing his arms around Crosshair in a rare display of affection. His brother stiffened momentarily, before awkwardly returning the hug.
"Thought you were dead," Crosshair growled softly, voice hoarse and brittle.
Hunter's chest tightened, and he pulled the man closer to him until his armour began to creak from the strain.
"Nah. Just took a detour, is all."
He withdrew, giving Crosshair's shoulder a slap and grinning wildly beneath his helmet. His brother straightened but was literally taken off his feet seconds later when Wrecker bodily picked him up and squeezed him hard against his chest.
"Missed you, big bro," Wrecker boomed, sounding a little choked up. It wouldn't have surprised Hunter if there were tears running down his face. He had always been much better at conveying his emotions than the others.
"Indeed," added Tech, who patted Crosshair gingerly on the back once Wrecker had set him down again. "Our team dynamic was not the same without you."
Crosshair nodded mutely, and Hunter couldn't fail to notice the sniffling sounds emanating from beneath his helmet. Eventually, the man gave himself a shake and stood up a little straighter.
"Yeah, well, thanks for leaving me with the regs," he grumbled, though there was no spite to his words.
Hunter gave his brother's arm one final squeeze and stooped to pick up his blaster.
"Speaking of regs, I guess I'd better check in with the Captain. And the General. Let 'em know me made it back."
Crosshair made a vague noise of disgust in his throat.
"Don't bother. The Jedi won't care that you're alive."
Hunter frowned, that damned tightness beginning to form in the pit of his stomach once again. Something about Crosshair's tone instantly put him on edge.
"What do you mean? Skywalker seemed like a reasonable man to me. Did... something happen?"
Crosshair's fingers tightened around the stock of his rifle.
"Skywalker's gone."
"Gone?" asked Wrecker in confusion. "You mean dead?"
Crosshair shook his head slowly.
"Skywalker left. Krell's in command now."
Hunter's scowl deepened.
"Krell? Another Jedi? Never heard of him."
"I have," chimed in Tech, who was fidgeting with his data pad as though anxious. "He was on the Venator's manifesto. I took the liberty of briefly skimming through the files during our march."
Tech paused, shuffling his feet. There was no doubt about it. The man was worked up about something.
"Tech...?" prompted Hunter when his brother did not immediately offer up further information. His reluctance to share was a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with his findings.
"General Krell has a...reputation."
"A reputation? For what?"
Tech paused again, his eyes darting between all three of his brothers beneath his goggles.
"He is a decorated war hero. But he does have a tendency to incur heavy casualties during his missions."
"Heavy casualties?" echoed Wrecker. "How heavy are we talking."
"Heavy. Entire battalions."
Hunter's brows shot up, and a shudder ran down his spine.
"That can't be right. Maybe the tallies are out. Or maybe he just has a habit of getting sent in where the action's thickest."
Tech stared at Hunter, before cocking his head to one side.
"Perhaps. But even so, those figures are grossly inflated. And there's more."
"Go on."
"General Krell does not like clones."
Crosshair huffed an unamused laugh.
"I could have told you that," he drawled sarcastically.
Tech shot his brother a withering look, before turning back to address Hunter.
"Several reports have previously been filed by clones under his command, detailing various...incidents. Coincidentally, a great deal of those clones were killed in action not long after filing said reports."
Hunter felt sick to his stomach. It was a hard enough task trying to keep his brothers alive, to protect them from the hazards on the battlefield. If he had a Jedi with an unreasonable hatred towards clones to worry about too, things were markedly bleaker.
"That doesn't surprise me," said Crosshair casually.
Hunter sighed and chewed his lip.
"If that's the case, then we'd better do our best not to draw attention to ourselves," he said wearily. "Try and avoid him, and don't intentionally do anything that might piss him off."
He looked directly at Crosshair as he said the last, but the man merely shrugged as if to imply that he was not prepared to agree to anything.
"At any rate, I'd still better check in with the reg Captain."
Hunter blew out a long breath, gritting his teeth and scanning the crowd of regs for the blonde haired clone. He spotted him a distance away, standing in front of a hulking great besalisk which he assumed was Krell.
"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he said to the group, again pointedly eyeing Crosshair.
"No promises."
Weaving his way through the battalion, he made a beeline for Rex, coming to a halt several paces from the man. The Captain had his helmet off and was staring unblinkingly up at the Jedi with a cold kind of defiance that was uncharacteristic for a reg.
"I also have another duty, to protect those men."
Hunter hovered in the background, cautiously watching as the besalisk's face contorted in silent rage. He considered taking a step back, just in the hopes that he might blend in with the crowd and dissapear. He was exhausted, and really did not relish the thought of an altercation with their new General.
There were a few tense seconds while the Jedi and the Captain stared each other down. Eventually, Krell's face slackened, and some of his fury seemed to dissipate.
"You have a spark of tenacity, Captain. I'll give you that. And I suppose your loyalty to your men is to be commended. They seem to admire this. All right, Captain Rex. Your opinion has been noted. Dismissed."
It was clear that the reg had expected some sort of fight by the way his brown eyes widened and his brows lifted. The besalisk stalked off, leaving a tense silence in his wake. Hunter took the opportunity to step forward, tugging off his helmet and propping it under one arm.
"Captain."
Rex's eyes went even wider as he turned to face him, his surprise quickly replaced with a lopsided smile.
"Sergeant?!" he exclaimed, huffing a chuckle. "Maker, you look like you've been through it."
Hunter glanced down at himself, his armour scuffed and filthy and his blacks torn in places that the plastoid did not cover.
"Yeah," he replied dryly, "you could say that."
"Regardless, I'm glad to see you in one piece," the reg said, his smile becoming warmer and more genuine. "And...the rest of your squad...?"
"Alive."
"Good. We're gonna need every man we can muster."
Hunter blinked slowly, his tone low and suspicious.
"For what?"
The Captain's eyes suddenly became weary, his jaw tightened, and he scrubbed a gloved hand across his face.
"For our next assault on the capitol."
Hunter's scowl deepened.
"Whaddya mean by 'next assault'? Thought we just bailed you out of the last one."
Rex looked a little irritated by the comment, his lips narrowing to a thin line.
"We had things perfectly under control," he replied cooly.
Hunter cocked an eyebrow skeptically.
"Uh-huh."
"I'd be grateful, SERGEANT," said Rex, adding a great deal of emphasis to Hunter's rank, "if you would ensure that your men are ready to move out imminently."
Hunter folded his arms and tilted his chin defiantly.
"With respect, CAPTAIN," he replied, throwing in a similar inflection, "you don't have enough men to take the capitol with such a direct approach."
"That's what I said," added a nearby ARC trooper, who was watching the exchange curiously.
Rex's mouth narrowed even further and he shot the trooper a filthy look.
"Those are our orders."
"Kriffing stupid orders if you ask me," mumbled the other reg, his tone scornful.
"Fives!" the Captain hissed, eyes darting around as though expecting Krell to have appeared behind him.
The trooper called Fives pulled off his helmet, his scowl mirroring that of the blonde clone.
"This approach is gonna get a lot of men killed, Rex," he snapped, staring intently at his superior with an unblinking gaze. "You know it. I know it. Krell knows it."
"Maybe. But we have a plan to follow."
"A plan!" barked Fives, loud enough that several of the nearby troopers turned to look. "Marching blindly to our deaths is not a plan!"
"Watch your tone, trooper!" Rex growled, squaring himself as though preparing for a fight.
"He has a point," added Hunter, who was not keen on putting his brothers back into harms way so quickly. "There are better ways to take the capital. That won't result in such high casualties."
The Captain's hard eyes shifted to Hunter, a look of complete disapproval on his face. Clearly, he was not best pleased that the Sergeant had felt the need to weigh in.
"The General has ordered us to undertake a full frontal assault. And that is exactly what we are going to do."
Fives huffed an unamused laugh.
"Really, Rex, I thought the lives of your men mattered more to you than that?"
Anger, hot and fierce, glazed the Captain's eyes.
"Don't you dare," he warned, tone low and menacing. "Don't you DARE imply that I make this decision lightly."
Both regs simultaneously took a step towards each other, and Hunter was fairly certain that they would be throwing punches within a minute. He hastily took a step between them, not because he cared whether or not they beat each other to a pulp, but because he doubted Krell (from what Tech had suggested) would be too pleased to see his clones fighting. And blame always had a habit of somehow attaching itself to his squad whenever a fight broke out.
"Easy, fellas," he said, raising a placating hand towards both men. "Save it for the Umbaran's."
A tense silence stretched for a few moments. Rex was the first to back down, taking a deep breath and visibly forcing his shoulders to relax.
"He's right," he admitted with a sigh. "I'm exhausted. You're exhausted. Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere."
Hunter blinked rapidly, both surprised and flattered that these two seasoned veterans had actually listened to him.
The ARC trooper folded his arms and pouted like a sulky shiny.
"I still think we should go ahead with General Skywalker's plan. Take a platoon through the forest and attack the capital's defences with a staggered formation."
Rex's scowl returned, though he didn't immediately reply. Hunter cocked his head to one side, humming in thought.
"That's...actually not a bad suggestion," he admitted grudgingly. These were regs after all, and he still wasn't certain whether they could be trusted not to turn on him.
Fives' lips quirked up in a half smile and he gave Hunter a grateful nod.
"See! Why can't we try that first?"
"Because that would be in direct violation of General Krell's orders," the Captain said slowly, carefully, as though trying to drill the point home.
"He wouldn't have to know," insisted the ARC trooper.
"Fives, that's enough."
"Rex, just give us a chance to try it another way!"
Rex screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as though to ward off a headache. Hunter watched him for a second, before glancing over his shoulder in the direction of where his brothers were, sitting at the edge of the battalion and taking a moment of well deserved rest. How he'd love to do the same, but Krell's suicidal plan had gotten under his skin. Setting his jaw, he turned to the ARC trooper.
"If you're gonna do what you're proposing, me and my men are with you."
He didn't like it, but it seemed a safer option compared to attempting another open assault.
A grin spread across Fives' face and he visibly perked up a little at Hunter's show of support. The man was just opening his mouth to speak when a crackle rent the air, stirring the hairs on the back of Hunter's neck and piercing at his eardrums.
The Umbaran's had regrouped for a counter attack.
...
Rex was exhausted.
Every fiber of his being was screaming out for rest, but he forced his body to keep moving regardless. They'd withdrawn from the capital under the orders of General Kenobi. Somehow, by some insane miracle, they'd extracted themselves from the carnage with most of the platoons still intact. There had been casualties, of course, but Rex tried to count it as a blessing that they were lower than he had anticipated.
He stifled a yawn, glad his bucket hid the bags that had surely formed under his eyes. He would have given an awful lot for a cup of caf and a lie down. Every opportunity the battalion had been offered to catch their breath, Rex had been too busy checking in with the medics and the platoon Sergeants. Rest was a luxury that he was not permitted to enjoy, at least not until every last man's needs had been met first.
Sighing, he reached into his belt pouch, fumbling until his fingers sealed around the small cylinder. He pulled the item out, snapped off the lid, and jammed the pointy end into the spot between his arm guard and vambrace. Stims were not an ideal solution, particularly as the come down was not pleasant, but he needed something to keep him going.
The buzz was almost instantaneous, and Rex took a deep breath as his pulse quickened and his limbs began moving with renewed vigour. He trotted to catch up to the General, shooting the besalisk a side eye as he drew level.
"I estimate another two hour march to the base, sir," he said in an overly helpful manner. He wasn't particularly enamoured with the Jedi, but he was still Rex's superior, and keeping on his good side (or as close to as he could manage) would ensure the mission ran smoothly.
Krell harumphed loudly, his chin wobbling as he did so.
"We could halve that time if your men would stop dawdling."
Rex felt a spark of anger fan to life in his chest, but hastily doused it. He knew Skywalker had a knack for sensing his emotions, and although he wasn't certain if all Jedi shared that skill, he wasn't prepared to risk the chance that Krell too had the same ability. So he chose to swallow down his retort.
"The men are tired, sir."
Krell made a scoffing sound in his throat and folded a pair of his arms.
"Your men are weak, Captain. If they were not, they would have the fortitude to be able to keep up the pace."
The anger turned to outright fury at that comment. He knew a few of the Jedi did not regard the clones particularly highly, but Rex had been fortunate to have never come across one that outright disliked them. That is, until he became acquainted with Krell.
He did not bother to hide his emotions this time. Part of him hoped the besalisk would feel just how kriffing angry he was. Perhaps then he might come to realise that Rex was not the sort of man to be walked all over.
By the time they reached the ridge, Rex was still seething. He hoped the upcoming assault on the Umbaran air base might provide a welcome outlet for his rage. Peering down into the valley through his macro binoculars, however, a cold dread began settling in his stomach.
"At least three tank divisions," he said to nobody in particular, his tone grim. "Plus guns."
"That's a lot of fire power," muttered Fives, who was standing nearby.
Krell, who still appeared to be in a foul mood for no adequate reason, huffed loudly, as though dismissing the ARC trooper's comment.
"We'll advance along the central gorge and engage their forces in a full frontal assault."
The knot in Rex's stomach tightened even further.
"The gorge is narrow, sir," he said cautiously. "We'll only be able to move our platoons in single squads."
That would be problematic. Spreading the platoons out would make any sort of direct engagement with the Umbaran's almost impossible.
"Perhaps a closer recon will tell us if there's a more secure route."
He had anticipated Krell's reaction, but even so, Rex still took an involuntary step backwards when the Jedi rounded on him.
"Obi-Wan and the other battalions are holding off the enemy right now while they wait for us to take out this base," he said in a condescending tone, waving a hand dismissively. "We don't have time to look for a more secure route."
Rex opened his mouth to argue, before deciding that Krell would not listen anyway. He pursed his lips into a thin line.
"Yes, sir."
He shoved his bucket on his head, took a deep breath, and headed back to platoons to relay to his men Krell's latest plan for getting them all killed.