Quinlan stepped into the rickety lift that would take them down to the market level, then paused to run his fingers over the buttons. None of them were marked. "Uhh –"

"Does this thing even work?" Hunter asked warily, joining him.

"Well, it hasn't collapsed yet." Quinlan leaned closer to the buttons, nose almost touching them as he tried to decipher the numbers from the tiny flakes of paint that remained on the rusted metal. "Okay, that's a seven, I think? No . . . maybe it's a four? Or . . . nine?"

Tech eyed the fraying metal cable, which was visible through the open roof. "Maybe we should take two trips."

Wrecker stepped into the lift, and the whole thing creaked and shuddered alarmingly.

". . . Maybe we should walk," Crosshair said.

Quinlan rubbed his jaw. "Which level are we even on?"

"Fifty-six," said Tech.

"Okay. So four down not including this one would be fifty-two, but - wow, I really can't see this."

Crosshair flipped his rangefinder down over his visor, then pointed to a nearly blank button.

"Are you sure?" Quinlan frowned.

Crosshair shrugged, shutting the lift's half-door behind him, and Hunter leaned over to push the button he'd indicated.

With a rattling, grinding sound, the cable started rotating, and the lift jerked and shivered its way downward.

Everyone remained still and silent, eyeing the lift and the cable with varying degrees of suspicion. Every few seconds, the cable stuck, then came free with a loud click. Quinlan noticed that both Tech and Hunter had half-pulled their ascender cables from their belts.

Wrecker brightened suddenly. "Hey, Tech."

"Yes?"
Wrecker rocked forward on his toes, then jolted down, timing it with the next click of the cable. The sudden jolt made the cable skid smoothly past the snag.

"Told you it would work," said Wrecker, apparently continuing an argument from some previous mission.

Quinlan waited until the next click, then tried it himself. His weight didn't do as much against the sticking cable, but it still worked a bit. "You know, I never thought of that."

With a slightly irked sigh, Tech glanced at the bigger clone. "Wrecker, I never said it wouldn't work. I said you would break the lift if you tried."

Wrecker shrugged happily. "This one didn't break, though!"

At that moment, the lift ground to a halt.

Hunter glanced up. "Did Wrecker jinx it, or are we on the right level?"

Grabbing the top of the lift, Quinlan hauled himself up onto his elbows. "I don't see any signs around here, but we look pretty far down. Wait, I can see the marketplace from here. I'd say we've reached our destination."

Crosshair hummed. "Then why is the door still blocked by a solid metal wall?"

Quinlan dropped back down and turned to consider the door, which, sure enough, was currently held shut by the shaft wall. It seemed the lift had stopped too soon, and the Jedi mulled over Crosshair's question with pretended seriousness. "Because everything in the city is a piece of junk?"

"Granted," said Hunter, removing his helmet to study the tiny room. "We could probably climb out the top and rappel down from there."
Quinlan was about to agree when Tech, with a surprising burst of motion, clipped his datapad to his belt and dodged to the opposite side of the lift. "Wrecker, don't you dare– !"

"I'll help you!" Wrecker said, his voice cheerfully loud to drown out Tech's protest. The big clone brushed between Hunter and Quinlan, caught Tech by both arms, and hoisted him up, spinning him around so that he knelt on Wrecker's shoulder.

The Jedi Knight grinned.

Tech scrambled to his feet and dealt Wrecker a swift kick in the arm, then climbed to the top of the lift to sit on the edge, where he swung his feet nonchalantly and looked down at the others. "Hunter, if Wrecker is too heavy to make it up here, we could always blow the lift wall from the outside."

Crosshair snickered and Wrecker lunged at him, but was brought up short by Hunter's arm across his chest. "Just get us up there, Wrecker."

Grumbling, Wrecker dropped to one knee, locking his hands together.

Quinlan used a short, Force-aided jump to get to the wall opposite Tech. Balancing precariously on the edge of the durasteel wall, he observed the surrounding blue-black darkness which stretched around and below them.

Hunter got to the adjacent wall, and Crosshair stepped onto Wrecker's hands, reaching up for the wall opposite the sergeant.

Wrecker gave him a boost that was much harder than necessary. Crosshair caught the edge anyway and twisted like a cat to land on both feet, mirroring Quinlan's position.

"We're pretty high up," said Hunter, glancing down. "Wrecker, you'd better stay put until we find a way to fix this."

"Yeah, that – uh, sounds like a good idea."

Quinlan eyed the cable, then hopped across the open space to Tech's side of the lift and peered at the shaft wall. "The door's only a few meters below the lift. Maybe the cable just got snagged."

"Could we cut it?" Hunter mused, then answered his own question by glancing down at the long drop. "Ah. . . Never mind."

Crosshair straightened to his full height and walked easily along the edge until he could reach the cable where it wrapped around the pulley. "I don't see anything wrong with it."

Quinlan wondered whether Crosshair had noticed how high up they were – if he had, he certainly didn't seem to have any concerns about falling. Hunter had noticed, judging by the glances he kept sending his teammate, but the sergeant didn't actually say anything, so Quinlan decided not to lecture the sniper on the possible bad effects of landing on duracrete from a height of a couple hundred meters.

Wrecker paced across the lift, then paused to tap at the outer wall. "I bet I could punch through this."

"You'd step right into thin air," replied Hunter.

Tech blinked at his datapad. "Hm, that's interesting."

"Stepping into thin air is interesting, isn't it," agreed Quinlan, then smirked when Tech looked perplexed. He probably hadn't been listening to the conversation at all.

Hunter gestured for Tech to continue. The shorter clone pressed something on his vambrace, and a grid of faint green light appeared over his visor. "The lift did not fail – it was simply shut down."

"Aw, crud." Quinlan hopped down to the floor of the lift. "I really hate it when they do the old 'trap the lift' routine. Hunter?"

The sergeant looked down.

Quinlan snapped his fingers. "Gimme the lightsaber, please and thank you."

Hunter tossed him the weapon. He also rolled his eyes, or at least the motion of his head indicated an eyeroll. Quinlan couldn't tell for certain, what with the helmet and all, but he'd be willing to stake a few thousand credits on the fact. Especially since he didn't have a few thousand credits. All his worldly wealth was locked away in the Jedi Temple and in a few safe bases he'd set up around the galaxy.

"It's always safe to bet what you don't have," he declared.

"What?" Hunter glanced from the Jedi to Crosshair in obvious confusion.

Quinlan grinned, ignited the crackling green blade, and stabbed it into the shaft wall just above the lift's door.

No one spoke for a telling moment, and then Wrecker broke the silence. "Who do you think stopped the lift?"

"Someone who wanted to trap us," said Quinlan, dragging the saber sideways. "Or, someone who wanted to trap someone else and got us instead . . . but I don't think so. Too well-timed."

Tech hung by his fingers for a moment and dropped to the lift floor to join him. "You think they are waiting outside?"

"Maybe." Quinlan stood on his toes, trying to push his blade upward, but he was already at the top of his reach. "Ugh."

"Wouldn't it be easier to cut through the lift door and the shaft there?" Tech asked.

"Well, it's – thicker. Takes – longer. Ow." Quinlan stepped back, removing the blade for a moment to give his aching shoulders a rest. Maybe Tech was right. Cutting through durasteel at waist level was a lot easier than cutting through durasteel that was well above head level.

"Wrecker," said Hunter. "Give him a hand."

Wrecker took the lightsaber, plunged it into the wall where Quinlan had last been working, and easily carved out a square using only one hand. "Hey, I like this weapon!"

Crosshair huffed. "You would."

"Hey. . ." Quinlan eyed the glowing lines. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Hm." Hunter sounded amused. "It's called working with a team."

Well – he wasn't wrong. . . Quinlan scoffed anyway, then jumped up and landed a hard kick against the cut square, which fell outwards with a clang.

He glanced through the opening and reported, "Walkway's five meters down and really narrow."

"No jumping without cables," Hunter ordered his men.

"Anyone waiting for us?" Crosshair asked.

"Nope. I'll bet they intended to catch us before we entered the lift," Quinlan said, climbing through the hole. "And when they missed their chance, their only choice was to stop the lift where we'd be trapped. They're probably on their way here now."

He eyed the ground for a moment, then kicked off the lift and landed in the exact center of the narrow walkway. Sensing nothing immediately threatening, he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. Hostility . . . focus . . . many presences . . .

Quinlan looked up to see Tech already climbing out of the lift. "They're coming, but still distant enough. I can't tell how many."

Tech attached his cable and hurried down, kicking off the shaft wall to increase his speed. Wrecker followed, moving with surprising dexterity, then Crosshair.

Hunter, who was last, detached his cable when he was only halfway down and slid the rest of the way. He landed soundlessly beside Quinlan and straightened to observe their surroundings. "Any way we can outrun 'em?"

Quinlan shrugged. The walkway extended about a hundred meters to either side of them, and a dozen alleyways branched off, heading deeper into the tangled maze of buildings and skyscrapers that was Nar Shaddaa. "We can avoid them for now," he said. "But I don't see the point."

"Me either," Wrecker added. "We should just smash 'em while we have the chance!"

Quinlan nodded. "Especially since they're probably supposed to bring us back to whoever sent them."

"Grakkus," said Crosshair.

"That's not a sentence," said the Jedi as Wrecker gave Hunter the lightsaber. "But yeah. Grakkus."

"Let's split up," said Hunter. "If they're tracking us, that should cause them to divide their forces. And if something goes wrong, it'll keep us from all getting taken out at once."

"Okay," said Quinlan. "Everyone head to the market, though. We'll need a rendezvous point . . . Tech?"

Tech looked up. "According to this map, there is a cantina called 'Rimmer's Rest' on the northern side of the market."

"Got it." Hunter tapped Tech's arm with the back of his hand. "Come on, you and Wrecker are with me."

Crosshair shot Quinlan a sideways look. "So I'm with Vos."

"Yeah." Hunter's tone clearly indicated that this fact was non-negotiable.

After a moment's thought, Quinlan said, "Hunter, you do know that's cruel and unusual punishment. For both of us."

"Eh, you'll get used to it." Now, Hunter sounded as though he were wearing an overbearing, smug smile under that helmet of his. "And if you don't, at least I won't have to deal with it."

"Yeah, but –"

"Rendezvous in fifteen minutes," said Hunter, and headed off to the right, with Tech and Wrecker trailing after him.

Quinlan frowned after him. Nuts.

Crosshair stayed a few meters behind Quinlan as the two of them ran down yet another alleyway. Although the whole alley was empty, the Jedi still moved from one shadowy area to the other, utilizing every bit of cover he could. It seemed that he was treating the alleyway as a battle zone, and Crosshair wasn't sure why. Quinlan Vos didn't work in active battle zones and had no need to dodge laserfire on a regular basis. Even if he did, any sniper worth his salt would have been able to hit Vos ten times over by this point, due to the lack of cover.

At least the Jedi didn't hesitate. He'd continued moving confidently among the many turns and twists, never stopping except to glance once into each alley before continuing on his chosen route. Crosshair's own sense of direction was telling him that they were going the wrong way, but that had happened before in large cities. Hunter was much better at finding their way through places like this – even Wrecker was better, and Tech always had his schematics and maps with him. Usually Crosshair could depend on one of the three to maneuver through crowded or closed-in areas.

Now, he had to depend on Vos. He didn't mistrust the Jedi, exactly, but . . . I don't trust him, either.

The regs on Kamino spoke of the Jedi with awe and speculated on which species and gender of general they'd have when the war began. Crosshair had always been less than enthused about the subject. Partly because he didn't care; partly because his squad had never been expected to serve directly under their own Jedi General. The squad had seen General Kenobi briefly, at a distance, but that was all. Even Tech had done minimal research on him. Kenobi was Cody's to deal with. The members of Bad Batch had plenty to do dealing with droids and insurrectionists.

As for Vos, the Bad Batch had known him for – what, a day? – so Crosshair didn't think his continued distrust of the Jedi was unreasonable. Hunter did, because Vos had given them no reason to distrust him, and Hunter always gave people the benefit of the doubt. Wrecker did, but Wrecker would trust anyone who was as openly friendly as the Jedi. Tech would most likely think it reasonable to trust someone who had risked his life to save Hunter from Grakkus, but Quinlan could have saved the sergeant because he needed him alive in order to complete the mission.

As they reached the end of the long alley, Crosshair turned sharply on his heel and observed the area behind them. No sudden flickers of movement betrayed any pursuers, but he performed a quick check with thermal imaging just in case before following Vos again. The Kiffar Jedi was waiting for him, expression curious, but when Crosshair gestured for him to continue, he shrugged easily and obeyed. He seemed to assume that the sniper knew what he was doing.

Of course, Crosshair did know what he was doing; and it was beginning to look as though Vos knew what he was doing, too. . . more or less. Despite his seeming lack of a plan, he had managed to accomplish the first objective, and gotten the squad hired by Vythia.

Crosshair slipped beneath a narrow archway. The thought that it would probably be safe to trust the Jedi, but only as far as the mission itself went, had just crossed his mind when Quinlan stopped walking.

The next instant, the Jedi swung around and reached for his knife, eyes gleaming weirdly in the blue light from the level above.

Crosshair hesitated, glancing in both directions. He couldn't see anyone. Was the Jedi sensing something, or was he waiting for the enemy – or both?

Quinlan extended his knife blade with a flick of his wrist. "Well . . . Looks like we're surrounded," he said blandly.

"How many?"

"Four on each side."

"Not gonna be a problem." Crosshair knelt, lifting his rifle to one shoulder. "I'll handle this side."

"If you say so . . ."

His dubious tone pricked at Crosshair, who eyed him critically. Jedi normally try to avoid killing sentients, don't they? "You're really going to fight them with a knife?"

"Why not? Hunter does."

Crosshair adjusted his scope, deciding not to ask his actual question. "Well, you're not Hunter."

"Nope. I'm a Jedi Knight with amazing abilities."

"Which is why I had to save you from those assassin droids."

Quinlan had the effrontery to look briefly astonished. "Hey, I thought that was a misfire on your part."

Crosshair snorted and switched his rifle output to stun for the moment. Enemies weren't as careful of stun shots as they were of lasers, which helped keep skirmishes from dragging out too much. "I don't miss shots," he said.

"Everyone does."

"I don't."

"Never?"

"Not once."

Quinlan appeared to be considering something for a moment before he smirked and said, "My Jedi senses tell me that's why your name is Crosshair."

"Do you always talk this much, or –" Crosshair broke off, watching a flicker of movement at the far end of the alley. "Any civilians nearby?"

"In the houses." Quinlan's tone was suddenly quiet and serious. "None entering this street, though – yet."

"Good." Crosshair fired, and the black-clothed man dropped.

Utter silence fell. Crosshair realized that he'd been listening all along to faint, barely recognizable sounds from the surrounding buildings, but now everything seemed to have frozen, as though this part of the city were holding its breath.

"We'll have to break out one end or the other," said Vos.

"We can outlast them," Crosshair replied. He was a sniper. He had mastered the skill of lying motionless for hours on end, waiting for his target to make a move, without losing his own focus or becoming weary.

"No." The Jedi looked up. "We've got more coming from above."

Crosshair got to his feet, still watching the alley's entrance. "Which side?"

Vos didn't answer, and Crosshair half-turned. The Jedi had one hand on the building wall, and his eyes were shut as though he were listening for a distant sound.

Crosshair hesitated, then put his back to the opposite wall, trying to keep an eye on both ends of the alley.

Another movement – someone was reaching into the alley. Crosshair twitched his rifle to the side and fired. He hit his target, but the grenade had already been thrown, and the flashbang went off, not three meters away, in a burst of intensely white, clinging sparks.

Crosshair staggered back with a cry, one arm jerking up automatically to shield his searing eyes, but it was too late. His vision had been adjusted to the dark – sudden exposure to daylight would have been bad enough. The flashbang, with its concentrated force of stunning light, had completely overwhelmed him. He forced his eyes open despite knowing that it was pointless. He was completely blind – it would only last for twenty seconds, but the attackers had already rushed the alleyway.

The Jedi hadn't said a word. Maybe he was unconscious.

Snarling, Crosshair lifted his rifle and fired into the approaching footsteps. His lasers hit two different attackers before they reached him. Someone snatched his rifle at either end and twisted it from his grasp. Crosshair caught the person's arm and broke it with a violent motion.

The rifle clattered to the ground. Crosshair whipped out his pistol, to no avail. Hands grabbed at his elbows, his shoulders – someone wrenched his arm back and pulled away the pistol –

Then there was a rush of movement, the sound of a knife striking flesh and a stun round being fired. Crosshair knew, inexplicably, that Vos had entered the battle even before the clutching hands abruptly released him. As soon as the attackers turned their attention to the Jedi, Crosshair dropped to one knee and ran a hand along the ground where he'd heard his weapons land. He found his pistol and holstered it.

A few interminable seconds later, Crosshair straightened, rifle in hand as he blinked the last flickers of light from his vision. Not four meters in front of him, Quinlan stood at bay, knife in one hand and pistol in the other, surrounded by six figures. Directly above Vos, still more attackers were climbing down on cables – two humans, and an enormous, black-clothed Besalisk, who descended towards the unsuspecting Jedi like a giant spider.

In the episode 'On the Wings of Keeradaks', Crosshair randomly loses his balance and falls off the pipe; but in the original story reel, there's a flash of lightning which makes Crosshair jerk back and raise an arm, and then he loses his balance and falls. I thought it was strange they didn't keep that shot in the episode, because it didn't make sense that he'd fall for no reason.

Anyway . . . I figure his mutation gives him a higher sensitivity to bright light.