Chapter 1 - Even If We Can't Find Heaven
Plot: Order 66 brought reality crashing back in, and it was a sharp reminder that even if they're vampires, that doesn't mean their newfound closeness is untouchable. All Hunter wants is to bring his family back together again, but with Crosshair hunting them down, and Tarkin aware of Hunter's Force sensitivity, it won't be easy.
Author's Note: Though this is technically a sequel to Blood-Bound, Blood-Touched, and Blood-Ties, it CAN be read as a standalone. I know some of y'all have been eager to see what happens with the Bad Batch in this universe during Order 66. ;) I hope you enjoy!
Also, this is our first fic for the Bad Batch Appreciation Week. Day 1 is Hunter. :D
There are five chapters, and we'll be posting weekly, probably on Mondays. ^-^
PS. This is for the Bad Batch bingo square of "Jedi AU". :)
And chapter titles come from the song Stand By You.
~ Amina Gila
Hunter frowns as the order echoes through the emergency channel. Execute Order 66. Is... that supposed to have some sort of meaning to him? Because it doesn't. He has no idea what that means. All he knows is that everything around him is screaming. He's still so unused to having the Force – he only got it after feeding from General Skywalker – and he doesn't quite know how to control it the way Jedi do. He's good at shielding, because it was the first technique he learned – hiding from the Jedi was of utmost importance, so no one would learn how he's changed – but the rest of it... not so much.
He's feeling so much right now, too much. Everything is dark and wrong, and the Force feels of death. He feels like he can't breathe, and if not for his training, and how he's learned to tune out stimuli so he's not overstimulated, he would be completely overwhelmed by it.
Stars, what is happening?
Behind them, the regs open fire on the Jedi, and Hunter inhales a choked gasp, because is this what is happening? All over the galaxy? The Force, the Light of it, is going dark, drowning in darkness, and everything is darkdarkdarkwrongdeathdark. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of feelings, slamming up his shields as much as he's capable of, but despite that, it's not too much for him to not notice or sense the way something else changes.
His bond with Crosshair.
In the Force, Crosshair's mind flickers from open and light to dark and closed-off, hazed over. It happens in a millisecond, but Hunter immediately knows that something is wrong with his little brother. The padawan runs into the trees, away from them and the regs, and Hunter watches him go, before turning to Tech. He doesn't even need to say anything; Tech can read the glance, can feel the flux of Hunter's emotions.
"The comm channel is repeating one directive, 'Execute Order 66,'" he reports, as if they don't all know that already.
"Yeah, I heard that, too," Wrecker replies, equally confused.
In fact, the only one of them who doesn't feel confused is Crosshair, and Hunter wavers on whether or not to say anything. Probably, he should. Something is wrong, and the Force is crying, the screams of the dying filling it, and he can't quite hide the tremors running through his body. It's – it's so strong.
"Crosshair?"
"The Jedi," Crosshair answers, and his voice is... strange. His helmet turns from the trees to look at Hunter. "You're sensitive to the Force, too."
Hunter scowls at him. "That doesn't make me a Jedi, di'kut," he hisses, because he can see the way Crosshair's hands are tightening on his weapons, not dissimilar to the dead, automatic way the regs attacked their Jedi and are now searching for the padawan. What the kriff is happening?!
Crosshair only looks away towards the trees again, his posture tense, rigid.
"We – we need to find the kid," Hunter decides finally. "Echo, with me. Crosshair, stay with Tech. Wrecker, stall anyone who tries to follow us."
"Finish it, Hunter," Crosshair says.
Hunter eyes him for a moment, confused, before turning away for the trees. It's easy to track the kid, with his fear screaming into the Force, and with their own enhanced abilities due to being vampires. They're faster than the other clones now, stronger. Their senses are more... attuned. And even from here, Hunter can smell the padawan, the lure of his blood calling to him. He's Force sensitive, and those people always draw them in most strongly.
The worst was General Skywalker, and he feels a faint flare of wry amusement when he remembers it. It was back after they got Echo, right after they'd turned him. He'd been feral with his hunger, and he'd jumped his General. Anakin was turned, then, and they all fed from him, just out of curiosity, once they realized that Echo's Force sensitivity was temporarily increased. It happened to all of them, but Hunter was the only one who kept it for whatever reason.
They're not the only vampire clones, anymore, because he knows that Anakin has been turning members of his own legion, starting with Rex. They can feel it, distantly, the flicker of light whenever a new person joins their coven, their family. And there are a lot now.
They find the kid, but he escapes, makes it across a waterfall to the safety of the other side. Hunter and Echo let him go, because they can't realistically stop him – well, they could if they really tried, but he'll be safer far away from the clones. Whatever is happening that's making the regs – and Crosshair? – act this way is... it'll result in the kid being hurt. So, they let him go and go back to rejoin the rest of their squad.
"It appears the regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi," Tech informs them as soon as they get there.
"What?" splutters Echo, wide-eyed and a little angry. "Which Jedi?"
"All of them," Tech answers grimly, and Hunter feels a shiver run down his spine. That makes sense. It definitely explains the strange darkness and death that he felt, and momentarily, he thinks about Anakin, wondering what happened to him, but he knows he's still alive. He can feel it. After – after Anakin was turned, he became their sire somehow, because of his strength in the Force, they all theorized, and they are bonded. Deeply. Hunter can feel him strongly, not only because he has the Force, too, and he would know it if something happened to the Jedi.
"At least the General's okay," Echo says softly, voicing Hunter's thoughts.
"I suppose that explains things," Crosshair muses, and all eyes turn towards him.
"How?" demands Wrecker, confused. "Anakin wouldn't betray us!"
But Hunter can feel the hurt in Crosshair, and he knows that, for whatever reason, Crosshair doesn't believe that. "He did, apparently," he replies. "All the Jedi, Tech said."
They look at each other, the silence heavy and uncomfortable. "At least he's okay," Hunter offers finally. "He's – maybe he did... do something, and maybe he didn't, but he's still part of the coven. He's still our sire." Hunter knows Anakin – sort of, at least, because even if they've worked together relatively closely with him and his legion after his transformation, it's only been half a year, not long enough to actually know him – and he knows that Anakin would never betray him. He's too loyal, too devoted, too protective.
They don't say anything to that; there's not really anything to say, anyway, and speculation is pointless, so they just leave. The regs are still searching for the padawan, but he's long gone, and the mission is over. It's time for them to go back to Kamino for a much-deserved break. They've been gone for a long time, one hundred and eighty rotations, according to Tech.
"You let the padawan get away."
There's a quiet accusation in Crosshair's voice, and Hunter instinctively tenses, glancing towards where Crosshair is sitting across from him. His helmet is still on, so Hunter can't see his face, but he doesn't need to, to guess the look on his face, the accusation in his eyes as his stare bores into Hunter's side. "Not – we don't understand what's happening," he deflects, but it's weak. He can't deny it outright, and it would be pointless anyway, because Crosshair would know he's lying. Sometimes, the telepathic bond between them, another side-effect of being vampires, is more frustrating than anything else.
"Yes, we do," Crosshair answers, an edge to his voice that's not normal. He still feels dark, closed-off, distant, and Hunter doesn't like it. "It's not really that complicated."
"Just – drop it," he says, rubbing his temple. His head hurts, and the Force still feels awful and wrong, and not even his shielding is enough to block it all out. It's sapping his energy, and his head is pounding. He doesn't have the strength to have an argument, or even a discussion, with Crosshair right now.
"You disobeyed orders," Crosshair replies, his voice even softer, almost threatening.
"No, I didn't," Hunter snaps, more sharply than he means to, "Someone clearly neglected to tell us what this... order was even supposed to mean, much less the reasoning behind it. It doesn't matter. That was never our mission anyway."
Crosshair doesn't say anything, a still, silent shadow as they land on Kamino. The Coruscant Guard are there, and Hunter has an even worse feeling, especially when he sees the stretcher they're carrying, the body of the Jedi who was stationed here on it. Even if it's covered, Hunter can sense it, and the falling lightsaber only confirms it. In his boots, his own lightsabers suddenly feel glaringly obvious, though he's worn them there for months with no one being the wiser.
Anakin took them to Ilum, so Hunter could get a kyber crystal to build a lightsaber of his own. He hadn't actually thought it would work, but it did, and he ended up with two lightsabers. Which makes sense, because he often prefers up-close combat, sometimes using his and Wrecker's vibroblades in unison against droids. It makes sense, he supposes, that he would have two lightsabers. He's been careful to keep them hidden, secret, careful not to let anyone realize that he's the one who's wielding lightsaber on the occasions when he does use them.
But he knows how to use them, and well, thanks to Anakin's instructions and the holocron that the Jedi gave him. He... is a clone, not a Jedi, but he can still use the Force and get lightsaber training like the Jedi do, according to Anakin.
The regs can't see Hunter's lightsabers any more than they ever have, but it still feels like they should, and he's itchy, on edge, as they walk through the halls of Kamino.
And the war is over, apparently.
But the further they go, the more Hunter realizes something is horribly wrong, and he's not the only one who notices.
"All the regs are being weird," Wrecker whisper-hisses behind them.
"Yeah," Hunter agrees quietly, warily, "I can feel it. They're... different." In the Force, they're dimmer. Their minds feel empty, devoid of emotions, laser focused on – on... orders? They don't seem quite as human as usual, and it's unsettling. Terrifying, if he's being honest. It makes him instinctively register them as enemies, as threats.
They get to their barracks, and it's only there that Hunter begins to relax. Of course, then Crosshair decides it's a good time to start arguing with Wrecker over whether or not Kaller can be counted as a win.
"But we completed our objectives," Wrecker protests, expression scrunching with confusion.
Crosshair scowls, pushing the toothpick around in his mouth. "Not all of them. Hunter let the Jedi kid escape."
Hunter wants to scream into a pillow right now. "I didn't let him escape," he snaps back, "I just didn't try to jump across a waterfall after him! I wasn't feeling particularly suicidal at that moment."
"You wouldn't have died. Don't be ridiculous," Crosshair drawls.
"Executing our commanders isn't a mission objective, and it certainly wasn't what we were called to Kaller for," he throws back, annoyed.
"Orders are orders," Crosshair retorts, glaring.
"Since when?" Hunter growls, glaring back, before flopping dramatically onto his bunk and rubbing his head with a groan. "Ow."
"This doesn't make sense," Echo interrupts before anyone can say anything. "Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?"
"Because of the regs' programming," Tech answers, and then proceeds to go into an explanation that Hunter only half listens to about how he theorizes that the regs were programmed to follow orders without question and how he suspects that, because of the Batch's mutations – and perhaps their new vampire abilities – as well as Echo's treatment on Skako Minor, it is likely that they are immune to whatever programming the other clones got.
But Hunter... is not so certain, not when he looks at the way Crosshair is sitting on his bunk, not as he feels the dark emptiness in him through their bond. It's unsettling and a little terrifying, too, honestly. Maybe if he was feeling like himself, maybe if the Force wasn't drowning in death and darkness, he would be able to try and do something about it. But now, he can only lay here and try to endure it while the tidal waves wash over him.
**w**
They're called to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic, where they learn that the Republic has been reorganized into an Empire. Hunter tries to shield himself from it all, but it's hard when he can feel a horrible, oily darkness emanating from the hologram of the once-Chancellor at the front of the room. It makes him want to claw his skin off. Or a sonic might work, too, but he doubts it. It's awful and wrong, and –
He can suddenly feel a small, flicker of light in the Force, the presence of a child, a bright one, and it's probably the only reason he's able to get through the briefing without reacting outwardly. He sees her – it is a her, right? – once, up by Nala Se, but it's not until after they leave, when they're walking through the halls back to their barracks, that he senses it again. Echo is ranting about how the Republic has become an Empire, and Crosshair is making snide remarks to him about it, when Hunter stops them.
"Lads, we have company," he says, even though he actually wants to point out that he, too, would probably be killed if anyone knew he was Force sensitive or had lightsabers, and they all turn around to look at the child. Because she is definitely a child.
"Hello," she waves, smiling brightly.
"What's that?" Wrecker asks, dramatically bending over to peer at her.
Hunter stills, surprised, when he smells her, the light scent of flowers and honey, and from the lure of her blood, he knows that she's Force sensitive, like him. The others can smell it, too, he knows, and he can't help but wonder why she's here. It's probably not safe for her.
"My name's Omega," she tells them cheerfully. "I was wondering when you guys would come back."
That throws Hunter. He hadn't expected that. At all. "You know who we are?"
She does, apparently, because she lists them all off without hesitation.
"What are you doing on Kamino, kid?" he queries, because it's important. If she's in trouble...
But then, Nala Se comes to get her, merely saying that the girl is her medical assistant who often wanders. When they're out of sight, Omega pausing briefly to wave to them again, Hunter turns to his brothers. "She's Force sensitive," he tells them seriously, meeting their gazes. "I don't know why she's here, but if – if she's in danger..."
"We'll help her," Echo finishes, nodding. He doesn't even hesitate.
Tech nods, too, and so does Wrecker, but Crosshair... Hunter catches the shadow that flickers over his youngest brother's face, though he says nothing. He doesn't seem opposed to the idea, exactly, just... something. Hunter doesn't know what to do, how to help him, but by the Force, he wishes he did.
They go to the cafeteria to eat not long later, and somehow, Hunter isn't surprised when Omega finds them there. She sits down right next to them, totally disregarding their obvious surprise at her presence. He tries to get more information out of her, but he's interrupted when some passing regs make a snide remark which soon devolves into a full-out brawl. It's fun, of course, as it always is, but as usual, they have to be careful to tone it down, lest their enhanced reflexes give them away as something... other.
Omega is... something special, though. Of that, Hunter is certain. Almost no one has accepted them so openly and freely. Echo did, of course, and so did Anakin. The 501st is warming up to them majorly, but it's a little different, because they're all vampires now, so it's more that they get each other than anything else. And now, there's Omega.
She stays with them even after Echo is checked out at the medbay after being knocked unconscious – which has Hunter worried, because Echo's reflexes are as good as the rest of theirs are. There's no reason why he should have been so distracted, unless something happened that they don't realize.
Which, apparently, is what happened.
An Imperial was sent to evaluate all the clones, and it's Tarkin, the one from the Citadel mission where Echo blew up, someone who has a general distaste for clones. Not that it phases Hunter at all, because he's used to it. Natborns rarely like them, but it doesn't stop them from getting the job done. They're summoned by the Prime Minister, undoubtedly for reprimand, for causing such a scene in front of someone so high-ranking, and Hunter has to talk Omega down from coming too.
She's so adamant that they let her come, so insistent that she wants to stick with them, but it's not safe for her. Unless she's in actual danger, Hunter doesn't want to pull her into the trouble that follows him and his squad everywhere.
Especially now.
He's a trained Force sensitive, and he's hiding it. They're all vampires. And something is wrong with Crosshair.
It isn't safe for her; she's just a kid, not a soldier. She doesn't understand their life.
But apparently, they were actually summoned by Admiral Tarkin, who wanted to see them in action in a battle simulation. Easy. They could do it in their sleep, so Hunter doesn't know why he has such a bad feeling about this. "We've done these a thousand times, boys. You know what to do," Hunter tells them as they enter the training room via the lift.
And then, it's just a blur of action, them taking down the droids as they always do, though they're all careful to reign in their speed and strength so it doesn't draw any unwanted attention. Hunter – and all of them – are very mindful of the eyes that are watching them, judging them.
They defeat the first group of droids that are sent in, and Wrecker, foolishly, yells, "What else ya got? Gimme more!"
Hunter feels the twinge in the Force, the whisper of danger, right before dozens of droids rise up out of the floor. These are... different, and he soon realizes that their training blasters are useless. And the droids are using live rounds. It's only a matter of time before one of them is seriously hurt or worse, and – and he can't let that happen, no matter what it means he has to do. If he has to sacrifice himself for them, then he'll do it.
"There's only one way out," he says, looking between his brothers, "And I think we all know it. We all knew I could never keep this secret forever."
"Hunter, no!" yells Echo, but he's already moving, drawing the lightsabers from the place where he's kept them concealed, igniting them with a dual snap-hiss and lunging forwards, letting the Force guide him. It's instinct to deflect away the blaster bolts that come too close, instinct to slice through the droids that are around him. It's instinct to Force shove them backwards, away from his brothers, his squad. If he dies for this, at least it will be with the knowledge that his family, his coven is safe.
The battle, if it can even be called that, only lasts a matter of minutes, and then, it's over. Hunter is standing in the middle of the chaos, destruction all around him as he thumbs off the blades, sliding them back to their hiding spots. It's over, and they're safe, but the secret of his Force sensitivity is out... and he has no idea how the Empire will react to it, what Tarkin will do to him, because of it.
No one stops them when they exit the training room and return to their barracks with the simulation complete, but Hunter can't help but feel that there are dozens of eyes tracking their every movement. He hates it. He hates that he doesn't feel safe here anymore, in the home where he grew up. It was never safe, exactly, but there was never such an ominous cloud hanging over them like there is now.
All of them are subdued when they finally get back inside their barracks, the door hissing shut.
"Live rounds!" yells Wrecker, throwing his helmet across the room and punching the worktable. "They used live rounds on us!"
"We know," Hunter tries to calm him. "We were there."
But it's hard to calm him when he himself doesn't feel very calm. "Who's that Imperial snake think he is?!" Wrecker rants, spinning around and scooping Hunter into a tight hug, nuzzling his neck, though he doesn't make any attempt to bite him. He's nearly trembling, and Hunter can feel his fear pouring into the Force.
"What'll we do now?" he asks, still hugging Hunter tightly, and after seeing that he isn't going to let go anytime soon, Hunter leans into the embrace, patting Wrecker's back and nuzzling against him, too. It's comforting.
"I don't know," he admits, his gaze sliding towards Echo and Tech. "I don't know what Tarkin will do to me now that he knows... what I am."
"Stars, Hunter, he could –" Echo chokes on the words, and suddenly, he's next to Hunter, leaning against him, wrapping his flesh arm around him as best he can given Wrecker's unyielding grip.
Despair assaults Hunter's shields, and he winces, tightening them. He knows it all too well, and he'd weighed the risks. "You know I'll do anything for you," he whispers to his brothers, as Tech crowds closer, gripping his shoulder.
"I don't know that it's safe here for us, for you," Tech states bluntly. "Tarkin could do anything."
Hunter looks at their youngest, who is lingering a short distance away, and the feeling of wrongness in his chest only grows. Ever since their transformations, Crosshair has often been the most tactile of all of them, much the way he used to be when they were younger. He's clingy and affectionate, and after he turned Hunter – Crosshair had been the first to be turned, by locals, on a mission to some obscure planet. He'd turned to Hunter when the hunger set in, though he hadn't realized what he was doing when he did it – he'd clung to him for hours, refusing to let go.
But now, Crosshair is lingering a distance away, and it puts Hunter on edge. "You – you wanna feed?" he asks, because he's not sure what's wrong, but feeding always helps Crosshair if he's struggling with something.
His jaw clenches, and he crosses his arms across his chest. "No." It's sharp, too sharp, and something is wrong, but Hunter doesn't know what.
"You sure?"
Crosshair's eyes narrow at the words and when Hunter continues to study him, a defiant anger in them, but it's not quite enough to mask the spark of hunger there, too. "Yes," he growls, anyway, and Hunter begins to disentangle himself from his brothers so he can go to Crosshair, to see what's wrong with him – maybe he doesn't want to tell anyone else?
But before he can, he senses the approach of people. "Someone's coming," he hisses, and instantly, their huddle is broken up as they pull apart to respectable distances. No need to let anyone know how much they enjoy cuddling – it's not something soldiers are supposed to do, after all.
An override code is used to open the door, and it's Tarkin who strides inside. He looks between them, head held high with a haughty superiority. "That was quite an impressive display," he remarks at last, the two Coruscant Guard troopers who came with him standing on either side of the door.
"Didn't have much choice," Hunter replies, an edge to his voice that he would never normally reveal, but he's angry. And scared. Someone figured out his secret, and he doesn't know who or how. They were all so careful.
"I merely wanted to see what you were capable of, and you did not disappoint," Tarkin explains, eyes focusing on Hunter. There's intrigue in his gaze, and it makes Hunter's skin crawl. He can almost see it now, the order to be taken away from his brothers, taken to the labs where they'll pick him apart to try and discern how he's capable of having Force sensitivity unlike the majority of clones. They're not considered human, even, so by that logic, they shouldn't be sensitive to the Force, either.
And most of them aren't. But Hunter is. Because he's a vampire, and should the Empire learn that secret, it will not be good for any of them. Probably, they'll never see the light of day again. Possibly, he might not, anyways.
"Did you want something from us?" he asks stiffly. The others are quiet, watchful. He's their spokesman, the one who always interacts with natborns and superiors, reg or otherwise, on behalf of the squad.
"You are no Jedi, and your... skillset could prove highly valuable to our new Empire," Tarkin replies arrogantly, and he then goes on to tell him about a mission that he has for them on Onderon. They are to deal with a group of insurgents there which sounds simple enough, but for some reason, it feels like a trap.
Hunter looks around their barracks after Tarkin goes, a strange feeling washing over him, one that leaves him feeling equally shaky and uneasy.
"Somethin' wrong, sarge?" asks Wrecker, the first to pick up on it, or at least the first to voice it.
He blows out a breath, shrugging one shoulder. "Dunno," he answers, brow furrowing as he tries to pick apart what the Force is telling him. "I just... It feels like... I'm not gonna see this place again."
Everyone stills, and the abrupt silence is so acute that even the smallest movement would feel like an explosion.
"We're going to be fine," Echo says, but he doesn't sound certain; he sounds a little scared, and he never sounds scared. "It's just... another mission, right?"
"I'm not sure," Hunter admits, going to his own bunk, running a hand lightly over it as he reaches down and withdraws the holopicture he keeps of all of them, flicking it on to look at it for a moment before turning it back off and looking up. All of them are watching him, expressions varying from concern to outright fear. "Something's going to happen." Of that, he is certain; he just doesn't know what it means.
"If we follow orders, we'll be fine," Crosshair says quietly, and his eyes are troubled, his gaze sliding away when Hunter looks at him. If he didn't know better, he would think that Crosshair feels... guilty about something, but that can't possibly be right. What would he have to feel guilty about?
"What about us?" Tech queries finally. "Do you think we'll be back here?"
Hunter frowns, reaching for the Force, but it's still dark, muddled, its currents elusive. "I'm... not sure." He's not getting a clear answer. It doesn't feel like a yes, but it doesn't feel like a no, either, so he doesn't really understand it.
"Well," Echo states, standing, "There's not much we can do about it. Maybe just... take the things we'll want most, in case something goes wrong, and we'll have to be careful."
Wrecker edges closer to him, eyes worried, and Hunter sighs, holding out a hand to him in invitation. Immediately, Wrecker burrows onto the bunk next to him, nuzzling closer and finally biting into his neck to feed. He finds it soothing. They all find it soothing, and sometimes, like right now, it's the only way to give each other the reassurance that they need. He's surprised Crosshair didn't beat Wrecker to it, especially from the distinct flare of longing that he senses from the sniper, but when he looks, Crosshair is meticulously cleaning his rifle, not looking at them.
Hunter needs to talk to him, needs to parse out what's bothering Crosshair so abruptly, but he – he doesn't quite know where to start, not when he suspects that part of the problem might be this... programming Tech was referring to.
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