Daemon

Author's Note: This isn't something I've ever done before, but I had a great deal of fun with it. ^-^

PS. This is for the square "Daemon AU" on the Bad Batch Bingo. And it's also for Day 8 of Haunted Clone Week. :D

~ Amina Gila


Hunter stays calm and still, at least as much as he can when he sees Crosshair standing on the other side of the ray shield. The nexu is hovering nearby him, tail swishing, red eyes narrowed as her gaze flickers from Hunter to Crosshair and back again. Crosshair doesn't speak as he deactivates the ray shield, gesturing sharply for Hunter to come with him.

The wolf at his side whines softly, pushing her nose against Hunter's chest again before she reluctantly gets to her feet, padding out of the cell after him. For a few moments, they just look at each other. It's been a while since Hunter has seen Crosshair's daemon, Vision, in her preferred nexu form, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss her. The daemons, unlike them, aren't affected by the chips' activation – or at least she hadn't been affected by it on Kamino, yowling at Crosshair the whole time to stop fighting them, and it had been Wrecker's daemon who took him down on Bracca to keep Omega safe.

"Hi," Vision says, tail swishing, her mouth moving into a nexu-smile. It still looks terrifying, but Hutner grew up with her, so he can read her expressions. She's glad to see them, and if he had to guess, she's still mad at Crosshair for staying with the Empire.

"Stop talking," Crosshair snaps at her.

"Or what?" she snips right back, flicking her tail to one side and deliberately nuzzling up against Kyr'a's side. Kyr'a is Hunter's daemon, his wolf, her name based off the Mando'a word for wolf. Not terribly creative, but hey, none of their daemon's have very creative names.

Hunter shivers at the feel of it, the abrupt softness of Crosshair's soul brushing up against his own, and he can see Crosshair flinch, too. It's too soon, when they've been apart for so long, but Vision is very… willful, and she does whatever she wants. She's fiercely protective, much like Crosshair, and she's got a tongue that can match his. They… really are quite a pair. When they get along, they are the most terrifying duo ever, and Hunter would be lying if he said them getting along doesn't scare him and Kyr'a more than them fighting.

Daemons aren't supposed to touch or be touched by others. They're said to be an extension of the soul and touching them is… very intimate. But the Batch have never been very conventional, and when they grew up together, it became common for them to, occasionally, touch each other's daemons. And their daemons have always been as close with each other as Hunter has been with his brothers. Of course, Vision is being all touchy right now. She must have missed them terribly.

"I missed you," she purrs, rubbing her head on Kyr'a's side.

"Me too," the wolf answers softly, gently pushing her back with her head. She's calm, like Hunter, and she understands that now really isn't the time or place for touching. It's still too soon, far too soon, especially after everything that's gone down between them and Crosshair.

Crosshair loads them onto a shuttle, and Hunter slides down to the floor, knees drawn up, resting his cuffed hands on them as Kyr'a curls around him, glaring fiercely at anyone who approaches, even Crosshair. Vision sprawls out on the floor not too far from them, slowly and deliberately licking her paws, as if she doesn't have a care in the world. Two guards stand inside the entrance, watching, but Vision doesn't care. She probably should, because her attitude will reflect on Crosshair, and for all that his brother might be against them, Hunter still cares if he gets hurt. He always will.

Crosshair goes to the cockpit while the shuttle takes off and makes the jump to hyperspace, hurtling them toward an unknown destination. Hunter has no idea where they're going, and he is not looking forward to it in the least. He doesn't want to think that Crosshair would hurt him, torture him, but… they all know what could happen to them if they get captured. And Crosshair has already proven that he'll hurt them. Hunter would be lying if he said he wasn't scared.

Through his bond with his daemon, he can feel her fear, too.

What do we do? She thought drifts into his bond, soft, but worried, and all he can do is lean against her helplessly with a small shrug. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what they even can do. Even – even if Vision could help them, it's not realistic to think they could escape, not with so many other troopers here, and not when they're undoubtedly being taken to a prison.

The doors to the cockpit open, and Hunter tenses instinctively as Crosshair enters the main hold. Kyr'a growls low in her throat, a warning, but she doesn't speak. Nor does Vision, though she's deliberately sprawled on the floor in front of Crosshair's feet, barring him from getting closer. He looks down at her, and somehow, Hunter gets the sense that he's annoyed, even though his expression remains neutral.

"Shoo," he says.

Vision carefully licks her paw again, ears flicking, ignoring him.

"Where are we going?" Hunter queries before they can start arguing.

Crosshair steps over Vision, nearly falling when she suddenly moves, half-tripping him. He spins, glowering at her, before moving forward and taking Hunter's comm carefully so his fingers don't brush against Kyr'a. "You'll find out soon enough," he replies cryptically, thumbing the device, "And so will your squad."

Immediately, Hunter understands. He's the bait. And once the others show up, because they will he knows, they'll all… be killed together. Probably. He can't let that happen. Vision perks up, the quills along her spine prickling as her ears lay back. Crosshair must see the way the two of them look at her, because he turns, visible irritation on his face.

"You know –" he starts, to her, but she's faster, jaws snapping at him as she lunges knocking the comm from his hands and stomping on it. It sparks beneath her paw, and for a moment, they all stare at each other in a frozen silence.

Hunter can see the rage that sweeps over his brother's face. "What is wrong with you?!" he demands sharply.

"You're welcome," snarls Vision, hackles raised. She looks moments from trying to rip his throat out. Hunter should probably… do something, calm her down. When she and Crosshair argued in the past, and they did, even if it was nothing like this, he and Kyr'a always had to step in to defuse the tensions. "I'm not gonna let you hurt the rest of our family."

"I'm not hurting them!" Crosshair argues, outraged. "That's the last thing I want to do!"

"How very defensive," she purrs, red eyes narrowing to slits, "And your wants are immaterial. Mine are. I don't want to be here, but you haven't listened to that any of the last five thousand times I've told you, have you?"

"Calm down," Kyr'a interjects, standing, stepping forward, her tail swishing restlessly. She doesn't like it when they fight anymore than Hunter does. "Just – settle down. Hurting yourselves won't change anything."

Crosshair visibly clamps his jaw shut, withholding any biting remarks, spinning toward the cockpit. Until he doesn't. "Well congratulations," he drawls, "If you were trying to protect them, you just guaranteed the opposite."

Vision sniffs, unmoved. "Must you always be so petty?"

Her only answer is the closing of the cockpit doors as Crosshair stomps off.

"Well," Vision says after a moment, lying back down on the floor, "That could have gone better."

"… You do realize he'll probably torture us, right?" Hunter points out dryly.

Vision flops her head dramatically onto her paws. "Not if I have a say in it." A pause. "Maybe I can make him regret all of his life's choices in the meantime though."

Before he can so much as offer of a very firm 'no', she crawls forward, dropping her head onto his lap. He yelps. He is not proud of that at all, but he does, and he shudders at the feel of Crosshair's soul touching him. Stars, it's weird, and he simultaneously wants to push her away and pull her closer. Without meaning to, his hand lands on her head to push her off – she should know better. She shouldn't be touching him, not like this, not at all. She wiggles closer, purring, and Hunter ends up petting her instead.

Okay, maybe he can be a little bit petty, too, because he knows that Crosshair will be feeling all of his, his daemon's contentment and satisfaction, the intimacy of the touch as a shadow on his own body, the way their souls are slotted together.

"Vision," Kyr'a says warningly, nudging Hunter's arm.

It would be easier to push Vision away if he didn't miss Crosshair so much, and Kyr'a knows that. She reaches out, teeth sinking into the back of Vision's neck as she pulls her off Hunter, gently but firmly. "Stay," she orders.

Vision's yowl is probably audible from here to Coruscant. "That's not fair!" she wails. "I never get petted anymore! You're so mean!"

Hunter just sighs, giving her a look that he's mastered from the many times he's had to deal with her or Crosshair or both throwing tantrums when they don't get their way. She pouts, a strange expression to see on a nexu, slinking into the corner and curling into a ball, making herself look as miserable as possible in the hopes that they'll back down and tell her to come back. Kyr'a nudges Hunter's head, settling next to him, but she doesn't relent anymore than Hunter does. There are things that just aren't done, and this is one of them. Vision can't use herself as a weapon against Crosshair. That's not fair to either of them.

At some point, she realizes they won't break, because she sits up. "I'm not gonna let you get hurt," she states importantly, hissing at the two troopers when they look at her.

"That isn't your decision, Vision," Kyr'a says tiredly. "Don't get hurt because of us."

She sulks. "He's so mean to me."

"Well, that means he's mean to himself, too, hm?" Hunter replies wryly.

"I'm not him!" Vision vows fiercely. "I'm not!"

"I know, but you're the other half of his soul," Kyr'a reminds, "So…" She shifts, an approximation of a shrug.

This is hurting all of them, though, and Hunter has no idea how to make it stop. He should. He's their leader. But he doesn't know any way to get Crosshair back, not when he's so alone. But maybe… maybe if he just lets Vision help, it'll be easier. If she's going to fight against Crosshair anyway, maybe it'll be best if he guides her, so they have a chance at doing this together. If they can take down the other troopers, and if they can knock Crosshair out, maybe they can commandeer a shuttle and take Crosshair somewhere where they can get his chip out. It would be foolish and risky, but it's better than doing nothing, right?

I know what you're thinking, Kyr'a whispers into his mind, and he reaches out, fingers digging into her brown-gray fur to get comfort. It's probably our only hope.

And that isn't grim or anything.

But then, if they're going to be tortured anyway, they might as well endure it after at least attempting to make it out of here.

Kyr'a shifts, her golden eyes staring down at Hunter before she pulls away from him and pads lightly across the hold to Vision, pressing her nose against the nexu's side. Hunter can feel the telepathic communication, one that most people are unaware is even possible with them. Usually, daemons are only able to communicate telepathically with their other half. But in the Batch's case, maybe because of how close they all are with one another, their daemons can also communicate with each other if they have physical contact. The only side effect of it is that the daemons' other halves can both hear it as well.

Which means Crosshair will know they're up to something. But so long as he doesn't warn the rest of his troopers, it won't matter.

I hope you're ready to make some chaos, Vision. Just follow my lead.

Hunter gives her an approving nod at the message as she pulls away and moves back to his side. It's a short message, succinct, and though Crosshair will know to watch them more closely, it also means that Vision will be ready to act as well. With the three of them against him and his squad, Hunter is… a little bit optimistic about their chances. He can hope, at any rate.

Vision purrs an enthusiastic agreement. The troopers probably just think she's giving into her animal instincts rather than actually plotting treason which is exactly what they want them to think. They could try and attack the troopers now, but… Hunter doesn't know if that's a good idea. Even if they can get control of the shuttle and safely bring it out of hyperspace, where could they go? They need a medical facility where they can get out Crosshair's chip. But waiting could be even worse. If they end up in a facility surrounded by troops, how would they ever get out there?

His quandary is answered when Crosshair exits the cockpit, eyes narrowed and furious, rifle in his hands. There's a tranquilizer dart loaded into it, and the barrel is aimed at Kyr'a. It won't hurt her, necessarily, but it will definitely knock her out. And Hunter, by default. Because of their daemons, it's far harder for them to be knocked out via stunbolts or even injuries. The pain and damage is somehow shared, making them far harder to neutralize. A dart like that will knock out Kyr'a and take Hunter down with her. Their wake and sleep cycles are linked, so neither of them can be awake if the other isn't.

And Crosshair knows that, so he'll shoot if they give him reason to.

Fine.

Then they can wait until they arrive.

The rest of the trip is tense, to say the least, with Crosshair's rifle aimed unerringly at Kyr'a. His hands are steady, and Hunter knows that he can stay in that same position for hours. It's hard to relax, impossible to relax, and for the rest of the trip, tension coils in his shoulders. Even Vision is surprisingly quiet, wary gaze flickering from Crosshair to Hunter to Kyr'a and back again. No one speaks, and the tension in the ship could be cut with a vibroblade.

Finally, the shuttle touches down, and they're escorted down the ramp onto the all-too-familiar floors of the hangar bay on Kamino. Wonderful. Exactly where he'd hoped they'd go. Not. Kamino is familiar territory to them, and it's also the best place to lay an ambush for the rest of the Batch if they come. Which they won't, hopefully, because they have no way of tracking him here. Small mercies, at least, because Hunter has no doubt that they would come for him, no matter how foolish or reckless. He's their leader, the one in charge of them, the one who directs them. Without him, they're far more likely to do something incredibly rash.

Kyr'a follows him, almost touching his side as Rampart comes out to greet them, exchanging a few words with Crosshair, who assures him that he'll find the others before long.

And Hunter knows what that means. Torture. Force, please, he is not ready for this. He never will be. He never thought – never dreamed he could end up here, facing Crosshair as an enemy, being tortured by him. Will Crosshair even care, under the chip? Does he realize what he's doing? Will he even be phased if – when Hunter screams? On Bracca, Wrecker hadn't stopped even when Omega tried to talk to him, from what Hunter heard from Rex. Wrecker hadn't stopped for anything. He hadn't stopped when he was strangling Hunter, either, and if not for Omega, he would have died there. Is it like that for Crosshair, too?

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. All he knows is that Crosshair is… different than Wrecker. Wrecker was seemingly mindless. Crosshair, at least, seems able to reason. Maybe if Hunter tries talking to him, that will be enough?

Doubtful, but he can hope.

Crosshair leads, pushes actually, them deeper into the facility, and that's when the prickles of unease start working their way down Hunter's spine. It's too quiet, too empty. "Where are all the regs?" The words are out of his mouth before he can think twice about them.

"When did you start caring about them?" Crosshair sneers.

Hunter ignores that, focusing on his senses, on what they're telling him.

"The facility is being decommissioned," Vision pipes up, loping along at their side, occasionally giving Crosshair an evil glare.

Crosshair throws her a dirty look, one that Hunter can see even with the helmet on. He jerks his head towards the four accompanying troopers. "Take her back to the barracks."

Vision digs her claws into the floor, hissing and snarling, the spikes along her spine standing up, tail flicking violently. "Absolutely not."

"That wasn't a request."

"Good," she snarls back. "I'm not taking any requests from you. My answer is no!"

"Get a rope. Drag her," Crosshair orders.

"Touch me, and I'll rip your faces off," she threatens the troopers, and they pause in their movements, looking between her and Crosshair, obviously uncertain what to do. Her lithe, pale gray – mixed with some faint patterns of brown – body is tensed, coiled and ready to strike.

It makes Hunter hurt, like something reached into his chest and crushed his heart. It's wrong, and he instinctively leans closer to Kyr'a, resting his head on her neck as she stands next to him, daring to move even though he can feel the pressure of Crosshair's blaster against his back. No one should fight with their daemon. It's unthinkable. They're – they're part of a whole, pieces of the same soul. They don't fight. It's wrong, against the order of things. There's nothing that can compare with the feeling of working in sync with a daemon. Nothing.

Even for everything Crosshair has done to them, even though he's hurt them and threatened them and tried to kill them, Hunter still feels bad for him. Crosshair and Vision were always close, even for all that they bickered. Their fights were playful, not like this, not filled with malice and the desire to hurt one another. Their soul is being torn asunder, and Hunter doesn't know how much more it can take before something… worse happens. Like what, he doesn't know, but there are stories, of people who turned against their daemons and lost them. They withered away into nothing, a mere shadow of their former selves. It was… horrific, something Tech intentionally terrorized them about one night on Kamino – in his defense, Crosshair and Wrecker wanted to hear a scary story.

He doesn't want anything to happen to Crosshair.

It's a sobering realization, especially given that Crosshair will hurt him without a second thought. But it didn't always use to be like this. Looking at his brother now is like looking at a stranger, and that hurts too.

"Move her," Crosshair orders between gritted teeth, the blaster pressing a little harder into Hunter's back. He keeps his face blank, unwilling to show any emotion at that – or any of this. Stars, his body aches. Falling off the side of a mountain is no joke. He has the strong feeling that everything is about to blow up. Majorly. He knows Vision and Crosshair, and how stubborn they can both be. Neither of them will give in, so this will get violent fast.

Vision growls, low in her throat, a warning, and she looks every inch the predator that Hunter knows she can be. Kyr'a stiffens at Hunter's side, tail moving restlessly as she tries to decide how to handle this. There's gonna be a fight, she whispers to him. Maybe this is our chance.

And she has a point. Hunter refuses to get himself tortured without first putting up at least a token fight, just to send a message. Torture is in their future, and with Kamino mostly empty, there's just Crosshair and his four squad members here. Three against five. Those are good odds, even if Crosshair is against them.

Couldn't hurt, he answers, even as he can feel the blaster digging into his back.

They'll just have to time it right.

It all happens so fast. One of the troopers steps toward Vision, obviously hesitant, hands tight on his blaster, and she lunges for him, jaws snapping. The hallway explodes into motion. Kyr'a springs at the trooper who goes for Vision, and Hunter spins around, taking advantage of Crosshair's momentary hesitation to push the end of the blaster away from him, trying to wrestle it away. It's not easy with his hands cuffed, and they end up crashing onto the floor as they struggle.

Crosshair twists away from him, blaster having skittered away across the floor, slamming his shoulder into Hunter's chest, sending him crashing into the wall. His head hits it, and he staggers, a little stunned, wishing he still had his helmet.

As Hunter watches, trying to recover himself, Crosshair goes for his rifle, taking aim at Kyr'a with the tranquilizer dart, ready to take her down. Hunter lunges for him, but Vision is faster, tackling Crosshair to the floor, snarling, her muzzle red with blood. He tries not to think about how fast and easy it was for the two daemons to rip out the throats of the other troopers, leaving their dead bodies lying on the floor, blood pooling beneath them.

Somehow, Crosshair manages to shove her off, kicking her in the chest, eliciting a yelp, and then, he rolls to his feet, blaster in hand, leveling it with Kyr'a's head.

They all freeze.

If he shoots, the blaster bolt will go through her skull. It could kill her, kill both of them.

"Crosshair," Hunter says warily, fear seizing him in an unyielding grip, "Put down the blaster. You don't want to do this. It could kill us."

His brother scoffs. "Will it?" he asks snidely. "You don't know that. It was never tested." He's not wrong, because daemons can sustain injuries that would kill the person bonded to them, but it would be foolish to take that risk.

His heart is pounding, and it's as though the blaster is aimed at him. Crosshair wouldn't do it, would he? Would he? Hunter wants to say no, but he can't, not anywhere, and even though he knows it's not Crosshair's fault, he can't help or bury the rising feelings of bitterness, betrayal, and anger.

"Crosshair," he says again, helplessly. He doesn't know what to say to him, and the last thing he wants to do is provoke him enough to shoot. Kyr'a's fear is feeding his own, and her wide, gold eyes are afraid, wary.

"No," Crosshair bites out. "Listen to me. Hunter, I'm giving you a chance, a chance you never gave me. You can come back. It's not too late. Rampart knows how skilled you are. This is what we were made for. You don't need to keep living as a fugitive, on the run. Think of what we can do together. We were brothers once. We can be again if you make the right choice."

He doesn't look away from Kyr'a as he talks, but his every word is directed at Hunter, hammering into him. Hunter slowly clenches his hands, looking between his brother and the daemons. Crosshair… wants him to join the Empire? Ha. Not likely, and he couldn't hide his disbelief even if he tried. He can't even pretend to consider it, but if Crosshair is capable of that much reasoning, no matter how twisted, maybe he's capable of reasoning his way out of the chip's influence enough to stand down so Hunter can get the chip out.

"I've seen what the Empire's doing, occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right," Hunter replies, going for gentle and reasonable. Always, he's had to be the reasonable one of his brothers, the one who keeps them from being too irrational. But never before has it been like this, with him having to talk one of them down from hurting him. Maybe even killing him.

If Hunter could see Crosshair's face, he imagines he'd see his scowl deepen, especially from the way the end of the blaster inches toward Kyr'a's face. "You can't see the bigger picture."

"This isn't you!" he retorts, more sharply than he meant to, because that's his daemon, his soul, and Crosshair is threatening her. She's terrified. He's terrified. It's not an ideal way to be trying to talk Crosshair down. He's so, so scared, and that fear is rapidly turning into white-hot anger mingled with panic. "It's your inhibitor chip. I know you don't want to kill us… right?" He hates the uncertainty that slips into the end of his sentence, but he can't help it. Once, he thought he understood Crosshair. But then this happened, and he just – doesn't know anymore.

Crosshair doesn't answer, almost seeming torn, and that simultaneously makes Hunter more afraid and gives him something of a reassurance. If Crosshair isn't immediately jumping to say he's a traitor that should be put down, then there's something in there of the brother Hunter remembers. He can hope.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Vision carefully creeping towards Crosshair's fallen rifle. His back is to her so he can't see what she's doing, and Hunter pointedly keeps his eyes on Crosshair, so he can't tell something is up by looking at him. "If you hurt them," Vision hisses, her paw landing on the tranquilizer dart that's fallen from the rifle and is lying on the floor next to it, "I'll never forgive you." She pulls it back so it's resting at her feet. Crosshair must be able to sense that she's up to something, but she's been quiet enough that he won't have any warnings or ideas as to what that something is.

"I assure you," Crosshair replies coldly, "That is not my decision. I gave Hunter a choice."

Vision delicately wraps her jaws around the end of the syringe, lifting it, and Hunter realizes what she's planning. She's so brave and determined and protective, just like Crosshair used to be when defending them. He moves his head slightly in acknowledgement when she looks at him. "And I'm giving you a choice, Crosshair," he says, to cover the sound of Vision's movements, "You can let me help you."

And then, Vision tilts her head, driving the end of the dart into her foreleg, the impact causing the tranquilizer within it to be released. She staggers as it hits her, dropping to the floor. Kyr'a reacts instantly, too, shifting forms, and her brown and gray-spotted tooka form races across the floor to duck behind Hunter as the blaster in Crosshair's hand fires.

Hunter doesn't know if it was actually intentional or if it was an instinctual reaction from having his finger so snuggly on the trigger when the weakness hit him from Vision. He doesn't want to think it was intentional, but he can't deny that it's a possibility. It hurts. Kyr'a brushes up against his leg, purring, and it's only then that he can relax a little since they aren't both about to possibly die.

"What did you do?" Crosshair demands, spinning around, though he wavers unsteadily on his feet, fighting to stay conscious.

"No regrets," Vision rasps, ears twitching. She, on the other hand, is not fighting to stay conscious, and it's showing in the way Crosshair staggers a step and then falls.

Hunter waits until he's out of it before blowing out a breath, shoulders slumping. "C'mon," he says to Kyr'a, "Let's get him to the medbay, but first, can you get these off."

She rubs her head on his ankle before stepping away from him and changing herself into a rancor, the same size as Doom, Wrecker's daemon. Reaching out carefully, she digs her claws into the cuffs on Hunter's wrists, crushing the metal. They fall off, and he rubs his wrists, relieved to have his hands free. While she changes back into her normal wolf form, Hunter retrieves his vibroblade from Crosshair's pack, sliding it into its sheath and taking Crosshair's blaster, putting it into his holster – he lost his own blaster on Daro.

He pats Kyr'a's nose before sliding his helmet back on – Crosshair dropped it at the beginning of their fight – stepping around the puddles of blood on the floor as he hoist's Crosshair's body over his shoulder, waiting for Kyr'a to get Vision before they take off. He can't help the shiver that goes through him at the feel of their souls touching, but he doesn't have time to think about it right now. They need to get Crosshair's chip out and escape Kamino before the Empire sends more troops after them.

Thankfully, it's relatively easy to get to the medbay without being stopped. Operating the machine is a little harder, but he manages because there's no choice. Normally, this is something that Tech or Echo would do, and since they're not here, that task falls to Hunter. It takes longer, much longer, than it would have taken them, and Hunter's heart is pounding way too fast in his chest, his fingers trembling as he pushes the controls. If he messes this up, Crosshair could die.

He does not mess it up, but it still seems to take far too long for Crosshair to awaken from the surgery.

When he groans, weakly, Hunter hates that his first instinct is to tense and reach for his blaster. Kyr'a presses into his side, nuzzling him, trying to comfort him or get comfort, though it does little to calm the fear they both feel. "Crosshair?" he ventures when his brother only lays there, a hand reaching up to grip his head.

"You're here," he rasps, hand falling down to his side, slowly opening his eyes and turning his head toward Hunter. His eyes are a bit glazed, and he's blinking, trying to fully awaken. "I thought – thought it might have been… a dream."

Hunter frowns, tucking his helmet under his arm, hand falling from the blaster. "What?" he asks, stepping closer, uncertain.

Crosshair blinks again. "Where am I?"

"You're in the medbay," Kyr'a replies, golden eyes narrowed and wary, "On Kamino. We took your chip out."

"How do you feel?" Hunter queries.

"… I don't know."

Vision pushes herself to her feet unsteadily, shaking herself. "We should leave," she says bluntly, "Before the Empire sends someone out to look for us. We're in no condition to be fighting."

"Can you walk?" Hunter asks, looking at Crosshair.

He slowly sits up, wincing and rubbing his head again. "Yeah, I think so."

Wordlessly, Hunter hands him his helmet, but not any weapons. Until he can trust that Crosshair won't turn on him, he can't give him a weapon. He needs to focus on getting out, and that means not giving his brother the means to hurt him if he's still… not himself.

… Or maybe Crosshair is himself. Maybe Hunter never really knew him.

He brushes that thought aside quickly, though, when he thinks of how Vision has been acting. She's the same. If Crosshair wasn't who he thought, she wouldn't be, either. But she is. So that means Crosshair must be, too. Still, trusting him again won't be easy, not when he can so clearly remember the blaster pointed at Kyr'a's head.

They need to talk. Badly. But they can't talk until they're in a safe place, hopefully far from here. Crosshair follows as they exit the medbay. Hunter pauses, looking around, but it's just as deserted as it was when they came. "Hopefully there's a shuttle in the hangar," he says, a bit wryly, "Or I'm not sure how we'll be getting out."

"I was supposed to leave," Crosshair states, "Once I had the squad." His voice is neutral, so Hunter can't quite tell how he feels. Vision glances at him sharply, but she, too, doesn't speak. They don't have time for emotions right now anyway, so Hunter tucks back the lingering fear and anger and betrayal, trying to focus on what's important: escaping.

"So then there should be a shuttle," he deduces. "If we can get to it."

If is a good word.

Crosshair shifts. "Yeah."

They take off through the halls, running, Hunter keeping a hand on his blaster just in case they need it, their daemons racing along with them, half behind and half beside them, though he doesn't miss the way Vision stays further from Crosshair than Kyr'a is staying from him. Maybe now that Crosshair is free, he and his daemon can mend the rift between them.

Getting to the hangar is simple, and they get there without running into anyone. But when Hunter glances inside, he sees two troopers standing guard over a lone shuttle, the only one left. He could probably take them down himself, but there might be a pilot there, too, inside, and it's probably best not to take the chance, not if the only reason is to keep a weapon out of Crosshair's hands. … Of course, that weapon could be turned on him, too.

"There's two troopers there," Hunter murmurs to Crosshair and their daemons.

A pause.

"Will you give me my rifle back?" Crosshair queries. Hunter took Crosshair's pack and his rifle when he took him to the medbay, and maybe he should give it to him – it would make this easier – but he can't help but tense at the mere thought. And that's something that none of them miss, certainly not Crosshair with his keen eyesight.

He sighs, quietly, but still loud enough for Hunter to hear. "Hunter, I…" He hesitates, and that in and of itself is so unlike Crosshair that Hunter turns his full focus to him. "I know you probably don't trust me," he says finally, "But right now, we have a common enemy."

Do we? He wants to ask, but doesn't, and slowly, though his fingers fumble, he unslings the rifle, wordlessly handing it to Crosshair. His heart is racing, and he can feel the fear and panic creeping up, but he forces himself not to flinch when Crosshair takes the weapon from him.

And together, they spin around the corner, Hunter taking out one trooper and Crosshair the other.

The hangar is quiet, almost eerily so, as they approach the shuttle. There's no one here, not other than the two dead troopers, and it's unnatural enough to make Hunter shiver. He doesn't like it. He doesn't like any of this.

What is the Empire planning to do with Kamino?

That's not a question he can stay around to find an answer to, and he slides into the pilot's seat, hands flying over the controls as he fires up the engines, Crosshair joining him in the cockpit and helping. This, at least, is familiar, very much so, and it's easy to momentarily lose himself in taking off from the hangar bay on Kamino, Crosshair at his side, helping him fly. The shuttle angles sharply toward the freedom of space, and his heart is in his throat as he goes, as they approach the three Star Destroyers which are, strangely, dropping into the planet's atmosphere. Something's going to happen, and he can feel it, but the Empire is more focused on whatever they're planning than the escaping shuttle, so once they make it into space, they're free to go.

Hunter breathes out shakily as he pulls the lever to send them into hyperspace to a random destination. Even though they removed all tracking devices, he's still going to make a few jumps, giving him enough time to talk to Crosshair before deciding if he should take him to Ord Mantell to meet up with the others. He's never going to leave Crosshair on his own, but he won't take a threat back to the others, either. He'll… figure it out if it's a problem.

For a few minutes, they're quiet, the hum of the engines providing a somewhat soothing background noise. Crosshair clears his throat, drawing Hunter's attention. "Where are we going?" His helmet is off, resting on his leg, and his expression is impassive, though somewhat contemplative.

Hunter hesitates. "I'm not sure," he answers. "Right now, we're just going to lose anyone tracking us." Keenly, he remembers what Crosshair said earlier, the I know you probably don't trust me echoing in his mind. He hates how true it is.

Crosshair nods, slightly. "I – I'm sorry. I know…" His voice trails off, and there's a flicker of frustration on his face that Hunter might not have seen if he wasn't watching him. "It feels like everything has changed," he settles on, at last.

Hunter huffs, because yeah, he feels it, too, and slowly, he pulls off his own helmet, setting it aside, all too aware of the restless movements of their daemons behind them. "It does," he agrees. "What do you want to do now?"

Crosshair's expression shutters. "… I don't know."

Vision sticks her head forward, ears twitching. "I want to go back to our family," she says brightly.

Kyr'a makes a soft, amused sound. "We know."

Yes, of that, there was never any doubt. But Crosshair… It's different for him. He was the one who had an active inhibitor chip that turned him against them, and even now, Hunter isn't sure what he wants or how he feels. He doesn't know if everything that happened from Kaller was the chip, or if part of it was Crosshair, too. They don't know how the chips work. Wrecker had been so irrational on Bracca. He'd have to ask Tech about it, but Tech isn't here. He doesn't want to contact them until he knows it's safe.

"It's… I don't know," Crosshair repeats, an edge entering his tone. "I was so… angry, that you left me there," he explains, but even as he speaks, Hunter can hear the anger creeping back in, the hurt. He might not be saying it right now, but he's still upset. "That was something we never did. And it makes sense now, I understand it, but… I'm still angry. I had orders to kill you, and I didn't want to, but it made sense at the time, so I…" He shrugs. "I followed orders. That's the one thing we were taught to obey above anything. And then Ryloth happened, and Rampart took an interest in you. I asked to hunt you down. Recruit you. I thought that… maybe if I could find you, it would… help."

Hunter only half understands it, what Crosshair's trying to say. He imagines that Crosshair only half understands it, too. "I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I know we all made a lot of mistakes. I was looking out for the squad, and I…" He trails off. "I never wanted to leave you, but trying to go back would have been… too dangerous."

Crosshair makes a face. "I know," he replies, sullen. "I had orders to kill you, and then capture you. I wouldn't have gone willingly."

Hunter thinks he can hear the but you could still have got me on the tip of his tongue, but then, that might be his own guilt speaking. Force knows how much it gutted him to know that Crosshair and Vision were out there alone, with the Empire, a place they wouldn't have wanted to be of their own free will.

"I… hurt you," he continues slowly, "And I – I regret it. If I had the choice now, I wouldn't – do it." There's more there, though, that he isn't saying, but Hunter can guess at it readily enough.

"But you're still angry?" he guesses. "You still want to hurt me even though you'd never carry through with it?"

Crosshair grimaces, looking away. "It sounds bad when you put it like that," he murmurs, but he doesn't deny it, either. "It's –" He scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't know. Having Vision constantly after me, accusing me, it hurt. It – made it worse, I think, the anger."

Vision steps forward, and Hunter shoots out a hand to keep her back. Right now, Crosshair needs to be able to talk. If she interjects, even with an apology, it won't help. "Yeah," Hunter acknowledges, trying to fathom it. He's never been like that. He's never – felt like that. He's never felt the need or even desire to hurt his brothers. For him, it's always been about protecting them, keeping them safe. He's always sacrificed himself and his own comforts or needs or feelings over them. Always.

"We can meet up with the others, if that's alright with you," he proposes, because he'll be wary around Crosshair for a while probably, but now, he feels so much more settled than he did before. The fear isn't there the way it used to be, the way it was when they were still on Kamino.

Crosshair hesitates, gaze sliding to Hunter. "It's fine," he says at last, "'M not gonna hurt them. I'm me again." A pause. "I hardly knew the difference, though. Even with the chip, it all made so much sense, and I…" He shakes his head. "I don't know." His eyes silently plead with Hunter to understand, the way he always used to, and Hunter reaches out before he thinks about it, taking Crosshair's hand and squeezing it.

"Talk to me," he requests. "If something is bothering you or hurting you or making you angry, just – talk to me, okay?"

Crosshair dips his head and squeezes back. "I will." It's a whisper, so low that Hunter hardly hears it, or wouldn't have if not for his hearing. "I promise."

"If you – if you need someone to hurt, I'm always down for a sparring match." He smirks a little, though it feels forced, a heavy weight settling in his chest and crushing. "Don't think I won't haver a problem with putting you back in your place." He tries for levity, but it feels like it falls flat. Still, it startles a laugh out of Crosshair.

"If I want to be humiliated, I'll just go to Wrecker," he deadpans. "You know he's never had a problem with pinning me down if I get out of hand."

Oh yes, the two of them always had their playful wrestling matches, primarily when they were younger. There was never any doubt about Wrecker winning. Of course, there was the time when it got way out of hand when they started tickling each other and the entire facility nearly heard all the screaming. But that was a loooong time ago, and he somehow doubts that would happen now. … Probably. With Omega around, it's hard to tell.

They share a quiet laugh, and for the first time, the atmosphere in the cockpit actually feels… comfortable.

Seemingly sensing the end of the conversation, Kyr'a presses her nose into Hunter's side, barking softly, and he strokes a hand through her fur, watching as Vision creeps forward, staring up at Crosshair. Their eyes lock in a probably-telepathic conversation, whether of words or feelings, before Crosshair's expression softens, and he holds out a hand – the one not holding Hunter's – for her. Purring happily, she nuzzles against it, draping herself across his feet.

Everything can't be solved or healed in a single rotation or a single conversation, but this, Hunter thinks, is a very good start. They have Crosshair back, and that… is something.

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