Chapter 3 - Endings
Author's Note: The first thing I'm doing from Hunter's POV because I thought it might be sorta cute –
~ Rivana Rita
He didn't mean to yell at his brothers. He never does. But they had orders, and they should've followed them. Hunter told them to follow them, but they refused and...
It wasn't his fault. It feels like it.
It's hard to think about anything with the pain lancing through his head as it has been ever since Kaller, hard to think of anything save the constant blurring whisper of good soldiers follow orders and a good leader protects his squad and Hunter isn't doing either of those right now.
He should have pushed harder, should have made them do it anyway. If he had, they wouldn't be here, and they wouldn't be... what? Waiting for execution? He should've stopped it.
He should've –
Done it anyway. But he didn't, because his brothers insisted, and he's angry. Refusing means they're traitors. And there's an outlandish part of his mind demanding that they be... put down for it. His brothers are why all of them failed every mission they've been on since Kaller – including Kaller.
"You're angry," Omega's quiet voice says beside him, and he jolts slightly, turning to look down at her.
It startles him back to presence. He's not angry at her, even if he doesn't want to talk to her either. She was willing to stand up for them. Any other time, it might've made him... something. He's not sure. Of course, I am, a part of him wants to snap, but Omega doesn't deserve his anger. "How do you know?" he asks instead.
"You're always calm," she answers, as if she could somehow know that. "You don't yell."
And how do you know that? a part of him wants to ask, but he... doesn't. He doesn't know her – she shouldn't know this. But there is something familiar about her. Something about her scent and the feel of her heartbeat is... familiar. If he didn't know better, he could swear he knew her.
"I know what you're going to do, but please don't," she says, softly.
Hunter turns to look at her – really look at her – for what feels like the first time. How could you know, he wants to ask, when not even I do? Instead, he says nothing.
"It's not your fault," she offers, reaching up to lay her hand on his arm. Something about that, too, is so familiar – tugging at something in his mind, a strange distant impression of gentle hands touching him, but it's gone in a flash, replaced by Omega's small form. "You can't help it."
Can't help what he's about to ask. That he couldn't lead his own squad, the brothers he grew up with, and fulfill his sole responsibility? It's not his only one though – goodsoldiersfolloworders –
The cell door in front of them slides open, and the regs are standing there. "CT-9901, you're coming with us," the one in front says, and his brothers are already halfway to their feet.
But they've done enough fighting orders, and if one of them is going to be in trouble for it, it deserves to be Hunter. He waves to them to hold back and stands, stepping outside the cell.
The door hisses shut behind him.
And somehow... somehow, it feels like he won't be going back.
**w**
No one's said anything since Hunter left. Frankly, there's not much to say. Unless they can think of a way out... they likely won't make it past these walls.
They shouldn't have come back. Crosshair refuses to accept the very real possibility that not all of them will make it off – they have to. They've always been together. Always had each other.
"I got it," Tech says suddenly, looking up. "Why didn't I think of it before? This is not a prison."
"Yeah, well, I beg to differ," Echo grumbles.
"This is a Kaminoan facility. It was built prior to the Clone Wars. There were no barracks or prisons when it was constructed," Tech continues. "While these cells were retrofitted to hold normal individuals, they could not possibly account for someone like Wrecker."
Wrecker instantly jumps to his feet excitedly. "Oh! You mean I could punch our way out?" He's talking loud enough that the regs pause to look at them.
"Quieter," Echo cautions. "They'll hear you."
"Oh, right," Wrecker says, dropping his voice into something at least mildly acceptable. "You mean I could punch our way out?"
"If you punch the correct spot," Tech answers.
"Show me where," he replies, already visibly gleeful at the thought of getting to hit something again. Considering the circumstances, Crosshair can relate. Really.
"We need some cover," Crosshair points out.
And they have none, because the room was specifically designed in a way to ensure the guards can see everything in it.
"Form a wall," Echo says, standing and moving to the part of the ray shield that opens into a door. Crosshair stands beside him, and Omega jumps up, moving to stand beside Crosshair, even if her small form does very little to add to it. Behind them, he hears Tech and Wrecker moving to the wall.
"Tell me when," Wrecker requests, and Tech moves to stand beside Omega.
The door opens and another reg enters with a datapad and begins conversing with the other two. "Now," Echo says, not breaking his gaze which is pinned on the door.
There's a crash from behind them and the regs pause, looking up.
Everyone stills until they look away, whereupon Wrecker groans. "Nothing happened."
"Try it again," Tech replies nonchalantly, unphased. "A little harder."
"Now?" Wrecker asks, hesitating.
Crosshair is well accustomed to waiting for hours at a time to pull his shots. He was trained for that, but right now, their lives are on the line. They have to find Hunter and get out of here – even if he's not entirely certain their brother will be too keen on leaving. But for all they know, if they don't hurry, he may not be there to leave. "Yes."
The crash behind him is louder, harder this time. The guards eye them for a few seconds longer this time before returning to looking at the datapad.
"Oh, it still didn't work," Wrecker groans.
Tech turns to look at the wall. "Oh yes, it did," he replies, "Look."
There's a sound behind them again, and Crosshair glances over his shoulder – Tech is pulling back a small section of the wall.
"I'll never fit through that!" Wrecker objects.
"Astute as always, Wrecker, but I was actually going to suggest –"
"I'll do it," Omega declares firmly, stepping forwards.
A part of him whispers that this is a child, one who knows nothing about fighting, nothing about any of this, and by helping her out, they'll be dragging her into this. But she said she wanted to stay with them, and Omega already made it obvious that she won't let them push her away. Hunter already tried, and he failed.
"The middle lever on the console should lower the ray shields," Echo tells her, and she nods, crawling through the opening. Tech and Wrecker close it over her. And from here, it'll only be a matter of moments before the regs know something's wrong.
The regs start approaching, then pause when they realize Omega is absent. "Wait, where's the girl?" the center one holding a datapad demands.
"You were sent here to guard us," Crosshair throws back.
"Harm her, and you're a dead man," Echo growls.
"Operations, we need a status report on prisoner 0219," the reg says into his comm.
Above them, the grate shifts slightly, screeching. Omega must've reached it already.
"What was that?" one of the regs asks, and they all look up.
"Sorry," Wrecker calls loudly before they can spot her. He's sitting in front of the hole in the wall, blocking it from view with his giant size. "These floors don't hold me so well on account of them not being designed for abnormal individuals such as myself."
Tech facepalms in exasperation. Crosshair scoffs quietly, and Echo just keeps on glaring at the regs. Wrecker is good at getting people angry, at least, though he's getting far too close to explaining exactly what they did do.
"What's behind you?" the reg demands, raising his blaster. All three of them are moving forwards now, blasters raised threateningly. Good.
"Nothing," Wrecker replies nonchalantly, leaning against the wall.
"Move away from the wall. Now."
Wrecker moves forwards, expression twisting from bored and amused to a nasty glare. "Why don't you come here and make me?"
"Copy that," the reg says into his comm, "The girl's still registered on lockdown." He turns back to them. "Tell us where she is."
That's when there's a thump and a screech from above, and Omega falls down atop the grate, right onto the regs' heads.
"Get the switch," Crosshair calls to her, and she rolls off the grate and runs to the console, yanking down the lever, and not a moment too soon. The grate only knocked out one of the regs; the other two are already standing, and one of them runs to Omega, picking her up from behind.
Wrecker is the first out of the cell, knocking out the guard holding her with a punch to the head. Tech grabs one of the dropped blasters and stuns the others, while Echo takes the datapad. They don't have enough weapons here, nor the right kinds, but it's better than nothing.
"Not bad," Wrecker praises, patting Omega's shoulder. She's breathing hard, but she looks alright, though she's radiating visible excitement.
Normally, they would turn to Hunter for orders, except he's not here. They've always been together, though they still know how to handle this. Even so, Crosshair finds himself looking to the eldest of them.
"We have to hurry," Echo says, seeing their looks, "The guards will be up soon, and they'll call reinforcements."
"Are we... gonna find Hunter?" Omega asks, looking up at him.
"We had best secure the Marauder first," Tech replies, moving for the door. Crosshair goes in front, scanning the halls for hostilities. "Though we're not going to get very far without our gear."
"They started moving all your things to the hangar. Your gear might be there too," Omega offers, looking up at them.
That's somewhere to start anyway.
**w**
Wrecker spends half the time in the hangar fussing over not seeing Lula until Tech tells him to get Hunter's gear on board, because they'll never have time for him to get it before leaving, before boarding the ship himself to get the engines running. There's no doubt they'll have to make a fast escape.
And now is the next biggest question: where and how will they find Hunter? They don't even know where to look.
"Hey," Wrecker says, coming down the ramp, "Now what do we do? Where do we find Hunter?"
"Maybe I can find something if I scomp into the system," Echo suggests.
"I don't think we'll have to go far," Omega says, something slightly fearful in her voice. Crosshair glances at her – the girl is holding Lula close, eyes fixed on the door.
The hangar doors slide open with a whoosh of air, and everyone instantly ducks out of sight behind the crates. Somehow, she knew. She shouldn't have known someone was coming until the door opened.
He looks over the top of the crates, staying down to avoid the blaster fire that's sure to start in moments. There's a group of regs and... Hunter?
"Is that Hunter?" Wrecker asks, poking his head over the edge of the crates.
It undeniably is, though he's dressed in all black, and it looks so wrong on him. Only his weapons are the same – the blaster on his right thigh and the vibroblade strapped to his left arm. But there's a strange wildness, an anger in his eyes that is nothing like the brother Crosshair has grown up with. Even the way he's walking looks wrong. It looks... empty. Dead.
But this is Hunter, and it's instinctive for them all to lower their weapons just a bit and stand. Wrecker is the first to stand, followed by Crosshair. Hesitantly, slower, Echo rises from his crouch, though none of them put down their weapons yet – not until they know it's safe.
Considering the regs are spread across the hangar, their own blasters aimed, it's not going to be safe.
And none of this makes sense. They're prisoners, so why is Hunter here?
"Stand down," Hunter orders sharply. He's not holding his blaster, though the hand not holding a helmet – that would also look wrong on him – is much too close to it.
"What's happening?" Wrecker asks, though he doesn't move to put down his blaster.
"You're traitors," the sergeant replies – is that what he still is with the Empire? "Surrender."
For a long moment, no one moves.
And for the first time in his life, Crosshair genuinely has no idea what to do.
Clones were never trained to question orders. They all have in the past, but it was never anything like this. Their orders were never blatantly wrong. And to have Hunter standing here against them, ordering them to surrender to the Empire, to stay with it – he has no idea what to do. They have never refused an order from Hunter before. They have never had to.
But they cannot stay with the Empire – there's not even a question of that, after they know what happened on Onderon was intentional.
But Hunter is their older brother, who's watched their backs from the time they were little – really, throughout their entire lives – and they have never had a reason to question his orders.
Instincts tell him to follow Hunter's orders as they always have. All of them respect him, look up to him as their leader. To refuse that is... it feels wrong.
But there's nothing else they can do.
"What's wrong with you?" Echo demands finally, furiously. Of everyone, he's the only one who's angry enough to lash out. "You saw what happened on Onderon. You know it's wrong."
"And you disobeyed orders," Hunter throws back, undeterred.
"We did what was right," Crosshair interjects, "Like you always did." His hands tighten over his rifle. It's almost a guarantee now, that this will end in a fight. They can't stay, and Hunter won't willingly leave.
"There's more here that you don't understand." Hunter's gaze sweeps across them, but even Wrecker is standing unmoved. "Now, surrender."
Echo glances at them, subtly enough to avoid alerting the regs, but Hunter is sure to have seen it. "No," he replies finally, being the voice for all of them.
Hunter's gaze moves to Wrecker and Crosshair, awaiting their response. The angry – and hurt – look on Wrecker's face is enough of an answer.
Crosshair stares back at him through his helmet, knowing Hunter can feel the weight of his glare. None of this makes sense. Their brother shouldn't have turned on them, but that's exactly what he is doing. He's standing against them and everything they fought for. Maybe any other time, he would have taken the time to remember what Tech had send in their barracks, but now – now, after they all know exactly what the Empire did, knowing that Hunter is willing to stand for it, he doesn't. Now? He's just angry.
Hunter's hand is slowly moving for his blaster. "One last chance," he says.
No one moves.
Thunder rumbles in the background, the only sound breaking the tense silence.
And that's the moment everyone springs into action. Hunter whips out his blaster, firing at Echo, and all of them instantly duck down behind their crates. Crosshair raises his rifle, firing at the regs. He doesn't have time to think or process that their brother, their leader, the one he always looked up to is shooting at them now, trying to kill them. And even now, he will not hurt Hunter. He couldn't.
One of the regs goes down, but the rest are taking cover now. Even Hunter is.
Another throws two smoke bombs into the middle of the hangar towards them, blinding Echo and Wrecker – Crosshair can still see, even if it's more difficult, and his helmet picks up heat signatures anyway.
But two down is bad enough.
"Tech," Wrecker calls through their comm, "We gotta get outta here!"
"I'm working on it!" comes the response. He doesn't know what happened. Doesn't know that Hunter just turned on them.
"Crosshair, cover me," Echo requests, ducking out from behind the crate he and Wrecker were behind. He obliges instantly, even if it's harder with him so close to the front instead of the back. Everything about this is wrong. They never had time to get battle positions. But Echo sprints forwards through the cover Crosshair temporarily provides, moving to Omega – she's alone in the back.
Now, without a clear person in charge, it's hard. Disorganized. No one knows what they're doing.
They don't know what to do.
Maybe that's for the best though – Hunter is the one who planned all their moves.
But with the rest of the regs taking cover, Crosshair can't get a clear shot at them from here, which is a simple enough fix. He pulls out one of his reflector disks, ducking out from behind the crate, throwing it forwards onto another.
It happens so fast after that.
The Marauder's engines start firing. "Seal the bay doors," Hunter yells, and one of the regs moves for the controls. Crosshair moves forwards instantly – if their escape route is cut off, they'll all die here – and takes down the reg with a shot through the heart.
Hunter ducks out from behind his crate and fires.
Somehow, it's not until the moment the burning pain flares across his left arm that it sinks in exactly what it means that Hunter is fighting against them – that he's trying to kill them. That he's willing to hurt them.
The betrayal hurts more than the wound on his arm. It wasn't a direct hit, but the shot skimmed a good way across his lower arm, starting with his wrist and up from there. He's been shot before. He knows how to handle this, but the fact that this was Hunter who did it, that's what kicks his brain into much too slow gear. He ducks back behind the crate, holding his rifle with his uninjured arm.
"Crosshair!" Omega cries behind him, but he can't let himself be distracted by the fear or horror in her voice.
He can't move his hand without tearing the burn open, if that would even matter. He's not sure it would. It's just a graze, really, but it still hurts. He doesn't even need to see it to know that the skin across it is blackened, and he can smell the smoke from it. Burning flesh has a very distinct, and sickening, scent to it.
It's nauseating, partly because he's rarely smelled it, partly because it reminds him of – of when they nearly lost Wrecker, of when his brother took a direct blow to his face. A year later, and Crosshair still remembers every bit of it. He still remembers the thud as his brother was thrown over the edge of the cliff from the explosion, still remembers how much blood there was.
It had taken a long time to get it cleaned off his hands and armor and...
Wrecker's already existing fear of heights had worsened drastically after. For Crosshair, it was mostly... blaster injuries that sent him spiraling, though that's faded.
Hunter had always been... sensitive to those things, had done his best to keep them from being around either, until they'd recovered. That it was Hunter who hurt him is – it's –
His arm throbs, and the blaster shot melted the armor near it, burning it farther. How much of the instant heat is from the injury versus his armor, he can't tell.
But there's no time to worry about it right now. The bigger problem is that he can't use his rifle anymore, and he can't reach his other blaster properly.
The others are still firing at each other, but Omega – instead of moving towards the ship like she ought to – skids to a stop next to Crosshair. "What are you doing?" he hisses.
She ducks behind the crate next to him, still holding Lula in one arm. She's visibly scared, but she's not letting that stop her. Had it been anyone other than Omega, he wouldn't have let her get close enough, but she's a child, and there's something about her that's simple and innocent, so much like Wrecker, and it feels like he has no guard whatsoever around her. She pulls his blaster from its holster, passing it to him wordlessly.
Hunter is out of his direct line of sight again, but that's never stopped them. He takes the shot off the reflect disk, and it bounces off, taking Hunter's blaster out of his hands. (Is he being somewhat petty? Yes.)
"Get to the ship," Crosshair orders her, firing at the regs a few more times before slipping his blaster back into its holster so he can take his rifle – he is not leaving that behind.
Omega nods, and they move. They pause behind another crate, just one from Wrecker and Echo, who are right by the ship.
They're leaving – without Hunter, without their brother, who's looked after them all this time and watched their backs and taken care of them and done the best for all of them – because now he's...
And considering everything that just happened, he should've expected Hunter to attack them again anyway, but somehow, Crosshair didn't expect his brother to pull out his knife and throw it at him the next time he ducked out from behind the crate. Maybe he would've, if he wasn't trying to shield Omega and ignore the throbbing pain in his arm.
Echo tackles him aside, letting the blade sink hilt-deep into his arm. Wrecker gives cover fire as they cover the rest of the distance and board the Marauder. Echo rips the vibroblade out, tossing it onto the floor of the hangar before they duck inside, avoiding the next round of blaster shots, and close the ramp.
"Get us out of here," Echo calls, and Tech is already obliging.
They're safe for now – all of them, except Hunter, who's... gone.
He's gone.
The pain doesn't actually start sinking in until the rush of adrenaline starts wearing off, and Tech comes to the back to check on them after putting the ship on autopilot through the atmosphere.
Wrecker sinks onto the floor with a half-grumble, half-groan, dragging Crosshair after him. Any other time, and he'd have been told off most harshly about that. Except now, he's too numb and empty to argue.
Hunter just turned on them. He shot at them, tried to kill them. He hurt them. And some things hurt far beyond tears.
Crosshair hasn't cried in years. Hasn't wanted too since Wrecker nearly died, and Hunter had been there then. Hunter had pulled him aside and tried to calm him. Tech has never been one for physical contact. Crosshair used to be, when he was little, before he learned to grow out of it because it interfered too much with his duty, but Hunter always knew when and where to overstep that. On Kamino, there was never a time they didn't feel safe – rarely have even on the battlefield, until Echo came, and they saw for the first time that war was more than it looked – but the last time Crosshair truly felt safe was nestled in his brother's arms, curled against Hunter's chest.
And he just...
He just...
So, no, he doesn't have the energy to punch Wrecker when he pulls Crosshair into his lap as if he were little child. Which he's not. He's – he's nine. Not three.
"How bad is it?" Tech asks, crouching next to them.
"Not bad," he answers almost automatically.
Echo is hovering in the background with his now useless, sparking arm. It was fast of him to think of throwing his scomp in the way. Tech always keeps a spare onboard, anyway.
"Let go of me," Crosshair grumbles, elbowing his brother's chest, but Wrecker's grip around his middle only tightens. Clearly, he's not letting go anytime soon.
"Let me see," Tech requests, and he grudgingly accepts that offer. Considering it's right now – everything that just happened – he can't truly complain about his brothers fussing over him.
This – it's wrong. Any other time, they should all be here, teasing each other, and that would be enough of a distraction. Now, instead, it's a dark, brooding silence.
"Is this what you were looking for?" Omega asks, stepping up to them and holding out Lula.
Wrecker gasps. "You found my Lula!" He snatches her from Omega. Crosshair elbows him again doubly hard for smearing the doll in his face.
(Any other time, Hunter would come in and tell Wrecker to let go of him, even if he had a very traitorous smirk. And no, it's not fair to lash out at the one of his siblings who could've helped it least, but he's hurt and angry and it's gnawing him apart inside out, and he can't help it.)
Tech removes the armor on Crosshair's arm and applies bacta over the wound without a word. It's strange to see him so quiet. "Is that all?" Tech inquires, and he nods in confirmation. "Try to keep down using it," he says, standing, "It will take time to heal, and the scar tissue will be sensitive for a while."
As if he can do that if they're going to be fighting, but then again... the Clone Wars are over. What does that even mean for the future?
"Where are we gonna go now?" Omega inquires, looking around, and everyone stills.
Because the answer to that is obvious.
There isn't one.
None of them have any idea. Kamino was their home. Serving the Republic was their only purpose. (Hunter would know where to go, what to do. How are they supposed to keep moving when the very person who brought them together isn't here?)
"What about your friends?" Omega asks quietly, "Could any of them help us?"
"That would be a short list," Tech replies. And it is – they have Commander Cody and Captain Rex – and they may not be able to trust either anymore.
They haven't worked with regs nearly enough to know any to trust. All of them would've chosen sides, and Crosshair hasn't seen any who question the Empire, or...
Actually... there is one. Just one. "J-19," Crosshair suggests.
Wrecker brightens instantly, finally letting go of him. Crosshair practically teleports to his normal seat behind Tech's before his giant moron of a brother can change his mind.
"J-19?" Echo inquires as the others enter the cockpit.
"Well," Tech answers, "We know someone there."
This is the first time they're going anywhere without Hunter, and it feels so... so wrong.
Omega straps herself into the co-pilot seat, watching in awe as the Marauder makes the hyperspace jump. That cheerful, childish innocence reminds Crosshair of... when he was younger. Seeing her excitement, at least, gives him something else to focus on.
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