Chapter 2 - If I Was a Fool

Author's Note: Thoughts anyone? xP

~ Amina Gila

His brothers don't push him at all during the rest of their trip, but Hunter can acutely feel all their eyes on him at different intervals, assessing, wondering. He doesn't look at them, though, pointedly focusing on the vibroblade he's continuing to spin as though it's the most fascinating thing in the galaxy.

And while he spins it, he ponders and plans, and ponders some more. Maybe it's selfish, but the one thing he cares about most is finding a way to make sure his squad is safe. He doesn't care much about the rest of the galaxy, about the Republic or the Empire or any of it really. He cares a little about the people that will be hurt, but… well, there's nothing he can do about them. There are only hours left before the galaxy spirals into chaos, and his first instinct will always be to watch over his family.

He cares a little about the regs, too, of course, if only because he knows what their fates will be, and he imagines that Echo will probably want to leave to help them for a time, but… he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. First, his squad.

Tech and Echo go to the cockpit once they approach, and the Marauder vibrates beneath him with a jerk as it comes out of hyperspace. Gracefully, he slips the vibroblade back in its sheath and looks up, bracing himself for the coming battle. This, he can do. Sure, it's been a while, almost a year, since he's led an official mission on the battlefield, but it's all instinct. Muscle memory. Missions for Cid weren't a whole lot different. He can do this – so long as he doesn't lose track of who they do, and don't, have.

He meets Crosshair's eyes, but his vod'ika doesn't say anything, merely moving the toothpick in his mouth, his gaze calm and assessing, thoughtful. Probably not a good combination, but Hunter doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about whatever Crosshair is reading right now. He needs to talk to Tech, a task which will promise to test his endurance. But he'll pull through. For his brothers. For Omega.

"You uh – you feelin' better?" Wrecker asks, coming to stand next to Hunter as Tech begins the downward approach to the rendezvous coordinates. Probably, his voice was supposed to be quiet, but it's not, not really, and Hunter is keenly aware that everyone else is hanging on their every word.

"Marginally," he admits, and then realizes that it's the truth. He feels a little more settled, at least, less rattled. Maybe it's finally sinking in that he's in the past, that he has another chance. Maybe the familiar scents and heartbeats of his brothers are soothing him in a deep, fundamental way. Omega's absence is an ache, but it won't be long before they'll be reunited. At least she's safe – relatively – on Kamino. She isn't being tortured there or held prisoner.

Wrecker pats his shoulder. "Good," he replies, "I was worried 'bout ya." Hunter is unreasonably touched by that, and he swallows, nodding.

He waits to say anything until after Tech lands and the others go to collect their gear and helmets. "Tech," he says, forcing his voice to stay level, to not tremble. Tech died. He died on a mission that was far too risky to have gone on in the first place, but Force, he'd wanted to get Crosshair back so badly, that he had let it go with only a token protest. "I have a question."

Tech's brown eyes meet his, curious. "What is it?"

"Are you able to… cut us off from all comm channels except our private ones, including the emergency channels?" It's the only thing he can think of. He doesn't know when, exactly, they began to lose Crosshair, but it makes sense for it to have been when Order 66 was given out. If he doesn't hear that order, maybe – maybe they won't lose him like before. But at least this time, they can get his inhibitor chip out before things get that far. … Hopefully.

The one thing Hunter knows with surety though, is that he will not leave Crosshair behind, chipped or not. If Crosshair wants to stay after they get his chip out… well, he'll deal with it if it happens. He'll do anything, even going back on his own – he won't take the squad with him, because they need to be safe – if it means getting his vod'ika back.

Tech blinks, adjusting his goggles. "Well, of course, I can do that. … Is there a reason behind this highly irregular request?"

Oh, Hunter knows that Tech already has theories, but he's fishing for more information. "I… I think something is going to happen," he says finally. "I want to be prepared."

"I'll take care of it," Tech assures him. "It is… highly irregular to see you so distressed." An observation. A simple one, but it still feels like a gut punch, and Hunter flinches.

He can still hear Tech's last words, Wrecker's frantic pleading, Omega's screaming. It will haunt his waking hours, and even his sleeping ones. Force, they lost Tech. Some moments, it doesn't – didn't even seem real, and Hunter half-expected to see his younger brother walk up with a comment about how he could not possibly have died from that, because he did all the calculations. Of course, he survived.

But it's never happened, and slowly, the gaping hole his death tore in them has only grown.

"A lot happened," Hunter offers grimly, staring out the viewport at the snowy surface of Kaller. "I can't talk about it right now. It's still too… fresh."

Tech's gaze is on him, and he can see in his mind's eye the slight furrow in Tech's brow as he turns over that information. "You speak as though it was more than a dream, Hunter," Tech finally notes, his voice very gentle.

He opens his mouth, closes it, hesitates, and then opens it again. "It was," he confesses. "It was… so much more. But I…" He stops, shaking his head and sighing. "Not now. I can't." He turns away to leave the cockpit, jerking when he sees Crosshair hovering there, watching him. His helmet is on, but Hunter knows him well enough to guess at the calculating look in his eyes as he turns over what he overheard.

"Here," Crosshair says, holding out his helmet, and Hunter blinks, surprised and touched by the gesture. Their youngest – until Omega – never spoke about his feelings. He was never one to talk about them either. Instead, they were shown through gestures and acts, like now, and it… it hurts. He takes the helmet wordlessly, slipping it on and laying a hand on Crosshair's shoulder, nodding to him before slipping past to join the others.

They have a mission to do, after all.

The Padawan, Caleb Dume, is waiting when they disembark, and he's quick to give them a rundown of the situation. He's a child, hardly any older than Omega was, and… he's a soldier. It's all wrong.

Hunter can't ignore the instinct to put himself between the Padawan and Crosshair, though he tries to be subtle about it, keeping himself shifted closer to Caleb than he normally would, ready and tensed for any possible action. There isn't any, of course, but it makes him feel better to be prepared, even as it hurts him to know how little his instincts let him trust Crosshair anymore. Reminding himself that this is before Order 66, before Crosshair's chip activated isn't even enough, because he remembers –

"Wrong. I had my chip removed a long time ago."

"Since when?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"This is who I am."

The knowledge that he can't let down his guard around Crosshair, no matter how much he wants to, is crushing. He tries, but he just can't force his body to relax. Instead, his senses are heightened, laser-focused on his vod'ika as he waits and watches and braces himself for – for something. For Crosshair to try and kill Caleb maybe, or them. (He remembers on Kamino, how Crosshair had swung at him, vibroblade in his hand as he aimed for Hunter's neck.)

He can't relax.

And he hates himself for it.

He hates even more that he can't trust Crosshair the way he once did, even if this is before everything went down. (Or is it? He doesn't know when they started to lose him, at what precise moment Crosshair decided that aiding the Empire was better than staying with them.)

Caleb runs off after they prepare to move in, and its instinct for Hunter to tell Crosshair to get into position, for him to have Wrecker shove a boulder down the incline to make a hole through the lines of battle droids. It's instinct for him to launch himself into the fray with his vibroblade, stabbing droids as he, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech tear through the enemy forces.

"Crosshair, let's get these tanks moving," he orders, pushing away the pain that washes through him at his vod'ika's answering snide, "sir, yes, sir."

Wrecker handles the tanks, while the rest of them work their way through the droids. Seeing them here, like this, reminds Hunter abruptly of how things used to be, and he misses it with a sudden fierceness that takes his breath away. They're so… different. He knows, of course, that they changed, but it's so… strange to see them as they were. Now, he's the one that's different. His brothers don't know this version of him.

"Omega –" he begins, instinct again. Stay close to me, he almost says, before remembering. She's not here. It's easy to forget, when his mind is focusing on the mission at hand, that he's in the past. Officially, they haven't met her yet.

He doesn't forget that again, her absence too apparent to him, the light of her presence missing.

Thankfully, none of the others comment, too focused on the mission, and as the smoke settles, the droids are all gone. Hunter glances at the others, double-checking that they're alright before turning to approach the trenches where the Jedi and regs are. All of this feels so pointless, when he knows how it ends, but…

Well, a mission is a mission, and if the kid survives, that's what matters most, right?

"You should launch a counterattack," he tells General Billaba simply. "Another droid battalion's approaching." He can feel them, the massive wave of energy moving in this direction, even if they can't see it yet with their macrobinoculars.

The reg captain takes offence to his tone – though Hunter could care less at this point – but Billaba agrees with him, ordering her troops to move out. Caleb introduces them to his master, and Hunter fights the sudden, overwhelming desire to tell them both to run. It wouldn't even matter, would it?

"Now, would one of you please explain where my actual reinforcements are?" Billaba questions, a hint of exasperation breaking through in her voice.

Hunter hesitates a fraction of a second too long, so it's Tech who jumps in to answer. "All reinforcements were recalled to the capital to launch a counteroffensive against the surprise attack by the Separatists. Aside from us, there will be no other reinforcements coming."

Wrecker laughs. "We're all you need."

Tech hums at that, tapping on his datapad. "Actually, if my intel is correct, the General will not need any of us. The Clone War may soon be over."

Hunter takes a deep breath as the chatter washes over him, grateful that he has his helmet on, though he can still sense that Billaba is watching him, undoubtedly sensing something. "Well, that is nothing we can control from here," she says at last. "We should focus on the task at hand."

"Any orders?" Hunter forces himself to say.

"Let's blow somethin' up!" Wrecker cheers, and Hunter notices the way that, for a moment, Billaba's expression flickers with an amused fondness.

"You know your squad best," Billaba decides. "I'll let you handle things as you will. But if I may…" She hesitates, and that puts Hunter on edge, because he just knows – "I would like a word with you."

Hunter tenses, and he knows everyone sees it, but he nods. "Of course."

She lets him a few steps away from the others. "The Force around you is different," she tells him, "Troubled. There is… a disturbance around you. Has something happened?"

Would it even change anything if he told her the truth? But at the same time, does it matter if he at least tries? He doesn't know if Caleb survived last time or not – he hopes so – but if Billaba escaped with him… it would surely give them both a better chance.

"I… have seen things," Hunter answers slowly, well aware that he's running out of time. No, the Jedi are running out of time. "Very soon, the Jedi will be accused of treason, and the clones will be forced to turn on them via inhibitor chips in their heads. They will not have a choice. If you, and your padawan, run now, you might stand a chance."

She stares at him, visibly taken aback and unsettled. "How could you know this?"

His expression twists. "I saw it," he answers. "I lived it."

"I believe you," she replies quietly. "The Force is telling me to trust you." She nods to him before turning towards the others. "Caleb, come with me," she instructs. "The rest of you, handle those droids."

She gives Hunter a lingering look before she and her padawan, who is asking her a million questions from the looks of it, something that sends a pang through Hunter as he remembers Omega, hurry away towards the tree line. "What was that about?" Crosshair asks, helmet turning from the Jedi to Hunter.

Sure, he doesn't mean it in a bad way – he's probably just curious – but it's Crosshair, and Hunter only tenses further, remembering –

"Every choice you've made since Kaller has been wrong."

"I'll tell you later," he replies. "Let's deal with those droids."

They don't get far, and it's been no more than a minute, when Hunter becomes keenly aware of the way the regs are stopping, turning back. He turns, too, watching, as they open fire on the two Jedi who are just inside the tree line. They ignite their lightsabers, deflecting the blaster bolts as they run.

"What was that all about?" Echo finally voices, confused, as a heavy silence settles over the area, the regs giving chase into the forest.

Tech looks down at his datapad, tapping at it for a moment. "The official comm channel is repeating one directive: execute –"

"Don't say it," Hunter bursts out, remembering what happened on Bracca with Wrecker. If that's really enough, merely hearing the command, he won't take any chances with Crosshair.

Everyone stills at the vehemence in his tone, but he's wound up, trembling, and he can't – he can't –

He sucks in a shaky breath, pinching his eyes closed and counting down from ten in a bid to regain his control over himself. It's fine. It's fine. There's nothing to worry about.

"Hunter?" The edge of worry in Echo's voice only seems stronger than it did before, when they were still on the Marauder on the way here. Probably, they had hoped that he'd be… better once they got the mission. He should be. He's letting them down by allowing the things that he's seen, the memories of another lifetime, affect him so visibly.

He doesn't answer the unspoken question, guiltily adding another thing to the massive list of things he needs to explain to them. They don't keep secrets from each other, and it feels so strange for him to not sit down and explain everything, no matter how hard it will be. But it's not just that which is unsettling him now; it's also the knowledge that he can't trust them with answers right now. Wrecker's chip activated, too, and then, there's Crosshair –

Yeah, he doesn't need to say anything on that account.

Until he knows they're all safe, it's more of a risk to tell them the truth, and he won't risk them – and Omega, especially – like that.

"Find out what's happening," he says to Tech, voice calm and level. Reasonable. Totally different from how he actually feels right now.

Tech eyes him for a moment, before he looks down at his datapad and starts typing. Hunter keeps a close eye on the nearby regs, his body tense and braced for action – as if they might somehow realize that he knows more than he's saying and attack him for it – but nothing happens. The tense, heavy, smothering silence lingers as Tech works, and the others shift around, looking between Hunter, Tech, and the nearby regs. Hunter can feel how many questions they have, questions that he doesn't think he can answer, questions that he doesn't even know if he would answer, even if he thought it safe.

It's all so… soon still. Too soon.

"Plan 99."

"Don't you do it, Tech."

Omega's scream.

"That is very peculiar," Tech says at last. "It appears the regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi. All of them. They're saying the Jedi have committed treason."

"What?" Echo bursts out. "That's absurd!"

Of course, Echo is the most upset by it. He fits in so well with them, that Hunter could sometimes forget that he used to be a reg, that he had a Jedi General he was close to.

"Good thing we aren't regs," Crosshair snips, and Hunter's breath catches, because this isn't what happened last time. Last time, Crosshair was adamant, insisting that they carry through with the orders that were wrong.

Wrecker laughs, knocking into Crosshair's shoulder. "You got that right!"

Hunter hesitates a moment before reaching a decision. "Our mission here is done," he tells the others. "It's time for us to clear out. The regs can handle their own assignment."

"We're gonna go back to Kamino?" Wrecker asks hopefully.

Hunter looks between all of them, and finally nods. "Yes," he answers, "We'll go back to Kamino unless we get other orders."

Of course, they don't.

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