Phee leaned over to grab a bowl from the bottom cupboard, careful not to disturb the infant strapped to her in a sling. She straightened, then looked fondly down at the little one. He'd jammed his tiny fist into his mouth, and his brown eyes drooped.

His daddy's beautiful brown eyes, she thought. He was her memento from a few stolen moments with Tech before he'd left on that fateful mission to Eriadu.

Phee smiled as she recalled those happy, sunlit days she'd spent with Tech while he'd been here. Sure, they'd spent most of their time rebuilding Lower Pabu; but they'd still managed to find moments here and there to sneak away together. She missed watching the sunset while listening to Tech ramble on until his voice lulled her to sleep in his arms.

Phee chuckled at the memory of how one evening, she'd lured him here, telling him the compressor was out; how he'd been surprised when it hadn't been malfunctioning at all; and how once he'd finally figured out what she really wanted, he'd bashfully admitted his feelings for her. Well, in his fumbling way, of course.

She smiled sadly at the memory of Tech's shyness, his inexperience, and his awkwardness afterward as he'd prepared to leave for Eriadu. He'd looked almost terrified of her as she'd told him not to run off with any pirates while he was away, but she'd felt his eyes on her as she'd walked away.

Phee had looked forward to exploring that budding relationship with her Brown Eyes when he returned…and then he hadn't.

Phee brushed aside a tear, forcing herself to smile and hum a cheerful song as she threw together a salad using the fresh vegetables she'd picked up this morning at Pabu's market.

Behind her, she heard the front door swing open. She glanced in that direction.

"Hang on a minute," she said, then added a dressing to the salad. She turned and set the bowl on the table.

"What can I do for you?" she asked Hunter, who was standing there, looking fierce with his facial tattoo as always, worry lines creasing his forehead.

"How are you two doing?" he asked. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Phee smirked. "Turns out treasure hunting with an infant is a bit harder than I thought. Figured I should come back and stay on Pabu for a bit longer before we venture out again."

Hunter drummed his fingers on the back of a chair. He pointed at the ceiling. "How's the leak? Is Wrecker's repair job holding up?"

Phee raised an eyebrow at Hunter's attempts at small talk. It was obvious he had something else on his mind. "You know it is. He's the best handyman on Pabu."

Hunter looked at a loss for more words.

"So why are you disturbing the most sacred meal of the day?" Phee teased.

"I, uh, I didn't mean to bother you and…and the little one," he stammered and turned to leave. "I'll let you—"

"Pfft, sit down. I was joking." Phee pulled out a pair of mugs, then filled them with tea. "I'm glad you came. Besides, that's what family does: bother each other."

Hunter gave a little sigh of relief and plopped down in the chair.

Phee sipped her tea. "What's up?"

Hunter didn't say anything at first. He just stared down at his hands.

Phee watched the tattooed clone for a long minute. She'd been surprised by each of the batchers as she'd gotten to know them better, surprised that each one, under their battle-hardened, crusty exteriors, was a sensitive man with hopes and dreams and fears—and too many scars.

Hunter finally reached for his mug and sighed. "It's Crosshair. I thought that once we'd gotten settled here on Pabu, things would get better. We'd finally be safe. Omega would get the childhood we never had. I knew we'd have nightmares, especially Crosshair, but…I didn't think things would get worse. I feel like I'm losing him."

"What do you mean, 'losing him'?"

"He's barely eating. He spends his days sitting staring at the horizon. He won't get his hand replaced." Hunter ran his fingers through his dark, shaggy hair. "He used to spend time shooting, but he hasn't picked up a rifle in months."

"Have you tried asking him what's wrong?"

Hunter shrugged. "Not really. In the past, he'd always come vent to me about whatever was bothering him. Eventually. But not now. I think he still blames himself for…"

Hunter's eyes drifted to the sling pressed up against Phee's chest.

Phee rolled her eyes. "You don't have to tiptoe around me, you know. I knew what I was getting myself into with Tech. He was a soldier. I knew the risks when you said you had one last mission. And yeah, it's hard. I miss him every day. Every time I look into this sweet baby's eyes, I see Tech. Sometimes I need to have myself a good cry. But you know what? I'm okay. We get by, one day at a time."

Hunter stared down at his mug. "I know you are. To be honest, I'm not." He took a deep breath. "Crosshair blames himself for Tech's death. And I have no idea how to convince him otherwise. I'm worried that if he doesn't forgive himself and start living again, he's going to kill himself."

Phee let the clone's words sink in. She'd noticed that the sniper hadn't been visiting as regularly, but she'd figured he'd finally found a hobby or something. She hadn't realized the opposite was true.

"Hm. Well, once when I was on Concord Dawn, I needed to get some info from a Death Watch Mandalorian. Tough guy, impossible to sweet talk. I managed to get him more than a little drunk. Spilled his secrets like he was a waterfall."

"You want me to get my brother drunk?" Hunter said. He snorted. "I'm not sure I've ever even seen Crosshair drink."

"I'm not above a little subterfuge when someone I care about is in danger." Phee shrugged. "Crosshair's obviously under a lot of stress. Go take him to the cantina and have a chat. Maybe push his buttons a little. People say a lot more than they mean to when they're riled up, especially if they're drunk."

Hunter didn't seem convinced, but he nodded as he stood up.

"I probably should have a more direct talk with him," Hunter admitted. "I've been beating around the bush, not wanting to set him off. Thanks for the advice."

Phee stood and walked the tattooed clone to the door. "Not sure it was good advice, but I'm happy to lend an ear."

Hunter gave her a two-fingered salute and a tired smile, then left.

After Hunter was gone, the baby began to fuss. Phee started swaying back and forth, and he slowly drifted off back to sleep.

"If only your daddy could have met you," Phee murmured to the sleeping child. "He probably wouldn't have any idea what to do with you, but I'm sure he'd love you, in his own way."

In his office on the Executrix , Tarkin caught sight of the comms blinking on his desk. He moved over to it and keyed the comms.

"Yes?"

"Moff Tarkin, the specimen from Cathulia is ready for interrogation."