That Was Tech
His body aches and his back aches from hitting the rocky wall, but Crosshair shoves himself up again, as he always does – always get back up pick yourself up keep moving keep fighting get home –
He's stumbling, dizzy from CX-2's helmet being smashed into his face but he has to keep moving.
Crosshair lunges at him again, though he can't land a single sensibly placed blow – hand-to-hand combat was always Hunter's thing. Not Crosshair's. Hunter's the one who gets all knife-y personal.
Crosshair blocks the next punch, somehow – CX-2 is always the one on top of these spars, except this time, Hemlock's not here to call it off his favorite pet assassin is going too far.
Doesn't fully know how it happens.
Crosshair tries to reach for him again, and his hand smacks the side of CX-2's helmet – you're our brother, you're a person, too, you idiot –
Crosshair hates him but Omega never gave up on him and it's not his fault he had his mind ripped apart in the – reeducation, as Hemlock calls it, either.
The assassin shoves him away, and Crosshair yanks his helmet off with him, hitting the ground again amidst the stream, landing on the sandy, rocky ground amidst the river. He stumbles upright, soaked and his bodyglove is sticking to him everywhere.
CX-2's helmet clanks off, rolling over, its visor staring up at them deadly, and Crosshair looks up.
In the dim, purple-tinted lighting, Crosshair sees his face for the first time.
His tangled brown curls, messier than they ought to be.
His goggles, green tinted instead of yellow.
His face is thinner, paler, and he looks – sicker. Like Echo.
His eyes are wild and fierce, but with the same sharp, intense focus.
"Tech?" Crosshair breathes, stumbling back. His foot slips in the sand but he can't think about that, can't think about anything other than is that Tech how what –
"He – shot himself free of the rail car. He called Plan 99 –"
"He wanted you back He tried to help you. I'm not gonna waste that, Crosshair."
Tech.
That's his brother. Tech.
Crying mid-battle is a guarantee to end up dead, but that's the most his stupid, stupid ten-year-old brain can manage. Tears are hot on his face. He stumbles back again, foot hitting something slippery and when CX-2 – Tech – comes at him again, he falls, splashing into the rushing water.
It closes over his face, and he clamps his mouth shut on panicked instinct. Kamino burns at the edges of his mind, water and wet and cold, closing in and dark, the shadows consuming, and before he can shove himself up, Tech is on him, hands on his shoulders, shoving him down.
Crosshair thrashes, trying to kick him off, to leverage himself free. His lungs are burning, screaming for air but he's at the wrong angle, unable to do anything but squirm.
This is Tech and stars he's going to die here Tech's going to kill him Tech –
He reaches up, trying to – to –
This is his brother.
Tech, who held his hand and cared for him and steadied and guided him, Tech who was always there for him and fought so hard to protect him, all of them – Tech, who died to save his family from the mess Crosshair started.
And now, he's going to kill him.
Tech, who would never once hurt any of his brothers. The only one Crosshair knew that of. The first to walk away. The first to accept what he was.
"You had your chance to be one of us."
From the minute Omega told him of Tech, Crosshair knew he would never be able to see his brother again or make up for what he did, or – or make it right, and Tech would have spent the rest of his life thinking Crosshair didn't love him like Hunter and Wrecker nearly did.
He does. He does, and he forgives him, too, because Crosshair dug this hole for himself. No one made him hurt or lie to them.
And even mindless, this is still Tech.
Crosshair's hand presses to his arm, in the unspoken whispering I love you don't hate yourself it's what I deserve that he knows Tech would understand.
His hand slips free as exhaustion burns over his mind, stars blurring his sight and the image of the fierce snarl on Tech's face.
He's terrifying when he's angry.
Crosshair doesn't have the energy to be scared anymore.
He's going to die.
The grip on him is slackening, Tech pulling back the slightest bit, but he's too exhausted to fight anymore – until a flash of a stunbolt takes his brother down, and he drops sideways, rolling over and splashing into the water.
Crosshair shoves himself upright, coughing and gasping, reaching for the riverbank to keep from being thrown over the waterfall right behind him. His hand catches the rocks, struggling and scraping, and he reaches out when he sees Howzer approach. The reg grabs his hand, and then Hunter's there, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright.
Crosshair resolutely doesn't look back, because if he sees Tech falling over the waterfall edge, he'll go after.
His body is trembling. Head is spinning – a splitting headache lancing its way through his forehead somewhere between his eyes. Right hand is stinging, aching, clenching.
Tears don't stop coming.
He throws himself at Hunter, and his older brother's arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him against his smaller (but decidedly, not nearly as skinny) frame.
The air is cold. He's freezing. Numb. Standing is hard.
"Crosshair." Hunter pulls back, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, turning his head to face him. "Was that...?" Hunter's helmet hides his face, but his voice is unsteady. Scared. Hunter never sounds scared. He always hides it by layers of anger – he did on Kamino, when Crosshair dragged him through their home with a blaster pressed to his back, when he hit him for stumbling or slowing or being brave enough to try reaching out for him.
Crosshair nods, unable to voice it, to say anything. Words catch in his throat, and he chokes back a sob.
"We have to keep moving," Rex interjects before anyone else can join the mental breakdown.
**w**
That was Tech. It was. It was, but it feels like a dream. It makes sense. Too much.
CX-2 had always been familiar. Smart. Different. Too fast, too good, too stealthy, too rogue, with an itchiness that Crosshair registered as familiar on first sight.
"You had your chance to be one of us."
"I'm going to give you what you never gave me: a chance."
"You chose the wrong side!"
"Don't make the same mistake twice. Don't become my enemy."
"We never were."
"You're still their brother, Crosshair."
Can't stop remembering the knife slashing toward him, the way he struggled to keep it from hitting his face or anything lethal. The hands, holding him down.
Tech.
Crosshair had always known. He just didn't want to believe it. Mindless and memoryless, he could recognize his brother anywhere.
It's no wonder Hemlock had always taken such pleasure in pairing CX-2 with Crosshair in their training. Crosshair helped train him – if, you know – getting used as a punching bag counts as training. He's always been familiar, and Crosshair always tried to tell himself there were some regs that – that resembled Tech, because they're brothers and it could happen, but he never knew.
He was never certain until a time they got overly aggressive with each other, and Crosshair had mostly accidentally broken CX-2's arm. He'd still won, holding Crosshair in a chokehold until he was almost certain he'd die right then, right there, when Hemlock called him off, and that was the last time he ever wondered about Tech, because Tech would never hurt him.
He wouldn't.
CX-2 had always been strangely possessive. Crosshair knew he knew him from somewhere. Just – didn't think –
There was only ever one person it could be. There are exactly five people in this galaxy he belongs to. Exactly five who ever wanted him.
"There is a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle, and being used for target practice."
Crosshair shot an explosive at him. Threw him over a waterfall. Shot at him.
Fireball blew up the entire room, burying him under rubble.
Tech shot them from the sky. Killed almost all of Rex's men. Shot Nemec through the heart. Tried to stab Crosshair. Nearly drowned him.
Just as Crosshair did all those things to his brothers himself.
He tried to stab Hunter once, too.
His clothes are still dripping and sticky and wet, and he hasn't twitched from his chosen spot on the floor. Wrecker sits across from him, eyes wide and fixed ahead of himself.
"Alright. Out with it. What's going on?" Echo demands from the pilot's seat.
"That was Tech," Hunter whispers finally.
Echo pauses, turning. "What?" he sounds breathless, skeptical.
"That was Tech," Hunter repeats, hands clenching. "The assassin after us."
"I understand what you're saying, but that's not possible," Echo argues, "We saw him die. We saw him fall."
Omega's curled by Batcher, and she tightens her skinny arms around her knees, tears trickling down her face in a steady stream. She's their eldest sister, for as small as she is – she's fourteen now. Still tiny with her unaltered aging – she knew them when they were little.
"Technically, she is older than we are."
Crosshair never saw what Tech's loss did to her. Omega buried it well, hidden, stayed strong just for him.
"It was him," Crosshair interrupts quietly. "I saw him."
"We all did," Rex agrees, "It was fast, and I didn't get a good look, but there's only one clone who looks like that."
Crosshair spent months with him. He should've known.
"That's how I didn't sense him," Hunter whispers, "He was in the same room. I didn't know how I... But I recognized him. I knew I felt that heartbeat somewhere. I didn't recognize it as a threat."
Wrecker looks down. Turns his hands over in his lap.
Crosshair's hand is aching. Can't stop shaking. He rubs at his wrist absently, willing it to stop, but everything is wet and all he can remember is the closing darkness and the hands holding him down.
A distant flickering memory plays of Omega's tiny hands taking his arm, pushing him up over the surface. He tries to latch onto that shard.
The shaking doesn't stop.
Wrecker looks seconds short of crying, and Crosshair's heart shatters.
He knows both him and Hunter blame themselves for what happened to Tech, as if it could be anyone's fault other than Crosshair's. He's the one who led them there.
"It wasn't your fault, Wrecker," Crosshair mutters, drifting closer to him.
Wrecker looks away. "I tried to stop him. I tried to reach him, but I wasn't strong enough."
"He made the shot, Wrecker. Not you."
Crosshair touches his shoulder, standing by his side. He hasn't had an emotional conversation with his twin brother since Kamino, since Tech was standing right beside them. Wrecker's hand rests over his, heavy and massive.
"He asked me too," Wrecker whispers, "Then he did it himself."
Stars. "Tech would do anything to protect you." Just as he once would have for Crosshair.
He is their older brother.
Hunter looks down at Omega, who looks back at him, tears in her eyes, but a fierce and familiar determination in her eyes.
He gaze turns to Wrecker and Crosshair where they cling to each other, crying in their own relative silence – this is hardly the first recent time Crosshair's cried in front of a roomful of people. At least these are family, ones he can trust – but with the desperate aching need to have their family back.
Their brother.
Tech.
His absence had never been more glaring than when Crosshair came back, seen his broken goggles and the little place in the Marauder they set up just for him, in his memory, the same way the regs always did.
They never lost anyone before. Were never supposed to. That's what made them different. They were loyal. They wouldn't let each other go.
"We are going to find a way to bring him home," Hunter decides finally, with every shred of the passionate fierceness Crosshair remembers he held, though so long buried he thought it was gone. "Tech would have done the same for any of us."
**w**
"You know, staring at your comm won't make Echo contact you any faster," Crosshair points out finally, fully tired of watching Omega tap her foot on repeat and staring at her comm like it holds answers to all of life's questions. Tech used to be that about his datapad.
Tech.
"He and Rex lost most of their squad in that attack," Omega sighs, jumping up and walking toward him, "All because the Empire was after me. I have to do something to help them. And – and Tech –"
"You are," Crosshair points out, because he knows exactly what she's already thinking, "By staying away."
"Tech's out there, and we're not doing anything to help him!"
"There's nothing we can do." He knows the truth. Knows what his brothers and the kid want to think, but it's very unlikely they'll be able to get Tech's mind back. It was... gone. Tech wouldn't have shot them out of the sky.
"He's right," Hunter interjects gently, standing in the doorway, "We need to know more about why Hemlock's after you, and what his M-count experiments mean. Until then, you have to lay low."
"Hey!" Wrecker calls from inside, "Incoming transmission. From Phee."
"Who?"
**w**
Hunter and Wrecker leave to find more about the M-counts, tracking down some bounty hunter they knew. They'll be fine, or at least Crosshair keeps trying to tell himself that. It's hard. Being without Hunter and Wrecker again, for as long as he's been without them, is hard.
He's scared.
If something goes wrong, he won't be able to protect Omega.
If Tech finds them, he won't be able to shoot – he can't hit a single target properly, and it's infuriating.
"You know, AZI can look at your hand for you," Omega finally dares broach the topic when they're eating together that evening.
"It's fine," Crosshair mutters, the same as what he said previously. No, it's not, it hurts and it won't stop shaking but he doesn't know how to talk about it, doesn't want to, because he can't be weak or defective or – or – whatever he is.
"Ignoring it won't make it go away, Crosshair," his sister says, scooting back in her chair and staring at him from across the table.
"You sound like Hunter," he mutters, looking away. It's just Omega, but he can't look her in the eye.
"You know Tech would want you to feel better," she actually has the audacity to say.
Crosshair jerks his head up to glare at her – he almost doesn't mean to, but he does not want Tech dragged into this. "Tech wants me dead," he snarls back. Their brother – stars. Tech.
Omega flinches like he slapped her. "That's not true! He wanted you safe. We all wanted you safe. That's why we came for you."
They should've left him. Now, Tech's gone because Crosshair got himself captured and was being an absolute idiot. But she's – she's right. Tech would want... him to be fine. He wouldn't want him to lose the one thing that made him special. He can't fight it when...
Oh, fine. Omega's good at getting her way. He'll suffer through it, because Hunter very clearly asked Omega to make him – smart of him. If Hunter asked himself, Crosshair would rip his face off – and – and he knows she's right.
That is what Tech would want.
The real Tech.
**w**
AZI can't do anything, so Omega takes him to meditate, and despite Crosshair's initial reluctance, it seems to have helped. Temporarily.
He knows they'll see Tech again. Is waiting for it. Dreading it.
Hunter and Wrecker come back with nothing but a probably insincere promise from Fennec that someone will give them the information they need.
And then Ventress shows up, and they fight her, because they aren't letting her anywhere near their kid.
"Ventress can't be trusted," Hunter is trying to explain, "You don't know the things she did during the war, Omega. We do."
"Okay, but if she's as bad as you say, then why didn't she kill you when she had the chance?" Omega asks.
Crosshair watches her, arms crossed, genuinely irked.
"Oh, we were just getting warmed up," Wrecker calls from the doorway, a black eye and a vivid ring of bruises around his neck to show for it. Crosshair's ribs still ache all over. He thinks something might've nearly broken, but since he can breathe without wanting to scream, he's probably still in one piece.
Probably.
"I don't know much about the war, but things are different now," Omega argues, "People can change."
"You're being naïve," Crosshair tells her bluntly.
"I never gave up on you, did I?" Omega throws back.
No, she didn't, but Ventress fought the clones for years. She massacred people. Entire villages. Star destroys. She's killed thousands of clones without remorse or hesitation. Echo knew all about her. She leveled so much on Kamino.
She's a monster.
Though it's not like Crosshair is any better.
He never has been.
"I say we give her a chance," Omega replies firmly.
"Doesn't sound like you're giving us much choice," Crosshair grumbles.
"This is my choice," Omega replies.
Except that if Ventress wanted to hurt her, or worse, Omega wouldn't stand a chance. At least her brothers do – they can stand on their own. Omega's just a kid. She's not made for this. She's...
Crosshair's tired of the unknown. Of running. Of hiding. He's so, so tired.
He just wants his brothers back.
All of them.
"You want to finish her test?" Hunter asks with a tired sigh. He's so worn down now, it's wrong to see on him. There are minutes, flashes where he looks as he should, but so rare.
"Yeah, I do," Omega agrees, "We need to know what we're up against, remember? I want to know what makes me special."
It's fair, but Crosshair still resents it. Still hates it.
But it's not like it matters if Ventress changed or not. She's not part of their family. All that matters is Tech.
**w**
The test comes back negative, with more questions than answers, the knowledge that Ventress apparently actually doesn't want them all dead – point is moot, because there's no longer any war to fight in, and no reason to fight short of petty vengeance – and a warning to leave.
One Hunter takes seriously, though the warning is too late, and Crosshair doesn't think he'll ever unsee the raw, gutted look on Hunter's face or Omega's panic when the Marauder – their ship, their home, Tech's, where so many of their memories are held goes up in a puff of fire and smoke, throwing Wrecker and Gonky off edge of the platform into the ocean.
From there, everything explodes into pure mayhem. Wrecker's hurt. Gonky's switched off and in hiding.
The star destroyer closes in, gunships and all, and Hunter goes to hijack one, which Crosshair almost thinks will be fine, until it's shot out of the sky by a very well-placed sniper shot.
Tech.
He already knew that. It had to be. Someone had to have infiltrated to blow up the Marauder, but Crosshair never thought about it until he and Omega stand together at the edge of the sidewalk together, overlooking the sea where their eldest brother just disappeared beneath.
"Where is he? Do you see him?" Omega asks anxiously.
Crosshair knows, deep inside because Hunter has to be fine, and he can't lost another of his brothers, not today, not ever, not when Tech is so close at their heels. "He's fine," Crosshair confirms, snatching up his helmet and taking his sister's shoulder to guide her back toward the house, "Safer than we are at the moment."
"What do we do?" Omega queries as they stand opposite each other in the dimly lit room. Wrecker's motionless body is lying on a bed up against the wall. Lyanna is beside him, and they're safely away to discuss it privately. "Troopers will be here soon."
"Hunter would want us to stick to the plan," he answers, heart pounding. In truth, for the first time in his entire life, Crosshair has no idea what to do. Genuinely, he doesn't know. With the Empire, he had orders. Then he had Omega's orders, then Hunter's, and thrown here alone with just their kid, Crosshair has no idea what to do. Omega's never let him have this choice before.
"There's no hiding, Crosshair," his sister argues, "The Empire knows I'm here. They won't stop searching until they find me." She sighs heavily. "Our only choice is to let them capture me."
"What?!" Crosshair hisses, panic hitching.
"Look at what they've already done. I can't let the people here suffer more because of me."
His stupid, stupid, selfless sister. "You'll be taken back to Tantiss."
"Exactly. We've been trying to find those coordinates, and nothing's worked. But if I keep my comm on me and turn myself over, you can track me to Tantiss. This is our chance. Our chance to finally rescue the clones imprisoned there."
"No," Crosshair argues, shaking his head. There's a crushing pressure in his chest and he can't breathe. He wants to cry or scream or – or – this can't be the only way. He's been avoiding Tantiss for so long. "They'll search you and find it. It won't work."
"Well, then shoot a secondary tracker onto the ship that they take me away on."
"Too many unknown variables. It's not a viable plan."
"It's all we've got. And it's my choice. Besides, Tech's still there. I know what Tantiss did to you, Crosshair, but we have to get him back. He did the same for you."
"I know." He can't look at her. He feels faint. Fluttery. Distant. They're going back. He's handing her over to Tech. He'll hurt her. He can't let that happen. He wants Tech back, but it's impossible. Hemlock took his mind. He's not their brother anymore, and that's not something Crosshair has any idea how to tell his squad.
He's the reason this happened to Tech. He shouldn't get a say in – what happens to him, but Crosshair knows how dangerous their brother is now.
"I have to go. I have to try. Just like he did for all of us. Focus on the bigger mission. I'm just a small part of it."
She has a point, and Crosshair is entirely helpless to stop it. She's right – if they wait, Tech will find them. He'll find Wrecker, too, and he'll – Crosshair could never win against him in a fight.
He'd kill them both and Hunter would be left here alone, and Omega would be taken, anyway.
He hates it, but there's really no other choice.
Crosshair just hopes his brothers don't hate him forever.
**w**
Seeing Tech again from afar, watching him shove Omega is gutting. Tech never pushed them. The only one he'd be rough with, if he were even physically capable, is Wrecker. He would never have treated her like that, but Omega looks him dead in the eye, as fearless as she always has been – their sister has a death wish.
And Crosshair misses the shot. The ship angles up too fast, and the tracker splashes into the ocean along with all their hopes, but – he knows another way to Tantiss.
Maybe.
He'd held off because he knew what it came with, and he cares far, far more about one of his siblings dying than – than going there.
If Tech died for them, his choice would be the same now.
He would rather stay dead than one of his siblings sacrificing themselves to bring him back.
Except Crosshair. They don't need him. They survived without him. He's a liability.
Wrecker's angry. He'd hidden his anger well all the way through, never once unleashed or mentioned how angry he was at Crosshair, until right now.
It hurts.
Shouldn't hurt so badly, but he does. Crosshair knows he made the only choice he could have, but Wrecker's still angry at him, and it was his fault. He's the one who sent Hunter off to the gunship. He's the one who missed the shot. He –
"We still have no way of finding Tantiss base," Hunter says quietly, in response to Wrecker's complaints about their lack of a ship. The Marauder's loss is definitely not something Crosshair needs rubbed in his face right now, either. Nor is the wild differences in his twin brother – Wrecker might not always have been optimistic, exactly, but he was always so positive and goofy. He hardly remembers Wrecker's laugh anymore.
"That's not exactly true," Crosshair mutters, rubbing at his aching hand. It came to this, and his brothers are going to be so angry. Hunter already hit him once, and he's not looking for a repeat.
"Wait. You've known where Tantiss is this whole time?" Wrecker yelps, and Crosshair tries really, really hard not to flinch. He would never betray them and Tech that wildly. Not again. he's already – done that again.
"I didn't say I know," Crosshair objects, "There's someone who might have the coordinates."
"Who?" Hunter inquires. He looks angry, but he often looks angry, and Crosshair can't tell if this is real. Trying to look at him is hard.
"Admiral Rampart. He sent Nala Se there when we decommissioned Tipoca City."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Because Tantiss isn't a place I ever wanted to go back to. And Rampart's not particularly trustworthy. He is a last resort, but... he's also our only option." His wrist is aching and Crosshair rubs at it, though he knows Hunter's watching him.
"You – you knew, and ya left Tech there?" Wrecker asks, wounded.
"I'm not sure there's much left of him to go back to. And I don't want to fight him again." He's done it enough. He can't express it, really – they fought so much on Tantiss. Teth. He nearly died.
Tech was going to kill him. They'll have to fight again, and Crosshair left the Empire because he was so, so tired and he just wanted to go home. He thought he'd never have to fight them again, but here he is.
"That isn't what matters right now," Hunter tells Wrecker gently, touching his shoulder. "Where's Rampart now?"
"I was still in the Empire when they arrested him. He was sent to –"
Their conversation's cut off – very rudely – by Phee's arrival. She used some hidden access to arrive on Pabu, and that's what they need – a hidden way off, and a ship.
She knew Tech well, and hearing his name still hurts.
"You had your chance to be one of us."
What matters is that they're off. To Tantiss. To Omega. To Tech.
**w**
They don't talk about Tech again. About anything, really. Between Echo and Rampart's help, they hitch a ride on a cargo ship heading for Tantiss. It's about the best they could ask for right now, though it goes until they're shot down, and make it on an incredibly long trek through the forest.
No thanks to Rampart for waking a creature, or Wrecker for wrestling it, and getting his chest clawed open for his efforts. He could've gotten his heart clawed out.
Their success chance, with Wrecker limping as bad as he is, has significantly dropped. He's determined, and it's driving him way, way too much.
Tech wouldn't want this. Nor would Omega, but they don't have a way to make him stop, either.
And Crosshair cannot remember the last time his hand was shaking this badly. If ever. He's a liability. He's gonna get them killed, because they'd never let him go alone, and – and this was his mess. Tech. Omega. All of it. He should be the one to fix it.
"You two, head to the communications array and try to contact Rex. I'll infiltrate the base myself," Crosshair decides, fully ready to take off, because they shouldn't – he's already hurt them both so much, and he doesn't want to risk them again.
He can't let them die.
"Not happening," Hunter replies fiercely, as Crosshair knows he would have with Tech on Eriadu.
"Yeah, we've handled worse situations than this," Wrecker agrees, "Countless –"
He's done waiting, done trying to explain, done – just, done. He is not letting them die for him, too. "I've been inside that mountain. I know what we're up against. If we all go in, we're not all making it out. Omega needs you both. So, I'm doing this alone. It's – it's what I deserve.
"Don't even think about Plan 99, Crosshair," Hunter argues fiercely, "Omega needs all of us, and so do those clones. And so does Tech."
"Wake up," Crosshair hisses, "Tech is gone. Whatever squad we were died with him. He's not coming back. You're chasing a shadow. That's not Tech."
"We've always known the risks," Wrecker answers quietly, "And so did Tech. We do this together."
"I know it's hard, Crosshair, but don't give up on him. Omega always thought there was a way to bring you home. Tech needs us now as much as she does."
"We'll have to fight him again."
"I didn't do anything right for you. We never came back when we should've," Hunter replies, "Let me do this for Tech. Just this once, I have to do this right."
He already lost Tech. He can't lose them, too.
Crosshair knows full well this isn't overly appropriate for mid-battle, either, but it doesn't stop him from lurching forward and wrapping his arms around Hunter's neck, resting his helmet on his unarmored shoulder, trying to breathe.
This is Hunter's way of healing as much as his, and he's relatively certain they'd be much better without him, but they missed him, and he somehow thinks he never quite realized Hunter to be as tied up over it as he was – he shouldn't be surprised. Hunter's a good leader. A good brother. Crosshair would've followed him anywhere once. He needs to let it go, to heal, too.
Wrecker yanks them both against his chest in a hug, as brief and careful as it is.
Crosshair tries to pretend he doesn't smell blood.
A loud roar and rumble breaks them apart, to where a giant... thing smashes through the hangar doors.
"Echo's handiwork, or Omega?" Crosshair asks dryly.
"Omega," Hunter and Wrecker chorus without hesitation.
"If she's giving us a way in, let's not waste it," Hunter says, and they take off.
**w**
Across the hangar is Tech, fires licking upward around them, sparks singing his boots.
Through water or fire, nothing will keep them apart.
The other CX's – four of them – form out behind him, with dozens and dozens of troops.
"W – we can take 'em," Wrecker protests.
"No, we can't," Crosshair snaps back, heart pounding and grabbing his right hand with his left to keep his rifle even somewhat still. "Not in your condition. We need to fall back."
"Crosshair," Hunter starts protesting as he stands, firing a few shots at the oncoming troops.
It's so sharply different from the "if you wanna stay here and die, that's your call" of years ago and this is something Crosshair will do for him, anyway – it'd be better for him to die here, anyway – before he messes up something else.
"Go!" he snaps, "I'll be right behind you." He means it, too – he's not going to try to get himself killed here if he doesn't have to be. They have to get Omega, but he's not sacrificing Hunter and Wrecker to do it.
The fight is fast. Brief.
Crosshair brings the ceiling down on them, cutting off and slowing the incoming troops.
An explosion from a gunship takes out Hunter.
Wrecker's hit by an electric projectile by another of the CX's, and Crosshair blows up his shield to take him out, running to his twin.
It's so, so fast and all that stands between Hunter and Wrecker, and death or worse is Crosshair, just as he was afraid of.
And he has never been so terrified in his life.
Crosshair runs to him, yanking out his brother's ridiculously massive knife and slicing through the metal mechanism, prying it off Wrecker's legs so he can move and get Hunter out of here.
He hadn't meant this when he promised to cover them.
Wrecker's hand is pressed to the slit in his armor, the claw mark across his chest, his body still smoking.
Footsteps draw his attention upward to where one of the CXs is charging him. 3. The one with an electrospear.
Crosshair draws his hand blaster, about to fire, a shot that would take him straight through the head, but the CX bodily slams into him, hurling him backward into a debris pile.
His head smacks against the metal, stars blurring his vision.
His head is spinning, body aching – his back hurts and so does his hand a dozen other things he can't even pinpoint. He doesn't make it to focusing, to seeing until he hears Wrecker's screams. That sound would drag him back to consciousness from anywhere, and he forces himself up enough to look up and see where the CX has Wrecker down, the sparking side of his electrospear against the wound on his chest.
That'll kill him.
Crosshair dives forward, reaching for his dropped blaster, but his hand falls just short when a boot slams down on his wrist.
He looks up, and yeah, nicely waiting for his own turn of doing absolutely nothing, is Tech.
A million thoughts blur over in his mind – I'm sorry you're still my brother I love you we miss you come home I hurt you I killed you I'm sorry I need you –
But any and all logical thought and words vanish from mind, and all that comes out is a quiet, panicked gasp.
Wrecker's struggling. Screaming. He needs him.
He's going to die, just like Crosshair knew he would. and he can't let that happen, but he can't –
Footsteps round him, and a vibrosword is thrown to Tech.
Crosshair's gut plummets.
No.
"Tech," he whispers, broken and panicked – they aren't allowed to use names, and calling him will be worse but stars they need him this is his brother. The one who stood by them and always knew and –
The blade levels at his wrist and Crosshair struggles against it, shoving at Tech's boot with his other hand, but his leg is metal and he knows that though he has no idea how it happened.
He thought of a million things to say, to try to reach for him with but Crosshair's mind blanks out entirely.
"You should be more careful," he says, voice filtered and muffled by his helmet. Not him. It's not him it's not – "With your shooting hand."
There's a woosh of the vibrosword slashing down, and a raw, blinding pain explodes in his wrist.
That's the last thing he remembers.
**w**
Consciousness flickers in and out, but the one thing that never subsides is the burning agony in his wrist, and the throbbing in his head fully intently rivaling the migraines he got back around Order 66.
Ow.
And ow.
And OW.
All he remembers hearing are a muffled "Tech, that's your name, you're our brother, don't you remember anything?"
Everything's in chaos when Crosshair fully – mostly fully – wakes from the crashing.
Hemlock and a clone commando drag Omega out of the room. Wrecker tackles CX-3 through the observatory window like the moron he is, and yells at them to get the kid.
That's basically the only thing Crosshair knows as he stumbles off the table, politely requesting his brain to stop making him see three of everybody, except the hand he can't see at all.
Hunter grabs his shoulder to steady him, even if he's the one who looks like he's about to fall flat on his face and not move again for a century. "I'll find Omega. You should stay here."
"Not a chance," Crosshair growls. "We're doing this together."
He glances at Tech's still form – isn't asking.
Tech –
Oh, stars, he can't think about that at all.
He can't – can't –
Hunter snatches up a couple of blasters for them both, and they head for the door, leaning into each other for mutual support. Hunter's face is pale, and Crosshair doesn't want to know.
They shoot down the ship – Tech's ship – the commando with Hemlock, and – and finally Hemlock himself.
Omega looks at them, smiling, then freezes when her gaze turns past them.
Crosshair twists around, the rain soaking through him, just like where this started – water, always water, always drowning.
Tech stands in the shadow, the lightning flashes reflecting off his armor in shattered waves, glinting and shimmering.
Tech.
Crosshair stops breathing.
"You had your chance to be one of us."
Omega moves forward, past them, even if Crosshair has never been more tempted to yank her back. He can't though – can't put his blaster down, and – and –
"Tech," she says, looking up at him, guarded but unafraid, "It's okay. Hemlock's gone. You don't have to listen to his orders anymore."
The black helmet tilts. She's trying, but –
Hunter said not to give up on him.
"People can change."
Crosshair can't believe this is him. Wants to. Can't.
Tech –
"You should be more careful –"
His arm is burning and burning and he keeps thinking he feels it, feels something, but there's nothing but emptiness. It hurts enough it takes his breath away until he can't breathe at all.
He can't fight Tech again. He doesn't have the strength too. Literally. He can't, physically, and after everything Tech did for them, everything Crosshair did to him, he can't.
Tech lifts his blaster, firing. Hunter fires a stunbolt at him, and Tech drops into a roll up against the edge of the bridge, the shot missing. Omega takes Crosshair's blaster and fires a shot of her own, though it diffuses over one of the rail bars.
Tech shoots Hunter's blaster out of her hands.
Crosshair tries to move. Tries, really, but his head spins wildly, stars blurring over his vision, nearly blacking out.
He grips the railing, panting, trying to focus – all he knows for sure is that the others are fighting Tech. Omega's hanging off the edge of the railing, trying to climb back up – Crosshair's heart clenches in a panic when he sees it, and he's about to move to her, but Tech takes down Hunter, throwing him onto the walkway where he smacks the ground with a gasping grunt, then turns to Crosshair.
He scoots back, heart pounding.
"Tech," is all he can whisper, scooting back, tears falling freely down his face.
"You should be more careful –"
"You had your chance to be one of us."
He can't deal with Tech hurting him again. Not – he deserves it, really, because Crosshair is the one who led to this, who made all the stupid, stupid choices leading up to Tech's fall, to Eriadu. They would never have been there if not for him. If not for Crosshair.
He deserves this.
If Tech is the one to do it to him.
He tries to scoot back, but the bridge's edge is too close, and his head is spinning. There's nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.
Tech pauses – he's lost his blaster, though that only makes Crosshair warier. "Why do you keep calling me that?" The black mask studies him, cold and emotionless, as always.
"That's your name. And you're still my brother." His arm is burning. He's going to die here, he's – it hurts everything hurts it won't stop –
Please. He wants to say it. Feels it in his throat, but he won't. He made this. He –
"You're my mission."
"Then finish it." Lightning flashes, the flashing photons jarring his eyes and grating in his skull. "I'm not leaving you again."
Tech slowly lowers his blaster. Lightning flashes again, flickering as he draws his helmet off, throwing the first flash of light across his too-pale face. He looks awful, but still him.
Hunter and Omega are standing behind him, half clinging to each other, half leaning on each other, watching.
The air is tense, but Crosshair already knows how this is ending.
Tech moves past him, typing on the armband on his arm. He's calling his ship.
Hunter moves forward, helping Crosshair upright. He's freezing.
The ship levels in front of Tech. Omega clings to Crosshair's arm as they watch.
Tech doesn't look back until he's in the cockpit, his helmet on the control panel beside him – a jagged crack across the front and one of its lenses Crosshair doesn't remember noticing. There's some sort of recognition in it.
Ryloth. He remembers Hunter looking back.
This has happened before.
This time, he's not alone.
They stand there together, just the three of them, in the pouring rain, watching the ship carry Tech somewhere far, far away.
**w**
They sit together, beneath the central tree, watching. Taking a few minutes to just exist and let time pass, to breathe.
They've been through so much, but they all came out, even if not all... in one piece.
The evening sunshine falls across them as Echo gathers the clones still willing to fight up and prepares to head out, back to the never-ending battle, but for once, Crosshair feels safely away.
Untouched.
Something in his mind has finally settled, and he's not sure what, but he thinks he likes it.
It's Emerie who comes over to them, shuffling a little, eyes downcast, but still here. "I wanted to tell you I was going," she offers quietly, "To... say goodbye."
"You sure?" Hunter queries, "You've never been a soldier, have you?"
"No," she answers, eyes sliding to Crosshair, "But I have a lot to make up for. To all of you."
She's so different now, from where she was months ago, when Crosshair had first seen her. Somehow quieter, more withdrawn though more open at once, drowning in the same endless shame and emptiness which Crosshair himself knows so well.
He knows what it means to be used, to be nothing, cast aside and forgotten. The Empire did the same to him, and he sympathized with her greatly, even if he's not sure he can ever forgive what she did to him.
She tortured him.
For hours.
Maybe days.
"We've all made mistakes, Emerie," Hunter replies for all of them, his eyes flickering towards Crosshair, though that's a topic that – as always – they'll never broach. "What matters is that we learn from them, and try to make it right."
"I will," she promises, "I know Tech is still out there somewhere. I'll find a way to bring him home."
Emerie doesn't even know them. She doesn't know Tech, and she possibly never will, but she has a courage and stoicism that reminds him so jarringly of Hunter, a fiercely dedicated loyalty so characteristic of Wrecker. And Crosshair thinks he sees for the first time how this could be their sister, how Omega could have loved her.
She could die from this, and Emerie could choose any other life where she would be safe, but she chose them, chose her family, to bring back together another she has never seen and possibly will never be a part of.
She could've walked away, but she's choosing to dedicate her life to them alone, to bring their brother back – a mission even they failed on. For someone she never met, who never knew her.
Maybe Emerie doesn't have his forgiveness – Crosshair's not quite ready to go that far yet – but she certainly has his respect.
Hunter's smile is soft and genuine. "I know," he says simply, the words carrying more belief and certainty than anything else ever could.
Emerie's smile is pained, but there, and she nods to Omega who returns it, before heading back for the shuttle.
They watch her go, her and Echo.
They don't have to fight anymore. Echo and Emerie will finish cleaning up, and they'll – they'll bring Tech home.
Emerie could change, could free herself.
Maybe Tech can, too. Maybe he's still out there. The one they knew and loved.
For the first time in Crosshair's life, he's calm.
Maybe there is hope for them yet.
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