Chapter 5 - Pabu

In which the Bad Batch try to spend some quiet time on Pabu, and it doesn't go as planned. xD

~ Rivana Rita

Pabu is a good place to stay. Phee took them here after some missions together. She's nice, most of the time, even if she drives Crosshair crazy. Hunter, too, considering how he'd dragged her off with words about how she's flirting with his padawan, and Jedi aren't supposed to have relationships.

Whatever all that was about.

He has no idea, but it didn't sound like his problem.

What is most definitely his problem is when they're having a meal with the mayor and the ground starts trembling under their feet. Earthquake. Crosshair's never experienced those before, but he's heard a lot about natural disasters. They all learned about them, and being from Kamino, he's never had any experience with it. Not really. If there was a quake, it'd be followed by a tsunami, which was never a problem there. Here, though, everything's exposed.

"I suggest we evacuate all the residence to upper Pabu immediately," Tech warns.

"I'll go get the ship and get Lyanna and Omega," Hunter says, "The rest of you, get everyone to Upper Pabu."

Too much to ask for one relaxing evening.

The three of them split up. This is somewhat familiar. They've had to evacuate areas before, usually in Separatist occupations. Never good times, but it's relieving to do something he's done before.

Wrecker and Shep are still out, but Crosshair moves off with Tech and Phee to keep shooing people for the stairs.

"There are too many trying to get through at once. They will not make it before the surge hits," Tech calls over the noise. Crosshair thinks he can feel the fear in the air. He feels something, anyway. "We must use additional means to get them over the wall."

"We can deploy the rescue ladders," Phee calls back, pointing to some unreasonably rusty looking ladders.

"When was the last time those were used?" Crosshair asks dryly.

"Hang on," Tech requests, yanking his grappling hook off his belt – if they weren't under such tight time, Crosshair is fully certain he'd have climbed – and aiming for the top of the wall. Phee wraps an arm over his shoulder, and Tech's grappling line yanks them up.

The ladders are clearly stuck, and Tech just takes a lightsaber to them.

Phee throws a rescue ladder down, and Tech's working on the others.

Crosshair turns back. Still no sign of the Marauder, but Hunter probably made it off long ago. He hasn't seen Wrecker or Shep yet. There's no sign of them. "Still no sign of Wrecker," he calls.

"Crosshair, come up here." Tech's voice is short and sharp. He's scared. He can feel it, a strange whispering uncertainty.

"I'm going to get Wrecker."

"That is an order."

"You are not my master."

"But I am a senior padawan, and your older brother."

"Wrecker's still out there."

"Wrecker is a Jedi. He will be safer than you are down there." Alright, fine. Have it Tech's way – he does outrank him. He'll come up, if only to put his brother's mind at ease, even if he's decidedly unhappy over the babying.

Not that he minds. Being so close to such a large body of water is making his skin crawl. He decidedly does not like it.

Tech reaches over to grab his arm when he's close enough, tugging him over the wall. His arm wraps around Crosshair's middle, holding him at his side to steady him, but he's fairly certain it's more just to hold him than of necessity.

He moves back to the edge, looking for Wrecker. The water's closing in now. Fast.

Crosshair's heart is pounding, and he digs his fingers into the rocky edge of the wall. Waiting. Always waiting. He hates waiting.

Hates the dark. Hates the water.

Wrecker's coming – Crosshair can see him now. He's with Shep and one last person, the same old man they saw earlier. "Wrecker!"

"I see ya!" he calls back.

Climbing the ladder takes forever. The water's closing in now, and Crosshair can only watch. Tech is watching, too, shoulders high and tense as he observes the incoming tide. Logic says he won't make it, but he has to make it because he's Wrecker. and Crosshair can't lose him again.

They do make it up the ladder. Barely. Or, mostly. Wrecker and some of the other unnamed civilians help the old man over the edge, and Wrecker jumps over himself.

That's when the wave crashes in.

Crosshair flinches back, heart hammering and the air in his lungs compressing in on itself. He can't breathe.

The spray splashes everyone, but Shep's still on the ladder and Wrecker grabs his wrist to keep him from falling. Tech jerks forwards, hands raised, eyes closed, and Crosshair feels the flaring, burning energy. The tide cuts against his shield, breaking and falling on the one thing always too strong to stop it.

He hasn't seen someone use the Force like this in so long. It's mind blowingly epic to see, but Crosshair thinks what makes all of them better is that they don't have the same restraint the Jedi do. His brothers don't hold back.

Crosshair steps behind his older brother instinctively. It's eternally instinctive that Tech will always protect him, and Crosshair will always believe that.

Wrecker and Shep climb to safety, a bit wet, but otherwise fine.

He spots the Marauder sailing past, Lyanna and Omega on the ramp, waving. They're fine. Hunter must be flying, which means everyone's fine.

They're... all fine.

**w**

Water splashes over him, burning and smothering and his chest is on fire, his lungs screaming for air that can't come hard as he tries. Tears cascade down his face, burning and drowning and the hands on him are too – too much.

He can't breathe or move and someone's holding him, pinning him down as hard as he thrashes. He can't breathe. Can't – he's going to die he's going to die here he'll never make it out – it's just cold and wet and –

"Crosshair!" Someone's yelling his name. Just – someone. He lashes out, trying to get away. To move. To something.

Someone's gripping his arm, and Crosshair wrenches his arm free, scrambling back and smacking into something – something.

"Don't touch him, Wrecker!" That's Hunter.

"I was just trynna help!"

"I know, but this is one of those times he doesn't want it."

He hears their voices, their words, but nothing makes sense. Nothing – his heart is pounding, and his chest is closing in. It's dark, too dark and he's gasping, struggling to breathe in when he can't breathe at all. His face is wet. Everything is wet. Always wet, always –

Someone's moving, coming closer – hands there are always hands, always holding and pinning and hurting when all he wants is to be held –

"Crosshair." A tiny hand touches his. Omega. The kid. Small. Safe. It's – it won't hurt. "You're okay. We're on Pabu. There was a tsunami last night, do you remember? It's almost dawn now."

He blinks, looking. Opening his eyes and seeing for what feels like the first time, even if his chest is still heaving. He scoots back a bit, pressing himself against the tree in the center square. The air smells like the ocean. It's not like the musty cell. He can be safe here. Is safe, just...

"Can the others come over now?"

Crosshair looks at them, where Hunter and Wrecker are crouched beside each other and where Tech is sitting, their faces worried and closed off. It's just – them. They won't hurt him. Even if they could. He nods, trying not to tense when Hunter brushes his shoulder.

They're quiet. Everything is quiet and tense, dead and void with just his racing heart and the impossibility of inhaling deeply enough to not be cut short. He closes his eyes. Tries to breathe. Wants someone to hold him. Knows he'd panic again if they did.

"Say something," Crosshair hisses.

"Like what?" Omega asks.

"Anything."

"I miss your hair," Wrecker announces, and Hunter throws him a dirty look. "What? It's true! Why'd you cut it, anyway?"

Crosshair self-consciously pokes at the scar on his head. Tries to feel the touch instead of the plasma blade.

Omega presses in on his side, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her touch helps. She's small. He doesn't have to be afraid of her.

"Got tired of getting it pulled," he mutters, which is also the blatant truth. He was. It happened... a lot.

"It was hardly long enough for that," Tech points out, oblivious.

Crosshair bites his lip, fumbling for another of his toothpicks. He wants something to – to –

Break.

He's so scared.

"It's nice here," Hunter says, "I was thinking we could stick around a while and help rebuild. If you're alright with it, of course."

"I had the same idea," Tech agrees.

"Fine with me," Wrecker concurs.

Crosshair shrugs. His heart is still pounding, and he knows he doesn't have the rationality of making any sort of decision right now. "We don't have anywhere else to go."

"Can I ask what... set this off?" Hunter asks.

"I don't like water."

"Why not?" Omega asks.

Crosshair tenses up, his body coiling. He doesn't mean to snap, because this is Omega, but he's just... "That tends to happen, after nearly drowning fifty times."

Hunter looks away. Wrecker and Tech are looking at Hunter, like he would know, but this – thankfully – is one thing Crosshair never got to do to him. He – probably would've. Has to admit that. he wanted to. And he was going to do whatever he wanted. "I'm sorry we didn't come for you," is all he offers, voice quiet.

They want to help him. Anakin had reminded him of that, and Crosshair thinks it might've helped. Maybe. He can pretend. "I know. But it doesn't really matter."

"Would living by an ocean be hard?"

"I –" He thinks so. But it's so bright and fresh here. So different. It wasn't being here that triggered it. It was the tsunami. He's been jittery and remembering ever since. "–don't know."

"Take your time," Hunter promises, "Whatever you need. But – can I touch you?"

He nods hesitantly.

Hunter's hand touches his face, and he leans down to press his lips to Crosshair's forehead.

His eyes close and he leans into it, willing himself to relax. Maybe if he's lucky, he'll get to fall asleep again tonight.

**w**

Hunter's been unreasonably jittery all morning. All he said when Wrecker finally cornered to ask what his issue is was that he thinks something's coming, and they're... winding down.

Whatever that means.

Crosshair's been thinking about it ever since, but considering Anakin commed right after to drop a message that he's coming by to give them some sort of catch-up and that he could use some help with decrypting data.

Crosshair spots the ship from far away, and he and Hunter set the trek from the docks right up to the landing platform.

Hunter's face brightens almost unreasonably when he lays eyes on Anakin again, striding forwards to grip his hand, but it turns into a full-blown hug. Hunter relaxes into him, and Crosshair still finds it minorly jarring how much his oldest brother relaxes in Anakin's presence. Maybe this is what they've been missing – someone else's reassurance in looking out for them.

Anakin always made their lives make sense.

"You feel better here," Anakin tells him, pulling back and holding him at arm's length. "More at home."

"We're reevaluating," Hunter replies, "We're thinking about settling down, but... we're still not sure yet."

"It's a nice enough place, I would say, if that's what you want."

"It's what we were planning, but now that we're here, it seems..."

Anakin nods, like it makes perfect sense. It's insane, but it does to Crosshair, too. This is what he wants, but he's so afraid of a change that jarring.

He turns past Hunter, who looks far more relaxed than he has in a very long time, to Crosshair. They haven't seen each other in person since after the rescue, after Echo, and... he'd been such a mess, he hadn't really been able to thank Anakin for how much time he'd spent. If not for him, they never would've been able to take out the Inquisitors. They owe him everything.

"Crosshair," he says, extending an arm.

It feels weird to hug him, even if they have a thousand times over, but Crosshair shuffles forwards, anyway. Anakin is the one to move first this time, gathering him into a tight embrace, and he tries his best not to think about how small he was a few years ago. Anakin could actually carry him back then. Easily.

He remembers he was half Anakin's height, and he'd been mildly disconcerted with seeing a human so tall. The regs were always the same height.

"This is weird," Anakin announces.

"What? That I'm so tall?"

"No. That' I'm not the tallest person in the army."

Crosshair snorts, melting into the hands on his back, one flesh and blood and the other metal, one hard and one soft, but both unfailingly gentle. Crosshair loves him. He thinks he always has, and it's so... strange.

Anakin smiles at him when he pulls back. Whatever he sees, he seems alright with it, and Crosshair doesn't understand why. He hates himself and he thinks he always will. He wants to make up for what he did, but it's... impossible. Crosshair tries to smile back at him, at least he's grateful he's here, and he wants it to show.

The Marauder lands nearby, ramp lowering with a hiss. Omega Force-jumps off before it finishes opening, sprinting across the platform with a yell of some variation of "hiiii!"

Anakin laughs, crouching to scoop her up and spin her around. Omega squeals like she's far younger than the thirteen-year-old she is, and definitely not like she's the padawan she's supposed to be. "Can you show me how to do that?" she asks brightly.

Crosshair's about to make a snarky comment about what, pick people up? but that doesn't seem quite right.

"No," Tech answers fiercely from the doorway, smacking into its side and adjusting his goggles, "You will not be engaging Anakin Skywalker in any further flying races. Or any racing, in any shape or form."

"Hello, Tech," Anakin snips, "You don't look so good."

"That could not have any bearings with Omega nearly crashing the Marauder into the ocean," he grumbles. "She nearly drowned both of us. Are you aware of how difficult it would be to decrypt any intel if the Marauder's systems were short-circuited, along with all of my datapads?"

Omega's just laughing.

Crosshair smothers one of his own. So, in short, this is the beginning of Tech's Very Bad Day.

Apparently, Tech's not actually too annoyed about it, because that doesn't stop him and Anakin from embracing each other tightly. Tech looks more relaxed, too. Crosshair feels strangely... calm. He can't remember the last time he felt like this.

"You mentioned needing some assistance with data decryption?" Tech asks, pulling back from him.

"Yes." He plucks the cylinder from his belt, twirling it between his mechanical fingers. "Whoever encrypted this is slightly smarter than me. Artoo and I –" He pats the droid's dome. "– thought we could use your assistance. We pulled them off a transport full of clone prisoners, but we're not sure where they were headed. It's the closest to a lead we have on Echo."

Tech takes the datastick. "I will begin immediately."

"You want to show me around at all?"

"Yes!" Wrecker booms, appearing from across the platform. They run to each other, and Wrecker scoops him up like he weighs nothing. Anakin laughs, patting his shoulder. It's been a jarring length of time since Crosshair heard that, much less so light and free.

"Alright," he agrees, "We can look around and find a good sparring area."

"You got it," Wrecker concurs, setting him down.

"Oh," he adds, "First, I – I got something for Omega. I doubt you'll ever need it, but I thought she might like it."

Crosshair is going to hope this isn't another toy, but more importantly, not anything lethal. Anakin's quarters at the Temple were full of potentially lethal items. No one – save Ahsoka and Anakin himself – were brave enough to sleep in that nightmare.

Hunter doesn't look concerned, though, so Crosshair thinks he can let his guard down a bit.

He didn't quite expect the Knight to return with a pile of blur fabric tucked under his arm. "The sizes are probably off," he says sheepishly, "But I thought she might like some Jedi robes like yours, even if she never uses them."

"For me?" Omega queries, eyes wide with awe.

"If you want them, of course."

Omega looks positively ecstatic. "Hunter, can I try them on?"

Crosshair snorts. "Sure. Try on nice, new clothes over your filthy everyday ones."

She looks so indignant, it's adorable. "They'll be much dirtier if I actually use them!"

"Go on, kid," Hunter nods, "Try them. I'll help you if you need it."

He's not kidding. Jedi robes are a nightmare to put on. Crosshair is only half certain he remembers the ridiculous process himself. Not that it matters, because he'll never wear them again.

**w**

Omega's robes, though, are perfect. The inner are light blue, and the outer is a deeper one. Their colors are black and red, but blue somehow fits Omega even better. Blue is... a softer color. Black and red are the Sith's.

Hunte's running her through lightsaber forms, and she's so adorable in those robes.

"She's as cute as you were," Anakin tells Crosshair, arms crossed. He's smiling almost wistfully.

"Unlikely."

"You were so small." His smile goes from wistful to melancholy, but whatever's bothering him, he doesn't say. "Do you still remember how to use a lightsaber?"

He crashes into the floor, catching himself on his hands.

"Again, CT-9904," Krell's voice is frustrated, his massive figure looming over them, "You're weak. You're holding back."

"His name is Crosshair," little Hunter says fiercely.

"It doesn't matter what his name is," Krell snaps, "If he gets himself killed before his first mission, because he's too weak to hold a lightsaber!"

Uh. Sure. "Couldn't forget."

"Come on. Let's see what you remember."

"I don't have a lightsaber."

"You can take mine," Hunter offers, unclipping it from his belt and tossing it to him, "Or Tech's."

Crosshair catches it automatically, but it feels wrong. He hasn't held a lightsaber since the night he apparently failed to kill the Grand Inquisitor. He put it down and refused to hold another since. It's strange to be carrying one again.

"You ready?" Anakin asks him.

No, and he never will be. Crosshair ignites the blade in front of him. It's green, and he's never had a green lightsaber before, but it's just Hunter's. He can feel Hunter's presence whispering in the hilt, and it feels... nice. Nicer to hold something of Hunter's than his own, but he's hurt him so much, and he doesn't feel worthy.

"We'll start slow. Forms first."

Anakin takes it slow, just like he did so long ago, but Crosshair remembers all of this. Most of it, anyway, and he hates how much of a callback to the past it is.

All of this is giving him an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

Except Crosshair's not a child anymore, and he isn't who he used to be.

The blade feels wrong in his hands. He can hold it, but he can't imagine bringing it at someone. Really, ever. "This isn't mine."

"Of course not. It's Hunter's."

"I mean it's not my weapon."

"You don't have to learn to use it," Anakin replies, "It's your choice."

He knows that, but Wrecker had reminded him of how this is the life he'll have to choose if he wants to stay with his brothers. If he wants to be one of them. He knows the path ahead of him, but he doesn't like or want it. "I know."

"Do you? They are your family, but you don't have to walk an identical path."

"We're meant to." It could never be any other way.

"You were made for many things, Crosshair, but your destiny is your own. You still choose your own path. We were all made to serve the Sith, but that doesn't mean we have to choose that life. What people want for us and expect of us... isn't always what we choose."

"Do you think I could still be one? If I wanted to?" He's looking down at the lightsaber in his hand, wondering. Whether he should ask it back. Anakin already told him, but... it's not something he understands.

"You can be whatever you want to be, just like anyone else."

"Emerie was made to be one of us, but she never chose us."

"Maybe it's a choice you need to give her. To show her that she has a path other than the one that's been laid out for her from birth."

"Why?" Why should he? She – she fought them. She tried to kill them.

"She's a person, too, Crosshair. She deserves the same choice you had."

"Does she?"

"Can you rightfully take it from her?"

Yes. No. Maybe. He doesn't know.

"I – I don't..."

"Your brothers will take care of you," Anakin promises, "Whether you try or not."

Crosshair knows that. They're loyal. They're not like him.

Anakin moves off, pulling Hunter off and saying something about pausing training and letting the kids play. Lyanna's showed up, so it's a good idea. Better not have her picking lightsabers apart. She's already obsessing over Omega's new clothes.

Girls. Thank the stars he isn't one.

He's never gotten to just – let loose and act like a child before. Not for a long time, anyway, and when Lyanna introduces them to some strange game called tag, well, both Wrecker and Crosshair pitch him. Running in circles around the tree is slightly dizzying, but it's fun.

Crosshair jumps Wrecker when he faceplants, and Wrecker yowls. Crosshair digs his fingers into his side in a totally unexpected tickle-attack, and well – he's breaking all the rules in the game, but not like someone explained them to him, did they? They end up rolling around on the ground until Crosshair nearly gets squashed under half of Wrecker's weight, and they roll apart, flopping onto their backs and laughing until he can hardly breathe.

He can't remember the last time he actually laughed. It's been – a long time.

Hunter is smiling when he comes to get them up. "Time to go. Tech decrypted the information."

Crosshair picks himself up, offering an unnecessary hand to Wrecker. Hunter looks a little tense. Jittery. He was fine ten minutes ago. "What is it?" he asks.

For a moment, he thinks Hunter's going to answer. Instead, he shakes his head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Something about Anakin's face gives him the distinct impression that something is going on. Something's up with him and Hunter. He's just not sure what. Probably something about him, though.

"The Imperial transport this information was pulled from belongs to the Advanced Science Division," Tech announces. He looks a little more freaked out than Crosshair's seen him in a long time.

"Never heard of it," Hunter replies.

"Neither have I," Anakin agrees, "And I'm on the fronts."

"That is because it is a clandestine operation. There are no records on its location or its purpose. All I could find on it was the chief scientist in charge, Dr. Royce Hemlock. An officer expelled from the Republic science corps due to his unauthorized and unorthodox experiments."

Crosshair is getting a steadily worse feeling about this.

"Why were they sending clone prisoners to him?" Omega inquires.

"I don't know," Tech replies, "But I suspect because of our similar genetic code, he would be... ideal for experimentation."

"I think there's more to it than that," Anakin interrupts.

"What does that mean?" Omega inquires quietly.

"I don't know. The Force is... clouded."

"Anything on Echo?"

"There is a list of clone prisoners who have been recently transported," Tech confirms, "Echo is among them."

Anakin closes his eyes and lets out a sigh more relieved than Crosshair's ever seen him. "Any lead on finding Hemlock's base of operations?"

"I will have to look into it more."

"Do it," Hunter requests, "We've got find it."

"We'll disintegrate them," Artoo whistles gleefully. For a Jedi droid, he's awfully violent-prone. Crosshair likes him.

"Yes, we will, buddy," Anakin agrees, petting his dome. "Artoo and I will help however we can. The rest of you might want to get some rest. We've got a mission ahead of us."

Final Notes: Reviews are always appreciated! ^-^

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