Chapter 3 - Acceptance

The restraints dig into his wrists when he struggles, holding him down, still, immobile. The blade is pressed against his chest, searing across his skin. Burning.

He can't breathe. Back is pressed as tightly as he can against the metal, but he can't –

He chokes on a scream. This is deeper than the one on his arm. He doesn't know if it hurts more, but he can't breathe can't stop crying and the twitching of his body from sobs makes it –

The room smells awful and breathing in makes his stomach roll and he wants to throw up just from the pain. It never stops.

He needs it to stop can't do this – stars he doesn't want to die but if they're going to kill him, he wishes they'd just do it. It's not worth this nothing's worth this and the blade is on his skin, close enough it can could go through his heart and he doesn't want to die like this.

Crosshair lashes out with his mild, desperately, wildly, struggling to break away.

The Inquisitor's shoved back, but it's not enough to break his restraints, enough to – anything.

The Grand Inquisitor stands, lightsaber still in hand. Still here, and he can't think about anything else.

"I can still – find them," Crosshair gasps, shaking. Tears are hot on his face and his entire body is burning. He needs to move, to get away, to get out. The Inquisitor is coming closer again. "Let me try, let – please –" He's crying and the movement hurts, talking hurts and his chest is burning and burning.

It's going to be a miracle if he's even able to get his tunic off with how much of it has melted to his skin.

"You think yourself capable of success when you failed once?"

"Please," he begs, struggling even if his wrists are bruised and the touch of metal tears open the burn over his hand again. He feels the blood.

He can't do this anymore. He can't live in this, can't –

"You're weak. You've always been weak."

No. He can't – can't –

There's a hand on his throat, crushing and crushing and it's dark everywhere and the water is closing in on him.

"I will find you," a voice hisses beside him, "You can't escape me."

He jolts upright, gasping, arm smacking sharply into something soft he realizes a second later was Wrecker.

Oops.

"Crosshair," Hunter's hand is on his shoulder, "Breathe. It's okay. You're safe."

He looks around, scanning the Marauder, air still coming in strangled gasps. "I saw him. I –"

"He's dead, Crosshair," Wrecker promises, "You killed 'im."

Omega's sitting up, working on a datapad, and it filters in slowly that they're on another mission finally. "Tech, when will we get there?" she inquires. It's a good way of distracting him, and he's grateful.

Crosshair rubs at his chest, willing the phantom pains away. He hates seeing how awful the scarring is there. And everywhere.

"Within the hour," he replies, "However, ipsium mining is not something we have had prior experience with. It may be a complicated mission."

Hunter's watching Crosshair worriedly, but they don't talk about it again.

"I find it unusual," he overhears Hunter saying some minutes later when he's up in the cockpit alone with Tech, "That he had this dream after touching the Force again. Mine... keep getting worse. I think the search might be increasing."

"That is highly probable," Tech agrees, quietly, "After our sighting on Kashyyyk."

...

Kriff.

**w**

Wrecker stays outside on watch when they go into the mine for the ipsium, but apparently, that's not enough to stop their ship from being stolen.

Oh, he sensed it alright, but got there too late, and Crosshair is genuinely irked.

"There has to be a way to get it back, right?" Omega asks, wide-eyed. She looks like she wants to cry, and it hurts an almost unreasonable amount. Crosshair has never felt protective of someone before, and he has no idea how to handle it now that he does. Everything with the kid is... different. He wants her to have a life better than what they did, but he doesn't think this is the right life for her.

Or for anyone.

Not that it matters right now, because their ship and way off world is gone.

"I would be more concerned about the evidence on our ship then that we lost it," Tech replies, "We can always acquire another means of transport."

The evidence. Yeah – that's what they should be most worried about. Between Gonky's memory banks, the kyber crystal, Tech's padawan braid, all of their Jedi robes, spare lightsaber pieces, and Anakin's frequency in their comms... It's obvious they're Jedi. They hide their things from view if the wrong person is aboard, and watch them constantly, but it's not going to be enough to keep any of them safe.

And they're grounded on-world when the Empire is nipping at their heels, even if they're not on the planet yet.

"We can't stay here," Hunter sighs, "Where's the nearest town?"

"During our approach, I scanned a spaceport approximately 40 klicks south of here. Perhaps we can acquire transport there," Tech offers.

"You know how long that would take?" Wrecker whines.

"Since we do not have access to long-range communications without our ship, it is our only option."

Ah, great. Another loooong trek. He was really hoping to just get back to Ord Mantell and get out of here. At least on Ord Mantell, they know the place and can easily disappear.

"How could you not sense something like this?" Crosshair asks. He's not mad at Wrecker, exactly, but he's still upset.

"I dunno," Wrecker admits, "I went as soon as I sensed it."

"Evidently," Tech replies, "There is some reason this was required to happen."

"How can you say that?" Omega queries, wounded. "The Marauder's our home! With Kamino gone, it's the only one we have."

Kamino was destroyed somehow. Anakin had commed them a while back, just to give them a rundown on how it had been the Empire who destroyed it. They blew Kamino into the sea. Crosshair will never get to see it again, just like he'll never get to see the Temple again. And now, they've lost the Marauder and Gonky, too.

"We are Jedi," Tech tells her, "We must adapt to whatever circumstances in which we find ourselves if we are to survive."

"Easy for you to say," Crosshair snaps back.

"I am merely saying there must be some reason this was intended to happen, whether it is something we understand or not."

Crosshair scoffs.

"We'll try finding the Marauder after we get some cover," Hunter interrupts. "The storm is changing course. We need to move."

**w**

They end up sitting it out in another mine when the storm hits, near the entrance, but far enough away to be safe. Hunter has one of the lanterns on, and they sit together in the dim lighting.

Tech is typing on his datapad, and sighs frustratedly. Crosshair holds his tongue.

Wrecker's slumped against the ipsium case, looking torn between napping and punching something. He's more upset than he's letting on.

"Let it go, Omega," Hunter instructs gently, squeezing his youngest padawan's shoulder. "We need to put purpose ahead of feeling. Focus on the mission over your emotions."

Crosshair could never figure out what that meant. Calm just isn't for him.

She sighs. "I know, Master."

Crosshair twitches. Tries not to visibly react, but all four of them are watching him. He hates that word. They never called Hunter that, simply because of what it meant with Krell.

"Our emotions are... natural, but we need to learn to work past them. There's still a chance we'll get our ship back."

"Did the Force tell you that, too?" Crosshair grumbles nastily.

"I didn't sense we'd lose it, even if we're away for a while."

"The Marauder's transponder is not relaying a signal," Tech reports, "I suspect it was disabled by the thief who commandeered it."

"Don't ya have some sorta – secondary tracker?" Wrecker asks.

"Locating a ship is not the same as a person," Hunter says, "But I suspect if we focus, we should be able to find some type of lead."

Add to the list of things Crosshair's useless at.

He glares straight ahead of him, shifting back against the wall and pulling his knees up. He wants to curl up in a miserable ball and forget everything else.

Omega settles down, hands on her knees and closes her eyes. She looks steadily more peaceful like that. At least she's doing well.

Silence lapses for many minutes, until he hears the storm slowly abating.

"Gonky," Omega mutters, opening her eyes. "We do have a secondary tracker. On Gonky. We can try tracking him, right?"

"Oh." Tech blinks, picking up his datapad again, "Ingenious idea."

Hunter smiles at her, his face bright and gentle. She grins up at him, and Omega pats his thigh. Hunter lays his hand over hers, squeezing it gently.

Crosshair tries pretending it doesn't make his heart ache. (What wouldn't he do to have a shred of that lightness himself?)

**w**

The trip to getting the Marauder back is frankly ridiculous. They get their ship alright, and stumble on an ipsium mine, stage a rebellion and revolution on the way. Crosshair doesn't blink about shooting the leader – Mokko – despite the Jedi's questionableness of it. Not like he's a Jedi, anyway.

Omega beats up a droid on her own, and Hunter catches her when she's knocked over the edge of a broken walkway.

Wrecker and Tech nicely slice up the droids with Mokko.

Fun times.

Crosshair's still sore about the ship thief thing, though.

"Good to have you back," Wrecker tells Gonky, scooping him up in his usual overaggressive hug. The droid honks back at him.

"Here's your stuff," Benni the ship thief offers, pushing up a cart of a bunch of their crates.

"All of it?" Hunter asks.

"Yeah, don't you trust me?" They all look at him blankly. "Okay, that's fair," he huffs, "But it's all there. I – uh – didn't know you were Jedi. But I guess we owe you one."

"Surprised you didn't figure it out after going on our ship," Crosshair grumbles.

"Well, I wasn't really lookin' around. I was just bringing it back to Mokko." He was being starved. They all were, and Crosshair is still admittedly horrified by their treatment, even if he's still highly unappreciative of the boy's actions. Though Crosshair did terrible things to protect himself, too. It's not like Benni was any worse.

"So, what will all of you do now?" Omega inquires. His brothers are spreading out to take their stuff back aboard, and he moves to help them. That's more important.

Crosshair's coming out to collect the last piece when he sees Tech pausing by Omega with a "what is it?"

"The Empire's not the only threat," Omega admits, "We've seen so many in the galaxy like Mokko."

"Unfortunately, yes," Tech agrees, squeezing her shoulder. "That is why we must help those we can. Even small choices are something. And there are many like us out there as well." That sounds like something Anakin would have said. They learned as much from him as from Krell. Maybe more. Krell taught them how to use a lightsaber, how to use the Force, but Anakin taught them what it meant to be a Jedi.

Omega smiles up at him, nodding, and they move for the ship.

His little sister sits in one of the seats in the back of the cockpit, spinning her chair around. "Well," she says, "Now I know why our ship had to get stolen. If not for that, we never would've been able to help Benni and the rest of those kids."

It doesn't feel like that could possibly be true for everything, but Crosshair has to grudgingly admit he would've said the same about this.

"That is what I was referring to," Tech tells him, touching his shoulder.

"You think my capture was worth it?" Crosshair asks bluntly, pausing on the way up front.

"We were able to eliminate the majority of the Inquisitors," Tech reminds, "If not for that, more would be hunting us along with any other surviving Jedi."

"So, you're saying... it was worth it?"

Tech pauses beside him, and Crosshair can't look at him. He doesn't want to talk about it, but the constant aching in his heart never goes away. "You and Wrecker were able to make the best out of an... unpleasant situation. I would say that is what makes it count."

Crosshair sighs. He wants to cry again. He's been having at least one breakdown daily. It's getting ridiculous.

Tech's hand grips his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "Despite it all, we are together again."

That's all that matters. He knows that. "What about the reg that died?" he asks.

"Echo," Hunter interrupts, "His name was Echo."

"He was aware of the risks," Tech answers, "Coming to rescue Hunter was a choice he made. There is always a cost in war."

"It was something he chose," Hunter interjects quietly, "Even if it cost him his life."

They never knew Echo, and never really cared for him, but... Crosshair still feels a weight over his death.

It's another life that's on him.

Hunter's gaze turns back to the controls, a visible frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" Wrecker asks.

"I just have a feeling," Hunter answers, "There's a disturbance in the Force. I'm not sure going back to Ord Mantell is a good idea."

"We don't have anywhere else to go," Omega protests.

"We better comm Cid," Hunter sighs, "Something's not right."

**w**

Cid doesn't pick up right away, and the quiet nervousness gnaws at them as they wait in silence for the trandoshan's call back.

"You boys must be pretty popular these days," Cid gripes when her blue hologram flickers to life. She looks disgruntled and extra cranky, which immediately puts Crosshair fully on edge.

"Something wrong?" Hunter asks.

"Some cranky lady with a red glowstick came by," she informs, and Crosshair's mind screeches to a halt, "Was asking about you. Said there was some sighting on Kashyyyk."

"It does not sound like it is safe for us there any longer," Tech sighs.

"We can drop the ipsium off with Phee," Hunter suggests, "But if the Empire came there looking for us..."

"Well, well, you boys got yourselves a place to stay?"

"We're... working on it. But if we go back, you'll be in as much danger as us."

"Well," Cid replies, "It's been nice knowing ya, but you've got too much heat on you."

The words are starting to blur together, looping in and out of his mind and incoherent over the sound of his racing heart.

The Inquisitor was on Ord Mantell. Somehow, she tracked them there. Force, they have nowhere to go. Hunter will figure something out, but they were so, so close – if they'd gotten back earlier, they would've lost everything.

Maybe Tech's not so wrong, after all.

Omega slides her small hand into Crosshair's, her face ashen. This time, she's wordless.

**w**

The last mission Cid sends them on is to retrieve cargo of some crashed ship. Zero further intel. Crosshair is growing increasingly irked with her. He could swear, she's either begging someone to end up dead, or trying her best to test his ire.

"The crashed vessel appears mostly intact," Tech reports, looking at the computer screen, "The cargo aboard should be in fair enough condition to transport."

"Assuming it's something we want to transport," Crosshair grumbles. He can't even say what has him so on edge, but well, he's always on edge now.

They land the Marauder nearby, and disembark, flashlights out and in hand. He doesn't see any sign of danger, but the shuttle doesn't look like it's in good shape. Hunter pauses when they're on the way, glancing back at the Marauder, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Omega asks.

"Something's... not right. We better get moving."

"What kind of ship is this?" Wrecker queries.

"Don't know. No hull markings," Hutner answers.

"Based on the severity of the impact and the lack of communication signals, the crew aboard most likely perished," Tech replies.

"We don't know for sure," Omega objects, already at the doorway, "They could be trapped inside. Come on." She gestures for them to keep moving, and Crosshair follows in the back, keeping an eye out on their rear, just in case.

"That might not be a good thing," he grumbles.

"We don't know anything right now," Hunter replies, "I don't sense the main source of danger aboard this ship, but... something is wrong. Let's keep moving."

They head inside, and all they can tell is that the power is completely out, and there are no signs of people. Whatsoever.

"Something... unfortunate happened here," Tech announces, shining his flashlights at some awful and genuinely very disturbing claw marks on the wall.

"Whatever did this wasn't human," Hunter agrees.

"No kidding," Crosshair grumbles. Obviously, no human could have zillo-beast claw-marks. Those things are huge and wickedly dangerous. Why were animals being transported? And who was transporting something so... dangerous? He still doesn't know what happened to the crew.

"Uh," Wrecker says worriedly, kicking at an electrostaff laying on the floor, "I think the crew might be dead."

"It feels like death," Hunter agrees, "Pain. Whatever animal here isn't... to be underestimated."

"I will get the power restored and check data logs on the bridge," Tech offers.

"Do it," Hunter agrees, "Crosshair, go with him and keep an eye out. The animal's still aboard."

"How sure are you?"

"Very. We are also likely headed right towards it."

So that's why he doesn't want Crosshair to come. He thinks he's incapable. He's not wrong, but it still hurts, and Crosshair sharply turns away and stalks after Tech down the dark halls.

"Crosshair," Tech says as they walk, "What is upsetting you?"

"You think I'm weak. Since I don't use the Force."

"You are more at risk," Tech replies.

"We weren't always Jedi. We wouldn't be weak even if we weren't."

"We may not have chosen to become Jedi, but we are more effective because of it. Fighting the past instead of accepting it will not change what has happened."

"How am I supposed to accept it?" Crosshair snaps back, "We were made to be soldiers. Not Jedi."

"We are everything we always have been, though perhaps, better. We have a stability and an ally in the Force that we would not have had otherwise."

"The Force never took me anywhere," Crosshair snarls.

"Did the Force tell you to turn on the Jedi? Is that what you believed it was requesting of you?"

Crosshair glares at him. No. It didn't, and everyone knows that. That was – it was –

"It was your inhibitor chip that brought you to the Dark," Tech continues, "That was not your choice. But now, whether you let it go, or hold it in – that will be your choice to make. You can still choose, Crosshair."

"I made my choice."

"Not one out of fear. I... understand you are afraid to trust in the Force. To trust in anyone." They finally enter the cockpit together, and Tech plugs his datapad into the control panel. "But the Force does not lie. Our own desires will imbalance us and our ability to interpret the messages being passed on to us, but the Force is the one thing that never lies."

"Aren't you supposed to be rerouting the power?" Crosshair asks, because he really can't think of anything else to say. He knows Tech is right, and he hates how far he's fallen from what he used to be.

"I am multitasking." He hits a few buttons on his datapad. "As I was saying, there is only one choice ahead of you, Crosshair, whether you walk the Light or the Dark, and we will be there every step of the way."

His throat feels tight again. No, no, no, this is crazy. He's not going to start crying again. "I'm not weak," Crosshair repeats, even if he is and he knows that. He always has been. That's how the Inquisitors were able to break him so easily. How he was able to break and beg. He still can't believe he did sometimes. It hadn't – mattered, and there was nothing he could do but cry and try to understand what it was about him that made him so – like this.

"To the contrary," Tech agrees, "To survive what you have requires a strength I cannot well imagine."

The wood splinters between his teeth and Crosshair flicks his toothpick onto the floor, reaching for his rifle. "Stop trying to make me cry," he grumbles, turning to the door.

Tech looks up from the controls – Crosshair feels his eyes on him, even if he doesn't see it. "That was not my intention," Tech replies.

Crosshair sighs. "I know."

Tech shuffles closer to him as the datapad cycles something, and Crosshair turns back. His older brother draws him into a tight embrace, holding them tightly together. Tech doesn't hug much, but when he does, he's always very tight and firm and Crosshair feels like he could lose himself here. He wants to. "You will be fine," Tech promises, hand on the back of Crosshair's neck.

He wants to believe it. Really.

Hopefully that animal doesn't find them here, because it would be a very stupid way to die here in Tech's arms, but – there could be worse ways to die. "Do not say that," Tech tells him, apparently still able to read Crosshair's mind. "You will not die here, and neither will I."

Crosshair clings to him wordlessly until a sharp sound draws their attention to the hall.

Tech stays to keep working on the power, and Crosshair creeps into the hall to check it out. It's just a droid that powers right down. It doesn't make this look any less unnerving. Something's wrong.

He tries not to be jittery. His brothers are here, and Tech said...

Hunter's just worried. Crosshair understands that. It's not fair to blame him, either – they did loose Crosshair, and that isn't something he's ever let go of, either. He'd rather Tech not be out here alone, and they don't know what kind of creature this is. Hunter should be able to tame it with the Force, and if he can't Wrecker or Omega certainly could. They're both... good with animals. That's always been Wrecker's specialty. Hunter has always tried to protect them, even if Crosshair never liked his methods.

"We found the creature, anyway," Hunter says over the comm, "Still no sign of the crew. I suspect they're all dead."

"What kind of creature is it?" Crosshair asks.

"Uncertain. It's hard to tame, but Wrecker and Omega are trying. Tech, can you get a read on this?"

"This appears to be some type of research vessel," Tech replies, "Though I am uncertain as to the specifics of what was being researched."

"Tell me what you find," Hunter requests, and the connection cuts.

"Sounds like we ought to leave," Crosshair grumbles, "If there's no cargo to transport."

"Hunter will tell us to leave when it is time." Tech looks distracted now, eyes narrowing on the controls. Surprise flits across his face.

"Hunter, how certain are you that Echo was dead?"

"Fairly. Anakin said the building came down on him. He was rigging the last explosives with Fives. He was trapped inside."

"That is a sound theory," Tech replies, "However –"

A flash of red draws Crosshair's attention through the viewport, and a red lightsaber slashes down through the side of the ship, onto the controls, shorting them out and killing the power. Crosshair scrambles backwards as the ship goes dark, raising his rifle and firing.

She deflects it back through the glass where it burns a very neat hole through Tech's datapad.

That is going to be the worst mistake in her entire life.

"Crosshair," Tech orders, voice firm and void of objection, drawing his lightsaber, "Run." He goes through the viewport in a shatter of glass, lightsaber first. Crosshair jerks backwards to dodge the shards.

He rocks backwards, firing at the Inquisitor again, but she deflects it back at him. Crosshair ducks into a roll, already anticipating that move.

Tech tackles her, throwing her off the ship and they fall out of sight to the ground far below.

The controls are burning in a couple places, little flames sparking off the wires, sparks still running across their entirety.

Crosshair grabs the smoking remains of his brother's datapad, the screen now dark and the entire thing still sparking – it singes his fingers, but he's had worse – and runs.

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