The Unmaking

Pantora It Is

A/N: I HAVE RETURNED TO THR LAND OF THE LIVING (sort of) Soooo let's address the elephant in the room.  If you missed my announcement back in September, you're probably wondering the heck I've been.  Well, I've been on a  mental health hiatus.  Still am, in fact, and J don't know how long it will last.  I finished this though, so I decided to post it.  Updates will probably come sparingly like this for a while but air hope you enjoy nonetheless.  I won't be replying to comments since I'm only dropping in to post this, but thank you all so much for support through all this, I love you guys!

While Crosshair had been lost in his thoughts on Kamino, the Havoc Marauder was drifting through space, with five troopers and their little cadet inside. All six were gathered around the computer stations in the cabin, all looking rather exhausted. The last few days had been merciless on the entire crew, both physically and mentally.

Hunter and Tech had dark bags gathering under their eyes while Wrecker's posture gave off the impression that he was about to fall asleep standing up. Omega and Abby meanwhile were both slumped in their seats with their chins rested on the counter in front of them. It seemed that Echo was the only one who was functioning, but even his shoulders were sagged down and his sight glazed over as he furiously rubbed at his eyes, as if that would make the fogginess of his brain disappear.

The blue screens of the cabin's computer setups and flickering buttons beside them glowed, the only light sources in the room. Abby glanced down the hall to see out the viewport of the cockpit, where the stars gleamed, like someone had haphazardly sprinkled drops of whote paint across the galaxy, a bleak black canvas. The darkness surrounding the ship told her nothing of what time it could possibly be; but she didn't need a clock or sunlight to tell her that it was a ridiculously late hour.

While everyone secretly would have given anything to just call it a day then and there, the Bad Batch needed a plan. The Empire was likely only a step behind and the last thing they could handle at the moment was another fire fight. So that's why the Bad Batchers were left in the cabin, half-asleep. Tech chattered away about the different planets they could dock at. Some deserted, some home of smuggling outlaws, and a whole bunch others that Abby had failed to keep track of in her state of drowsiness. Tech's droning voice lulled her to sleep a couple times, only for her to be shaken awake by Hunter or Wrecker. What could she say? She was tired and his voice could be soothing at times.

"Idaflor: that's where we'll go," Hunter declared, pointing to the planet on the screen and effectively startling her out of her latest stupor.

"But Idaflor's not even inhabited," Wrecker puzzled with a frown.

"Which makes it the perfect place to hide out," Hunter reminded him.

"Hide?" Omega parroted skeptically. "But I've been stuck on Kamino my whole life. Can't we explore?"

Her previously tired eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she stared up at the Sergeant.

'How is he supposed to say no to her?' Abby thought in amusement, sharing a knowing glance with Tech, who was clearly thinking the very same thing.

"Not right now. We have to wait for things to settle down," Hunter shook his head firmly. Although, his expression was guilty, clearly unhappy that he was depriving her of the chance to see the galaxy like she wanted.

Omega's face fell in disappointment, but Hunter didn't change his mind. He was right of course. With the rise of the Empire, the galaxy had become an extremely restless place, making it all the more likely that they could be turned in.

"Well we won't be doing either," Tech piped up. "We don't have enough fuel and we are also entirely out of rations. Without the Republic to provide us with supplies, we'll have to acquire these necessities on our own."