Jedi Fugitive (The Bad Batch)

30:

Crosshair paused only briefly, each of his next words punctuated with absolute certainty. "They'll still come for you."

The door shut behind him, leaving the two Elite Squad troopers at the door. Silent, as I had been since our capture.

Neither of us said anything when he left - anything we wanted to say was something we couldn't, not with the two troopers still in the room. So Hunter just leaned his head back against the wall, eyes shutting as though acting like the Elite Squad troopers weren't there.

I shifted on the floor, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder. The makeshift sling the medic had stuffed my arm into at Daro had been stripped away when the stuncuffs had gone on and without its support the dull ache had flared into a steady pulsing pain. But it answered what he was looking for well enough. I was fine, despite the anxiety thundering away at me. As long as they didn't figure out what I was, I was fine.

Even so, I didn't take my eyes off the troopers in front of us, unconsciously moving closer to him until our shoulders were almost brushing. Despite the grave situation, his presence was strangely comforting, much unlike the troopers clad in black. Their intimidating silence was not helping the tightness in my chest, the racing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me any second now.

I could meditate. The thought struck me like lightning, spine locking straight as soon as it occurred to me. I remembered meditation as a Jedi, Obi-Wan insistently telling me in my younger years to keep my breathing even and my focus centred. It had helped to calm me when I used to feel overwhelmed. Maybe it would help again.

I eyed the troopers again, weighing the odds. It was dangerous, but it was likely they wouldn't even know what I was doing. And with the Force still thrumming through my blood, I might as well. The most it could do right now is calm my anxiety, help ground me like it once had.

So I closed my eyes, exhaling a long slow breath, and let my mind drift from my body.

The changing of the ship's movement jolted me out of my trance, legs uncurling from their crossed position on the floor. We had arrived at whatever mystery location Crosshair had promised was in store for us. That much I knew.

Behind the doors, something beeped once again before they slid open. Crosshair stalked in with only a barked "Get up," to the both of us, the other two troopers finally moving from their rigid position at the door to move behind us, herding us out of the cell. His helmet had gone back on his head, the standard design of clone trooper helmets, save for the dark colour of it. A far cry from the modified, personalised designs of the Batch. Hunter's own helmet and his knife were gripped loosely in one hand.

I blanched when the landing ramp lowered, seeing the familiar docking bay, only for one of the other troopers to jam the butt of his gun into my back, forcing me forward with another shock of pain spreading across my shoulder. I didn't need to look outside to know that this facility was situated on top of a waterlogged planet, held upright only through spindly legs that defied the lashing seas at every second. Kamino. Of all places, he had brought us to Kamino.

An admiral, accompanied by a host of the new TK troopers and the other two Elite Squad members, stood before the shuttle we had arrived on, clearly waiting for Crosshair and the rest of his squad. The same admiral from Ryloth, I noticed. The one who had falsely condemned Cham Syndulla for the murder of Orn Free Taa.

He spared the two of us a cursory disdainful glance before addressing the sharpshooter clone. "Where are the rest of them?"

"They'll be here." The absolute certainty grated on me, but most likely because he was right. Even on the off chance they'd made the smart decision not to come, Omega would have found a way to convince them otherwise. "We'll intercept on arrival."