Ten thousand views??? Two hundred eighty seven votes??? Since, uh, WHEN??? You guys are so amazing!!
Well, here's more hearing impaired, I guess. WOW. I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me for so long. Especially with all my vanishing acts. You're all awesome.
Now presenting...
✨ This ✨
Things couldn't be harder for your group.
Just as you were set to leave Bracca, now in possession of thousands of credits worth of supplies that you could use to rid yourself of the tremendous debt you owed Cid, an alarm went off onboard. A trio of attack shuttles had arrived, and they were after you.
Who could be leading the charge, you ask?
Who else but Crosshair?
Of course.
Because things just had to go from bad to worse.
After meeting up with your siblings in arms, you quickly and silently discussed what to do about your present situation. Crosshair knew all of your plans, all your moves. You couldn't fight your way out, even Wrecker knew that much. You had to escape before Crosshair had time to discover your whereabouts.
He had to know that he was being jammed by now, and he had to know that Tech was responsible. You couldn't split up, otherwise he would you after the group's brainiacs first. He knew how you, Tech and Echo moved. He would find you. As much as you hated sneaking around in such a big group, you had no choice if you were to escape unscathed.
And so, the hunt began.
Tech quickly tapped in to the Imperials' comm system to track their movements. A clever idea for any other scenario. Unfortunately, Crosshair knew this old trick. Once upon a time, he would have helped Tech slice into more complex systems. Had he suspected something was amiss from the start, it could wind up badly for your merry band.
You had a theory that Crosshair knew he was being listened in on - he had to at least suspect it by now - and signed your concerns to the others. Tech and Echo agreed, but Hunter insisted that you stick to the plan and avoid Crosshair's voice. He swore up and down that Crosshair's troops weren't clever or well-trained enough to pick up on subtle direction from their Commander. You felt otherwise, and a single look from Echo told you that you weren't alone, but you kept quiet about it. Hunter had reached the end of his nerves, and you didn't want to risk causing your leader to have a breakdown while running for your lives.
If only you had taken that risk.
Upon being rerouted by an order from Crosshair to his incompetent Elite Squad, you found yourselves on the artillery deck, but you weren't alone. Crosshair's forces had surrounded you, and you stood staring down the barrel of a blaster as Hunter and Crosshair exchanged a bitter greeting.
After a moment, Omega spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation between her brothers. Unfortunately, Crosshair, who was beyond reason, still held a bitter resentment for her. You were unsurprised when Crosshair gave an order that caused Hunter to push in front of this sister. The loose circle that your brothers had formed suddenly tightened, each member drawing their weapons and pointing them in a different direction. You found yourself at Hunter's side, blaster aimed at the troops next to Crosshair. They must have been members of the infamous Elite Squad.
One member - the one standing closest to Crosshair, who must have been his second-in-command, looking at the slight differences in their armor - stepped forward. They sent an inscrutable look Crosshair's way as they protested, claiming that their orders were to bring your group in. As Crosshair's bitter retort flashed before your eyes, you felt the last of your heart shatter. He really was gone.
Suddenly, a strange rumble tore at the ground below your feet. Though the blast was silent to you, you could feel it coming before the others, and immediately leapt into action. Behind you, a cannon had fired. Presumably Tech and Echo's handiwork. That was your opening.
As the deck collapsed all around you, you shoved Hunter and Omega aside. The two tumbled down the stairwell, the latter same in the former's arms, and they landed safely at the bottom. You dashed after them, sending what was coming, but you weren't fast enough.
Crosshair flung himself into you, knocking you aside before you could reach Hunter. He hadn't noticed, too wrapped up in dragging Omega to safety. The two of you tumbled to the ground, throwing punches at gaps in the other's armor, you attempting to fight to your brothers, and him trying to fight for you.
The piece of debris that had nearly crushed Hunter and Omega finally fell, streaking towards you and Crosshair. Without second thought, you kicked Crosshair in the stomach - hard enough to throw him out of the steel grate's path - and scrambled away.
You weren't fast enough.
The grate and steel plates let out a series of powerful vibrations as they clattered together in midair, and it was the last thing you experienced before-
Everything went dark.
Though you were used to your silent world, a lack of other senses was alarming to you. You relied so heavily on them, and felt vulnerable without them.
Lucky you, you couldn't feel a thing. Not vulnerability, not anxiety, and certainly not pain.
How would one describe nothingness? A lack of all? How could that be? Things were never gone, merely transported. 'Nothing' didn't exist. And yet, there was no other way to describe the overwhelming feeling that made your head hit the ground as darkness overtook you.
Nothing...
Outside, your brothers were feeling something rather similar as they clustered together to do a head count. Adrenaline roared in their veins, muscles tense and ready to break into a sprint at any moment-
But all that flipped upside down and inside out when Wrecker spoke up.
"Where's Y/n?"
Their breaks slammed on their racing hearts, and Echo nearly collapsed from turning towards the artillery deck so quickly. Tech felt like he might throw up, and Hunter... well, Hunter felt nothing at all. Not even panic. Nothing, quickly followed by a shocked sort of rage that startled even him.
"How did none of you see where they went?!" Hunter roared, rounding on his brothers. They simultaneously took a small step back, momentarily startled before they responded with their own fury.
"Us?" Echo retorted sharply, narrowing his eyes at the Sergeant. "You were the closest to them!"
"I had to help Omega!" Hunter protested, directing to the frightened child beside him before rousing in another of his brothers. "Wrecker! You're always with them! Why weren't you paying attention?!"
Wrecker shoved his brother's shoulder. Not hard enough to send him flying, but his feet very nearly left the ground. He was panicking, and losing his restraint as a result. "I was a little busy catching a falling cannon so that you lot wouldn't get crushed! This is on you!"
"Pointing fingers isn't helping!" Tech snapped, forcing himself between the stronger soldiers. His intervention shut them up immediately. He hated getting involved in arguments between his brothers, but with a life on the line, he had to go against his nature. "Y/n needs us. We have to find them."
And they did.
Just not where they had expected.
...
Your eyelids slowly fluttered open, only to immediately squeeze shut again when you were met with a bright light. Your entire body was sore, your limbs felt heavy and your movements were slow, and yet...
You were alive.
How?
As you slowly adjusted to the bright light of the world beyond your eyelids, your brain began to catch up. You and the others had been digging through old equipment on Bracca inside a downed Cruiser, Crosshair arrived, you faced off against him, and then...
Nothing.
What happened to you? Where were the others? Where were you?
Slowly, slowly, you inched your way upright. Pain shot through you with every slight motion, but you gritted your teeth and continued upwards. Now that your eyes had finally adjusted to the room's light, you were certain of exactly three things:
One, this wasn't the Marauder.
Two, you were back in the Kaminoan medical bay.
Three, Crosshair's blurry form was staring at you from the door.
As you stared back, blinking slowly, it clicked in your mind. You had saved Hunter and Omega from falling debris, then Crosshair, but hadn't escaped it yourself. No wonder everything hurt. In your unconscious state, Crosshair must have found you. But... where were the others?
You raised your hands in an attempt to sign your questions to the grumpy toothpick before you, but your motions were slow, and your fingers refused to respond. Your gaze slowly drifted down to your hands, barely registering the thick bandages that swaddled one and the IV sticking out of the other, and stubbornly tried to form words again.
Another set of hands lay on yours, though you couldn't feel any sort of pressure from them. Thy just felt cold, like a rush of wind had broken through the wall of the medical bay. The hands slowly lowered yours to your sides, then grabbed your shoulders and eased you back into a horizontal position.
"Easy," Crosshair signed slowly, allowing your mind time to catch up to his motions. "You're hurt. Stay down."
Again, you attempted to ask questions, but your arms didn't carry the strength to raise your hands. They remained firmly at your sides despite your attempts, and suddenly, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The simple process of sitting up had wasted far too much energy, and you had none left.
You were barely aware of Crosshair leaving your side to refill the fluids that were being drawn in to your bloodstream by the IV, but when he returned to your side, your fingers instinctively laced with his. You hadn't intended to do that, or had you? Your groggy mind couldn't be sure. Either way, Crosshair was the only form of stability that you had found as of yet, and you didn't want to let go. Nor did he, it seemed.
"Get some rest," Crosshair signed using his free hand. You recognized the slow motions as the very same ones you had taught Echo.
Echo... where was he? You couldn't see him anywhere nearby. He was likely with Tech, who would be with Wrecker, who was probably playing with Omega, who would most certainly be watched over by Hunter. None of them were here. Were they safe? Had they escaped, or did they get hurt in the collapse? Could they have...?
"Y/n," Crosshair signed, squeezing your hand. Your unfocused gaze drifted back to his face, and his lips twisted. Though your vision was blurry, it appeared that the silver-haired clone had... smiled? He didn't do that much. Not anymore. What was there to smile about in this new, chaotic world?
"Sleep," he ordered, drawing your blanket up closer to your chin. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
Your brain could see no faults with the plan. With Crosshair's assurance, your eyelids fell, and your grogginess immediately overtook you. You felt Crosshair squeeze your hand again, the numbness in it fading ever so slightly, but your senses escaped you before his fingers slid from yours. Before the vibrations of his fading footsteps reached you. Before the door slid shut behind him, leaving you alone again.
As sleep claimed you, your mind wandered. Why had Crosshair visited you? Why had he been so gentle, when he was so hell bent on killing the others before? How long had you been unconscious? Where were the others? Were they safe? Were they looking for you?
The last thought that crossed your mind was the one that confused you the most: what happened on Bracca after you fell unconscious?
...
Crosshair sat up with a hacking cough, knocking on his helmet in an attempt to clear the dust clogging the air filters. He felt a weight on his legs, and glanced down to see a ceiling panel pinning him to the dusty ground. He twisted and pried himself out from under the plate, letting it clatter to the ground behind him as he shakily stood. The Commander wiped dust from the eye slit of his helmet and looked around the partially-collapsed artillery deck. What a mess. He briefly wondered whose idea it was to fire the cannon - Tech's or Echo's - but didn't focus on that for long. He had to find his siblings.
The Imperial Commander lowered his heat sensing visor and immediately noticed someone trapped on the other side of a fallen post. He couldn't easily get around, so he rolled his shoulders and set to climbing. The debris pile was higher than he had thought, but he made his way up and over with little difficulty, landing safely on the other side. The heat signature was right beside him.
So he dug.
The closer he got to whoever lay beneath the pile, the more frantic his movements became. A strange feeling was driving him, and despite his own aching body and cramping fingers, he continued to drag hunks of debris aside.
The sight he was met with drew a strangled sound of grief from the Commander's throat.
A familiar soldier, their armor crushed and snapped, lay in a puddle of their own blood. The tough, modified commando armor had saved their limbs and most of their bones from much harm, but there was too much blood, too many bruises, and too many pieces of metal stuck in the gaps of their armor. The sight of such grievous injuries was nauseating. Still, he steeled himself and kept digging, clearing every piece of debris from around your limp body.
When you were finally free, he hesitated, then reached to grab your hand. Perhaps he hoped that you would know he was there, or maybe he just wanted to assure himself that you were. Either way, you were in danger, and he couldn't just leave you to die.
"I'm not going to hurt you, vod'ika," he whispered, though he knew you couldn't hear him. Without your eyes open, he couldn't communicate with you, but he could reassure himself. He didn't want to hurt you- no, he wouldn't hurt you. The very same strange voice that had been advising him ever since General Billaba's death ordered him to reconsider, but he was having none of it. He hadn't been able to ignore it before, but it seemed this time - this one time. The time it mattered most - he could manage. It was a strange sensation, listening to something that only he could hear. Doing whatever it told him to without a word of protest. Was that the inhibitor chip Hunter had spoken of?
He shook his head to clear the thought. No. There was no time for that. He could have an existential crisis later. For now, he had a job to do. Not a job as a Commander, but a job as your brother.
Despite the nagging voice in his head telling him to shoot you, he pulled you free from the rubble and into his arms, savoring your warmth as he hugged you close. Warmth. You weren't dead. Not yet. He couldn't let you go, the voice wouldn't allow that, but he could help you all the same. You were alive, and he could keep you that way.
"Commander!" a familiar voice called from nearby. Crosshairs turned his head and scowled when he spotted ES-03 and ES-04 approaching. The former walked with a slight limp, and was supported by the group's heavy weapons expert. That was new. He obviously hadn't escaped the collapse unscathed. The prospect of an injury was something that Crosshair found oddly amusing. It wasn't his fault that the Elite Squad was annoying.
"Clone Force Ninety Nine appears to be fleeing, sir," ES-03 informed Crosshair as the pair drew closer. "They're headed towards the engine. How should we proceed?"
"If we hurry, we can catch them outside," ES-04 added.
"No need for that," Crosshair drawled, shifting his weight and hefting you into his arms as he stood. "We have everything we need already."
The pair exchanged a glance, then looked back at their commanding officer. "Sir?"
"They'll be back for this one soon enough," Crosshair informed the two, brushing past them towards an opening in the side of the deck. "They don't leave their own behind. We have the upper hand, and the means to lay a trap."
Crosshair's Uber arrived, pulling up next to him and extending its gangplank. The end of the plank landed at his feet, and he swiftly carried you aboard, head held high.
"Set a course for Kamino," he ordered the pilot as he lay you down on the ship's gurney. He turned back to the Elite Squad, who were about to board. "Stay here. Dig out any survivors."
The two stepped back. Had Crosshair's senses not been so sharp, he may have missed their annoyed sighs.
"Yes, Commander."
The door slid shut, and Crosshair's focus was back on you. He pulled the gurney to the back of the ship, where a pair of medics would treat you, and remained standing in the doorway. He tugged off his helmet and gazed down at your bloodied face in concern, remaining that way for the rest of the voyage to your flooded homeworld. He had spent months searching for your group, wanting to take you home at his side... but not like this.
...
"Kamino. Y/n's on Kamino."