Author's Note: I swear to you that this is not meant to be a rewrite of OWK with Crosshair and Omega. I only picked Daiyu because of the kind of planet it is. :)
Enjoy all of the bonding and fluff! :D
~ Amina Gila
Omega sits curled in the co-pilot's seat, staring out at the white and blue swirls of hyperspace. She hadn't thought that Crosshair would actually come – he said he wouldn't – but he didn't have a choice, and... she's worried about how he feels about that. At least they're away. Escaping was the hardest part. Now, they just need to find their way to Ord Mantell from wherever they're going next.
"You're injured," Crosshair states finally after several minutes of absolute silence.
When she turns towards him, he's looking at her, or rather, his helmet is turned in her direction. "Yes," she confirms, though he already knew that.
"You should put bacta on them," he tells her, standing, "Can't send you back injured."
Despite his brusque tone, Omega is starting to suspect that's his way of showing that he cares, but even if it's not, she can't say no to getting treated. She aches all over, and her injuries are throbbing much worse now that she no longer has to worry about getting caught, not to mention how exhausted she is. Standing, she limps after him to the main hold, sitting in a seat and watching as he pulls out a medpac.
"Do you need help?" Crosshair asks, and she blinks in surprise at the question. In truth, she hadn't even thought about it.
"Probably," she admits, lightly pressing a hand to her side. "I can get most of it though."
He pulls off his helmet, setting on a nearby chair and walking over to her, dropping to one knee. "Let me see it."
Wincing as she moves, Omega reveals the deep blue-purple bruise on her side. Crosshair's eyes are icy, but he doesn't say anything as he takes off his gloves, reaching for the bacta in the medpac. With far more gentleness than she thought him capable of, given his disposition, he rubs the bacta into her skin, over the injury. "Nothing is broken," he assures, not looking at her. "What happened?"
"I got hit by a stunrod the second time I tried to escape," she admits. Which was only a couple days before her last, successful, attempt.
"Hm."
She can't decide if he sounds impressed or disbelieving. Or neither. They don't talk as he helps her apply bacta and bandages to the rest of her injuries.
"Rest," he says when they're done. "I'll tell you when we arrive."
Omega tries to hide a yawn, feeling far sleepier now that she's not in as much pain. Or maybe it was the gentleness that Crosshair showed as he helped her. "Where are we going?"
"Daiyu," he answers. "It's a crime world. We can disappear there and find alternate transport. The Empire will be following us."
He picks up his helmet, tucking it under his arm as he leaves for the cockpit without another word and without looking back. Omega isn't hurt by it. If anything, she feels safe here, knowing that her brother is here, willing to protect her no matter what happens. He left the Empire to keep her safe. He risked himself to get her out, and she can't forget that. She shifts around in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep.
It's not easy, per se, not when her mind is filled with memories of the lab she was in, the myriad of tests and experiments that they did on her, no matter how blurry and distorted some of them now are.
But sleep, when it comes, comes quickly.
***
It'll be quite a few hours still before they arrive on Daiyu, even after however long it's already been. Crosshair had chosen the destination somewhat randomly, but he vaguely remembers something about it being a planet of crime, and being in the Outer Rim, he rather doubts that there will be an Imperial presence there. Even if there is, the type of world that it is should allow them to disappear.
Disappear.
It hardly seems real, that he has to do this, and he can't quite suppress the gnawing guilt of disloyalty. He's a traitor to the Empire, a traitor like (his brothers) Clone Force 99, who abandoned him. They left him behind.
He has no idea what he'll do after this, where he can even go. Certainly, he cannot go back to the Empire. He's a fugitive now; he'll have to live on the run like – like they are. He doesn't like that much. And he can't join them, either. That's entirely out of the question. They don't want him. They never came back for him, and the half-hearted offer on Kamino was, he expects, no more than something given out of a misplaced guilt. A way to make themselves feel better, to assure themselves that they tried, so they can wash their hands of him.
Thinking of them, always leaves him feeling bitter and angry, and he swallows back those feelings, clenching and unclenching his fingers as he pushes thoughts of those traitors from his mind. He can be on his own. He's been on his own since he was left behind. He'll survive this, too. Somehow.
It's hard though, when it feels as though it means everything that he has done for the Empire... has been for nothing. He followed orders. He was a good soldier. (He killed people, civilians, in cold blood, even if he was under the control of his chip the first time it happened. It happened more than once. It's happened... more than he wants to think about.) And now, none of that matters. It probably doesn't make a difference anyway. First of all, he needs to get the kid back to the others.
He sits in the cockpit, nearly motionless, staring at the swirls of hyperspace. He is used to it, sitting still for hours at a time, because of his training as a sniper. He is used to be alone, separate from everyone else. His skillset demands it. He is the sniper, the eyes in the sky, the one who watches over the others from afar. Being reclusive has been trained into him.
A faint whimper from the back of the shuttle draws his attention. The kid. He tilts his head towards it but doesn't otherwise move. The sound of movement follows, and momentarily, Omega appears in the doorway of the cockpit. She looks tired, but also as if she just woke up. Probably a nightmare, he realizes. He watches as she shuffles forward, dropping into the co-pilot's seat and curling there, drawing her knees up, and resting her arms atop them.
Crosshair, by nature, is not very talkative, and he has even less of an idea of what to do now, with a child who is struggling from whatever she has endured. If – if this was the past, and it was one of his brothers, he would sit with them silently – not that they ever tended to seek out him after having nightmares. Well, maybe when they were really, really young, much younger than Omega is now. Vaguely, in memories that he never lets himself dwell on anymore, he can recall Tech or Wrecker, or rarely, Hunter, coming to him in the middle of the night, and sometimes, even the rare occasion when he went to them.
But that was a long time ago, and he is not a young child anymore.
Omega seems to be content to sit there in silence, though, so it lingers.
"How much longer will it be?" she queries finally.
Crosshair glances at the dashboard. "Three hours."
It's another half hour before he notices the slight tremors running through her body, and he resists the urge to sigh. Probably, he shouldn't be surprised that she's remaining silent about her obvious discomfort – after her stressful situation, not to mention the injuries, it's no wonder that she's cold – but still, he would have thought that she knew better.
He rises silently, startling her into looking up, but he's already leaving the cockpit for the main hold. It's easy to find what he's looking for – the shuttle has emergency supplies, obviously, and it includes a blanket, so he gets that, and some water for her before returning. He tucks the blanket around her, handing her the water, and she looks up at him, surprised.
"Thank you," she says, almost shyly, taking the water and pulling the blanket closer.
"You should have said something," Crosshair tells her, staring out the viewport again, at the swirling colors of hyperspace, "If you were cold." And yes, he is very aware that he's being a little hypocritical. After all, he has always tended to ignore his injuries, if possible, since he dislikes being fussed over. Tech usually managed to figure it out anyways, and then –
He cuts off the thought abruptly. There's no use thinking about them.
From the corner of his eye, he sees the way the kid's cheeks flush a light pink as she twists the edge of the blanket in her fingers. "It was nothing," she insists.
Crosshair could argue that, but he only huffs instead. "Sure." He knows how disbelieving he sounds, but really, it's not his place to take care of her. He's only keeping her safe until he sends her back to – to them. They can deal with her, if she's as self-sacrificing as they are. He's not her parent.
(A tiny voice instead of him snidely points out that he is, in fact, doing a lot more than "just" keeping her safe, that he's taking care of her the way they probably do, but he shuts it up.)
***
Omega doesn't remember falling asleep again, but she must have, because the next thing she knows, the shuttle is descending onto the surface of a strange planet. She rubs her eyes, leaning forwards with avid curiosity, trying to take in as much of it as she can before they land. It looks like a city, a big city, one bustling with all sorts of life, and it reminds her a little of Ord Mantell. Which, she supposes, makes sense, since Crosshair did tell her that Daiyu is a crime world.
Crosshair's hands are steady on the controls, and he doesn't look at her, or comment about her moving around so much as he lands in the middle of a busy landing platform.
"Now what?" Omega asks, dropping the blanket on the seat and jumping to her feet.
"We'll find a transport."
He disembarks from the ship, and she follows, sticking close to him, because this is a strange place, and she remembers the rule: staying close. After what happened on Pantora when she wandered off, she's never repeated that mistake. Crosshair doesn't say anything, but she assumes that he knows where he's going as he directs them into the busy streets. It's evening on this part of the planet, the darkness creeping in, but that doesn't seem to be affecting the business; if anything, it's increasing it.
"I don't like this place," Omega whispers to him, shivering as she looks around. She's already counted no less than three people in the span of a few minutes who look like gangsters or bounty hunters or something.
"Stay close," he replies. "You'll be fine."
And she trusts him. She trusts him to protect her if someone tries anything, because he's already helped her thus far, far more than she had expected. It reminds her of their brothers, of how Hunter treated her at the beginning: protective but terribly uncertain of himself. Crosshair, like them, makes her feel safe.
They walk for a while, Omega looking all around, taking in the sights. There are so many people here, that it's easy to get lost in the crowd, which is both a good and bad thing. It means that they can disappear here and hopefully lose their Imperial pursuers who are undoubtedly following them.
Finally, Crosshair stops in front of a market stand and procures a hooded cloak for her, handing it to her with a simple, "You need to blend in."
The navy blue is a good disguise, Omega has to admit, pulling the hood up over her head, because it's dark in color, and it helps her blend into the shadows. Most people ignore them, or give them a wide berth, probably because Crosshair looks like a soldier. He radiates a dangerous energy that scares other people off... and makes her feel safe.
He pulls her into an alley, next to a building from which she can hear music and loud talking. A cantina of some sort, then. "Stay here. Don't move. I'll be right back."
"Okay," she agrees, pressing back into the shadows, against the rough wall behind her.
Crosshair pulls out a blaster, passing it to her. He doesn't need to say anything for her to understand. This is a dangerous planet, and it's not safe for her to be alone and unarmed. She nods at him, and he disappears back into the street.
Once he's gone, she feels terribly alone. And scared. She's so used to having her brothers with her, hovering over her, protecting her. Being away from them is terrifying, but Crosshair's presence has made that fear ebb away. But it's back now in full-force, and Omega swallows, tightening her grip on the blaster and hoping that she won't have to use it. Her brother will protect her, of course, but... he's not here right now.
It reminds her of when Bane captured her, when she had to escape him in the abandoned Kaminoan facility. She's never been as terrified as she was then, knowing that she had to rely on herself until her brothers could get there. Sometimes, she wonders what would have happened if they hadn't prepared her as well as they did, but she already knows the answer to that. She would be dead now.
She misses Hunter and Wrecker and Tech and Echo so badly. It feels like it's been years since she's seen them last, and she can't even imagine how worried they are for her. It – all of this – will have been worth it if she can bring Crosshair back to them. That's all she wants: her brothers back together again.
A sudden clattering noise at the end of the alley makes her breath catch in her lungs, and she peers into the darkness, heart hammering wildly. It's probably nothing, probably just a scavenging animal or something, not –
A man looms from the shadows, swaggering down the alley as if he owns the place. He's tall, much taller than her, and a large, jagged scar runs across his face. Omega hardly dares to even breathe, because she knows that he's dangerous, one of many criminals who live on this planet.
"What do we have here?" he drawls, his words slurring just the slightest. A cruel grin appears on his face as he approaches her. "You look lost, child."
She raises her chin defiantly, fingers tightening on the blaster as she tries to decide if she needs to use it, discreetly switching it to stun – she doesn't want to kill anyone. "My brother is here," she tells him. "You want to leave me alone."
The man laughs uproariously as if she told a joke, and he whistles sharply. Moments later, two more figures step into the other end of the alley. Omega sucks in a breath, realizing that they mean to kidnap her. Or worse. She whips out the blaster, firing a stunbolt into the first man. He drops down instantly, and she spins to face down the other two, only to realize that they're running towards her.
The second stunbolt misses, and she has only a second to brace herself before one of them slams her into the wall behind her, wresting the blaster from her hands. She yelps, tears of pain springing to her eyes, as the injury on her side is roughly jarred, kicking out at them, trying to get away. But they're too strong, and one of them twists her arms behind her back, keeping her caged, while the second goes to wake up the one who must be their leader.
She doesn't know what they want with her, and she has no intention of finding out.
"Let me go!" she shrieks, trying not to cry, twisting as much as she can, kicking backwards into the shins of the man holding her. And then, as if in answer to her silent pleas, a familiar shadow steps into the alley. "Crosshair!"
For a moment, everything freezes, and then, Crosshair unslings his rifle, aiming it. "Drop her," he snarls, and Omega has never heard him so furious before, not even on Kamino when he and Hunter kept arguing.
The two men not holding her still, and then, one of them lunges for the blaster that they wrestled from her. A blaster bolt slices through the air, hitting him in the chest. He drops, dead.
"Anyone else?" Crosshair's voice is low, dangerous, and if Omega didn't know him, she would be terrified by him.
Maybe they don't understand the warning note in his voice because they don't back down, even though one of their own was just killed. Idiots. Instead, the man holding her reaches for a weapon of his own, but as his grip loosens, Omega slams her body weight into him, throwing him off balance enough for her to pull away. She darts towards the end of the alley, hearing shuffling behind her.
"Duck," he orders, and she obeys immediately, rolling into a crouch, back to the wall. A blaster bolt flies over her head, right past where she just was, and Crosshair fires twice in rapid succession, dropping both of the men where they stand. He slings his rifle back over his shoulder, walking down the alley to retrieve his blaster.
"Are you alright?" he asks, stopping in front of her.
She stands, shakily, nodding. "They didn't hurt me," she promises.
"We need to move out. I hired a transport. The pilot is waiting on a platform not far from here." He reaches out, hesitating for a moment, before taking her hand. "Can't have you getting lost," he says, though Omega can't help but wonder if that's really it. She can't help but wonder if he was terrified for her, if he wants the reassurance that she's safe.
But she doesn't ask, because she knows he isn't ready for questions like that. Instead, she squeezes his hand, and lets him guide her towards their destination.
Final Notes: If you want to join our Discord to receive updates or just hang out, here's the invite link, and please delete the spaces! :) discord . gg / nqSxuz2
You can find us on tumblr at @fanfictasia (which is our more serious blog which does have controversial posts on it; I won't be offended if you choose to block it, promise), and @disastertriowriting (which is our fun blog with crack posts or incorrect SW quotes; we also advertise our SW gift exchanges on there)
And! We have a YT channel for tributes! Please delete the spaces in the link. :D youtube . com / channel / UC_g1M5rSCxJUzQCRS29B6pA
Finally, if you're interested, you can submit a SW gift fic request via the following form (delete the spaces): forms . gle / rmXWtRomMMaULuPa6