Chapter Text
PART I: LONG ROAD AHEAD
“If I wanted you dead,” the cool metal of Hunter’s own blade hummed against his throat, held in place by his youngest brother, “you would be.”
It wasn’t the black-armored soldier of the Empire who held Hunter’s pitiful life within the length of his blade, though. It was his little brother, dressed in Kaminoan-issued fatigues that had always been just a bit too baggy for his lean form.
But the golden flecks in Crosshair’s gaze glowed ominously all the same.
Despite the thin sketch of blood along his throat, Hunter solely ached somewhere deep within his chest, painful enough to draw a quiet gasp from his lips. He struggled to speak for more reasons than just the obvious. “Crosshair…”
His brother hissed and pressed down harder. “I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t.”
Hunter wanted to scream the truth, that there wasn’t a single day, a single second, when Crosshair wasn’t on his mind. That there was a gaping hole in his heart he didn’t want to live with anymore. That he missed him more than he had ever missed anything in his entire life.
He didn’t get a chance to, not before Crosshair continued. “Think of all we could do together.”
Flames licked behind Crosshair’s shadowy form, illuminating the dark corridor of the Kaminoan tomb they were trapped within. Thick smoke filled the air, making it even harder for Hunter to breathe, much less speak. Crosshair let that fire fuel him further.
“We were brothers once. We can be again.”
Hunter shook his head, minding the blade that was still kissing his skin. His voice wasn’t much more than a hoarse, pained whisper. “We never stopped being brothers.”
Crosshair’s gaze searched Hunter’s before the fire in his gaze matched that which burned behind him. He sneered and tightened his grasp on the knife’s hilt. “Stop pretending to be something you’re not, Hunter. You’re not a good leader. You’re not her father.” His lip curled in a vicious snarl. “And you’re not my brother.”
Hunter wasn’t even given time to experience the agony of Crosshair’s words. All he could do was watch as his own brother shifted the blade and snapped the hilt against Hunter’s temple in a single—
—knock.
Hunter gasped quietly as he woke, startling himself into an upright position. He closed his eyes and caught his breath, wincing as he lifted a hand to his healing head. Despite the injuries hidden within it, he pushed out with his senses to see if the sound that had roused him would repeat itself.
Knock, knock, knock.
Hunter let out a softer and steadier sigh and reopened his eyes. He didn’t have to fake the small smile that spread across his lips as he raised his voice enough to be heard. “Come on in, kid.”
The door to his quarters swished open. Omega clutched Lula in one arm and offered Hunter a sheepish wave with the other. He shook his head fondly and shifted on his bunk, gesturing with his head to invite her over.
Omega stepped forward, letting the door close behind her as she navigated the small compartment with a familiarity that superseded sight. She hopped up onto the bunk and took her designated place between the cool bulkhead and the warmth of Hunter’s healing body.
Omega waited until she was comfortably nestled into Hunter’s side to say anything. “Sorry for waking you up.” She winced. “Again.”
Hunter briefly recalled the dream he had been torn from and shook his head. “Don’t be.” His rough voice was as soft as he could make it, mirroring the gentle way he brushed her hair away from her face. “What did we talk about?”
Omega exhaled a guilty breath. “No sorries.”
“That’s right.” Hunter tugged at the blankets, distributing the majority of them to Omega’s side of the bunk. “Better you get one of us than keep yourself up all night. Right?”
Omega hummed tiredly against his neck. “Right.”
Hunter chuckled. “Alright. Back to sleep you go.” He secured his arm around her. “I’ll be right here.”
It didn’t take long for Omega’s breathing to even out. She had Lula clutched to her chest, though her body was curled completely into Hunter’s side. He closed his eyes and let out a soft breath, pressing his cheek into the muss of her blonde hair.
None of them were getting great sleep after Kamino. Hunter would often overhear his brothers stirring around the ship in the middle of the night, plagued by the horrors they had witnessed inside Tipoca City. It was one thing to watch the place they had once called home collapse under the weight of the Empire’s cruel siege. It was another thing entirely for them to nearly be destroyed with it, narrowly escaping with their lives.
Some nights, Hunter dreamt that they hadn’t made it. Many nights, Hunter dreamt that Omega had never made it back to the surface. Most nights, he dreamt of Crosshair.
Because even the bone-deep terror and trauma of being shot down and drowning inside Tipoca City couldn’t compare with the hurt and horror of his own brother’s betrayal.
Hunter had developed tough, weathered skin over the years, particularly as the commanding officer of a squad of “defective” clones, but it was hard not to let Crosshair’s words get through to him. It was especially difficult considering that Hunter had already been blaming himself long before Crosshair had.
They don’t leave their own behind, most of the time.
But his guilt was a tide that ebbed and flowed, making way for volatile anger whenever Hunter remembered that Crosshair had removed his inhibitor chip. Or, at least, he had claimed to. It had been impossible for Hunter to tell around the scarring on his head. A scar Hunter hadn’t been there to protect him from.
At a certain point, though, that had been his choice. While Hunter didn’t know the timeline, thanks to Crosshair’s refusal, that was the truth he had to come to terms with. The brother who had gotten himself in trouble too many times to count defending the rest of them over the years had ultimately chosen the institution, and the glory he thought would come with it, over the rest of them.
That wasn’t the brother Hunter had known. Or maybe it was, and Hunter had just never truly known the person he had once considered his closest confidant. Either way, the thought was enough to restart the never-ending vicious cycle of guilt and rage all over again.
Hunter was only pulled out of it by the sound of Omega stifling a sob in her sleep. He shushed her gently, easing her closer as he spoke in barely a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He closed his eyes as he uttered the reassurance they both needed to hear. “You’re safe.”
Omega let out a ragged breath, something between a soft cry and a whimper. She still wasn’t awake, not even as she murmured in a way Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hear if he didn’t have enhanced senses. “Hunter…”
“I’m here, kid.” He secured her head even further against him. “Right here.” Hunter eased out a breath, letting the tension leave him as her breathing evened out once again. “It’s alright.”
Hunter wouldn’t make a promise, because he had already started breaking enough of those. The promise not to leave any of his own behind. The promise not to let Omega go back to Kamino. The promise to be a good soldier. A good leader. A good brother.
He would, however, continue to do whatever it took to keep Omega, and the rest of his family, safe.
That was why, like most nights, Hunter stayed awake, only occasionally dozing off with the warmth of Omega’s form curled into his side. He listened for his brothers and assessed if he was hearing anything that required intervention. Thankfully, for Omega’s sake, it never came to that, but he wanted to be ready.
They still had a couple of days left to heal and get back on their feet, a more merciful move by their current employer, and Hunter intended on helping his family make the most of it, no matter the cost to himself.
Morning came with a mission. It wasn’t complicated; just a much-needed stroll through Ord Mantell’s most reliable merchant’s row for whatever they could scrape up with the credits they still had. They were running low, especially with the lack of work they had completed as of late, but they would make do as they had learned to.
Of course, this was a mission Hunter had assigned himself. No one else knew just yet what he was venturing out to do, though their suspicions arose when Hunter emerged from his quarters in a casual tunic and trousers rather than his usual combat-ready look.
Echo appraised him first, crossing his arm and his scomp over his chest as his brow shot up. “Going somewhere?”
Hunter grunted an affirmative. He stepped towards his locker, grabbing his blaster and concealing it the best he could. “Just picking up some supplies.” Hunter paused, raising his voice across midship and willing himself not to wince as it brought a pulse of pain to his healing head. “Get ready to go, Omega.”
A cheer of pure delight signaled both Omega’s acknowledgement and agreement. Hunter chuckled softly to himself, despite the three pairs of eyes that were now pinning him.
Tech slid his way into view. “That is not a sound idea.”
Hunter huffed and reached for his knife next. “And why is that?”
Tech blinked as he adjusted his goggles. “Because you are still healing from a concussion, amongst various other injuries.”
Hunter shrugged as he secured his blade’s sheath upon his back. “Never used to be a problem during the war.”
“During the war, we had authorized access to a wide variety of Republic medical facilities spread throughout the galaxy to accelerate the healing process in a safe, sterile environment. That is no longer the case.”
Hunter gestured to the medical droid AZI-3, who was currently charging his reserve power. “We have the droid.”
Tech let out a sigh that didn’t bother to hide his exasperation. “That is hardly a worthy comparison.”
Omega chipped in just in time. “AZI’s been working on Kamino for as long as I can remember. He’s had a lot of medical training.”
Tech’s frown harshened, his irritation rising in a way that was uncharacteristic for him. Hunter’s eyes narrowed at him in his own amount of quiet suspicion.
Echo spoke up before either Hunter or Tech could. “That’s great, but Tech’s still right. Having a single medical droid isn’t the same as having an entire facility of trained medics and Republic-grade equipment.”
Hunter’s own patience dwindled as he turned to face his brothers with a hardly-disguised scowl. “It’s nice to hear the obvious, but what does this have to do with our supply run?”
Wrecker, ever the peacekeeper, finally spoke up from the bench he was lounging on. “I think what Tech and Echo are tryin’ to say is that you need rest, Hunter.”
Hunter sighed, taking pity on Wrecker’s well-founded intentions to resolve the tension, and shook his head. “We don’t have a choice.” He strode over to their collection of credits and dispensed a hearty amount into the pouch on his belt. “It won’t be long before we ship out again, and we still have to make a plan for keeping ourselves off the Empire’s radar.”
Echo wasn’t afraid to say the unshakable truth. “The Empire thinks we’re dead, Hunter. That should be enough.”
“Only if Crosshair decides not to betray us again.”
At the mention of their brother’s name, Tech quickly exited, disappearing inside the cockpit. Hunter watched him go with a furrowed brow, as did the others. He quietly cleared his throat and turned back to the rest of his family.
“But if he hasn’t, then we need to keep it that way.” Hunter nodded, reaching back into his locker to grab his commlink. “We’ll discuss it more once Omega and I get back. Reach out if something urgent comes up.”
Hunter looked down at Omega, who had already glued herself to his side. He found himself wearing a small smile as he dropped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“Ready to go, kid?”
Omega nodded dutifully and snapped out a salute. “Ready when you are, Sergeant.”
Hunter’s fond smile widened as he returned her nod. He ignored the heat of his brother’s gazes watching him as they made their way into the cockpit. Hunter briefly caught Tech tinkering with the comms console before he guided Omega out the open hatch and down the lowered gangplank.
Wrecker called out after them. “Be careful! And bring back somethin’ good to eat!”
Hunter waved a hand in acknowledgement without looking back. He and Omega continued their stride forward, leaving the hangar behind.
The streets of Ord Mantell had become familiar, but that didn’t make Hunter any less cautious. He kept Omega close to his side as he observed every passerby for a potential threat. Omega, however, wasn’t as concerned, and she proved as much by breaking their silence with casual conversation.
“They had a point, you know.”
Hunter hummed. “About what?”
“Resting. You’re not very good at that.”
Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at her bluntness. It reminded him far too much of Tech—and someone else he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Never have been.”
Omega blinked innocently at him. “Is that why you look so tired all the time?”
Hunter chuckled. She was lucky he was used to hearing things like this. “That’s part of it.”
Omega didn’t respond right away. Hunter gave her time, sparing a glance in her direction and watching as her brow furrowed in contemplation. Her gaze was earnest when she looked up at him again. “Is there a reason why you don’t like resting?”
“It’s…” Hunter hesitated, his gaze searching. He ultimately blew out a breath. “We weren’t engineered to rest, kid. We were made to fight.” He narrowed his eyes at a pedestrian whose stare had lingered on them too long for Hunter’s liking. He won their silent showdown. “It goes against my instincts to slow down.”
Omega hadn’t noticed. “But the others don’t struggle with it as much as you do.”
“Yeah, well, it’s different for them.”
“Because they’re not the leader?”
Hunter’s jaw circled. If there was a better way of putting it, then Hunter couldn’t find it. Years of responsibility had made him this way, and losing the one support system they had at their backs hadn’t made it any better.
“Well, you do a good job helping me rest.” Omega reached for his hand and took it. “Maybe I can help you, too.”
Hunter looked at her again, letting the warmth from her hand spread up towards his chest until it nearly consumed him. There was already something about Omega that made him want to slow down in a way that wasn’t so daunting. It gave him pause, making him consider what a life away from war and missions would really look like. Not for his benefit, but for her own.
They fell into comfortable silence as Hunter wove their way through the crowd. The density of this part of Ord Mantell made him even more grateful that Omega had decided to take him by the hand. It allowed him to keep her close as he focused on getting them to their destination both quickly and safely.
That was more of a feat now than usual, thanks to Hunter’s aforementioned concussion. Head injuries had always been known to strain his senses, and he had to bite back more than one growl of pain each time he pushed too hard on them. He must have let one slip past at a certain point, if Omega suddenly squeezing his hand was any indication.
She, however, was more fearless than Hunter. Whereas he was navigating them away from the various risks and dangers surrounding them, Omega wasn’t afraid to walk right through them, something she demonstrated when she broke their silence with a new topic.
“Do you really think Crosshair would tell the Empire we survived?”
Hunter stiffened. He tried, and failed, not to make that obvious, especially as he accidentally tightened his grasp on Omega’s hand. Hunter forced out a breath and set his jaw. “I try not to think about it.”
Hunter could feel the weight of Omega’s stare pinning him. She didn’t respond right away, but when she did, the weight of her words landed even harder. “There’s still good in him, you know. He saved me and AZI.”
Hunter shot her a look. “He repaid a debt. You saved his life first, and he didn’t want to owe us anything.”
Omega let out a sigh. The sound was sadder than it was anything else. She took her time responding once again, though her gaze never strayed from him. “I understand why you’re angry with him, Hunter, but…” She wrapped her free hand around his arm. “He’s still our brother.”
Not according to him. Hunter had to bite his cheek to keep himself from saying the words. He wasn’t sure if Omega had overheard Crosshair’s monologue in the training room on Kamino, but if she hadn’t, he wanted to keep it that way. She didn’t need Crosshair’s biting words to haunt her the same way they did Hunter.
Instead, Hunter composed himself with a breath and moved on, refocusing on the mission at hand. “Want to know why I brought you with me?”
Omega took the redirection in stride. Her eyes blew wide with excitement as she let out a quiet gasp. “You mean, there’s a reason?”
Hunter huffed fondly. “Of course there’s a reason.” He glanced down at her with a small smile. “It’s time for you to pick out a new look.”
Omega grinned, but the thrill of the moment didn’t last. Her expression faltered, making way for something bittersweet as she glanced down at herself. She lowered her hand from Hunter’s arm and picked at a loose thread on her shirt.
Hunter softened as the realization dawned on him. He gave the hand she was still holding a squeeze. “We can keep this one on the ship. Alright?” He gave her sleeve a gentle tug. “But you’re growing out of this, and…”
He kept her in anticipation. It worked like a spell, making Omega glance back up at him with eager eyes. “And what?”
Hunter waited a beat and shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could portray. “And you need something better for training.”
Omega’s gasp was much louder this time. “Training? Really?”
Hunter nodded. “It’s about time we got you fully caught up.” He looked ahead, catching sight of the merchant’s row at long last. He gestured forward with his chin and smiled down at her. “What do you think?”
Omega was beaming at Hunter’s side, humming with lively energy as she nodded. “I’m ready!”
Hunter let out a soft laugh. “I know you are.” He eased her towards the first clothing stall he could find. “C’mon.”
They officially abandoned any of the lingering tension from their earlier conversation in favor of working together to piece Omega’s new wardrobe together. It wasn’t something Hunter had thought much about before, for himself or anyone else. He had spent his entire life wearing Republic-issued clothing, whether it was his fatigues on Kamino or the armor he lived within. Anything else had seemed like a luxury.
But it was something to consider. Each time Hunter thought about the possibility of being listed as killed in action, Rex’s words from months before echoed in his mind: Being dead in the eyes of the Empire has its advantages.
Staying away from Imperial-occupied worlds wasn’t enough. If Hunter truly wanted to convince the Empire that they had died with Tipoca City, then they had to go as incognito as they could, and their armor was a dead giveaway. But they couldn’t sacrifice it entirely.
Letting go wouldn’t be easy, but if Omega could do it, then so could Hunter—and the rest of them.
Hunter kept this idea on the forefront of his mind even as he focused on assisting Omega and collecting the rest of their necessary supplies. He had a crate full of goods carefully balanced on his shoulder, against the better judgment of his own bruised ribs, when Omega dared to turn towards her favorite stall. She glanced back at Hunter with a hopeful look he could never deny.
“Wrecker told us to bring back something good to eat.” Omega pointed at the stall. “He’d like this a whole lot more than the rations we got.”
Hunter sighed, though there was no hiding the fond smile on his lips as he shook his head. “Fine.” He dug into the pouch on his belt and withdrew the necessary credits. “But only one carton.”
Omega squealed with delight, accepting the credits and darting towards the stall. She made the trade and held onto the carton of Mantell Mix even more preciously than she held her new bounty of clothing. The smile she wore made it seem as if the terrors of Kamino were far behind them.
Hunter would do anything to keep her this happy. Anything. But peace was a luxury he hadn’t earned for her, or any of them, yet.
“Alright, kid.” Hunter ruffled Omega’s hair with his free hand. “Let’s head back.”
Omega nodded, staying quiet for the trip back to the Marauder as she busied herself with snacking on the Mantell Mix. She left more than enough for Wrecker to enjoy, though Hunter was yet again more focused on their path back than he was Omega’s makeshift meal.
Tech was working on something outside the Marauder when they arrived back in the hangar. Omega darted towards the open hatch, hopping up the gangplank to present Wrecker with his long-awaited snack. Hunter hung back for a moment, pausing by Tech as he adjusted his grasp on the crate.
Tech didn’t look away from his work even as he addressed his brother. “You should not be carrying that with your injuries.”
Hunter grunted. “It’s not like Omega could carry all this.”
“Then perhaps you should have listened to me before and not gone.”
Hunter frowned. “Well, someone had to.” This time, he shifted the weight of the crate out of indignance. “It’s not that heavy, anyway.”
Tech finally spared him a look. It was unimpressed at best. “The way you are adjusting your stance suggests otherwise.”
Hunter didn’t have a good response for that. His jaw flexed as Tech went back to his tinkering, just missing the way Hunter gestured towards the hatch with his head. “Come inside for a bit. We have something to discuss as a team.”
Tech exchanged his wrench for a spanner. “Is it urgent?”
Hunter was taken aback by his question. “Does it matter?”
“I would prefer to resume my work here if the matter at hand is not urgent.”
Hunter’s chest tightened with an even share of concern and frustration. “Yes, Tech. It’s urgent.” His firm tone betrayed his feelings. “It won’t take long.”
Tech paused his work and let out a heavy breath. He adjusted his goggles and glanced over at Hunter. “Fine. I will join you shortly.”
That wasn’t good enough. “Two minutes. Tops.”
Tech’s eyes narrowed, but Hunter wasn’t intimidated by the gesture. He just continued up the gangplank, temporarily pushing back the worry for his brother in favor of focusing on the task at hand.
He hadn’t even made it halfway up when Wrecker rushed over to take the crate of supplies from Hunter. His brother’s brow was furrowed in concern as he did so. “Why are ya’ carryin’ all that right now, Hunter?”
Hunter was about to defend himself when Echo cut him off with a scoff. “Because he’s trying to get himself more hurt.”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It barely weighs anything.”
Wrecker set down the crate and caved to his own curiosity. He knelt down and grabbed the lid. “What’s in ‘ere, anyway?”
Wrecker slid the lid off and looked inside. Echo also stepped closer, though his curiosity was more apprehensive than anything else. Hunter crossed his arms as he watched them, observing the confusion on Wrecker’s expression as he withdrew the first canister of a paint color none of them had donned before.
“Paint?” Wrecker gave Hunter a bewildered look just as Tech joined them inside the ship. Echo and Tech followed Wrecker’s gaze as they stared at Hunter. “What’s this for?”
Hunter’s brow rose. “What do you think it’s for?”
His brothers all glanced at one another before Wrecker spoke for them again. “Well, we usually only get paint like this for armor.”
Hunter nodded. “Exactly.” Hunter continued in the shocked silence that followed. “Staying off the Empire’s radar means more than just avoiding them. We can’t be wandering around the galaxy in armor they could identify in seconds.”
Omega chimed in from behind Echo. “You’re gonna get a new look, just like me!”
Hunter tried, and failed, to bite back his grin at her enthusiasm. “Omega and I picked out the colors. Use whatever works for you, but… we have to do this.” He grimaced. “That means removing the skulls, too.”
Echo huffed. “Oh, yeah?” He circled a finger around his own face. “You gonna get that removed, then?”
Hunter snorted. “You wish.” He gestured to his tattoo. “This won’t matter when I’m wearing my helmet. We’ll just have to be more careful.”
Wrecker, all the while, was removing each canister of paint from the crate. He was beaming in newfound excitement as he observed the color palette. “This is excitin’! We haven’t switched up our armor since the beginnin’!”
“Speak for yourself.” Echo knelt down, joining Wrecker as he observed the colors up close. “It feels like just yesterday I put my Ninety-Nine kit together.”
Omega slid to both their sides. “I can help you, Echo!”
Echo smiled at her. “Thanks, kid.”
Hunter looked at Tech last. He was staring at the scene ahead of him with a gaze Hunter couldn’t quite read, which scared him more than anything else. When Tech caught his eye, he simply shrugged.
“Your logic is sound.” His gaze flickered to the comms console at Hunter’s back before he turned towards the open hatch. “Though I fail to see how this was urgent.”
He descended before Hunter could get another word out. Hunter watched him go, his brow furrowed as a nauseating amount of concern started to eat away at him. As both their leader and their older brother, Hunter had always prided himself on recognizing his brothers’ behaviors. It was why Crosshair’s sudden animosity towards him had been so alarming.
Now, it was Tech. There was a conversation to be had, something that had been triggered by the events on Kamino, but Hunter needed to give him more time. It was a long road ahead, and they had to take it step by step.
And as Hunter’s attention returned to his three remaining family members on board, he had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be as difficult as he feared, even if it wouldn’t be easy either.