ghost in the marauder

the weight in his pelvis shifted heavier but Hunter had to press forward. it was inevitable, the labor pains were consistent but he hid them from his squad. there was a mission to do and if there was any deviations to their perfect streak, it would only fuel the fire for Nala Se to keep him away from his squad. it was already a bless she let him return after falling pregnant- to whom was a different story.

a story that was about to be relieved soon if the pressure was anything to go by.

half of him wanted to cry out and retreat, back to the safety of the Marauder and his partners but to do so would risk disrupting the mission. a disruption that would be found out by Nala Se, a discovery that his baby had been born and she would take it. something Hunter didn't want.

so he pressed himself further, harder. it was easy tracking down the stray droids in the forest, their electromatic signature singing to him like bird song. it was secluded, quiet, and he couldn't disturb that even with his panting breaths under his helmet. somewhere in the distance were the regs, and they would instantly report him if they knew of what was really happening.

the pressure dropped again, and he leaned against a tree briefly. this little one really wanted to come now but they had to wait. wait until the mission was over. wait until there was no threat of command staff to report it. Tech had a plan to keep their child hidden, to report a still birth back to Nala Se and hide their newborn away, safe from the experiments that were already being lined up.

like how they were lined up with his birth cannel and stretching him open. not even Wrecker was this big, maybe the little one barreling down on Hunter was his.

another droid shot through the trees, and then another. slowly Hunter slinked through the thick underbrush picking out his targets as the minutes ticked by. this was a waiting game, ensure no droid made it back from patrol to report the clones in the forest and alert the base of the impending strike. all he had to do was wait for that strike to come, to wipe the droids and he would be free to labor in peace.

unfortunately his child had none of Crosshair's patience, sinking lower and lower until it firmly rested against his black undersuit. the cloth was already a wet mess, his water broken shortly after parting ways on his own. the pressure was immense, but his codplate held firm.