#crosshair reader insert

it began like most of your missions with the bad batch do. the boys head out to their various positions and you wait by the controls, ready to provide evac at a moment’s notice. the objective for today? get in, get the information, and blow up the base on your way out, wrecker’s favorite kind of mission.

tech, as per usual, provides updates on their progress as they go. some are pertinent, like whether certain parts of the plan have been completed or had to be altered on the spot. others… others were just bizarre.

“the separatists truly did make sure that their droids were enjoyable to destroy.”

“what do you—“

“mean, tech?” crosshair interrupted you from his comms. you chose to ignore it and let tech answer.

“today marks the third time i’ve been called ‘four eyes’ by a b-1 droid! once can be dismissed as a simple anomaly, thrice is an alarming trend.”

nothing could have kept you from laughing at the observation despite the blaster fire you could hear in the background of their comms. “maybe the clankers—“

“—have a point.”

everyone’s chortling and light laughter almost covered tech’s indignant scoff at the jab. hunter was even amused, which was difficult to achieve when in the middle of an op.

your pride left you moments later when tech started spitting rapid fire about an incoming and highly unprecedented avalanche that was picked up by the base’s satellites. “kark it all, we don’t have a contingency plan for an avalanche!”

you have no idea where to start; do you get cross before you descend to get the others out from the path? do you get the others out of the way and pick crosshair up on the way out of the system? this was nothing you’ve ever come across, not with the boys, not with the 104th— 

since when did the 104th stop being “the boys” and when did they start being the four-man band you’ve been working with the past few months? you’re not quite sure, but the title change feels oddly right for some reason.

once the marauder is in the air, you relay your position and assurances that you’re going to get them out of there. crosshair is the closest to your current location, and seeing as common sense dictates that the avalanche would impact him first, you’re zooming to where he’s trying to evade the falling debris.

“cross!” you shout into your commlink. you were hovering the marauder mere feet from the cliff side with the ramp open. “jump!”

“i can’t leave!” he replies, “there are still several—“

“—units headed for the others!”

of course this is the not-metaphorical hill that he wants to not-die on. “dammit cross, the rocks—“

“—are coming right for you!” crosshair completes your sentence before starting his own. “they still need my eyes up—“

“—here, i can’t leave them blind, they need me to—!”

“—protect them!”

if you weren’t piloting the ship right then you’d have jumped out of the ship and tore him a new one. this was not the time to keep interrupting you! the proximity sensors were going haywire with alerts about the avalanche being right on your heels, freshly kicked up dust and debris coating the air around you like a scratchy blanket.

your one last plea to get crosshair on board was interrupted by hunter rattling off coordinates with more alarm on his voice than you were comfortable hearing. “senaar! we need immediate evac! shit’s goin’ sideways down here and it’s not in our favor!”

crosshair heard hunter’s dire situation and it steeled his resolve to stay on the hill. fuck. “they need you! go!”

“you better be here—“

“—when i get back! i promise you!”

you gave one last look at crosshair before flying away from the cliffside towards the others.

it was only moments later that you greeted the others as they hauled ass into the marauder. the only visible injuries were wrecker’s limp and a slight graze of a blaster on hunter’s side, nothing tech couldn’t treat on board.

once hunter and wrecker were taken care of, tech’s eyes probed the ship and noticed the absence of his lankiest brother. “where’s crosshair?” tech questioned you once you shut the ramp and flew towards the sniper’s last location.

this got the attention of hunter and wrecker, who seemed to just realize that they were short a man. if you didn’t know better, the glare on hunter’s face could have been aimed at you, but he was just shot.

you sighed and shook your head as you steered the ship. “stubborn asshole told me to get you guys first, he wouldn’t budge. if i waited any longer for him you three probably would have died down there. but i still have his last coordinates and i’m headed there now.”

this seemed to appease the others, for now.

of the three, wrecker was the most anxious of the three when it came to crosshair’s well-being. the others weren’t present for most of the times cross would almost get his ass handed to him by the regs, and sometimes didn’t even see the aftermath until the bruises were nearly completely faded. wrecker was the only one cross let take care of him and right now, he felt useless.

tech did his best to not let his anxiety show. hours before the day went to hell in a handbasket, his long hours of research about the shared affliction came up with one solution: soulmates. it was a rare phenomenon hundreds of years ago, and the passage of time only made documentations of it fewer and even further between.

he had yet to figure out how cross would have been able to have a soulmate, seeing as their dna was almost identical to millions of brothers. despite how ruminating on the breakthrough was meant to be a mental diversion, tech grimly acknowledged there would be no chance of figuring out the complexities of the connection you and crosshair shared if they didn’t find him.

with a steadying breath, he emptied his mind of the probabilities of surviving an avalanche. if he stayed focused on the soulmate research, his mind wouldn’t betray him and give in to the tumultuous emotions beating against his chest with a battering ram. it was his only choice, really. there was too much left to be done for him to lose it now.

hunter, however, immediately started yelling into his vambrace. “crosshair! what are your coordinates?!” nothing. “crosshair!!” silence.

you were scoping the newly changed terrain for a safe spot to land. the guilt was gnawing at you with no mercy; if you had pushed a little harder, maybe crosshair would have gotten into the ship when you had found him and he wouldn’t be missing.

maybe he would have gotten onto the ship if he trusted your judgement more, which infuriated you to no end. the stupid little feud that began your relationship could have very well cost him his life, and that’s not a feeling you wanted to learn to live with.

“karking hells, cross!” hunter slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. “senaar, we gotta land!”

“already ahead of you. sarge.” the marauder was already lowering to the ground before he even gave you the order.

the ramp wasn’t even open before the others started towards it, clearly anxious about their brother’s safety. you were itching to get off the ship and help them search for cross, but your sense told you to stay put. if something were to go even more off kilter, a speedy evacuation would be needed.

“you better be okay, cross,” you grumble to yourself as you begin the grueling task of waiting for word from the boys.

two hours pass with no word from anyone. those two hours should not have passed with this jarring radio silence and you’re chomping at the bit. you’ve never had to worry about going on the hunt for your boys, they never gave you the occasion to. but today, with a deep sigh and the holstering of your blaster, you lowered the ramp of the marauder once again and prepared to track their beacons.

to keep your mind from becoming mush as you walk, you start to hum to yourself. nothing too elaborate, just a simple song you heard when you were a kid that stuck with you. the boys have heard you sing it when doing chores around the ship or when coasting through hyperspace and lately, you’ve caught them humming it too. it was nice to feel like your presence was notable to them.

“on the first part of the journey, i was looking at all the life. there were plants and birds and rocks and things, there was sand and hills and rings.”

you sang as you walked but kept your eyes peeled for crosshair, the boys that went to look for him, or any other danger that could be lurking.

“the first thing i met was a fly with a buzz and a sky with no clouds.” you nudge a stone from your path with your toe as you sing. “the heat was hot and the air was dry, but the air was full of sound.”

something in the air felt different now, almost foreboding, and it did a stellar job at unsettling your already frayed nerves. maybe if you keep singing you can chase away what feels like womprats nesting in your gut. your feet and your song carried you along the newly changed terrain with thinly veiled worry.

large boulders and slabs decimated what little remained of the droids, small cliffs and mounds of rubble doing the work for you.

“i’ve been in the desert on a horse with no name. it felt good to get out of the rain. in the desert, you can’t remember your name ‘cause there—“

a familiar lump in your throat cut you off before you could finish, but what normally followed was nowhere to be found and its absence almost made you retch. the absence opens the gates for a herd of blurrgs, who are beginning to take up residence in your stomach alongside the womprats and your growing anxiety.

you had no idea what could cause you to be so sick to your stomach when moments ago, you were almost perfectly fine. there was nothing toxic in the air or issues with anything you ate earlier; you were stumped. it only took your jumbled brain a moment more for you to realize what was missing, which surprised you because it was the reason you left the ship in the first place.

what normally followed that lump in your throat was crosshair.

the womprats in your stomach were now waging war on the newly arrived blurrgs and you’re nearly brought to the ground by the intensity. the feeling never got this bad, except during the moments you tried simply not interrupting crosshair at all. the interrupting, the uncanny guessing, there was nothing uncanny at all about it.

is it a curse, or maybe a weird brain meld, that cause you both to interrupt each other constantly? you’d have to rope tech into researching what is causing this now that you’ve discovered that it was a compulsory tick.

just as quick as it took over you, the ache started trickling away until you were left gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

“senaar! senaar!” footsteps pound against the ground from behind you and it’s almost immediate relief when you recognize wrecker’s voice. looking up, you spot three of your boys running your way, crosshair still nowhere to be seen.

wrecker was the first one to you and was immediately checking you over, despite not knowing what to look for. “senaar, you had us worried! are you okay?!” he hoisted you in the air as he checked you over for blaster wounds or some other injury, holding you akin to lula.

when he’s satisfied enough to put you down, you nod and rest a hand on his bicep in reassurance. “yeah i’m okay, got any news on cross?” another familiar knot in your stomach kinked up a little bit but disappeared almost immediately after. weird, but you weren’t going to question it.

“his vambrace has been sending intermittent signals, almost as if it’s on the fritz but still trying to work. we’ve tracked it to this general location but beyond that, nothing.” tech interrupts, eyes flitting around you. he still seems unconvinced that you were completely okay, but lets it go for now. 

an intermittent signal is better than none, but still not ideal. hunter’s quick to send everyone in different directions to grid search the general vicinity, his already enhanced senses in hyper focus.

tech lingers around you once everyone has their assigned directions. “are you sure you’re okay? your vitals are a bit askew and are taking longer to rebalance themselves than normal.”

“i’m fine tech, don’t—“ the blurrgs are suddenly mounting a great defense against the womprats as you double over in pain, eyes clenched shut tighter than the stick up dogma’s ass before three shots of spotchka. your arms wrapped around your stomach in a vain effort to hold your insides tight enough to keep them from damn near tearing you apart.

a gentle hand rests on your back but you barely register it. the pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced — no blaster shot or concussion or broken limb could ever compare. the pain has you losing your focus on your surroundings and your body starts to sway, what little balance you had left talking its leave.

your hands shoot out to brace yourself on the solid ground before you can completely collapse. they clench around the dirt under you in attempt to get ahold of yourself—

that’s not dirt.

that’s not dirt.

your right hand is clenched tight around something solid and warm. the texture is far too familiar, and nothing like the soil on the planet you’ve stepped foot on for the first time that day. you try to tell the boys that something’s wrong, that you found something but the words just couldn’t leave you — unlike the morning’s breakfast that took a quick departure from your stomach.

that display definitely got their attention.

while you retched, your grip remained tight on the not-dirt. it was a life preserver and you were drowning in the kaminoan seas. the hand on your back that was rubbing calming circles (now identified as hunter’s when he starts trying to soothe you) slowly came to a stop as something caught the sergeant’s eye.

“senaar, is that…” he doesn’t even finish his sentence because it is exactly what he thinks it is: crosshair’s hand. “fuck- kriff- sithspit!” it takes hunter the briefest moment to actually gather his wits about him before he’s shouting orders to move the small mountain of rubble out of the way. his hand smooths your hair back gently before rushing to help his brothers.

despite it taking just over a minute to free their brother from the debris, it feels like time has been warped and manipulated to trick you into thinking decades have passed. it probably has something to do with the overwhelming nausea that hit you every time you tried to talk, or maybe it was the way you watched wrecker lift a limp crosshair into his arms, the sniper’s hand slipping from yours unceremoniously as it dangled.

“Why are you crying?” A thin, raspy voice asked.  It only made the tears fall faster as you shielded your eyes from the waking dream beside you that sat up and gently leaned over you in comfort.

You’d been plagued by false hope too many times before.  You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes in the dark.

You curled up on the soft bedroll as you focused on the sounds of the room.

The ocean waves softly whooshing in the distance outside your open window.  Nocturnal insects were chirring to their heart’s content as they did every night.  A warm breeze tickled your skin and ruffled the curtains draped on either side of the window. 

If not for the continued presence that you felt beside you, you’d think you were beginning to wake from the bittersweet vision.  But he remained.

“I had another dream,” You answered finally.  “It’s…I wanted it to be real.”

There was a pause before the familiar voice continued.  “What was it about?”

“Omega came back safe and sound, and so did you.  You finally returned to us-” The sentence was cut off by a sorrowful sob.  You curled up, trying your very best to stifle it.  A hand curled over your shoulder, drawing you closer to the figure.

“Shh,” he hushed next to your ear.  “It was real.  I’m here.”

You relaxed against his clothed chest and allowed yourself the comfort.  As much as these dreams played your heartstrings like a seven-string hallikset, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. So, you clung to the fleeting moment and waited for it to fade into the night like they did every time.

Except it didn’t.  Precious seconds turned into minutes.  The minutes pushed on until you realized that he wasn’t going to fade.  Not this time. 

You dared yourself to look up.  Just one glimpse…

The first thing you saw was moonlight pouring into the room, covering everything in a lovely haze of silver.

And there he was, propping himself up beside you on one elbow while the other arm draped over your form.  His chin was lifted as his gaze was directed to the scene outside the window.  Your eyes followed the line of his jaw, pausing at his cheekbones, and wandered down the slope of his nose to his lips- admiring the shadows that the moon of Pabu cast on his face.

All at once, the memories came rushing back.

You remembered so vividly the moment Omega jumped into your arms after being lost to the Empire for several months.  You recalled the way your heart jumped for joy at her return and the fact that she was safe and sound.

You remembered the way you froze up completely at the sight of him.  Omega’s sheepish tone and Hunter’s suspicious gaze were lost to you as you stared Crosshair down from across the way.  No words came to you for some time.  It seemed to be the same with him.  The two of you spent the entire journey across space in that ship speechless toward each other, only communicating with odd stares.

You weren’t sure how you felt at first.  Of course, you were shocked by his return.  Confused.  And there was still anger toward him for betraying the squad, for betraying his family, for betraying you.

Somewhere along the line, it was just the anger that remained. The odd stares turned into cold ones on your end.  He didn’t return them.  He’d only met your gaze with a sort of prickly silence.

Then there was last evening when the tension finally snapped.  You’d ditched the silent treatment and instead opted for a shouting match; except, it was only you shouting, and him replying through clenched teeth.

Finally, when you’d spent your energy, you exhaled.

He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable.  He wasn’t asking for anything, period.  Crosshair had been a big part of helping Omega escape, and the kid had spent plenty of time trying to vouch for him to you and the rest of the squad.

The man before you had been severely humbled.  He’d changed, and it was written all over his face.  When you finally began to accept it, that’s when the tears came. There wasn’t just anger: there was hurt.  There was longing.

Crosshair pulled you into an embrace, and you cried into his shoulder.

You recalled your quiet, pathetic plea for him to stay.  You recalled the way he held you tighter, and how before you knew it, you both had curled up on your bedroll together, drifting off to sleep. 

And now, in the late hours of the night, you realized that it was indeed real.  It was truly Crosshair beside you, warm and safe.  His eyes were no longer gazing out at the moon, but instead locked on yours.  His mouth formed a frown as he saw the tears that had begun to well up in yours again.

“I thought it was another dream,” you cried.

 His hand reached up to stroke your cheek as he hushed you again gently.  “You don’t want to wake anyone.”

You gave a nod and buried your face into his shoulder.

“Hunter wouldn’t be so pleased to find me in your room,” he continued, petting your hair.

His comment nearly gave you a chill.  The thought of Hunter finding the two of you there, giving Crosshair that glare of utter distrust and fury and you the weighty gaze of disappointment was not something you wanted to experience.

“He still doesn’t trust me.”

“It’ll take time,” you murmured, voice muffled in his shirt.

“I know.  This wouldn’t exactly be a step in the right direction.  It’s bad enough that the kid can’t seem to stay away from me.”

“Omega sees something in you.”  You sighed sleepily, as a wave of exhaustion hit you.  “And so do I.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and the sounds of the night came to the forefront of your mind again as you began to drift back to sleep.  Crosshair’s breathing and his heartbeat were your lullaby.

Somewhere between the waking world, and your dreams, you thought you heard him utter,

“I don’t deserve it...”

- - - -

The next morning, you awoke to brilliant sunlight in your eyes.  In the heat of morning, you’d kicked your blanket off.  Reaching over to pull it back, you realized that the presence beside you was no longer there.

For just a split second, your heart plummeted.  The question of whether it was all just a dream arose once more, and you found yourself standing there on your feet and staring at the bedroll.

“No, it was definitely real,” you said aloud.  Relief flooded you as you fully woke up and went over last night’s conversation in your head.

As if timed to perfection, you heard the zoom of blaster fire.  It was a single shot, which was that of a sniper rifle.  You headed over to the window, trying to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight.  You squinted to see a familiar figure clad in gray and red down by the beach, taking aim at a target.

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched him fire again.

   A warm breeze blew in through the window, ruffling the long, sheer curtains.  You breathed out a sigh at the sound of a wind chime softly tinkling.  Shifting around on the mattress to get more comfortable, you let your tired mind wander.

   Pabu had turned out to be quite the place to relax and kick back.  You hadn’t seen your teammates look so happy in a long time, if ever.  It brought out a different side in each and every one of you.  There were so many smiles, sighs, and much laughter.

   The decision to stay and help rebuild lower Pabu wasn’t a hard one.  The people had been so kind and hospitable to you all, and after the sea surge, the Batch felt it was the right thing to do.

   Sleep finally claimed you.  With the sound of the ocean pushing and pulling against the shore, and insects chirping outside, your eyes fell shut.

   Cold.

   It was bitter cold.

   Teeth chattered.  Hands trembled.  Your body ached, and you could scarcely move.  Squinting through the harsh white landscape, there was nothing to be found.  No structures.  No people.  It was just ice and snow.

   Then you saw his face.  His eyes.  

   It was an expression that you’d never seen on him before.  His gaze was narrowed in the ferocious snowfall, in determination, but they widened every now and then with something akin to fear as he glanced down at his companion who had become a mere limp body that he ushered on.  His chest rose and fell deeply as if each breath absolutely pained him.

   You called his name.  Screamed it.  But your voice couldn’t be heard over the wailing winds.

   Drawing in a sharp breath, you jolted from the nightmare with a start.  Relief washed over you when the only sounds that could be heard were that little wind chime outside and the sea in the distance.  The air was mellow and soothing on your skin.

   Even so, a hollow feeling settled in your chest.  The dream was still too near.

   You rested your head back down on the pillow, feeling salty tears slip down your cheek.  No one was around to hear your cries, so for once you indulged in the release.  Your clutched the pillow closer 

   “Why are you crying?” a familiar, raspy, yet soothing voice sounded just behind you.

   “I had a bad dream,” you sobbed.  “I saw you.  You were cold, and it was dark, and…”

   An arm slipped around your waist.  He drew you closer so that your back was against his chest, and your eyes fell shut as his warmth enveloped you.  A shaky sigh filled the room as you pressed even closer.

   “It was just that,” he uttered quietly, his slender fingers brushing your arm, “a dream.”

   Your lashes fluttered as drowsiness crept its way back in.  “I’m glad you’re here.  I’ve been worried about you.”

  He didn’t respond to that.  Silence fell between the two of you, and you took the opportunity to simply focus on the deep, slow breaths he took that were no longer pained like they had been in your dream.

   “Go back to sleep,” he murmured.  But you were already halfway there.

  You awoke to golden sunlight pouring in, casting bright shapes along the floor leading up to your bedroll.  There was no desire to stay curled up under the covers for long as the temperature had already begun its late-morning climb.

   “Cross?  What time is it?”  You reached over to feel nothing but the crumpled sheet.  That’s when the memories started pouring in.  

   Oh.  Right.  Crosshair was still gone…

   Your heart sank, yet you found yourself almost chuckling.  It’s funny how a couple of dreams could erase all of that for a short time.  It’s funny just how far hope can go.  Rising from the bedroll, you stretched and folded the linens for later use.

   When you arrived on the balcony for breakfast, it appeared that the rest of your squad and their hosts were nearly done with the meal.

   “Hey!  Look who decided to join us!” Wrecker laughed.  “Mornin’, sleepyhead!”

   “That’s rather amusing coming from you,” Tech retorted, adjusting his goggles.  Omega held up her hands to hide a giggle.  It was true, Wrecker was almost always the last one up.

   “Rough night?” Hunter asked sympathetically as you took the empty seat beside him.  You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair quickly.

  “Just some weird dreams,” you replied, waving off his concern casually.  You turned your attention to the beautiful spread of fruits and pastries that adorned the table.  “Wow, this looks great.”

   “It tastes great!” Wrecker muttered through a mouthful of food.  “You’ve got to try some of those apples.”

   You brushed off the last of your uneasiness about the dreams and smiled, glad to start another lovely day on Pabu with your squad.

His emotions, when he does express them, are usually raw and unpolished.  His first kiss with you would most likely be a way for him to let on how he feels.

It would vary depending on the situation.  When it comes to emotional vulnerability, he most likely wouldn’t take the chance on a kiss unless he knew it was welcome and would be received well.

If the two of you were in the middle of a mission, it would be brief, but he’d make the most of the short time with a heated dance of your lips.  One arm would wrap around you, pulling you close.  You are so dazed that you nearly forget where you are.  Then, just like that, it would be over.  He’d steal one last meaningful look into your eyes before putting his helmet back on and running off to where he’s ordered to be.

If it was quiet on the ship, and he had all the time in the world, he would rest a hand against the wall, caging you in (as long as he is getting the impression that you are okay with it).  He’d lean in, eyes locked in silent communication, before slowly pressing his lips to yours.  It would be a long, drawn-out kiss, tilting his head down to explore your lips.

He’s not big on words and verbal communication, which may or may not create some confusion for a little while.  You’re absolutely thrilled at what happened, but unsure of where the two of you stand at first.  You think you do, but you might want to talk to him about it.

“What does this mean, exactly?”

“________, what are you doing?” Hunter questioned.  He stood with arms spread out, blaster pointed down, but grasped firmly in his hand, ready to use if necessary.  You could still see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes.

“My job,” you replied.

The two of you circled each other in an agonizingly slow dance around the clearing of the forest.  “I don’t understand why you’re with them.  Something’s not right with this Empire, and you know it.”

Of course you knew it.

The events that transpired had been nothing short of horrific.  You’d watched the love of your life take aim and try to shoot down a kid.  Whether the kid was a traitor or not, the Crosshair you knew wouldn’t have done such a thing - not unless something was seriously wrong.  Not to mention he was all too eager to complete the awful mission that Tarkin had assigned the squad, to eliminate “insurgents,” which turned out to be civilians who would not submit to the Empire.

Upon returning to Kamino, they’d taken the sniper away from the rest of you.  It took a great effort on the troopers’ part to keep you in the cell while he was escorted out.

It wasn’t long afterwards that the squad managed to escape.

During the confrontation on the landing platform, you stayed behind while the others escaped with their gear aboard the Marauder.

Crosshair had given the order to have you placed in a new cell until further notice.

Something definitely changed in him since they took him away.  There was a new resolve in his demeanor, but not a resolve against the orders of the Empire.

Even so, he visited you.  It made you hopeful every time you saw his face on the other side of the cell’s barriers, like perhaps he’d come to his senses.  But each time, your hopes crashed to the ground after a few minutes of gazing at each other in tense silence before he’d place a toothpick between his teeth and leave.

Something was definitely wrong.

One day, a pair of troops approached, lowering the shield so that you could exit the cell.  They escorted you down a few hallways until you arrived at a door.  It slid open to reveal a typical Kaminoan meeting room- plain white with a few chairs in front. 

A man you didn’t recognize walked in wearing Imperial military garb.  He dismissed the other troops before approaching you with hands folded behind his back, speaking courteously.

“Ah, so you’re ________.  It is a pleasure.”

You lifted a brow.  “Have we been introduced?”

“Indeed not.  This is our first meeting.  I am Admiral Rampart.  You’re probably wondering why you’ve been brought here.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response to his statement.  You only shook your head, changing the subject.  “Where’s Crosshair?”

“See, that is precisely why you’re here.”

“What?”

“I witnessed your interaction with him, though briefly.  The two of you seem to have a bond.”

“That’ll happen when you’ve been on as many missions as we have.  Our entire squad has a bond.”

“But yours with CT-Nine-Nine-Zero-Four is different.”

You clamped your mouth shut, not wanting to give him any more reason to believe his theory.  He was entirely on the mark, but who knew what he would do with this information?

Rampart chuckled, idly walking to the other side of the room to glance out the viewport at the stormy seas outside.  “There’s no need to be alarmed.  The Republic discouraged such relationships, but you may come to find that the Empire is a little more lenient.”

You snapped your gaze toward him in surprise.  He turned his head to give you a sideways glance.  His tone remained light, breezy, as he continued.

“You are an experienced soldier, having previously assisted Clone Force Ninety-Nine on many missions, like you said.”  Rampart unclasped his hands.  “Very impressive military record.  It makes you a prime candidate for my new program as a conscripted soldier.”

“And why would I ever do that?” 

“Because you could face criminal charges as an insurgent.  You are a traitor against the Empire, after all.  Or you could put your skills to use.  You could take advantage of this opportunity and remain at CT-Nine-Nine-Zero-Four’s side.”

“Crosshair,” you interjected.

He paused, repeating the name like it was a foreign language, trying to hide the disdain in his tone.  “Yes, Crosshair’s, side.”

You tore your gaze from Rampart’s, experiencing a weight like that of the entire galaxy on your chest.  What this man was offering was not at all what you’d been expecting.

“You’ve seen how we deal with traitors, _________,” he urged.  “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.  You can make a difference.  You will be able to serve the galaxy.  You and CT- Crosshair won’t be separated again.”

When you did not immediately reply, he nodded.  “I can see you need some time to think.  I will summon you again tomorrow.  Give me your answer then.”

That night, you saw nothing but Crosshair’s face in your dreams.

The rest was history.

So there you were, following orders to assist in tracking down the Bad Batch as an Imperial soldier.  You wished it wasn’t so.  You wished Crosshair wouldn’t be so adamant about finding his old squad, and you wished he didn’t order you to accompany him on these chases.

You and Hunter continued to circle each other, blasters in hand.  His initial bewilderment gave way to confusion and disappointment at seeing you poised to capture them.

“What happened?” he asked. “I know they have Crosshair under their control with that chip, but they can’t have brainwashed you.”

“I didn’t leave with you guys,” you answered with a shrug.  “I was worried about Crosshair.  After being imprisoned again on Kamino, my options were pretty limited.  It was either go on trial for crimes against the Empire, or this.”

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed, and he removed his helmet to reveal hope in his eyes.  He lowered his blaster.  “Now is your chance, ________.  Come with us.”

“I…I can’t.”  You shook your head.  “The reason I took this deal…”

Hunter’s gaze softened as realization dawned on him.  “It was to stay with him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.  I can’t leave now, not with all of the shady things going on.”

A million and one questions roamed around Hunter’s mind at your words, but time was short.  “So this is it.  This is how it has to be.”

“I’m afraid so.”  You grasped your blaster tighter, stealing a glance over your shoulder.  Thinking quickly, you fired a few shots into the dirt just in front of him.  You had to make it appear that you weren’t on his side, but it seemed Hunter saw through your attempt.  

Hunter put his helmet back on and gave you one last nod before disappearing into the brush.

You exhaled, preparing an explanation that your superior would undoubtedly demand.

Crosshair’s armored form emerged from the forest to your right, carrying his rifle.  “Where’d they go?”

“They escaped.”  You could almost feel Crosshair’s skeptical eyes boring into you through his visor as he walked over to stand directly in front of you.

“Is that so?”

Crosshair’s helmet tilted down as he observed the blaster marks in the dirt.

“I see.  How… unfortunate.”

He had to know.  He had the sharpest eyes and never missed a thing.  It’s not like the direction of your blaster marks made sense.  Not to mention you’d simply given up on the chase.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for Crosshair to point these things out, but the comments never came.  He merely reached up with his fingers to tilt your chin so that you would face his visor.  The silent exchange was brief, but made your heart race for a different reason.  He turned and started back toward the ship, and you knew that was your cue to follow.

His behavior was most intriguing.  You were certain that he would’ve said something.  You’d never hindered him in a chase before, but that was only because he’d never come this close to capturing the squad.  Now that he finally had his opportunity, you’d foiled it- and obviously so- yet he didn’t mention it.

Unless he wanted them to escape.

Could it be?  If that was the case, then why was he the one always petitioning his superiors for permission to go after the squad if he was going to let them get away?

Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.  Each day seemed to bring about new mysteries.  You missed the Batch.  Funny enough, even though Rampart had kept true to his end of the deal that you wouldn’t be parted from Crosshair, you found yourself missing Crosshair.  He was there, but it often didn’t feel like he was there.

You watched the quiet exchange with hands clasped together and teeth biting your lips, waiting, hoping…

Dawn had risen over the ocean planet, the pale light washing the sky in pastels.  You should feel nothing but relief after the squad returned safely to the ship.

The squad escaped Kamino.  Everyone was safe.  You only caught a glimpse of him through the viewport and nearly tripped over your feet racing off the Marauder.  With you being a jedi on the run, Echo had thought it best that you remain on the ship while he led the others to rescue Hunter.  You had watched in horror from the platform as laser blasts streaked through the dark, stormy night and impacted the structures of Tipoca city, setting them ablaze, while your squad was still in there.  There was no way of knowing whether they found Hunter or if any of them made it.

The decision to go after them was easy enough, but by the time you geared up and stepped out into the deluge, the tube that ran underwater to Nala Se’s laboratory was destroyed.  Debris littered the sea around you and sank into the murky depths.  It was too dangerous to fly the ship over because the Empire might have detected you on their scanners.  You could only wait.  Wait and wonder if Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Omega were okay.  Wonder if Crosshair was alright after all.

What was most important was that everyone was okay.  You nearly burst into tears when they climbed up onto the platform at the first light.  They were fine.  They were shaken up from the ordeal, sad that the closest thing they had to a home was obliterated, disappointed that Crosshair was still refusing to come along, but fine.

Even so, you couldn’t help but hope.

With eyes locked on Crosshair’s lean form, you hoped.

Omega returned to the group, shaking her head.  Your heart dropped.

Why was he doing this?  Something wasn’t right…  It had to be that chip.  Had to be.  Hunter had quietly told you what Crosshair said, that his chip was removed a long time ago.  Had it really?  Then why did he clasp a hand over the side of his head before?  When you first saw him?

You watched in disbelief as the squad started up the ramp into the Marauder.

“No…We can’t just leave him.”

“There’s not much more we can do,” Hunter murmured, resting a hand on your shoulder as he passed.  He looked over his shoulder at the sniper before his eyes flickered back to you.  A worn sigh emerged from his lips before he nodded, silently granting you a little extra time.

You nodded in return, determined.

Five minutes.  No more.

So you jogged over to where Crosshair stood on the platform with his back facing the squad.  He gazed out at the colorful sky with features screwed tight in pained skepticism.  His hand twitched, as if he was resisting the urge to touch the wound on his head again.

“Cross?” you said.

He stole a glance in your direction, but didn’t budge.

“I know that you’ve been through a lot.  Believe me, we have too.  But our best bet is to stay together.  We all need each other now more than ever.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he replied, teeth clenched.

“No, it isn’t.”  You reached for his hand, gently wrapping your fingers around it and pulling it to your chest.  “Please, Crosshair.”  Your voice lowered to a longing whisper.  “I’ve missed you so much.”

When he didn’t reply, you released him entirely.  Bitter tears spilled down your cheeks as you looked over at Hunter, who stood with arms crossed.  

Three minutes left.

Perhaps it’s in vain. 

The pain of that thought pierced through your heart like a viroblade, stinging your veins.  Shoulders slumping, you met Hunter’s eyes in defeat.  His expression softened at your visible hurt, and he waited for you to join him up on the ramp.  He knew better than anyone what this meant to you- what Crosshair’s absence had put you through.

Each painstaking step took you farther from Crosshair, and it was as if your feet were made of durasteel.

Suddenly, you couldn’t go any farther.  You halted mid-step.  Another teardrop plummeted from your face , mingling with the rainwater on the platform at your feet.

You turned back around, ignoring Hunter’s quizzical expression, and marched right back until you were standing in front of your sniper.  He gazed down at you, frowning in his usual serious way, though he didn’t quite reign in the surprise in his eyes at your reappearance.

Without so much as a word, you threw your arms around him.

His muscles bunched and tensed at the contact.  It was apparent even beneath his armor.

As if you had landed a blow.

You only held onto him tighter, burying your face in his shoulder.  For several seconds you remained like that, clinging to the man you loved.  Searching.  Grasping for that part of him that you missed so terribly.  Although, it was starting to feel like a shout into the void. Except it wasn’t.

To your surprise and relief, you felt pressure on your form as he wound his arms around you and squeezed back.  He was returning the embrace tenfold, making you feel as though you might melt into putty if it weren’t for his arms holding you so securely.  A whimper of relief choked out from your lungs.  The tears kept falling for an entirely different reason.

His head rested on top of yours, earnestly seeking more of your touch.

Another cry escaped your lips.  Crosshair shifted to hold you even tighter.

“I’ve missed you, darling mine,” he told you.  His admission sent a quake through your bones.  He was starting to sound like his old self again.  You felt one of his hands leave your back to clasp over the side of his head again as he winced.

Feeling compassion for his pain, you pulled away to observe his expression.  “Let’s get out of here.”

He blinked his eyes open, still clutching his head, and nodded.

With your hand still grasping his, you led him toward the ship.  Hunter gave you a look of approval despite the part of him that was cautious.  He stepped aside so that you could bring Crosshair aboard.

Inside, Tech had a datapad out in front of him while he checked over the Marauder’s controls to ensure everything was fully functional.  He caught sight of the two of you, and his eyes widened in contained surprise.

“Oh.  You’re coming with us after all.”

He sounded pleased, which was what you’d hoped.

“Crosshair?” Wrecker exclaimed.  You heard his heavy footsteps as he stomped his way up to see for himself.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Echo commented.

Omega was grinning ear-to-ear.  “It’s great!  Welcome aboard!”