Alright I Am Now Gonna Start Calling You Stray Kitty, Thank You @thegirlwholovedblackholes

If they told us the truth they’d be fired duh 

Seems like Crosshair just like to touch his forehead for fun :')

I need explanation DAVE

Why Crosshair's voice sexy?

Why, Filoni? Why?

!Bad batch Spoiler!

I actually created this account for my drawings. In the meantime I only post stupid tbb memes. Find the mistake. xD

Ok, ok, hear me out.

Hunter is the sexiest clone

Howzer is the hottest clone

Tech is the cutest clone

And Rex is the handsomest clone

Get it?

Wow I really kinda feel bad for him…

Ouch….

So, I was rearranging my room and I tripped and broke my bed someone send help… please. My everything hurts as well, that did not feel good.

Naw this is too good!!!

We Were Golden Part 3

Summary: You get less than ideal news about your future with the Batch and of course they do something about it.

Pairing: Crosshair/F Medic!Reader , (Eventual???) Hunter/Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, anger, wounds

WC: 5.1K

A/N: I'm actually really excited to take you guys on this journey, because I promise you... If you think you know where this story is heading, no you don't. Or maybe you do. Idk lol. Either way, I'm excited.

Part 2

TAGLIST FORM

“How is he?” Hunter asks as he leans against the wall in the corridor. 

You smile softly at Hunter’s concern for Echo. “He’s fine. He’ll wake up soon.”

You lean against the wall, next to him, watching as Wrecker teases Tech and Crosshair about something. Hunter’s eyes are on you when you turn back to face him.

“What?” Your eyebrows raise.

“Nothing. You’re just really good at your job.” He smiles.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You chuckle. 

“Not with them around.” He nods in the other guys’ direction.

“So true.” You nod in agreement as one of the shock troopers approaches Hunter. 

“You’re being summoned by the prime minister once you are done here.” He tells him.

Hunter glances at you with a roll of his eyes. “Sounds about right…” 

“Thank you.” You nod to the shock trooper, who nods back and walks back down the corridor from the way he came. 

“So anyway, I was thinking after our next mission, we could take a few days and-” Hunter starts but cuts himself off when he hears something behind the medbay door. “Echo’s awake.”

You push off the wall and start to walk into the medbay, reminding yourself to ask what Hunter was going to say, later. Right now, you need to tend to your batchmate. 

When you walk into the room, you hear the Azi unit rambling on about some numbers and then you make eye contact with Echo as you come over to his side to check on him.

“Ha! Told you he’s alive!” Wrecker booms, startling Echo slightly and then points at Crosshair. “You owe me two credits!”

You roll your eyes at Crosshair. “Please tell me you didn’t think that Echo wasn’t actually going to make it.

“CT-1409’s condition is stable.” The Azi droid speaks up, hovering in front of Omega. 

“See, Echo? You’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand and he smiles up at you, slightly. 

“However, I have some distressing news for the rest of you.” Azi turns away from you and Echo. “According to your test results, you all appear to be genetically defective clones.”

“Tell me you’re not surprised.” You look over at Tech, who looks like he’s in deep thought.

“I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation.” The droid hovers away.

“We’ve got a problem.” Echo speaks up, sitting up more.

“Not really. We’re more deviant than we are defective.” Tech shrugs, but somehow you don’t think that’s what Echo was talking about. “Not that.” Echo shakes his head. “Admiral Tarkin is here. He’s the one evaluating the clones. 

“The same Tarkin from the Citadel rescue when you, uh…” Tech struggles to be delicate in choosing his words. “How shall I put this?”

You give him a soft, encouraging smile.

“Blew up?” Wrecker grins. 

You shake your head at the larger man and sit on the edge of the bed by Echo’s feet. 

“And turned into that.” Crosshair takes his toothpick out of his mouth and points it at Echo. 

You shoot the sniper a glare, knowing that you’re definitely going to give him an ear full later. There’s no reason for him to be so rude about Echo. You know that they’re completely different as people, but they’ve gotten along this far, right?

Echo doesn’t seem to mind Crosshair’s rude remark. He just sighs. “Yes, and he’s not a big supporter of clones.”

Hunter crosses his arms. “We’ll soon find out. We’ve been summoned by the Prime Minister.” 

“Guess he didn’t find that mess hall fight amusing. But I sure did.” Wrecker chuckles.

Of course he did. You’d expect nothing less from Wrecker. It’s one of the things that made you care about him, though. You wouldn’t change the man for anything.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Hunter nods toward the door. 

Echo hops off the exam table and you start to follow him out of the medbay into the corridor. Being summoned by the Prime Minister was definitely not something you’re looking forward to. Prime Minister Lama Su gives you the creeps. In fact, most of the Kaminoans do. There’s definitely something… secretive about them. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. 

“Wait! The fight was my fault. I’m going too.” Omega zooms in front of the group before you can leave, halting you all. 

“Not happening. We’ll handle this.” Hunter tells her, walking past her. 

“But, I-” Omega starts again. 

“Listen, Kid… Our squad’s nothing but trouble.” Hunter tells her firmly. “For your sake, keep your distance. Got it?”

He has a point. A child has no place with this squad. You’re always in danger or on the move. You give her an apologetic nod and head out with Hunter, leaving the child behind in the medbay. 

As you walk down the corridor, you try to catch Crosshair’s eye, he just sideyes you like he used to do back in the early days before you got together. You quirk your own eyebrow up and he smirks, slightly… barely… 

“That was a good hit earlier.” Crosshair compliments you. 

You break into a grin immediately, appreciating the feeling of normalcy. His smirk goes straight to your heart, a reminder that this is the man that you love with your entire heart. The man you’d go to war for. The man that can’t imagine your life without. 

“Do you think that there’s a way for-” Echo starts to ask you, but you're cut off by a Corrie captain stopping your squad.

“Where do you think you’re going? The training facility is that way.” The captain tells you with a rather rude tone, making you all turn toward him.

It’s the captain from earlier. The one who told you that the war was over. 

“Training facility?” Hunter steps in front of you, clearly confused.

“For a battle simulation.” The captain approaches Hunter. “Admiral Tarkin has requested to see more of your squad in action.”

“Then, we are not being reprimanded?” Tech asks from behind the group now. 

“No, you’re being tested. Now go gear up.” The captain moves his helmet in a way to look at you. “Except you. You’re not needed.” 

“So, we’re not in trouble, and they want us to fight more?” Wrecker looks downright gleeful, playfully bumping elbows with Tech, who doesn’t look appreciative of it. “Ha! Maybe this Empire thing isn’t so bad after all.”

You follow the guys to the area that’s just below the training facility so that they can gear up and grab weapons. With Echo mentioning Tarkin, you can’t help the bad feeling in your stomach that just seems to get worse. 

“You got everything you need?” You ask Crosshair as he looks down at you. 

He nods, seemingly distant again, putting his helmet back on. You give his hand a squeeze anyway and he tilts his head at the action, staring down at your hands.

“Good luck.” You smile up at him, anyway.

“We’ve done this hundreds of times.” Crosshair tells you, voice modulated, just making him sound more distant. 

“Right. Of course.” You let go of his hand and walk over to Hunter.

“Watch out for him.” You pat him in his plastoid arm piece.

Hunter smiles with a nod and you start to walk past Wrecker who gives you a fist bump as you walk out. You have to trust that everything is going to work out. Everything is changing, you know that. You’re just going to have to change with the times, you suppose.

It’s been a while since you’ve been without the guys breathing down your neck so you decide to go do some investigating. You need to know more about this “Order 66”. Like, why it’s even a thing. Why would they have an order ready to execute all the Jedi? 

Making your way to one of the server rooms that you know will be clear of any personnel, you try to get into the brain of Tech, knowing he’d know exactly what to look for and where to look for it. 

Pulling up a seat, you try to get into the server, not finding it incredibly difficult. You type “Order 66” and “Execute Jedi” into the search at the top of the large screen. What comes up, confuses you even more.

There’s nothing there. At all. It doesn’t make any sort of sense. No information. No names of Jedi who were executed… 

You know that you’re going to need Tech for this. 

You clear out the search and start to make your way back toward your barracks, only stopping at the mess hall to grab something quick to eat since you didn’t really get to eat dinner. 

You hear your name called, fondly. When you turn, you’re met with brown eyes and orange sun rays.

“Commander.” You smile, widely. 

Before your time with the batch, you spent time with the 212th. That’s how you met the Batch. Through Commander Cody. 

“How are you?” He asks you as you start walking out of the mess hall with your light snack. 

“I’m…” You start but then remember General Kenobi. 

Did Cody… He wouldn’t… There’s no way. They were joined at the hip, a mutual respect between the two of them like you’ve never seen with the other generals. Other than Skywalker and his men. 

“I-I’m just really tired today. I’ve taken a couple of naps and still feel exhausted…” You try to ignore the nauseous feeling easing its way into your stomach again. 

Please don’t throw up… Please don’t fucking throw up…

“It was a long day for sure. But the great news is, the war is over.” Cody smiles. 

“Thank the Maker.” You nod as you get ready to turn down the corridor where your barracks are.

Even Cody seems… different. More rigid than usual. 

“Indeed.” Cody agrees with a nod. “Tell the boys I said hello.”

“I will.” You nod back and walk back down to your barracks, walking in and sitting in your bunk against the wall. 

Don’t think about Kenobi. Or Skywalker. Or Ahsoka Tano. Or or or… 

You sit your loaf on a napkin on the crate by your bed, your appetite suddenly gone. All you want to do is lay down again. Deciding to do that, you hear the door swish open. 

“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” Wrecker storms in, angrily, bringing his fists down on the table. 

“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech sets his kit down on his workstation. 

You sit up immediately, looking to Hunter for an explanation. “Live rounds?”

“I tried to warn you about Tarkin.” Echo says, a deep scowl on his face.

You get up and walk over to Wrecker to examine him, instantly unclicking his armor and letting it drop. Echo guides him over to a seat so that you can take a better look.

“Who’s that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker grumbles, hitting the table as you pull his shirt up to inspect the blaster shot to his chest. 

“Stow it, already. You got shot.” Crosshair says with a stone expression. “It happens all the time.” 

Wrecker looks like a kicked puppy and you give Crosshair a glare before turning back around to face Wrecker. 

“Echo, grab my kit.” You point over to it by your bed.

Echo goes over to your bed and grabs your kit as Tech starts to argue with Crosshair. “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.”

You nod in agreement, angrily. Tarkin has always been a sketchy sort of guy, from what you’ve heard. You have half a mind to go and give him a piece of yours. 

“Exactly! We’re not dummy droids.” Wrecker fires off at Crosshair. 

You’ve never seen Wrecker so worked up. It hurts your heart that Crosshair’s being like this, knowing that you still needed to find answers. Making a mental reminder to talk to Tech about it, you’re about to ask Wrecker to take his shirt off when you hear a voice in the doorway.

“That much we can agree on.” 

Everyone stops to look at the sinister looking figure in the doorway, standing in between to shock troopers. Tarkin gives Hunter a warning stare sending everyone into attention, backs straight, eyes ahead. Wrecker pushes you away slightly so that he can stand at attention. You refuse. You stare the gray haired governor down. How dare he use your squad as target practice… Wrecker could have been killed! And it wouldn’t have mattered at all to this man.

Hunter catches your eye and gives you a “Be respectful look.” so with a roll of your eyes so hard that they could pop out of your head, you stand at attention as well, in between Wrecker and Crosshair. 

“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin muses as he steps into the barracks. 

“Didn’t have much choice.” Hunter grumbles and you look over at him. 

He’s clearly incredibly unhappy with what went down in the training facility. You should’ve been there. You should’ve gone with them… You’re a part of this squad too.

“Our new Empire may have methods that seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron.” Tarkin replies, looking at each man. “Both certainly have their merits.”

It sends your skin crawling, the way he’s looking at them… Like they’re objects… things.

“Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones.” Tarkin stops to look up at Wrecker, his eyes roving over Wrecker like he’s just a thing that can be bought or replaced. “She claims you're more capable than an army.”

The need to give this man a piece of your mind starts to become stronger, but Hunter gives you a warning look, almost as if he could read your thoughts. It’s always been like that… Hunter understands you more than you understand yourself a lot.

Tarkin doesn’t even glance your way, as if you’re invisible.

“You have a mission for us sir?” Hunter asks. 

“Indeed. We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.” Tarkin approaches Hunter. 

“What sort of insurgents?” Echo speaks up.

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war.” Tarkin tells him and you look up at Crosshair, who remains stone cold and expressionless. “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.” 

“You, however, will no longer be needed.” Tarkin turns toward you. “You’re to meet with Mistress Nala Se when this squad leaves. I would say your goodbyes.”

At that, Tarkin nods and walks out of the barracks, leaving you and the Batch quiet. 

Saying your goodbyes? You don’t understand… You’ve only been with the Batch a year, but it feels longer… Like you’ve known them your whole life. How could you just leave them?

“Alright. Sit back down.” You guide Wrecker back down to the seat so that you can patch him up.

You can feel all the guys’ eyes on you but you need to focus on the large man in front of you, trying to remember to think before you speak. They’re all at a loss for words like you, probably. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You turn to Echo, briefly, before returning your gaze to Wrecker. “And you too.”

“We… we didn’t think we’d ever have to say goodbye…” Wrecker mumbles, sadly. 

You finish patching him up and pat his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile and shrug. “We knew this wouldn’t be forever.” 

When you turn to look at Crosshair, he’s watching you. But you ignore him and go to pack your bunk up. 

“I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.” You shrug.

Unsure of what else to say, you turn back around to face them. Hunter approaches you first and offers his hand. You look down at it for a moment before looking back up at him and then throw your arms around him. He seems startled for a moment but wraps his arms around you as well.

“Thanks for everything, sarge. I’ve learned a lot from you.” You pull away. “From all of you really. Especially you, Tech.” 

You smile over at the goggled clone and he looks slightly flustered, giving a nod and then fixing his goggles. 

You hug Echo next. He’s more accepting of your reassignment, knowing this is how it is in the military. But Wrecker looks like he’s about to cry. Wrecker doesn’t do well with change, you all know that, so it’s going to be up to the guys to try to help him adjust.

When you look at Crosshair, he just nods. It’s final and definitely a break up. But it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

“That’s all?” Echo asks him. “A nod?” 

“What, do you want to throw her a going away party?” Crosshair rolls his eyes, putting a toothpick between his lips. 

“It’s fine. It was never that serious anyway, right?” You shrug, grabbing your pack and then heading over to Tech to shake his hand, knowing he’s not the hugging type. 

He squeezes your hand a little longer, though, surprising even you. 

“You will be missed.” Tech murmurs. 

You smile up at him and nod. “You too.” 

When you let go, you head to the doorway, turning to look at them one more time. They all still look at a loss for words, but when you look at Crosshair, he’s sitting on his bunk, rubbing his forehead as if he’s got a headache. 

Oh well, not your problem anymore, right?

As you walk down the brightly lit, white corridors, you remember you didn’t even get to tell Tech about what you found. You’ll have to send him a transmission later, if possible. He’d be able to find out more, with or without your help. Not that he needs it anyway.

You try not to think about how much you’re really going to miss the guys. You try not to think about Crosshair and your past together, or Your and Hunter’s late night talks, or Echo’s trust in you to have his back, or Wrecker’s laugh when the two of you would goof off, or Tech’s ability to teach you something new every single day. 

This was going to be a huge change. Something you’re not ready or prepared for. 

“Do you want to know what I think?” Echo asks Crosshair as they’re in hyperspace on the way to Onderon.

“Don’t care.” Crosshair rolls his eyes. 

“I think you love her and you’re afraid to-” Echo starts.

“Shut up and mind your business. Before I make you.” Crosshair points his toothpick at Echo, warning him.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?” Echo rolls his eyes. 

“Keep talking and you’ll find out.” Crosshair promises him.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Tech asks Hunter.

“Huh?” Hunter looks up, deep in thought. “Oh… Both of you shut up.” 

Echo and Crosshair listen to their sergeant and quit their bickering. It’s enough that they lost you… but to have in-fighting immediately after you’re gone? And then with Crosshair still acting weird, and the wariness he got from Omega trying to warn him about Kamino changing? It’s just too much for Hunter to handle right now.

“What are we going to do without her?” Wrecker grumbles from the cockpit doorway. 

“We can’t think about that right now, Wrecker. We need to focus on the mission.” Hunter sighs from the co-pilot seat. “I know it’s going to be hard, but we have to finish the mission. And then we can figure it out from there. Alright?” 

“Okay.” Wrecker mumbles and then goes back to the bunks.

The thing is… he doesn’t know. He never thought this far ahead. Not without you… He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage without your laugh or your smile every day. Or when you remind him that he needs to sleep. Or the way that you always seem to know exactly what he needs and how he knows what you need. The way that you’re both so in sync that it almost scares him…

How is he supposed to carry on like normal? What did they do before you, and why can’t he remember? 

When you make your way to Nala Se’s lab, you find the Azi droid from earlier. 

“Um, hello.” You wave. “I’m looking for Nala Se, have you seen her by chance?” 

“She went to find her medical assistant. She will be back momentarily.” The droid tells you.

“Thanks.” You nod and go to look out the window at the raging seas below. 

It’s raining and storming, of course. Nothing new for Kamino, but with all that’s going on, it just feels even more gloomy than usual. Like the sky is maybe a little too caliginous… Like what you feel on the inside without the Batch. 

You hear your name behind you and find Nala Se with Omega, who has a look of concern on her face, but when she sees you, the concern fades away and a look of relief takes its place.

“I was told to come find you, by Governor Tarkin.” You tell her.

“Yes, you will no longer be needed with Clone Force 99. I would like to give you the option to either stay here on Kamino and assist me, or you can join the new recruits coming in.” She tells you.

“New recruits?” You ask, confused.

“There will be a new army… of non clone humans. They will need medics as well.” She replies.

You look at Omega momentarily and she shakes her head. You tilt yours, confused. 

“Omega, will you go get Taun We please?” She asks the child. “Azi, please assist her and make sure she stays on task.”

“Yes, mistress.” Azi follows Omega to the door.

Omega gives you one last pleading look, which you still don’t understand. But you decide that no matter what, you’re going to figure it out. The Kaminoans have always been secretive about things, but you can’t help but think that this child has something to do with the Batch. Why else would she know who they were?

“I actually forgot some stuff in my barracks, so I’ll be back in a bit.” You lie to Nala Se. “If I run into Taun We, I’ll let her know my decision.”

The Kaminoan woman nods and you head back out and down the corridor to find Omega. And hopefully to also find some answers. 

“Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar.” You hear inside your barracks and then see a few troopers entering the room, one of them the Corrie captain from earlier. “You. You’re coming with me.”

You get to the door in time to see the captain trying to grab Omega and the Azi droid trying to stop him.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size.” You get his attention in time to punch him in the helmet, a little stupidly, you might add, because pain shoots up your arm instantly. 

Ignoring the pain, you jump on the captain’s back trying to get him to let go of Omega, but unfortunately you don’t see the two other troopers come for you. You only feel a jolt of electricity shoot throughout your body, realizing you’ve just been stunned as you drift into unconsciousness, trying desperately to tell Omega to run. 

On the way back to Kamino, Hunter paces the Marauder, thinking about what the Empire is doing. He starts thinking about those innocent kids that Tarkin wasn’t even thinking twice about wiping out. He thinks about his argument with Crosshair. He thinks about you. About how it seemed pretty final between you and Crosshair. Would he ever stand a chance with you? It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is getting you and Omega back, where you’ll be safe. He’ll keep you safe, no matter what it takes.

“I know why you’re really going back.” Crosshair tells Hunter when he’s back by the bunks.

Hunter doesn’t acknowledge him. He doesn’t have to. He knows what Crosshair’s going to say.

“Don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at her.” Crosshair sneers. “Or the way you pine after her like some lovesick pup.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Hunter says, turning to face his brother, leaning against the wall.

Crosshair lets out an unamused laugh. “Don’t worry. I see the way she looks at you too.” 

Hunter’s chest tightens. What does Crosshair mean by that? 

“I guess since I’m done with her, you’re going to want a turn?” Crosshair continues to try to push Hunter’s buttons.

Hunter’s stare hardens. “You better stop talking, vod.” 

Crosshair smirks and walks back up into the cockpit. He was clearly not in his right frame of mind. There’s no way he’d actually ever say that about you, right? Hunter knows that Crosshair loves you. He’s heard the way that the man’s heart picks up when you enter a room. The way that Crosshair smiles at you when he thinks no one is watching. The way that Crosshair’s touch lingers on your body when they’re out in the field. 

Crosshair isn’t fooling Hunter and Hunter intends to find out what’s really making him act this way.

“Well, the plan wasn’t a total failure.” You hear Tech’s voice before you open your eyes. 

It’s followed by your name murmured by Hunter and then you feel hands on your face. 

“Goody…” You hear Crosshair’s voice.

You slowly open your eyes, a little disoriented, and try to sit up, rubbing your head and then remembering what happened. “O-Omega!” 

You try to stand up but Hunter pulls you back down, trying to brace you so he can keep you steady. 

“She’s here. She’s alright.” Hunter says.

When you look beside you, she waves, smiling sheepishly. 

“Where-” You look around, seeing the guys out of their armor, only in their bodysuits and then take notice that you’re in some sort of jail cell. 

“I warned you to not come back…” Omega tells Hunter. 

“Had to. We were looking for you.” Hunter smiles. “For both of you, actually.” 

“Me?” She points at herself, unable to believe it. 

“What do you say, kid? You wanna come with us or did we get captured for nothing?” He asks her.

You smile at her as you lean against Hunter, still not quite sure you can stand up just yet. 

“You came back for me?” She can’t believe it. 

The wonder in her eyes pulls at your heart-strings and then you realize that she wasn’t expecting anyone to come for her and that makes your heart clench. 

“That’s right. Or you can stay on Kamino if-” Hunter starts but she cuts him off.

“No, it’s like I said before. I want to go with you.” She insists, standing up. 

Hunter helps you stand long enough to sit you down on the bench against the wall.

“How touching.” Crosshair sneers from behind the group with crossed arms. 

You all look at him. He somehow doesn’t even look like himself right now. You know that this is him… obviously. But the way that he’s glaring at Hunter… At Omega… It just doesn’t sit well with you.

Hunter glares right back at his brother, looking like he’s prepared for a fight. You rarely see Hunter scowl so deeply.

Wrecker coughs, awkwardly. “Um, Hunter. How are we getting out of here?” 

Hunter’s glare doesn’t ease up. “I’m working on it.” 

Hunter and Crosshair continue to glare at each other in a way that seems deeper than what’s going on. You look at Crosshair but he refuses to break first. 

“You know what you should work on?” Crosshair steps toward Hunter with his finger pointing at the sergeant. “Explaining when you went soft.”

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Echo gives him a gentle push, not letting him get any closer to Hunter. 

You stand up, finally, your legs finally feeling a bit stronger, and step in front of Omega, protectively.

“Don’t you see we’re locked up in here because of him? He had us disobey orders.” Crosshair fumes, anger clear on his face for the first time ever. 

It worries you to see him like this. You just want the old Crosshair back. 

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Tech fixes his goggles.

“Yeah. We do it all the time.” Wrecker tries to level with Crosshair, clearly not understanding why his brother is being like this either. 

“Good soldiers follow orders!” Crosshair tells his brothers angrily. “Every choice you’ve made since Kaller has been wrong. First, the padawan, then Gerrera. And now…” 

He glances at Omega and then you. As if you weren’t worth coming back for. He doesn’t have to say it. You know what he means. 

He looks back at Hunter. “You’re becoming a liability.” 

“We can debate my choices later. For now, let’s focus on getting outta here.” Hunter tells him, glancing at you to make sure you’re alright. 

“There’s that look again. The one you think no one notices.” Crosshair sneers with crossed arms. “Even though it's obvious to everyone.” 

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker look between Hunter and Crosshair, prepared to step in if Hunter’s gonna throw a punch. It’s not completely undeserved.

“Stop it.” You step in front of Crosshair, gently pushing him away from the group. “Stop saying things just to be hurtful.” 

“I’m only saying things that are true, Princess.” He shrugs, leaning in, voice low. “Besides, like I told him… now that I’m done with you, he can have you.”

This is the first time in a long time that you’ve ever been made to feel so… used… like you didn’t mean anything to him… 

With wide, hurt eyes, and anger coursing through your veins, you shove him away from you and go sit on the opposite side of the cell and don’t notice the way he sits down and rubs his temple. You also don’t notice the way that Omega goes to sit next to him. What you do notice is Echo sitting down next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. 

“If… you want me to punch him… just let me know.” Echo murmurs, trying to get you to crack a smile.

It works, obviously, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I may take you up on that just this once.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Hunter tells you from the wall, quietly. You nod to him, not knowing exactly what he means by that. Does he mean what’s going on with Crosshair? Or this new Empire? Or with Omega? Or with… the two of you? Not that there’s really anything to figure out. He’s your best friend. Right?

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@twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3

Gonna read after my X-ray brb

Inspired by @paperback-rascal ‘s prompt and glorious artwork where Crosshair, after being left on the landing platform on Kamino, suffers from sunstroke, I wrote this fic!

Sun-Kissed

Hot, sunny days were rare on Kamino. However, as the sun beat down and Crosshair began to feel faint, he stared up at the cloudless sky and realized that he had made a mistake. Perhaps the Empire wouldn’t come for him after all.

Characters: Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, Hunter, Echo

Wordcount: 3,303

Chapters: 1 of 3

Warnings: Blood, vomit, talk of death, descriptions of heat stroke, descriptions anxiety and feelings of betrayal.

Hours ago, (Days? Weeks? Years? The time seemed to slip through his fingers like sand) Crosshair had watched the Havoc Marauder become smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a single point of reflected light, far, far away, and he’d been certain that the Empire would come to retrieve him. He was important, after all. He was a commander. They needed him. Didn’t they need him? Wasn’t he important? Did he matter at all? Or was he nothing more than a dark stain on a pinprick of light, so small and insignificant that nothing in the great vacuum of space could hear his tiny cries for help?

After hours and hours and hours, the skies remained silent.

Yet Crosshair, ever the good soldiers, persisted. He had used his com to alert the Empire of his escape from the ruined Tipoca City; he’d given them his coordinates and tipped his head towards the sky, certain that, at any moment, Rampart’s star destroyer would emerge from hyperspace and appear at the zenith to take him home.

The skies, however, remained silent, and Crosshair’s requests for rescue remained unanswered. Crosshair, however, was steadfast and waited patiently. He had been loyal to the Empire. Surely, they would come for him. He had earned that right—the right to be rescued, the right to be needed. He had proven himself worthy.

Did they know that he had disobeyed orders? That he had turned his gun on the TKs in order to protect his old squad? Did they understand the depth of his failure, as his brothers did?

Crosshair’s armor was thermo-regulated, designed to withstand any weather. He could spend hours in the sweltering heat, crouching on burning sand; he could endure sub-zero temperatures, buried in the snow and ice for as long and the mission required; he could brave hail the size of his fist and comfortably wait out torrential downpours, all without consequence—

But this black shell was not his armor.

As with every faulty simulacrum the Empire attempted to recreate in a more “perfect” form—like his squadron of conscripted soldiers; like the medical treatment he’d received after Bracca; perhaps even like Crosshair himself—Crosshair’s fancy new imperial armor was nothing more than a cheaper, poorly-designed, less functional recreation of something the Republic had done right.

As the hours ticked by, heat began creeping into his dark armor until his sweat-soaked blacks were plastered to his back. At some point, to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, he removed his helmet with trembling fingers, and it slipped from his weakening grasp, tumbling off of the platform and disappearing into the dark waters below. He cursed and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes to keep himself from screaming in frustration.

Where was the Empire? Weren’t they coming for him? Hadn’t he proved he was worth-while? He felt stupid and childish and jealous and afraid. What if the Empire never came for him? Would the Batch come to his rescue, if he cried out for help?

Tech and Echo and Wrecker had pointed their blasters at him. In the pods, when he had lifted his rifle to rescue the girl, they had pointed their blasters at him, as if they thought he had intended to slaughter Hunter or the child. Why would they think that? Hadn’t he proved, over and over and over again, that he was unwilling to kill them? Even under direct orders and the heavy influence of the chip, every shot he fired missed. In the end, he had picked his brothers over his sloppy TK squadron; he had murdered them to rescue his brothers. He had sided with them. His loyalty, as fierce as it was for the Empire, had always been to his brothers first. Hadn’t they seen that? Hadn’t he proven himself worthy of their trust?

They had turned their blasters on him.

Crosshair’s fingers dug into the side of his head, pain sparking across the length of scarred flesh. Their lack of trust was understandable, he supposed. Perhaps they hadn’t known about the inhibitor chip. Perhaps, when he shot Wrecker, they assumed he had done so of his own volition, and their trust in him had shattered in an instant. He hadn’t wanted to shoot Wrecker. He hadn’t wanted any of this. Did they know that? If he told them, would they believe him? Would they rescue him if the rains came and the violent waves threaten to swallow him whole? Had he earned that right?

The heat was becoming unbearable. The platform was small and there was not place to take shelter from the rare, sweltering sun. His legs hurt. His head began to swim. He began to pace to keep himself concentrated on his objective.

...what was his object, again?

Right. To be rescued.

So Crosshair waited. The Empire was coming for him. Somebody would come for him. Right?

Why would they? His traitors thoughts asked.

Crosshair’s chapped lips curled into a snarl. Because I am a commander. He answered. Because I am important.

You are expendable. His thoughts replied. You have always been expendable.

When he was a child, he had struggled in social situations. He lacked Wrecker’s sense of humor, compassion, and good nature; he lacked Tech’s inability to be effected by the cruelty of others; he lacked Hunter’s rationality and empathy. He didn’t consider himself an enjoyable person to be around and, for the most part, kept to himself for fear of further ostracization. Unfortunately, his lowered self-esteem began to effect his team-mates during training courses. It was easy to become so consumed by his fears that he was somehow a burden on his teammates, that he lost focus on his objective and his accuracy suffered. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, his worst fears began to manifest: his team began to fail because he couldn’t keep up.

So he trained. He trained and he trained and he trained. He spent hours on the shooting range, forgoing sleep and food to refine his craft. He wasn’t created to be somebody’s brother or friend, he was created to be a sniper. It was in his DNA. It was, in his head, the only reason that people kept him around. During those long, sleepless night, as he set into the routine and his mind began to wander, anxiety festering like an abscess, it was easy to imagine his three older brother barring the door of their barracks and refusing to let him enter unless he proved his worth.

Hunter was an incredible leader, wise and dedicated, and his senses were incredibly sharp; Wrecker was strong and kind and gave good hugs; Tech was intelligent and witty and he could fix anything;

And Crosshair was angry and rude and he could shoot good.

A drone could do his job.

So he practiced. He practiced and practiced and practiced until he was better than everybody, and he was certain that he had proven his worth and secured a place in Clone Force 99-

And they abandoned him.

The taught the girl to shoot. They gave her his com. They replaced him.

They turned their blasters on him.

Crosshair’s face began to hurt. The skin that stretched across his cheeks and forehead began to burn, as if they had been pulled too tight. He knelt at the edge of the platform, hoping the spray of salty water would cool his sunburnt face, and his legs gave out from under him, nearly sending him plummeting into the water, where he would be swallowed up and forgotten.

“Expendable. Adjective. First definition: describing an object of little significance when compared to an overall purpose, and therefore able to be abandoned. Second definition: describing an object designed to be used only once, and then abandoned or destroyed,” Tech recited. His voice came rolling in on the waves, and Crosshair propelled himself to his feet, twisting around frantically in search of his brother, but nobody was there.

“That’s why we never came back for you!” Wrecker’s disembodied voice boomed over the nothingness. “Because you don’t matter at all!”

“Actually, we were pretty happy to get rid of your sorry ass. Things are better now that you’re gone,” Echo’s voice made Crosshair stamp his foot and clamp his hand over his ears.

His head was pounding. His heart was racing. Suddenly, he pitched forward and vomited into the ocean. With such desperation that his fingers dug into the sharp edges of plastoid and bled, he pried off his armor and stripped off the top half of his blacks, practically throwing it into water with the hope that the wet material would cool down his sweltering skin. But the water-logged cloth was too heavy for his heat-weakened grasp and was eventually tugged away by the current.

Crosshair laid there, on his stomach, for a long time. The sun kissed his back until it blistered. The skies remained silent. Nobody was coming for him. His lips cracked and oozed blood. His mouth hung open and his dry tongue felt too heavy and made swallowing painful. At some point, he stopped sweating, and his skin dried in the sun like leather.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his brothers. He didn’t care if they never trusted him again. And... of course they wouldn’t- they held him at blaster-point. They came back for Hunter, but not for him. Never for him.

They abandoned him.

He was expendable.

Crosshair laughed, almost hysterically. He wanted to cry, but there wasn’t enough liquid in his body to produce tears. Would they forgive him if he apologized? Would they rescue him if he begged them to come back?

Forcing himself up onto his hands and knees, he vomited again. There was nothing left in his stomach, so the convulsions brought up only bile until his stomach was empty of that substance as well. It was liquid he couldn’t afford to lose. Unfortunately, the spasm didn’t stop. He heaved and heaved until his sides ached and his throat burned. When, at last, the cramping stopped, he collapsed onto his side and gasped for air.

He was frightened. He was dying.

Moving as if on auto pilot, he retrieved his com and inputted the Marauder’s frequency—he knew it by heart.

He said something into the com, but he wasn’t sure what. He couldn’t hear himself speaking anymore. He felt like he was standing above himself, watching his body bake in the sun.

Slowly, slowly, he once again tried to push himself onto his hands and knees, but the effort proved to great, and he lost consciousness.

- - -

When Crosshair woke, he was laying on his bunk in the Marauder. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know where he was—the smell was pungent and familiar. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open. The room was dim. Pain coursed through his head—he could feel his pulse pounding behind his eyes—but the bed beneath him was soft and cool, and he felt so relieved he wanted to cry.

“Hey there, Cross. How’re you feeling?” That was Hunter’s voice. Crosshair squeezed his eyes shut, afraid that, if he turned his head, nobody would be there.

“Cross?” Hunter asked again, voice gentle, and the sniper felt a firm hand rest on his chest.

Crosshair cracked his eyes open. There he was, right beside him. There they all were, playing a round of sabaac on the floor beside his bed. He wanted to cry, but no tears came. He couldn’t help but think of all those hours he’d spent alone, on the shooting range, and he was happy. They’d come back for him, hadn’t they? Had he proven his worth?

“There he is! We thought you were never gonna wake up!” Wrecker boomed with a grin. There was no greater sight in the galaxy.

“You look like shit,” Echo said with an equally warm smile, and Crosshair allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch upwards.

“I feel like shit,” he agreed, his voice hoarse.

Wanting to be with his brothers, Crosshair rose from the bed slowly. His body was numb and his head felt hazy, like he was hungover, or waking up from sedation. It was hard to think straight. His skin hurt. Once upright, he paused for a moment as a wave of nausea rolled over him. His mouth suddenly tasted tangy and Echo, scowling, passed him a rag.

“Here. You’re getting blood everywhere and I just cleaned the floor,” he grumbled.

Blood?

Crosshair knit his brows together as confusion welled up into his throat and his stomach twisted with worry. He pressed the cloth against his nose and his eyes widened in surprise when it came back coated in blood. His nose was bleeding. Why was his nose bleeding? Should he be worried? Should the others be worried?

There was a heavy, uncomfortable pressure that suddenly swelled in his abdomen, and he groaned, doubling over and pressed a hand to his hip. A sharp, hot pain spiked across his lower back and, for a moment, he thought, with some panic, that he was dying. However, after a moment of labored breathing, the pain subsided (or grew distant and numb) and his fear eased.

“Acute renal failure,” Tech surmised, pushing up his goggles with one finger. “Your body is too hot, and it’s lost too much fluid. Your brain is swelling and your kidneys are shutting down,”

Too hot? No, no, no, that wasn’t right at all. He was on the Marauder, wasn’t? They’d rescued him, they’d cooled him off. He was home, he was forgiven, he was safe. Right?

Crosshair grit his teeth as panic flashed through him. As usual, he attempted to stuff the more vulnerable emotion away, hiding it behind a thick layer of anger. His brothers were watching him, but nobody moved towards him. They didn’t seem to care. Why weren’t they doing anything?

“Help me!” he snarled, stepping towards his brothers, and Tech merely quirked a brow.

“Crosshair, we can’t help you,” he said, as if the fact was obvious. “This isn’t real. You betrayed us. Surely we wouldn’t give you this much autonomy if you were actually on board the ship with us. Don’t you remember? You commed us for help, and nobody answered,”

“You’re lying,” Crosshair’s voice was tight and practically dripping with vitriol.

“Why would I lie? How would that benefit me? Or you, rather, as I’m not really here. Thiis,” Tech said, gesturing to the room around them. “Is just your brain, processing what it feels like it needs to,”

“What?” Crosshair cried, sharp and indignant. Blood continued to stream down his face. He tried, with great irritation, to wipe it away, but it always came back and the flow only grew heavier.

“You probably just wanted to pretend like you weren’t going to be alone when you died!” Wrecker exclaimed with a hearty laugh.

The panic, in that instant, was blinding. Something tugged on his leg and, when he looked down, he immediately wished he hadn’t: the room was filling, ever so slowly, with tar. Crosshair grasped, nearly choking on the breath as it caught in his throat, and tried, desperately, to pry his legs out of the muck.

“There’s no use fighting it, you know,” Echo said gently, moving forward and resting a comforting hand on the sniper’s shoulder, just as the sniper had done for him when they’d rescued him on Skako Minor. “It’s going to be okay,”

Echo’s words of comfort sparked a wildfire of furious, blind anger in Crosshair, who violently shoved the ARC trooper backwards.

Crosshair twisted around, as if he could find somewhere else to escape. Behind him was a white, sterile hallway—like the ones in Tipoca City—so impossibly long that he couldn’t see the end of it. One by one, the lights began to switch off, and darkness began creeping up the hallway.

“A clever analogy,” Tech said, intrigued. “Your organs are shutting down,”

“Fuck off,” Crosshair spat and Tech merely shrugged.

“Hey! Leave ‘im alone! He’s only here ‘cause you want him here!” Wrecker bellowed. He was still sitting on the floor, unbothered as the tar swallowed up his legs and continued to climb.

Crosshair squeezed his eyes shut. “What’s going to happen to me?” he croaked, his voice hoarse from the dryness of his throat.

Hunter knit his brows together and put a heavy, comforting hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “You’re going to die,”

“And when high-tide comes, you’re body will be swept away and eaten by the aquatic life. Eventually your armor and bones will sink to the bottom and falling sediment will collect on them until you’re buried. If you’re lucky, over millions of years, you might be fossilized,” Tech explained. “So, at least your life won’t be a total waste,”

The pressure in Crosshair’s abdomen was mounting. Behind him, the lights continued to flip off, one by one. “How pleasant,” he sneered. Then, suddenly, his shoulders slumped. “Will you remember me?” he asked his brothers.

Hunter smiled. “Of course we will,” he said.

Crosshair’s eyes narrowed and flickered over to Tech. “Will you really?”

Tech smiled. “Not likely,”

“What d’you want, Cross?” Wrecker asked.

The sniper’s eyes drifted shut and he swayed; one hand gripped his abdomen, and the other hand gripped his head. “I want... I want to go back home,” It was a horrible, frightening thing to admit, but he was so tired. He didn’t want to be angry anymore. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to go home.

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer on the Marauder. Instead, he was in their barracks on Tipoca City. His brothers were small and dressed in red and blue outfits they had worn as cadets.

Everything was so much easier back then.

Tech looked up from his workbench, his goggled a little too big for his head. Hunter, who sprawled out on his bunk reading a holo-novel on his datapad, sat up and grinned.

“Cross! You’re back! Where were you?” he asked.

Crosshair stepped closer on wobbly legs. “I... was at the shooting range,” he explained, and Tech frowned, sticking out his bottom lip.

“You spend too much time there. You’re not getting enough sleep,” he tutted.

“Yeah! And we miss you!” Wrecked exclaimed. His face was not marred by any blast scars. He had a full head of curly, dark hair and two big, brown eyes.

“You missed me?” Crosshair echoed, almost in disbelief.

“Of course we missed you. You’re our brother,” Echo protested. Echo... Echo wasn’t supposed to be there. He was small and healthy and whole, and Crosshair was glad he was there.

“What if I can’t shoot good enough?” Crosshair asked, and his bottom lip quivered.

“So what?” Hunter asked. “We don’t care how good you can shoot. We’re just happy you’re here,”

Crosshair took another wobbly step forward and rubbed his eyes. His vision was starting to blur around the edges. He looked to Tech, expecting the clever young clone to tell him not to fall asleep, but he merely smiled.

“It’s okay, Cross. We’ve got you,”

“Are you sleepy?” Wrecker asked. He wiped his sticky, jam-covered fingers on the bedspread and rose from his bunk. The gesture was disgusting and so, terribly familiar. Crosshair wanted to cry.

“Yes, Wrecker. I am extremely exhausted,” he croaked.

“Aww...! Come here!” His older brother exclaimed and outstretched his arms.

The sniper stumbled forward, desperate for the comfort and safety of his big brother’s embrace. He felt awful. Wrecker would make him feel better. Wrecker always knew how to make him feel better.

Crosshair collapsed, alone, on the landing platform in the middle of the Kaminoan oceans. Far above him, the skies came to life as the Havoc Marauder emerged from hyperspace and appeared at the zenith.

Me the whole week