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Crosshair’s jaw tightened as he stared out the viewport at the familiar ship parked just across the way, and he shook his head testily in a vain attempt to relax, to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.
Omega, overjoyed to see the Marauder waiting for them – no, Crosshair corrected himself, it was waiting for her – on the desolate moon, had wasted no time dashing off the cargo ship almost before it fully landed. Crosshair was taking his time to follow, telling himself it was to give his sister uninterrupted time to reunite with Hunter and Wrecker, but knowing the real reason was to delay facing his brothers again.
He knew his former squad-mates weren’t expecting him. Omega had done precisely what any professional soldier would do, keeping the coded transmission brief and to the point. No superfluous explanations that she had dragged a disgraced brother and a lurca hound off Tantiss with her, just a short message identifying herself and providing coordinates for a rendezvous.
He saw Wrecker exit the Marauder, arms open wide with a smile that seemed to stretch even wider across his face, and witnessed Omega fly across the dusty ground to embrace him. For some reason, this display prodded Crosshair into movement, though his throat threatened to close up on him as he turned to leave the flight deck, and he nearly choked as he forced himself to swallow.
He was a skilled soldier, an elite sniper, the best of the best. He had faced down armies of battle droids and hordes of monsters and waves of defiant insurgents and, more recently, a certain hateful lieutenant and various interrogation devices without batting an eye. Why was he so nervous now?
He wished he could be angry at his brothers. He had been so resentful, so bitter, so isolated for so long, thinking his brothers had turned their backs on him. It would make things so much easier now if he could still be furious with them, if he had any excuse left to justify all he had done. But he had no excuse – he knew that now. The only person he could be angry with was himself. And he was – oh, how angry he was at himself! But self-disgust just made all of this worse.
As he started making his way toward the ramp, he thought he overheard Omega say, “I had help” – and the dreaded moment arrived before he had time to change his mind.
His brothers had noticed him. And the intensity of their gaze made him pull up short, almost to the point of backpedaling.
They looked angry – well, okay, maybe not angry, but definitely suspicious, solemn, guarded, wary; surprised, but not in a good way, and certainly not welcoming. Hunter had often worn a similar expression when pondering the squad’s options for tackling a problem, Crosshair was used to that; it was the same look on Wrecker’s face that gave Crosshair pause.
But why wouldn’t they be suspicious, guarded, even angry? Had he really expected anything else? Last time he had seen them, he had lashed out at them, attacked them, called them his enemies. Hunter had tried to warn him about the Empire, get the squad safely away from the destruction the Empire was causing, and reassure him that they didn’t need to be enemies; and Crosshair had responded by trying to shoot Hunter, arguing with every decision made, and gloating over his own self-assured success as a valued Imperial soldier. Wrecker, wearing his heart on his sleeve as usual, had invited Crosshair multiple times to rejoin the squad; in return, Crosshair had belittled Wrecker’s intelligence and impatiently rebuffed his efforts.
He was rather grateful there were only the two of them to face at the moment; but in his rising panic he thought of his other brothers. He knew Echo was likely with Rex – Omega had told him as much – but for one wild, unthinking second, he wondered why Tech hadn’t yet left the Marauder to join the reunion… And then he clenched his jaw even more tightly against the searing pain of remembering that Tech wasn’t on the Marauder, Crosshair would never see his brother again, all because he, Crosshair, had been a stubborn idiot. And Crosshair didn’t even have the solace of knowing he was the only one to suffer the consequences of his foolishness; no, he was still alive, while Tech was dead for trying to save Crosshair from the results of his own poor choices.
There was, thankfully, no time to continue thinking about Tech. Under Hunter’s and Wrecker’s steady stares, Crosshair’s self-loathing quickly gave way to a wave of near-crippling doubt and a touch of defensive defiance. He thought he had changed, but he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. And his brothers didn’t know the extent to which he had suffered, how much he regretted, how desperately he wanted to make up for his mistakes. Even if he told them what he had gone through – which he couldn’t, he didn’t even want to think about it, much less talk about it – they wouldn’t believe him anyway. They would always be suspicious of him. He could never again be their brother like before.
This was a mistake.
It had only been a few seconds since he had met Hunter’s and Wrecker’s eyes, but it was clear he wasn’t wanted here, there was too much animosity, and he couldn’t fathom how to even begin to correct it. His knee-jerk reaction to conflict – being bitingly sarcastic and argumentative – wouldn’t help this situation, that much he knew. He should turn around, take the stolen Imperial ship, and go… where, he didn’t know, he just knew that even if he was caught, he was NEVER going to let himself be taken back to Tantiss; but it didn’t matter where he went. Omega was with Hunter and Wrecker, she was where she wanted to be, and she didn’t need him.
He was so wrapped up in his panicked thoughts, staring unseeingly across the distance that separated him from those he had once called “brothers,” that, elite soldier though he may be, he didn’t notice Omega quietly approaching until she was almost right next to him.
Gently, she took his hand and held it tight as she guided him down the last few steps toward the others. Stopping just a few feet away from Wrecker, Omega gazed frankly at her brothers and said simply, “Crosshair was a prisoner, like me. He helped me escape. I wouldn’t have made it here without him.”
At this, Wrecker’s expression relaxed and a hint of gratitude softened his eyes; but Hunter’s brows drew even closer together in a look just shy of being a glower. Crosshair held his breath, waiting for judgment, and it was only Omega’s gentle yet steel-like grip on his hand that stopped him from carrying out his resolve to leave.
In the heavy silence that followed Omega’s declaration, Wrecker’s eyes finally darted toward Hunter, and suddenly Crosshair realized his brothers wanted him to break the silence. What’s more, Omega was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to follow through on the opening she had made for him.
He was far from ready to speak – his throat was still constricting painfully and he had no idea what to say, a mere apology wouldn’t even begin to fix all this and might come across as insincere – but he supposed it was only fair for him to try, even if only for Omega’s sake. No sooner had he opened his mouth and uttered a weak “Hunter, I…”, however, than a high-pitched yip sounded behind him; and suddenly he and Omega were forced apart as a powerful hound shoved her way between them to stare down the strangers.
Well, apparently Batcher had woken up from her nap. Rather too late to have done any good if the strangers – Hunter and Wrecker – had been enemies, Crosshair thought sardonically, but there was no point in mentioning it.
Omega was laughing, Wrecker looked caught between uncertain surprise and curious excitement, and Hunter’s brows were now raised in a questioning look that somehow managed to conceal his alarm.
“Omega, what’s that?” Hunter asked slowly.
“This is Batcher,” Omega replied happily as she patted the hound. “She helped with our escape, too. Batcher,” she addressed the beast firmly, “this is Wrecker and Hunter. They’re friends.”
Batcher apparently somehow understood, for she barked happily and leapt at Wrecker, who let out a startled “Whoa!” as the hound put her front paws on his chest and wagged her tail wildly. Recovering quickly, Wrecker began enthusiastically rubbing the hound’s head, a huge smile on his face that made Crosshair’s heart ache as he remembered Wrecker’s similar excitement upon meeting blurrgs for the first time during one of their earliest missions. Batcher very soon turned her attention to Hunter, who, having seen what to expect, responded rather more calmly and preempted her jumping by crouching down to greet her with a level expression.
“Did you disable the tracking beacon on that ship?” Hunter abruptly asked after bestowing a few polite pats on the hound. He stood, and Batcher, recognizing the dismissal, trotted back over to Omega.
Somehow, this was a question that prodded Crosshair into speech. “The Empire has tracking devices installed that can’t be disabled without specialized equipment. It wouldn’t be wise to stay here. The Empire will be coming.”
“No need to stick around here,” Wrecker agreed; but Hunter’s full attention remained on Crosshair, who found himself swallowing uncomfortably.
“Anything you need from that ship?” Hunter finally asked.
“Batcher’s taken care of it,” Omega said promptly, stooping to pick up something from the ground; and Crosshair looked down to see that Batcher must have been carrying the pack of credits when she exited the ship and dropped it upon confronting Hunter and Wrecker.
Okay, maybe the hound was pretty smart.
“Are those… credits?” Wrecker asked in disbelief.
“Yep,” Omega said, straightening with the pack in her arms.
“Do we want to know how you got those?” Hunter asked her in a teasing tone as he gave her a small smile.
“You might not, but Wrecker will,” she laughed.
Seeing that Omega was now turning back toward the cargo ship, likely for the blasters, Crosshair spoke up again. “We don’t need anything else,” he said decisively. He got the distinct feeling his brothers, especially Hunter, wouldn’t be too happy to see him with weapons; and anyway, he’d need those blasters if – no, when? – he struck out on his own with that cargo ship.
Omega, unaware of all the considerations swirling through Crosshair’s mind, simply shrugged; and, glancing at him with another uplifted, expectant look, she clicked her tongue at Batcher and started toward the Marauder with Wrecker. Hunter waited until Omega and the hound had entered the ship before starting toward the ramp behind Wrecker.
Crosshair remained rooted to the spot, staring at the glimpse he had through the entryway of the ship’s familiar interior, unsure what to do. He knew Omega not only wanted him to come with her, but expected him to. She could say all she wanted that he deserved the credit for their escape, but she and he both knew that Crosshair would never have made it out of his cell, much less off Tantiss, without her.
He owed her. If she wanted him to come with them, he should.
But…
She was so close with Hunter and Wrecker – as close to them as he used to be, maybe even closer – and they were so good to her. She had lived for years without him. She wouldn’t miss him if he didn’t stick around.
And he couldn’t keep facing them. He couldn’t live hour after hour among brothers he had turned his back on, on a ship that did nothing but remind him of the brother he would never see again, with the excruciating memories of his imprisonment and torture, all when it was abundantly clear Hunter and Wrecker didn’t really want him around…
Suddenly he felt eyes on him, and he shifted his gaze to see Hunter and Wrecker both standing on the ramp, looking back at him with unreadable expressions on their faces.
“Well, you coming?” Wrecker asked gruffly. Anyone else might have misinterpreted his tone as him issuing a challenge; but while there was still the slightest trace of lingering suspicion, there was also a distinct note of hope.
Crosshair dared to look at Hunter, whose closed expression softened into something bordering on resignation as he held Crosshair’s gaze while nodding toward the Marauder.
And Crosshair made up his mind.
Finding the lump in his throat was finally starting to ease, he walked toward the Marauder.
********
It took every ounce of self-control for Hunter to directly follow Wrecker into the Marauder and allow Crosshair to be at his back, rather than bring up the rear himself. Hunter may have just tacitly supported Wrecker in inviting Crosshair to rejoin them; but after what had gone down the last time they had all been together, he still wasn’t sure if he trusted Crosshair to be around them at all, much less be out of Hunter’s direct line of sight, his own enhanced senses notwithstanding.
Hunter had spent his entire life trying to earn and retain his squad’s confidence and unshakeable trust in him as their leader, and completely trusting them in return – and for so long, it had worked. Not only had they survived the brutal training and constant threat of decommissioning on Kamino, not only had they withstood the derision, animosity, and often violent competition with the “regular” cadets and then troopers, they had also earned their reputation as an elite special forces squad with a 100% mission success rate even as they were assigned the most challenging operations. Oh, there had been frequent debates amongst his squad-mates and lots of complaining – mostly from Crosshair – but whenever it came down to it, they survived the impossible because they fully, completely, unquestioningly understood and trusted each other, that each would do their part and have the others’ backs, because they were not only a team, they were brothers.
After the war ended, Hunter had thought he understood why Crosshair was at odds with the squad – Wrecker’s experience with a functional inhibitor chip had all too clearly illustrated the power of that particular bit of programming – and while Hunter knew he had to keep the rest of his squad safe, it had eaten away at him that he could think of no plausible way to get Crosshair out of Imperial clutches long enough to remove the chip and snap Crosshair out of… whatever was going on with him. And then – then Crosshair had said his chip was already gone; and for all Hunter could tell, it was; and Crosshair, obviously hurt and bitter, had accused them of disloyalty and kept behaving erratically and ultimately refused to rejoin them.
Months of believing, wishing, hoping that perhaps Crosshair’s untrustworthiness was a result of something outside his control, only for Crosshair himself to insist it wasn’t. And Hunter couldn’t help but feel at least partly to blame – if Crosshair had never been left behind, if they had just found some way to subdue him in the hangar on Kamino, maybe he would never have felt the need to find reasons to stay with the Empire.
Hunter had felt completely shattered. But he couldn’t show it. He was still the leader, and had to do what was best for the entire team – including Crosshair. And so Hunter had saved Crosshair and then let him go when he insisted on staying behind. And so Hunter had tried to keep the rest of the squad safe and off the Imperial radar.
Upon discovering Crosshair was a prisoner, previous experience had made Hunter question whether it was all an elaborate scheme to draw the squad into a trap. Then again, Crosshair had sent a message warning the squad to stay away. Crosshair may have previously shown all too clearly that he knew the squad’s playbook and how to manipulate it, but Hunter knew his brother – at least, he used to, or he thought he used to, once. Crosshair wouldn’t pull a double bluff like that. Right?
The fact that he, Hunter, could no longer be certain of his brother’s motivations and intentions, that he had to analyze all the possibilities the way he would analyze an enemy – even though he himself had told Crosshair that choosing different paths didn’t make them enemies – had left Hunter feeling uptight and ill at ease. But in the end, common sense and doing the right thing had won out: all indications were that Crosshair was being held prisoner, and they were going to rescue him.
And then Eriadu had happened…
Right now, Hunter supposed he should be relieved to find that Crosshair had indeed turned on the Empire, but he wasn’t. Actually, this fact made him even more wary of his brother. Crosshair had turned on the squad and attacked them multiple times for the sake of the Empire; and now, he had turned on the very entity to which he had been so professedly loyal. If something could set Crosshair off to betray the Empire, what guarantee did the squad have that he wouldn’t get upset and betray them yet again? Hunter had grown up with, lived with, and fought alongside – and sometimes with – Crosshair his entire life, and for so many years he had thought he knew and understood his brother, even when they had differences of opinion; but now, Hunter realized he apparently didn’t know Crosshair at all.
He wanted to trust Crosshair, but he couldn’t. Not until Crosshair had explained what had happened and backed up his explanation with consistent action. After all, how could Hunter trust someone he didn’t know anymore?
All of this weighed on Hunter’s mind as he, in a show of good faith to his estranged brother, forced himself to stay relaxed as he entered the Marauder with Crosshair a few steps behind. After all, distrusting though Hunter may currently be of his former squad-mate, there was no need to be openly antagonistic.
Hunter saw at a glance that Omega, having convinced Batcher to sit on the floor near the racks, was now standing with Wrecker near the gunner’s mount that had been converted into her own room so long ago. She bestowed a quick smile on Hunter, but just as quickly looked beyond him and visibly brightened even further upon seeing Crosshair enter the ship. Hunter stepped toward the flight deck to give Crosshair space to get his bearings, but he still watched Crosshair closely with the intention of interrogating him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He resolved to tread as lightly as possible with Crosshair to avoid heated arguments – Omega didn’t need to deal with that, especially not now when she had just barely escaped imprisonment – but Crosshair still had to answer for himself, and sooner rather than later.
Crosshair was solemnly casting his eyes around the ship, obviously taking note of what had stayed the same and what had changed since he had last journeyed on the Marauder.... Then his eyes fell on an object just outside Hunter’s line of sight, and suddenly he looked like he would be physically ill.
Hunter, shifting ever so slightly to the left to look for himself, realized that Crosshair had seen Tech’s broken goggles. Before Hunter could react, before Wrecker or Omega even noticed, Crosshair had firmly turned his back on the memento and stepped toward the entrance to the flight deck, clenching his right hand tightly into a fist – was his right hand shaking? – and ignoring Hunter’s scrutiny as he stared fixedly at the pilot controls.
So. Crosshair knew what had happened to Tech. Of course he did – Omega wouldn’t have withheld that information from him.
Hunter knew Crosshair wasn’t to blame for Eriadu or Ord Mantell. Indeed, Hunter had even considered the possibility that Hemlock might be holding Omega in the same facility he kept all the other clone prisoners, including Crosshair, and had come to the conclusion that if he and Wrecker could possibly rescue Crosshair along with Omega, they would. But he hadn’t let himself ponder this often. Thinking about Crosshair always led to thinking about Tech and the mission he had died on; and while Hunter had come to terms with Tech’s death – or so he told himself – since he couldn’t do anything to save Tech, there had been no point thinking about either of his lost brothers.
Apparently, Crosshair wanted to avoid thinking about Tech, too.
Hunter abruptly decided that now wasn’t the right time to question his brother. He might not trust Crosshair yet, but there was no need to push him into talking when he clearly wasn’t ready, at all.
Shaking his head slightly, Hunter lightly brushed past Crosshair to take the pilot’s seat. They had to get out of here before the Empire somehow tracked the stolen cargo ship.
“Where are we going, Hunter?” Omega asked curiously, walking toward the flight deck herself and taking one of the back row seats. Batcher lifted her head inquisitively but stayed where she was. Wrecker, for some reason, was rummaging through some old crates Hunter hadn’t paid any mind to for months.
“Pabu,” Hunter replied, smiling at Omega – he couldn’t stop smiling at her, he was so grateful she was alive and back with them. He wished his feelings about Crosshair’s return could be so uncomplicated. “Shep and Lyana will be so happy to see you.”
Omega smiled back, but now Hunter caught the slightest hint of oppression in her overall demeanor, and he wondered worriedly the extent of what she had gone through during the past months of imprisonment.
If she had been through experiences that threatened to dim her innate light, what had Crosshair been through as a prisoner? And what had he done for the Empire to imprison him at all?
“Mox and Deke and Stak will be happy to meet you too,” Wrecker now added jovially as he made his way to the front of the ship to join the others, shoving a handful of toothpicks into a startled Crosshair’s hands before sitting down with a thump in the seat across from Omega.
It was so like Wrecker to try to put Crosshair at ease by acting as exuberant and normal as possible, Hunter mused, his heart softening as it always did at Wrecker’s consistent thoughtfulness. Hunter hadn’t even known they still had toothpicks aboard the Marauder.
“Uh…” Crosshair cleared his throat awkwardly, “thanks, Wrecker.” And, as if belatedly realizing he had actually spoken aloud, Crosshair quickly inserted a toothpick between his teeth and fell silent again.
One thing was for sure: uncertain though Crosshair’s current loyalties and motivations may be, he was as reticent and standoffish as ever. But the Crosshair Hunter had once known had only been closed off around strangers, never around his own family. And yet again, Hunter found himself grappling with the horrible sinking feeling that he truly didn’t know Crosshair anymore – he was practically a stranger.
What had happened to his brother?
Omega looked appraisingly at Crosshair before apparently coming to some unspoken decision and turning back to Wrecker. “Who are you talking about? Who’s Stak and…?”
“Mox and Deke? They’re clone cadets. Or they were,” Wrecker replied.
“We found them while we were looking for you,” Hunter added gently, talking over his shoulder as he guided the Marauder away from the moon’s surface and prepped for the jump to hyperspace.
“Only three of them? Why weren’t they with other cadets?” Omega inquired.
Wrecker hesitated, but Hunter knew there was no point hiding the truth. With the Marauder now in hyperspace and on course for Pabu, Hunter turned in the pilot’s seat to face Omega. “The cadets who were transferred off Kamino were imprisoned in an Imperial lab run by Hemlock.”
“I never saw any cadets on Tantiss,” Omega said in a troubled tone.
Tantiss – that must be the name of Hemlock’s current base. “No, it was a different lab,” Hunter continued. “The Empire destroyed it – and all the prisoners in it. Mox and Deke and Stak were the only ones who escaped.”
“That’s what happened to the cadets who were evacuated from Kamino?” Crosshair abruptly queried.
Hunter was surprised by the look on Crosshair’s face – he appeared almost horrified. “Yes,” Hunter replied levelly. “That’s what the Empire did to the younger clones.”
Omega had sorrowfully dropped her gaze and didn’t notice Crosshair look at her with a disquieted expression; but Hunter noticed, and suddenly realized Crosshair must be recalling that, back on Kamino, he had advised that Omega, too, be evacuated with the other adolescent clones. Maybe Crosshair hadn’t known what the Empire had planned for the clone cadets, but it couldn’t be denied that he hadn’t much cared at the time, either.
With this in mind, Hunter couldn’t help but ask a touch acerbically, “You really didn’t know?”
“I never asked,” was all Crosshair said in reply; and though he was clearly trying to keep his tone level, Hunter could sense his brother’s defensiveness rising, and knew it was time to back off.
Besides, regretful though Crosshair might now appear to be, Hunter was more concerned about his sister’s emotional state at the moment. She didn’t need the added stress of undue friction between her brothers. “The three cadets we found are safe now, Omega,” he said gently. “And you and Crosshair are safe now, too.”
At this statement, Crosshair shot a sharp glance at Hunter; but Omega kept her eyes downcast.
“There are so many prisoners on Tantiss,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know there was another entire base full of prisoners, and that they all…” she stopped short.
Wrecker was worriedly eyeing her. “Well, since you got out, you can help Echo,” he said now. “Echo and Rex have been wanting to find that base and free all those clones for a long time.”
Wrecker had somehow known just the right thing to say, for Omega now looked up with hope dawning on her face even as she reluctantly admitted, “But we don’t have the coordinates for Tantiss, we were there but we still can’t say exactly where it is…”
“No problem, you know how Echo is,” Wrecker said with full confidence, and Omega brightened again.
Crosshair was chewing on his toothpick so hard Hunter was mildly concerned he’d crack a tooth. Hunter got the feeling Crosshair wanted to stay as far away from the subject of Tantiss as possible, even if he himself wasn’t doing the talking; but since the subject had been broached, Hunter decided to follow up on the question he had posed earlier. “Omega,” Hunter said slowly, “what happened? How exactly did you escape?”
A shadow seemed to cross her face, but before Hunter could hurriedly add that she didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to, Omega took a fortifying breath and sat back in her chair to look directly at him and Wrecker as she briefly recounted her experience on Tantiss; the little she knew of the experiments that had been conducted on the other prisoners, including Crosshair; Nala Se’s dire warning; the daring escape and Crosshair’s significant role in ensuring their success; and subsequent events on Lau.
As she talked, it seemed as if an unseen weight was ever so slightly being lifted from her shoulders; but the weight instead seemed to be settling on Crosshair, who stood as still as stone against the threshold, not even chewing his toothpick anymore, staring at the floor with a dead expression in his eyes.
His right hand started shaking uncontrollably, and Crosshair moved just enough to tightly cross his arms, hiding his hands, before resuming his motionless posture.
And Hunter, discreetly taking note of all this with no small amount of concern for his brother, knew it would be a long, long time before Crosshair would be able to discuss his own experience on Tantiss, much less what had happened to land him there in the first place.
“Of course you won those credits while gambling,” Wrecker chuckled, successfully lightening the mood after such a somber discussion.
Taking the opportunity to follow up on Wrecker’s efforts, Hunter deadpanned, “You’re right, I didn’t want to know,” earning a wan grin from Omega. “But that’s more than enough talk for now,” Hunter continued. “It’s high time you got washed up and got some rest. It’ll be a while before we get to Pabu.”
Omega nodded before peering up at Crosshair. “You can use the refresher first, Crosshair,” she offered genially.
The other shook his head. “I’m fine,” he replied a trifle shortly, though in a much softer tone than Hunter had yet heard him use. “You’re the one who looks like you’ve rolled down a muddy hill.”
“That’s because I did,” she retorted saucily.
Hunter and Wrecker exchanged glances, but said nothing as Crosshair concluded in the same gentle tone, “Which is why you should go first. I’m just fine where I am.”
“You’ve been standing there for half an hour, Crosshair,” Wrecker suddenly put in, obviously still trying to find ways to make the other feel comfortable. “At least get some rest on your rack.”
Crosshair, now looking rather like an irling caught in a light array, glanced at Hunter as if for permission to move, but Hunter simply turned back to the controls, leaving Wrecker to guide their brother back to the racks while Omega took over the refresher.
Left alone on the flight deck, Hunter permitted himself a small, weary sigh.
He loved Crosshair so much, he had missed him so much and for so long – SO much more than he had ever let himself admit... which was what made this naggingly persistent distrust and uncertainty almost unbearable.
Tech had pushed for a rescue mission mainly because it was the right thing to do; but he had also been convinced that Crosshair had changed for the better, that the chances were high that Crosshair would even rejoin the squad if he were rescued. Tech – confident, brilliant, forthright Tech – had staked his life on the idea that Crosshair had changed enough to accept the squad’s help this time around. Hunter hadn’t been so sure, even as he had readily let himself be convinced to embark on a mission to save their lost brother. Now, even after hearing Omega’s recounting of the escape, Hunter still wasn’t sure it was a good idea to put any faith in Crosshair. Hunter believed Omega and her account of events, of course, but he also knew quite well that she could be rather too trusting, too optimistic.
But… Omega had held Crosshair’s hand, she had vouched for him, and she clearly felt completely at ease around him. More than that, Crosshair had let Omega hold his hand – Crosshair, who might have saved the kid from drowning on Kamino but otherwise had been dismissive and demeaning toward her every other chance he got, had just recently clung to Omega’s hand in return as if it were a lifeline, and had followed her every unspoken cue to rejoin the team and try to make peace.
Crosshair had changed. Less clear was how he had changed.
Hunter didn’t trust Crosshair. His prodigal brother would need to do a lot more to prove he had truly changed for the better and that he wouldn’t betray the family again. Much as he still cared for Crosshair, Hunter would not risk any other member of the family.
But for now, at least – for the sake of Tech's memory, for Omega, for Wrecker, and maybe… maybe even for himself – Hunter would give Crosshair a chance.