Guarded (#2 Post-Order 66 Series)

Guarded - Part 19

Crosshair winced as Echo carefully pressed on his side. A massive bruise was radiating across his ribcage, and he snarled as Echo's fingers once again seemed to find the most painful place to apply pressure. Echo ignored his animosity, furrowing his brow as he focused on his brother's side. "I don't think you've done more than maybe crack a few ribs. You're lucky."

"Where's that magical little droid your friend has with her?"

Echo glared at him. "D-4 is tending to more injured parties right now. You'll have to wait your turn, but I'm sure he'll tell you the same thing."

Crosshair rolled his eyes as he pulled the top half of his blacks back over his shoulders gingerly. He was covered in scratches and bruises, but knew overall, he was fortunate. Some of Gadge's men had been ambushed by a group of reinforcements when the troops from New Centrif had arrived, and at least one of them had been killed with a few more barely hanging on. I imagine that's where that med droid's buzzed off to. He was sitting on a bench just inside the city gates where a large group of the injured had assembled to be evaluated. Echo was moving among them, assessing sprains and bandaging wounds where he could. Crosshair pulled his chestplate back on, swearing under his breath as he twisted to fiddle with the buckles and clasps.

Once he'd gotten his armor pulled back on, he leaned back against the wall behind him, breathing heavily from the strain. Only cracked. Don't be such a child. He took a few deep steadying breaths before allowing his eyes to scan the area around him.

Moenia was certainly not a city built with defense in mind. The outer wall didn't even encircle the entire city, serving more as symmetry for the decorative front gate that was barely hanging above the ruined tank. The buildings were architectural wonders with stunning views of the surrounding cliffs and forests. Gardens and greenery were tastefully peppered throughout the city with plenty of gathering places for the artists and great minds of Naboo to commune. Crosshair rolled his eyes at all of it. He'd been frustrated trying to find a vantage point for when the second Imperial wave had arrived, having to settle for the roof of one of the administrative buildings near the main road.

They had easily managed to hold the city, having several hours of time to prepare for the second wave since Hunter and Typho had relayed what number of troops and types of weaponry were on the way. It had taken a little longer than the original attack, but they'd eventually managed to take out the walkers and troop transports, capturing a few Imperials in the process. There had been debate about what to do with the prisoners, but ultimately, they'd opted to let them go after stripping them of their armor and weapons. Crosshair had watched as the troopers had trudged off back towards New Centrif, a toothpick tightly clenched between his teeth.

Iden had ordered it, and he could understand her reasoning, but he still felt it was a mistake.

"You know they're just going to go get new armor and weapons and come back," he had said quietly as they stood next to one another, watching the figures recede into the distance.

"Let them come. We'll push them back again."

"You're being naive."

"Perhaps. But I have a code I follow, and that dictates I don't execute people that surrendered willingly. I will not be like them."

Crosshair had to turn away to hide the wave of nausea that overtook him. Gerrera's people. The civilians. I ordered their executions. Their murders. The screams haunted him at night sometimes, causing him to wrench the covers off of himself as his chest heaved. He knew it hadn't been his decision, not really, but it had been his finger that pulled the trigger, his voice that had given the order. He wasn't sure how much Iden knew about his past, but he wasn't about to let her see him like this, to know what a monster he was. He had stalked off without another word.