Call It Freedom

Chapter 2 - If I Was a Fool

Author's Note: Thoughts anyone? xP

~ Amina Gila

His brothers don't push him at all during the rest of their trip, but Hunter can acutely feel all their eyes on him at different intervals, assessing, wondering. He doesn't look at them, though, pointedly focusing on the vibroblade he's continuing to spin as though it's the most fascinating thing in the galaxy.

And while he spins it, he ponders and plans, and ponders some more. Maybe it's selfish, but the one thing he cares about most is finding a way to make sure his squad is safe. He doesn't care much about the rest of the galaxy, about the Republic or the Empire or any of it really. He cares a little about the people that will be hurt, but... well, there's nothing he can do about them. There are only hours left before the galaxy spirals into chaos, and his first instinct will always be to watch over his family.

He cares a little about the regs, too, of course, if only because he knows what their fates will be, and he imagines that Echo will probably want to leave to help them for a time, but... he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. First, his squad.

Tech and Echo go to the cockpit once they approach, and the Marauder vibrates beneath him with a jerk as it comes out of hyperspace. Gracefully, he slips the vibroblade back in its sheath and looks up, bracing himself for the coming battle. This, he can do. Sure, it's been a while, almost a year, since he's led an official mission on the battlefield, but it's all instinct. Muscle memory. Missions for Cid weren't a whole lot different. He can do this – so long as he doesn't lose track of who they do, and don't, have.

He meets Crosshair's eyes, but his vod'ika doesn't say anything, merely moving the toothpick in his mouth, his gaze calm and assessing, thoughtful. Probably not a good combination, but Hunter doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about whatever Crosshair is reading right now. He needs to talk to Tech, a task which will promise to test his endurance. But he'll pull through. For his brothers. For Omega.

"You uh – you feelin' better?" Wrecker asks, coming to stand next to Hunter as Tech begins the downward approach to the rendezvous coordinates. Probably, his voice was supposed to be quiet, but it's not, not really, and Hunter is keenly aware that everyone else is hanging on their every word.

"Marginally," he admits, and then realizes that it's the truth. He feels a little more settled, at least, less rattled. Maybe it's finally sinking in that he's in the past, that he has another chance. Maybe the familiar scents and heartbeats of his brothers are soothing him in a deep, fundamental way. Omega's absence is an ache, but it won't be long before they'll be reunited. At least she's safe – relatively – on Kamino. She isn't being tortured there or held prisoner.

Wrecker pats his shoulder. "Good," he replies, "I was worried 'bout ya." Hunter is unreasonably touched by that, and he swallows, nodding.

He waits to say anything until after Tech lands and the others go to collect their gear and helmets. "Tech," he says, forcing his voice to stay level, to not tremble. Tech died. He died on a mission that was far too risky to have gone on in the first place, but Force, he'd wanted to get Crosshair back so badly, that he had let it go with only a token protest. "I have a question."

Tech's brown eyes meet his, curious. "What is it?"

"Are you able to... cut us off from all comm channels except our private ones, including the emergency channels?" It's the only thing he can think of. He doesn't know when, exactly, they began to lose Crosshair, but it makes sense for it to have been when Order 66 was given out. If he doesn't hear that order, maybe – maybe they won't lose him like before. But at least this time, they can get his inhibitor chip out before things get that far. ... Hopefully.