Call It Freedom

Chapter 20 - That Heaven Couldn't Shake

Author's Note: Ryloth! ^-^ Thoughts anyone? :)

I'd appreciate it if you checked out Out of Time, where the Batch post-S2 end up scattered across the galaxy back during the CW. :D

~ Amina Gila

Hunter wakes up to pinpricks of pain dancing through his skull, his head resting on the cool durasteel of a floor. It takes him a moment to remember what happened, and the moment it floods back to him, he sits upright with a jolt. Tech... stunned him.

"What?" he splutters, reaching up to gingerly touch his head. "What did you do to me? Why did you do that?"

Tech looks up from his datapad. "You're awake," he states, as if it wasn't already obvious. "How do you feel?"

"Very annoyed," he deadpans.

"Other than that?" asks his brother, unfazed. Tech might be irrational, but he's still very intelligent, and he never does anything without reason. Hunter really wants to scold him for whatever brought about this latest act, but first, he'll have to go along with Tech and answer his questions, or he'll never figure out anything.

He takes a moment to think about it, to take stock of himself and their situation, suddenly remembering the transmission that Tech buried so the Empire wouldn't know of the incoming clone forces who are undoubtedly planning to rescue the Syndullas, much like how the Bad Batch did last time. A tangle of emotions twists in his gut when he remembers the moment, looking out of the shuttle to see Crosshair on the ground staring up at them, wondering if he'd make the wrong choices, if he'd turned into a coward for fleeing and leaving Crosshair behind instead of trying to get through to him like Howzer did his own squad.

When he'd seen Crosshair next, he'd tried to follow that example, tried to make him see how the Empire was wrong. It hadn't really worked, but he had tried. That had to count for something, right?

And beyond that, one single thought settles into his mind. "We need to get out."

Tech gives him a half-smile. "And you're back," he says with far too much cheer, picking up a device that was lying on a crate behind him. "I designed a device which should, theoretically, turn down the intensity of our inhibitor chips. It appears to have been affective on you." He pauses, studying Hunter carefully, before gently adding, "I imagine you need time to process everything that has happened over the past few weeks."

He swallows, looking down, breathing out shakily, as reality crashes into him. Oh Force. What – he – the things he's done...

It's not that he regrets them – he could never really care about putting down squadrons of droids, or even the occasional insurgent group, most of whom were pretty bad people anyway – but it's – he doesn't regret those things. He's just angry that he did them for the Empire, that he did anything for them at all. And more than that, he – he doesn't know if it was really him or not, that whole time. His awareness of the chip's influence was gradual, and only because he knew how it affected them from Wrecker in the future-past, and because he saw how Crosshair and Wrecker were both acting.

If not for that, he would never have known. He might never have realized, and he's the one of them who is always supposed to be level-headed. Rational. He's their leader, and if he can't be trusted to lead them on the right path, what does that mean?

He killed Gerrera, had Crosshair kill him, rather, and he doesn't regret it. He can find no remorse whatsoever – only a grim satisfaction, though it does nothing to ease the ache of Tech's loss. Being with his brothers has helped him a lot, he thinks, but he – his – it'll take him time to heal from the things he faced in the once future.