Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hunter flipped his knife into the air just as the emergency comm channel began to blare. He jumped in his seat and narrowly avoided missing—and being cut by—the blade as it fell back into his grasp. Every head turned towards the cockpit, though some snapped more quickly than others. Wrecker was noticeably groggy as he groaned in dismay.

“C’mon!” Wrecker exclaimed, heaving a breath as he did so. “I was havin’ the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks! ”

Hunter had already started towards the cockpit, and he knew Tech wouldn’t be far behind.

“Complaining about new action?” Crosshair huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I can’t face new action without any sleep ,” Wrecker insisted.

Hunter tuned them out as he reached the Marauder ’s controls. He sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and pressed the button, watching as a blue image flickered to life. Hunter’s brow shot up as a Togrutan silhouette formed more fully.

“General?” Hunter managed the title even amidst his own surprise. He didn’t need Tech to tell him that General Shaak Ti being on the other end of the emergency comm was highly unusual, though he could practically feel the thought simmering in Tech’s brain from the pilot’s chair beside him.

“ Sergeant .” General Ti was as calm as ever, bowing her head in greeting before going on. “ I understand your squad is currently en route back to Kamino? ”

“That is correct,” Tech answered for his brother. He adjusted his goggles before letting his fingers fly over the controls. “We are approximately a single rotation and three additional standard hours away, given how distant our point of origin was.”

“ Is there any chance your squad is near the Relgim sector? ” General Ti’s expression morphed into something Hunter had never seen in the general before: desperation. “ We’ve just received a dire call for help, but the settlement is too remote for anyone else to get there in time. I saw your squad’s current route and hoped it wasn’t too late .”

Tech had already begun to analyze where in hyperspace they were the moment General Ti had requested it. Hunter fought back the exhaustion creeping into the corners of his mind as he pressed for more information. “Where would we be headed, General?”

General Ti still looked troubled as she responded. “ Aq Vetina .”

“In that case…” Tech paused, reaching for the hyperspace lever and pulling it back.

Hunter gripped the nearest support he could find as the Marauder shuddered out of hyperspace. Something fell behind them, and Wrecker grunted as Crosshair cursed loudly. Hunter chuckled, shaking his head—and knowing full well any other squad leader would have been mortified to have such a thing happen in front of a Jedi general.

“Your timing could not have been more optimal, General.” Tech spoke to General Ti while he focused on piloting the Marauder towards a distant world. “We are currently in the Relgim sector, and we are now on approach to Aq Vetina.”

General Ti let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly lightening as she did so. “ Thank the Force. ” She focused on Hunter as she went on. “ Your orders are to engage only if the Separatist forces can be handled by your squad alone. If not… then we must consider this a loss .” Hunter didn’t need to be a Force-sensitive Jedi to sense her devastation at the mere thought of such an outcome. “ But I know that if any squad can take on such forces without backup, it’s yours, Sergeant. ”

“That’s right!” Wrecker was suddenly behind Hunter, his voice much brighter than before. He grinned at the Togruta Jedi and waved. “Hey, General!”

General Ti returned his smile. “ Wrecker, it’s good to see you .” Each word was genuine, spreading a comforting warmth through Hunter’s chest. Of everyone on Kamino, she had no doubt been the kindest to Hunter and his squad growing up, and for that he was forever indebted to her. “ I’m afraid I don’t have much time to catch up, though, and neither do you. Sergeant, if you wouldn’t mind contacting me on this frequency when you have an update on the situation? ”

Hunter nodded. “Of course, General.”

General Ti returned his nod. “ Thank you, Sergeant. Your squad is this settlement’s only hope. Do not engage in a battle you know you cannot win, but keep this in mind as you prepare for what’s ahead. ”

Those were the words she left them with. Her blue image faded, and for a few moments, all Hunter could hear—even with his enhanced senses—was the soft hum of space around them.

Hunter nearly winced when Wrecker raised his voice again from just behind them. “A surprise mission? Oh, yeah!” He punched the air. “I take back what I said before. This was totally worth missin’ out on some sleep.”

“What’s going on?” Hunter spun in his chair as Echo approached. He’d been surprised that Echo hadn’t joined him and Tech inside the cockpit for the comm, but given the way the ARC trooper was stretching his neck and suppressing a yawn, he had been in the middle of a deep, and clearly much-needed, sleep. “Was that General Ti?”

Hunter nodded. “It was.” He rose from his chair and clapped his hand on Echo’s shoulder. “Gear up. We have another mission.”

Echo’s eyes doubled in size. “ What? ” He shook his head. “That can’t be right. I thought we were headed back—?”

“There’s a remote settlement we’re passing by that needs help.” Hunter set his jaw, conveying an uncharacteristic amount of severity. “The general said we’re their only chance.”

Echo immediately straightened. Hunter began to smile in satisfaction. “What are we up against?”

Hunter kept his smile even as he gently brushed past Echo to head further into the ship. “Don’t know. We have to get a closer look.” He turned his head just enough to raise his voice over his shoulder. “Tech, let me know as soon as you have a visual. As for the rest of you…” Hunter looked pointedly at Crosshair, who had been watching everything unfold from the chair he was lounging in. “Get ready for a fight.”

Wrecker cheered in the background as Crosshair raised the corner of his mouth in a much more subtle form of celebration. Hunter could see the exhaustion looming within the depths of his brother’s eyes, and the darkening of the circles that hung underneath them, but that exhaustion was overpowered by their genuine love for what they did best: battle.

Hunter himself felt all of it—the exhaustion, the excitement, the addicting rush of adrenaline that shot through every single vein and nerve in his body. This time, however, he also felt something that he didn’t always experience, at least not to this degree. It was the same thing that had been written all over General Ti’s face.

He wanted to help these people, and he felt responsible for their safety.

But Hunter also felt responsible for his own squad, just as he always had. The weight of their flawless success rate got heavier with each new mission, though the success rate paled in comparison to the safety of his brothers. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any one of them for a mission, not even one like this.

As hard as that truth would always be to swallow.

Hunter shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind just like always and focused on gearing up, paying extra attention to the way his armor snapped into place. He spared a look around and saw that Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo had made just as much progress as himself, with Tech well on his way after he had put the ship on autopilot for the time being.

Hunter wasn’t looking forward to a reality where this rush and preparation for battle wasn’t necessary. Based on what General Ti had told them, it was very likely that they could be forced to bail after seeing what they were up against.

The last thing Hunter reached for was his helmet before he strided back towards the cockpit. He could see Aq Vetina on approach through the viewport, a small world that didn’t get much bigger even as the ship got closer.

“ Force .” Echo’s voice was a mere breath behind Hunter, but the sergeant wasn’t surprised by his close presence. He had sensed Echo’s whereabouts long before he had spoken. “That’s a small planet.” He exhaled, his voice dropping lower. “No wonder why they need help so badly.”

“Let’s just hope we can provide it.” Hunter turned towards Tech as he joined them. Tech returned to the pilot’s chair and Hunter stood behind him, letting Echo take the co-pilot’s seat. “Tech, how’s it looking from here?”

“I’ll have a better idea once I’ve navigated us closer.” Tech gently pushed the Marauder ’s steering wheel ahead, allowing the Omicron-class shuttle to move forward through the stars. 

Hunter could sense the shadows of Wrecker and Crosshair behind him, no doubt just as curious about what awaited them. Despite the fact they were all—at least, almost all—just sleeping peacefully a few minutes ago, they were itching for a fight, especially one that sounded so critical.

For once, the squad remained silent as Tech continued to steer the ship forward. The tension was so thick that the sound of the proximity sensor going off made everyone jump.

“I’m clocking… one Separatist ship.” Tech sounded unimpressed as he continued to analyze the incoming data.

They all waited a beat before Wrecker spoke up. “That’s it?”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Is it a command ship?”

“Negative. I assume they have already left the system.” Tech’s voice lowered only slightly as he went on. “The battle may very well be over.”

Echo shook his head. “Not if they’ve left a ship here. They could’ve realized a planet this small only needed one ship’s worth of forces and sent the others to their other targets.” He glanced up at Hunter, his gaze hopeful.

Hunter returned Echo’s look and considered their next steps. Tech and Echo could both be right, and there was only one way to find out.

“It’s worth checking out.” Hunter nodded towards the viewport. “Bring us in, Tech.”

Tech returned Hunter’s nod and obeyed the sergeant’s order. Wrecker chuckled victoriously and must’ve nudged Crosshair’s shoulder, based on the way their brother grunted in dissatisfaction soon after. Echo flashed Hunter an appreciative smile before he focused on assisting Tech with the landing sequence.

Hunter lowered himself into one of the chairs off to Echo’s right side and exhaled a gentle breath through his nose. While spontaneous planning was their usual style, this mission was too delicate to abide by their typical tactics.

Hunter thought through each step carefully and brainstormed every possibility he could come up with in the time it took the Marauder to exchange the view of the stars for the grayish-blue of Aq Vetina’s atmosphere. His heart tightened uncomfortably when he caught plumes of smoke on the horizon.

Tech started his warning. “Hunter…”

“Don’t bring us too close.” Hunter was back on his feet, setting a hand on the backs of both Tech’s and Echo’s chairs as he surveyed the situation for himself. “Keep us a few klicks away. We’ll do a loose recon before we decide if we’re engaging.”

Wrecker groaned in disappointment. “So we still don’t know if we’re gonna fight?”

Crosshair hummed. “No use in trying to save their skins if there aren’t any skins left to save.”

Echo spun around in his chair to fix Crosshair with a pointed look, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Hunter didn’t have to look back at Crosshair to know he was unaffected. Echo still hadn’t gotten used to Crosshair’s severe nature, but he would have to understand that Crosshair meant no harm by it. He was just a realist, one who still cared deeply—even if he refused to show it.

Hunter tightened his grasp on the chairs as Tech brought the Marauder down. Its descent was even smoother than usual, no doubt a result of Tech’s abundance of caution, and it wasn’t long after that Tech powered it down completely. Hunter stepped back to give him and Echo room to stand.

Hunter was already setting his helmet over his head. “Let’s get moving.” He turned and pushed himself through the small gap between Wrecker and Crosshair at the cockpit’s threshold. “The longer we wait, the more lives we put at risk.”

The lack of Hunter’s usual enthusiasm heading into a mission caused the others to follow his order without complaint or hesitation. Hunter led the way off the Marauder before he sped up into a fast jog that helped them disappear quickly into the surrounding wood.

Hunter wove through the trees easily, gently touching the bark as his senses created a reliable trail to the city that had gone up in flames. The crunching of his brothers’ footsteps behind him was reassuring, grounding him to the present even as the leadership part of his mind tried to think far ahead.

It wasn’t long before the first sandstone building came into sight. Its blue, domed roof was charred with black grime, and the sounds of blasterfire and explosions were unmistakable to Hunter’s sensitive ears.

Hunter raised his fist, signaling for the squad to stop as he pressed his palm against the sandstone. He listened more closely for another few heartbeats, letting the sounds of the firefight rattle against his eardrums.

Super battle droids. Not enough to overwhelm his squad, not at all, but certainly enough to level a settlement of this size. They had to act fast to minimize whatever damage they could.

Hunter turned to face his brothers and nodded. “We’re going in.”

Wrecker cheered.

“We’ve got SBDs.” Hunter glanced at both Wrecker and Crosshair. “Crosshair, head up. Wrecker, give him a boost.”

The pair nodded at the sergeant before bounding forward. Wrecker knelt down just enough for Crosshair to lift his foot into his brother’s cupped hands. Crosshair pushed off just as Wrecker threw his arms up, and Crosshair had more than enough air to get onto the roof. Hunter continued as they did so.

“As for the rest of us, Plan 70.” Hunter nodded at Tech. “You’re with me. We’ll head to the east,” he waved two fingers at Wrecker and Echo, “you take the west.”

Echo tightened his grasp on his blaster. “We’re on it.” With that, both he and Wrecker disappeared into the settlement, the ARC trooper guiding the way.

Hunter looked over at Tech and watched his brother tighten his grasp on his blasters. One nod was all it took for them to communicate their next move. Hunter passed Tech to lead the way to the east. They stuck close to the walls of the structures they passed, checking around each corner before moving ahead. The fight was getting closer and closer.

A new wave of adrenaline shot through Hunter’s veins like a rocket. If the stakes weren’t so high for the people they were rescuing, he would even smile at the sensation, but it felt disrespectful. He couldn’t enjoy it when there were civilians caught in the crossfire.

Hunter flinched when the helmet comm suddenly opened up. “ You four might want to speed things up ,” Crosshair warned. Hunter shared a concerned look with Tech, noting the way Tech’s gaze flashed with cautious curiosity. “ Looks like the clankers are about to have this battle won. ”

Wrecker snarled over the comms. “ Not if we can help it! ”

Crosshair sighed. “ That’s exactly what I’m saying, Wrecker .”

Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Focus. Remember what General Ti said. We’re their only chance at survival.”

Like his brothers, he didn’t mind the rush of battle, but this was different. This wasn’t blasting droids on the battlefield. This was rescuing civilians from the destruction of their home.

Hunter held his arm out in front of Tech when he caught sight of a horde of SBDs. He holstered his blaster and drew his blade from his gauntlet instead, keeping it at the ready as his other hand rose back to his helmet.

“Echo, Wrecker, status report.”

Echo answered for them. “ In position. ”

Hunter steadied himself with a breath before nodding to himself. “Move in.”

He didn’t waste another second. Hunter sprinted out from behind the protection of the nearby building and launched himself at the first droid in his path. He flung one arm around the droid’s neck from behind as the other jabbed his knife into the droid’s chest, frying its circuitry. Hunter pushed himself off the droid as it collapsed, leaping into the air and dodging blasterfire as he made a beeline for the next one.

Hunter was so lost in the familiar yet thrilling routine of battle that he paid little attention to the rest of their surroundings. It was only after he tripped over something unexpected that he was forced to stop and glance down at the unpredictable obstacle.

It was a body, clothed in red robes that tragically matched the color of their spilled blood. One quick look around the courtyard they were in proved that it was far from the only one of their people who had fallen.

Hunter blanched, but only for a moment. He couldn’t afford to take any more time. Hunter snapped his helmet up and watched as a droid threw open the doors to a bunker in the ground, taking aim with their weapon soon after.

Someone had to be alive down there. Someone they could save .

Hunter threw his knife before he had even gotten to his feet. The blade sunk into the side of the SBD’s head, causing it to stiffen before it collapsed to the side. Hunter was already running over, not bothering to retrieve his knife just yet as he awaited helping the person, or the people, who had taken refuge in the bunker.

When Hunter skidded to a stop in front of it, he nearly lost the ration that he had eaten just a few standard hours ago. He blinked in disbelief and attempted to catch his mind up with what his eyes were seeing.

It was a child, a boy no older than nine cycles, who was slowly reopening his eyes to look up at Hunter with fear, shock, and hope .

Hunter felt as if the wind had been knocked from him, the same way he always did whenever Wrecker sacked him during their sparring sessions. Still, he couldn’t afford to freeze up like this in the heat of battle, especially not when there was a helpless child staring back at him.

“It’s okay,” Hunter finally said, lifting his gloved hands up for the scared boy to see. “I’m not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help.”

The child blinked, his trembling lips parting as he tried to speak. “W-We?”

Hunter pasted on a small smile. “My squad.” He nodded in further reassurance. “We’ll keep you safe.”

The boy’s shoulders sagged in relief. He looked as if he was about to ask a question, but then thought better of it. Hunter fought to ignore the sudden ache in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder and narrowly dodged a blaster bolt.

“Stay down here for now.” Hunter was gentle with the order. “I’ll protect you from up here, and once the droids are dealt with, we’ll get out of here. Sound good?”

The boy nodded, his small fists clutching the dirt on the bottom of the bunker as he did so. Hunter let out a quiet exhale and spun back to face the battle.

Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet as he tore the blade from the SBD’s head. “Has anyone else come across survivors? I’m protecting one right now.”

It took some time for the others to answer as they focused on blasting the last few droids. “ Negative ,” Tech answered for himself.

Echo was next. “ Same here .”

Wrecker maintained optimism. “ Not yet! ”

It was Crosshair who had to deliver the news that dropped like a stone into Hunter’s stomach. “ I’m not seeing any survivors from up here .”

Hunter’s jaw tightened as he held his position, using the SBD’s body as cover to fire off shots. They had been too late, after all. Hunter couldn’t help wondering how this boy had gotten so lucky.

That’s when he dared a look to the side of the bunker he was closest too. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a charred red slump that was half-hidden by the bunker’s damaged door.

Someone had purposefully protected the boy, and Hunter was willing to bet he knew exactly who they were. Suddenly, the boy’s hesitant attempt at a question made sense. He wanted to know if his parents were still alive.

Hunter closed his eyes behind his visor and gave his helmet a small shake. This was the part of the war he could never truly come to terms with, the part that was so easy to ignore when it was just him, his brothers, and a crowd of clankers. It was the reason why they were fighting this war in the first place.

Hunter reopened his eyes and watched as Wrecker took down the last droid. The settlement went eerily silent, and the blaster smoke made the atmosphere feel even heavier. Hunter sighed and turned back to the boy in the bunker.

There were fresh tear trails on the boy’s dirty cheeks, running from a pair of dark brown eyes that were open so wide Hunter half-feared they would pop right out of the boy’s head. Hunter put all his weapons away and lifted his helmet to show the child his face.

“Alright, we got the last of ‘em.” Hunter knelt down and rested an arm upon his propped-up knee. “Not too bad of a wait, huh?”

The boy sniffled, but Hunter caught the corners of his lips rising in a small smile. Hunter nodded at him in encouragement.

“You did great down here, following my orders.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “You listen better than my squad does.”

The child chuckled. Hunter grinned, even as his heart squeezed tighter.

“My name’s Hunter.” Hunter pressed both hands against his chestplate before he gestured towards the child. “What about you?”

The boy lifted his arm and rubbed his face with the sleeve of his red hooded robe. He hiccuped on a breath as he fought to answer Hunter’s question. “Din, s-sir.” His voice was so quiet that Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for his enhanced senses.

“Nice to meet you, Din. I’m… sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.” And Hunter meant that. His regret was already leaving a resounding ache deep within his bones.

Hunter looked over his shoulder and saw his brothers standing close by. They all had their helmets tucked underneath their arms, their expressions giving away their curiosity. Crosshair had already joined them again.

Hunter’s gaze fell back to the ground that was littered with the bodies of both the droids and the civilians. He circled his jaw and turned back to Din.

“Okay, kid, I have one more order for you.” Hunter tightened his gloved hand into a fist and maintained the best duty voice he could manage. “Think you’re brave enough to handle it?”

Din nodded earnestly, taking one more wipe at his tears. Hunter beamed.

“That’s what I thought.” Hunter tapped the edge of the bunker. “I’m gonna help you up, and we’re gonna take you on our ship to somewhere safe. I need you to keep your eyes closed until I say so. Got it?”

Din nodded again. “That sounds easy, sir.”

Hunter let out a genuine chuckle as he raised his brow. “I knew you’d be up for the challenge.” 

Hunter leaned down into the bunker and extended a hand towards Din. The boy stood to his feet and shuffled his way over. After the two of them interlocked hands, Hunter paused, his stare meeting Din’s.

“Ready to close your eyes?”

Din gave Hunter’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter nodded. “Alright. Close ‘em.”

Din obeyed. Hunter tugged the boy up with ease, gently setting him onto the terrain at his side. Hunter tucked his helmet under his arm and stood to his feet, keeping his grasp on Din’s hand. He looked down at the boy who had his eyes shut tight enough to make the skin on his lids wrinkle.

“The rest of my squad is here, too,” Hunter told him. He spared a look at his brothers, whose expressions had all fallen at the sight of the young child. “I’ll introduce you when it’s time to open your eyes. Okay?”

Din nodded. He hesitated before he decided to say something. “T-Thank you, sirs.”

Wrecker said “Anytime, kid!” right when Crosshair said “Don’t thank us yet.” Crosshair shrugged when he was leveled with a warning glare from all four of them.

Echo’s gaze met Hunter’s before he signed the best he could with his hand. A kid?

Hunter cut his gaze over to the bunker door. Everyone’s eyes followed his. Echo’s jaw tightened as Wrecker’s brow furrowed in devastation. Tech adjusted his goggles uncomfortably, and even Crosshair shifted his weight and looked away from the sight.

Hunter addressed his squad when he spoke again. “We have to get going before they send more down.” He set his helmet over his head and gave Din’s hand a gentle squeeze to get his attention. “I’m gonna carry you so you don’t have to worry about where you’re going. Is that okay?”

Din’s voice was only growing stronger. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter let go of the boy’s hand and reached over his back. He removed his pack and tossed it to Wrecker, who caught it and nodded at the sergeant. Hunter picked Din up and guided him onto his back, helping the boy to wrap his arms around Hunter’s neck.

Only once the boy was settled did Hunter nod at his squad. “Time to go.”

Hunter wasted no more time standing around. He began to jog back the way they had first come, using his senses to recall their path. The crunching of the terrain behind him told him that the squad was matching his pace, barely exhausted by the quick battle.

They were about halfway back to the Marauder when Din broke their silence. “Hunter, sir?”

Hunter flashed him a quick look over his shoulder as he continued ahead. He huffed out a fond breath. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ kid.”

“Okay.” Din’s voice was wobbling a bit. An uneasy knot tied up in Hunter’s stomach. “I was just wondering… when are we gonna go back and help everyone else?”

Hunter nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Only his desire to keep Din from panicking kept him moving. The knot in his stomach rose into his chest, making it difficult to breathe—and suddenly mindful of Din’s extra weight upon his back.

It was like a blaster wound straight to the chest.

“Kid…”

Hunter inhaled a soft breath. Din was no doubt old enough to tell whether Hunter was lying or not. Hunter had already done what he could for Din by keeping him from having to remember the sight of their bodies. He deserved to know the truth; it was better for him to hear it now than later.

“There was no one else for us to save.”

The silence that followed was louder than any other Hunter had ever heard. He wasn’t used to silence, not with senses that picked up on just about everything, but focusing on this one now was utterly painful.

Hunter’s jaw tensed and refused to relax until Din spoke again. “Oh.” Din’s arms tightened around Hunter’s neck. “Okay.”

Din’s tone was one of distant acceptance. It shattered Hunter even more that a child like him had to come to terms with something like this.

Suddenly, he was angry. Angry at the Separatists, at the war, at the galaxy . This was a kind of loss that Hunter, thankfully, never had to experience, but if he was given the choice to face it in this child’s place, he would have.

But then he glanced back at his squadmates, his brothers , and Hunter selfishly thanked the Force that he never had to know what this kind of loss was like.

The sight of the Marauder was relieving, but not relieving enough to dispel all the darkness and tension from Hunter. He could sense the same weight upon the shoulders of his brothers behind him as they reentered the ship. It was obvious in the way Tech quietly dismissed himself to the cockpit for takeoff while the rest of them began to set down their gear, each one careful to make less noise than necessary.

Hunter helped Din’s feet get back to the floor. He lifted his helmet and set it aside, kneeling in front of the boy whose eyes were still closed diligently. Hunter softened.

“Okay, kid. You can open your eyes now.”

Din obeyed. He blinked a few times as he glanced around the space, his jaw falling open in wonder. Hunter chuckled to himself as Din’s hands clutched into small fists at his sides. “A spaceship ?”

“Technically, this is a shuttle,” Tech corrected him from the cockpit. Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes fondly. “An Omicron-class attack shuttle, to be precise.”

Din just let out an impressed, exaggerated exhale. “ Whoa .”

The boy’s attention then fell on the squadmates who were huddled behind Hunter. The sergeant spun around to take a look at them himself.

Echo’s arms were at his sides, his brow pinched in distress. Wrecker had a warm smile on his face. Crosshair’s arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful and considering. Tech was still in the cockpit.

Hunter looked back at Din, whose chin tucked closer to his chest as the boy shyly addressed the room. “Are you Mandalorians?”

Immediately, Wrecker burst out into fond laughter. Echo gave him a light shove, despite the smile that started to tug at his own lips. Even Crosshair was wearing an amused smirk. Hunter chuckled to himself.

That hearty rumbling quickly disappeared from Hunter’s chest the moment he heard Din’s heartbeat quicken. He turned to see the boy’s gaze cast downward, his face reddened underneath the grime that coated his tan skin. Din started to shrink in on himself, clearly embarrassed by whatever error he had made.

Wrecker stepped forward before Hunter himself could act to remedy the situation. He knelt down to Din’s level and offered him a smile. “You’re right about us bein’ soldiers, kiddo, but not Mandalorians. We’re clones.”

Hunter heard Din’s racing heartbeat slow back down at Wrecker’s warmth as the boy’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Then why don’t you look like each other?”

Wrecker looked over at Hunter, who shrugged at his brother in amusement. “Fair point,” Hunter murmured. Wrecker turned back to Din.

“We’re clones, but…we’re different.” Wrecker jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Wanna meet us all?”

Din nodded earnestly. Hunter smiled again. He was trying to assess Din for any signs of shock, but clearly, Wrecker’s distractions were working for the time being. Tech could make a proper assessment once he was done piloting them into hyperspace.

Wrecker pointed to himself. “I’m Wrecker, and I like to blow things up!”

The delivery of the fun fact was enough to make Din laugh. Hunter’s chest warmed for the first time since he had rescued the boy.

Wrecker turned to face Echo and Crosshair. Echo took the glance as an invitation to step forward, kneeling down at Wrecker’s side. “I’m Echo.” He rested his left arm against his knee and managed a smile, though Hunter could clearly see the sadness set deep within his gaze. “It’s an honor to meet someone as brave as you.”

Din smiled at Echo’s praise. The warmth in Hunter’s chest blazed into a steady flame.

The boy’s smile faded when he looked down and caught sight of Echo’s scomp link and cybernetic legs. His expression was marred by worry. “Echo, sir, can I ask you a question?”

Getting rid of formalities was no doubt an adjustment for Din, one Hunter was more than willing to excuse. Echo held Din’s gaze and nodded confidently, allowing the boy to go on.

“What happened to your arm and legs?” Din cradled his own hands close to his chest. “Are you okay?”

Echo chuckled, the sound full of genuine warmth as he nodded again. “Yeah, kid, I’m alright.” Echo set his hand on Din’s shoulder. The boy relaxed underneath the soldier’s touch. “Something bad happened to me, but…” Echo paused, his gaze searching before he focused on Din again, “these guys found me and helped me learn how to make the most of it.”

Din brightened at that. His shoulders lifted, and his chest puffed up in hope. “Does that mean they’ll do the same for me, too?”

Hunter was about to answer in the affirmative from the boy’s side, but Echo beat him to the punch. “No doubt about it.” Echo gave Din’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “And so will I.”

Din’s smile remained, though his gaze shifted from Echo to something beyond him. The light of curiosity flickered in his gaze again, something to match the quicker rush of air Hunter heard in the boy’s lungs. Din’s voice was almost a whisper as he spoke.

“What’s his name?”

Wrecker and Echo both turned their heads to look at Crosshair, who was standing just behind them. Wrecker huffed and faced Din, gesturing with his head back towards their youngest brother. “That’s Crosshair.”

Din blinked a few times at the sniper, who had already tasked himself with balancing a new toothpick between his lips. Hunter watched as the boy studied his brother before he spoke up again.

“Do you like to shoot things, Crosshair?”

Crosshair’s arms stayed crossed over his chest even as his armored shoulders lifted with his amused exhale. “I do.” His brow shot up. “Looking to be a new target?”

Hunter narrowed his eyes and prepared a proper disciplinary speech for Crosshair, but Din’s laugh split right through his thoughts. “You’re funny!”

The corner of Crosshair’s mouth rose at that. Hunter’s tightened jaw relaxed. The kid could not only understand, but also appreciate Crosshair’s crude humor. He was already fitting in around here.

Not that he would be staying for long. The weight of reporting back to General Ti sat heavy upon Hunter’s shoulders, as he already knew what would result from telling her about their sole survivor. They would be redirected to Coruscant, where they would drop off Din at one of the refugee organizations—likely one created just for orphans.

What Hunter couldn’t fully understand was why that was an order he had no desire to comply with. Though, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to comply with an order. He and his squad had been that way ever since he could remember.

Still, this was different, and one look at the brothers around him confirmed it. Everyone was glowing at this child, who had just been through the unimaginable, but was still displaying an admirable amount of strength and curiosity.

Finally, Tech stepped out of the cockpit, his voice breaking through the squad’s brief silence in the hold. “We are en route to Kamino once again,” Tech informed them, though he looked pointedly at Hunter. “Although I do expect to be rerouted to Coruscant once you have briefed General Ti on our… findings.” Tech adjusted his goggles as he stared at Din.

The boy pointed at Tech’s eyes. “I like your goggles, sir.”

Tech lit up and knelt down eagerly in the space between Echo and Hunter. “These goggles were designed to enhance my less-than-average eyesight,” he explained to Din. “As something had to give in order for the Kaminoans to enhance my genetics and carefully craft my exceptional mind.”

Din’s brow scrunched up. “Enhance your genetics?”

“That is correct.” Tech gestured with his head to the squad around him. “It is why our physical appearances vary, despite the fact we are all made from the same genetic template.”

Din looked at Hunter for guidance, and the sergeant nodded at him. “We’re named for our enhancements.” Hunter tapped his own chestplate. “I’m good at tracking and sensing things. Wrecker’s good at… well, wrecking things. Crosshair’s the best sharpshooter you’ll ever meet. And like Tech here said, he’s got an incredible mind.”

Din looked almost worriedly at Echo. “What about Echo?”

Echo offered the boy a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t originally a part of this squad. I got my name a long time ago, when I was still with my batchmates.”

Din tilted his head. “Batchmates?”

Hunter read Echo carefully as the ARC trooper cleared his throat and went on. “My brothers. The clones I was born with and trained with until I started to fight for the Republic.” Echo’s gaze lightened as he went on. “My brothers called me ‘Echo’ because I used to repeat all our orders.”

Din nodded in understanding. He looked around the group as a smile spread across his lips. “I like all your names.”

Tech lifted a finger. “Technically, they are nicknames. We were not given names when we were created, only numerical designations.”

“Oh.” Din began to deflate again. “I was only given a name, but… I wish I had a nickname like you guys.”

Wrecker set a hand on Din’s shoulder. “Well, you gotta’ know a lot about Mandalorians to think that’s what we were, right?”

Din looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He blinked in succession and rushed to correct himself. “I mean, Wrecker.” He hesitated before going on. “I learned a lot about them in galactic history. And my pare…”

Din came to an abrupt stop. Grief powerful enough to knock Hunter off his feet washed over the young boy’s face, though he still pushed on to finish his thought—even if his voice was considerably smaller.

“They used to tell me a lot of Mandalorian stories.”

Wrecker shared a concerned look with Hunter. Still, he maintained his usual cheery disposition as he focused on Din. “That makes you an honorary Mandalorian in my book, kid. How about Mando for a nickname?”

That at least got Din to brighten again. “Mando…” Din even began to smile again. Hunter was overwhelmed by a wave of relief. “I like that.”

“Good.” Wrecker mirrored Din’s smile. “That means you gotta’ catch us up on all the stories, though!”

As Wrecker continued to keep Din busy, Hunter nudged Tech with his armored shoulder to get his attention. His brother gave him an inquisitive glance, which Hunter responded to by gesturing with his head back towards the cockpit. Hunter stood and Tech followed him over to the open threshold.

“I’m gonna contact General Ti,” Hunter nodded towards Din. “Give the kid an assessment to see what symptoms of shock he might be presenting. He’s a strong kid, I’ll give him that, but I’m not convinced that he’s just forgotten about everything that happened.”

Tech returned Hunter’s nod. “That would be a wise conclusion.”

Hunter set his hand on Tech’s shoulder before he turned away to walk into the cockpit. He paused just in front of the communicator, heaving a breath through his nostrils as he closed his eyes in consideration.

There was something tugging at his gut, squeezing his lungs hard enough to make breathing feel like a chore. Reporting to a higher ranking officer, even a general, wasn’t anything new for Hunter, so he knew that wasn’t the problem. It was something else.

Hunter reopened his eyes and spared a glance over his shoulder. Wrecker and Echo were distracting Din with more conversation as Tech tended to him, causing their soft voices and Din’s gentle laughter to fill the space. Even Crosshair looked fondly amused from where he was still standing behind his brothers.

Hunter smiled. The Marauder was… warmer. Lighter. Happier . He hadn’t seen it like this ever since the war had started, since before his brothers sourced their joy from things much more innocent than warfare.

Then Hunter faced the communicator again, and his stomach clenched hard enough that he thought he might be sick right there.

Something wasn’t right. Hunter wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he just needed better sleep than he’d been getting these days, but deep down, he knew exactly what it was, because he knew exactly what order was awaiting him on the other end of the call.

Was he really about to drop this freshly orphaned child off like some kind of cargo shipment?

Hunter shook his head. There was no other choice; they were soldiers, and there was no business exposing a kid to a life like theirs. Hunter had never thought twice about keeping survivors around before. He wasn’t sure why it should be any different this time.

The sergeant forced himself to press the button on the communicator before he could hesitate again. After a few heavy heartbeats, General Ti’s holographic image appeared in front of him.

“ Sergeant Hunter. You’re reporting sooner than expected .” There was no missing the caution in General Ti’s tone as she undoubtedly prepared herself for the worst. “ How did your mission go? ”

Hunter steadied himself with a breath and looked apologetically at the general. “I’m afraid we were too late, General. The settlement’s been destroyed.”

The general blanched, though she otherwise maintained her usual composure. “ Any survivors? ”

Hunter circled his jaw, once again considering his words. As disobedient as he and his brothers could be, this wasn’t something he should lie about. “Just one. A child.”

General Ti’s head lowered. After a brief moment of silence, she spoke in a softer voice than usual. “ May the Force be with him, and with those he knew who have faded into it. ”

Hunter didn’t respond. He was waiting to receive his order, one that he should have had no problem following. They had disobeyed much more complex orders before.

“ Bring the child to Coruscant. I will call ahead and let them know you’re coming. ”

Hunter nodded. “Yes, General.” He cleared his throat, but kept the sound quiet enough for only him to hear. “We’ll see you back on Kamino after our… detour.”

General Ti returned his nod, and she even managed a genuine smile for him. “ I’ll be looking forward to it, Sergeant .”

Thankfully, General Ti ended the call there. Hunter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and closed his eyes.

The sergeant didn’t know what to make of the Force, and like many other clones, he had his own suspicions about it, but whatever was suddenly tugging on his heartstrings certainly felt like a mysterious force. It screamed at him to disobey in a way he hadn’t experienced before, not even in their riskiest endeavors.

Hunter reopened his eyes and turned his head over his shoulder. The dynamic between everyone had already changed, with Wrecker, Echo, and Tech huddled on the ground around Din as the boy spoke with wide, excited eyes. Even Crosshair was lingering closer, his chair spun in their direction as he smiled around the toothpick between his lips.

The sergeant reached out with his senses to listen more closely.

“... and zzsskk! ”

Din raised his arm as if he was pretending to pull a weapon from a sheath. Wrecker let out an eager gasp, his gaze glittering almost as much as the child’s. Tech looked pensive, while Echo beamed at Din the best he could.

“The warrior had a glowing sword!”

“Glowing sword?” Wrecker chuckled and nudged Tech. “Now that’s wizard.”

“Technically, if this ‘sword’ did have a luminescent glow, it would classify as a lightsaber,” Tech spoke up. He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Though I suppose vibroswords and blades can, at times, produce luminescence of their own accord…”

Din blinked at Tech in innocent confusion. “Huh?”

“Uh, that’s alright,” Echo waved his hand at Din in reassurance. “What happened next, Mando?”

Din’s shoulders lifted at the nickname, and he gave Echo an enthusiastic nod before going on.

Hunter gave his sensitive hearing a rest as he smiled to himself. Every heartbeat on that ship was at ease for the first time in much too long. He knew his brothers enjoyed battle, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still feel the stress of it. This was the calmest they all had been since the earliest days of their deployment.

Surely, that couldn’t be a coincidence. Hunter just didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it.

Echo was more than happy to volunteer for the first watch shift, and he had no intentions of rotating out anytime soon. He had offered his bunk to their young passenger, and the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the child’s slumber. If anyone knew how important that first bout of rest after such trauma and loss was, it was Echo.

In fact, he’d been remembering a lot of those moments ever since they left Aq Vetina.

Such as Echo’s own eternal slumber after the Citadel. He shivered just thinking about the confusing stretch of darkness and flickering light that seemed as if it would never end. Sequences had run over his eyes constantly, letting light in each time they did, but they were never enough to bring him back completely.

Echo blinked his weightless eyelids to relieve the burning ache within them.

It had taken a long time for him to get comfortable with sleeping again, and clearly, he was still adjusting. He had been good about it for a while, but there was something about Din’s tragedy that had felt so personal to him.

Echo had understood it, that feeling of losing everybody, especially those held closest to the heart. He hadn’t even been given proper time to grieve Fives after he woke from his stasis. Somehow, that hurt more than the idea of having to witness his brother’s fate with his own eyes. He couldn’t even be there to protect his brother from the relentless force of death.

And then there was the explosion causing the fate of Din’s parents, and Echo was brought right back to Rishi Moon, to the graveyard of his three other brothers.

Echo tapped his scomp against his thigh and closed his eyes. No, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Facing these horrors in his conscious mind was bad enough.

Plus, if it wasn’t him out here, it would be Hunter, and Echo couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother get more than an hour of sleep—if that. Hunter had been teetering on a migraine purely from his senses getting little to no rest before Echo had assured him for a third time that he would be just fine having a solo watch shift.

Echo’s eyes only reopened when he heard gentle footsteps behind him. Knowing better than to actually expect a threat, Echo let out a sigh and prepared to lecture Hunter for not staying asleep.

But when Echo turned his chair around, his gaze was forced to lower to meet his visitor’s. Lost brown eyes met his own, the grief within them three times larger than the boy’s own stature.

“Hey, kid.” Echo kept his voice low to keep the others from waking. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”

Din shook his head, his stare falling to his arms as he pulled the sleeves of his red tunic over his fists. His words were barely a whisper as he spoke. “I keep seeing them.”

Echo’s heart splintered within his chest, but he kept a steady expression for the boy. “Your people?”

Din’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath before he lifted his head again. His lower lip quivered as his gaze sparkled with unshed tears. “My parents.”

Echo deflated, his eyes cutting away from the child for just a fraction of a moment. The swell of grief that rose within him was strong enough to make him lose his breath, though he found his voice and recovered quickly for Din’s sake. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. I…”

Echo paused, pressing his lips together as he considered his next words carefully.

“I know how hard it can be to sleep after things like this.”

Din’s brow wrinkled at him, the light of curiosity—and a sense of hope—sparkling in the dark depths of his devastation. “You do?”

Echo let out a gentler breath this time. The memories had already been on his mind, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to coax them out just a bit further to ease this young boy’s fresh wound. “I do.” Echo managed a smile. “Want to hear a story?”

Din nodded eagerly, no doubt grateful for the distraction. Echo let out a soft chuckle and tapped the co-pilot’s seat next to him. Din hopped right up, spinning in the chair to face Echo as he tucked his hands underneath his legs and swung them back and forth in anticipation.

Now, if only Echo could find a way to keep this story from making things worse.

“These guys here,” Echo gestured with his head back towards the bunks, “they’re my brothers. We’re a squad. But… it wasn’t always that way, like I told you before. They're batchmates, and I used to have my own, too.”

Din’s expression began to fall as he realization dawned over him. “What happened to your batchmates, Echo?”

Hearing his own name from the boy’s lips made it even harder to say the truth out loud for some reason. Echo swallowed hard and pushed on. “They’re gone.”

Din frowned. “I’m sorry.” He adjusted the way he was sitting on his hands before he continued. “How many brothers did you have?”

Echo brought himself back to the past for a moment, when he and the rest of Domino Squad were just eager cadets who had finally managed to get along and pass the test. Back when they had their whole lives ahead of them.

Back when he was naive enough to really believe that.

“Four.”

Echo smiled, and it was genuine. He kept a careful eye on Din and saw the boy lightening up the more he spoke. Sharing his pain was making Din’s more manageable, and Echo would bleed himself out if it meant this boy would get closer to healing.

“Their names were Droidbait, Cutup, Hevy, and Fives.” Echo’s voice wavered on the last one.

Din’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm, even in the midst of the heavy topic. “How did they all get their names? Was it like yours?”

Echo bobbed his head. “In a way. Droidbait… well, he kept acting like bait for the training droids, and he’d get hit by ‘em all the time.”

Din’s brow pinched together. “Did it hurt?”

“Not too bad, but he definitely had a lot of bruises.” Echo waited until Din had relaxed to keep going. “Cutup got his name from one of our trainers. This trainer… he was real tough on us, but Cutup wasn’t afraid to talk back to him. So, the guy called him a cutup, and he used that as his name.”

Din giggled. “That’s wizard.”

Echo grinned, recognizing Wrecker’s vernacular on Din’s tongue already. “Isn’t it?” He took a deep breath as Hevy’s image entered his mind. “We named my brother Hevy, because not only was he the strongest of us, but he also loved heavy machinery. He used the biggest blaster the clones are allowed to carry, a Z-6 blaster cannon.”

Din’s eyes doubled in wonder. “ Whoa .”

Echo chuckled. Hevy would’ve loved this kid, no doubt.

That left him with one more name to review. Echo fought the glassiness that had already started to overtake his vision.

“Fives got his name from his CT number. Do you remember Tech telling you about those?” Din nodded. “Fives’ was CT-5555, so he shortened it to Fives. Fives and I… we were really close, because we lost our other brothers early on in the war.”

Din deflated. He searched Echo’s gaze before he asked a question in a quiet and cautious voice. “Can I ask what happened to them?”

The corners of Echo’s mouth lifted as he nodded. “They’d want their stories to be told.” Echo exhaled a breath and went on. “We were stationed at an outpost on a moon. It was our first mission, and we had been there for a long time. Nothing had ever happened, but one night, we were suddenly attacked by droids.”

Din inhaled a sharp breath. Echo softened; it would be all too familiar for the boy, based on what Echo had seen once they had arrived on Aq Vetina.

“Droidbait was one of the first to try to hold them off, but there were too many of them. The rest of us got out of the station, but Cutup got taken by local wildlife. We had some reinforcements arrive, two of our finest commanding officers, but even they weren’t enough to overrun the droids.”

Echo’s mouth was getting dry. It was never quite easier to tell this story, but it did heal little fractals in his soul each time. The pain would turn into mending eventually.

“That’s when Hevy gave his life for ours by blowing up the whole base. His actions not only saved both our commanding officers, Fives, and I, but it also told the Republic that we were in trouble, and prevented a major attack on our homeworld of Kamino.”

Din’s lip was starting to quiver again, but his voice was still fairly strong when he managed a response to Echo’s story. “He was a hero.”

Echo closed his eyes and blew out a heavy breath. “He was. Because of what he did, giving his life for Fives and I, we were able to fight in the war for a long time, side-by-side. His loss, and my other brothers’, never got easier to deal with, but… I know that they did what they did for a reason, and I wanted to honor that the best I could by moving forward and continuing their fight.”

Din was silent after that. Echo reopened his eyes to see the boy staring at his lap, fresh tear tracks visible on his cheeks. Echo’s heart leapt into his throat at the mere thought of accomplishing the opposite of what he had wanted by upsetting Din further, but before he could do anything, Din began to move.

The boy slid off the chair and practically fell into Echo’s side, wrapping his arms around the ARC trooper the best he could. Echo froze for a few heartbeats, too shocked to do anything just yet, but he eventually came to his senses and gently held Din closer to his side.

Din sniffled back his tears and spoke, his voice muffled from where he was practically buried in Echo’s side. “I’m sorry about your brothers, Echo.”

Echo was selfishly grateful that Din didn’t ask about Fives. That was a story he wasn’t ready to tell.

“It’s okay.” Echo gave the boy’s back a soft tap. “I’ve moved on now, but it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten them.” Echo dared to lower his voice and go on. “One day, you’ll be able to do the same, too, because their sacrifice was the same as Hevy’s.”

Din lifted his face from Echo’s side. It was still wet with tears, but there was a newfound strength there that the ARC trooper could clearly see within his dark eyes. “They’re heroes, just like your brother.”

Echo smiled and nodded. “They are.”

Din returned his smile. His expression morphed into something more pensive before he spoke again. “If your brothers all give each other nicknames, and you all gave me a nickname… does that mean I’m your brother now, too?”

Din’s expression was something so breathlessly hopeful that Echo found himself speechless at first. After so many years spent witnessing the galaxy’s outward opposition to clones, it was hard to imagine that someone on the outside, even a child like Din, would ever want to be counted amongst their ranks. But here he was, practically pleading with his eyes full of wonder to be considered one of them.

And who was Echo to refuse him?

“Yeah, Mando.” Echo set his hands on Din’s shoulders and nodded. “It does.”

Din grinned, the last traces of sadness fleeing from his gaze as he bounced on his heels. He then retreated back to his seat and all but jumped into it. Echo blinked a few times at the quick and unexpected change in pace, but then he laughed.

It was all too similar to both Fives and Hevy.

“Well, I better make good on my namesake then, right?”

Din clapped his hands together excitedly, then tensed as his head whipped towards the bunks. When no one grumbled or swore about getting woken up, Din relaxed and continued. This time, his voice was a whisper.

“Can I tell you another story?”

Echo smiled and leaned back in his own chair, suddenly grateful he wasn’t alone anymore. “I’d be honored.”

Din straightened in severity and nodded, letting his smile linger as he got right into it.

“This one starts ten thousand years ago, with a man named Mandalore the Great.”

Chapter Text

Tech had already observed that Echo’s bunk was vacant when he woke for his watch shift, and thus it was not a surprise when he discovered that their adolescent passenger, Din, was in the cockpit with Echo. What was quite shocking was the fact that the child had managed to fall asleep in a less-than-ideal position, with his whole body curled into the seat.

Echo, however, had not joined Din in slumber, which—given his current responsibility in keeping watch—was optimal.

“I cannot imagine he will be pleased when he wakes,” Tech spoke into the open air, keeping his tone quiet enough to avoid rousing the boy. Echo spun around in his chair to face him. “That position has a high likelihood of causing unpleasant muscular strains.”

“Ah, he’s young.” Echo waved his hand. “His muscles are more relenting than ours.”

Tech rolled his shoulders, which contained an ever-present soreness as a result of his long hours spent staring down at his datapad, projects, and other tasks. “That… is a fair point.” He used his finger to push his goggles up his nose. “Well, at least you now have your bunk to return to.”

Echo rose from his seat and grimaced. He mumbled so quietly that Tech had to ponder whether Echo truly meant for his brother to hear his words or not. “If I can even get any sleep.”

Echo looked down at Din’s sleeping form, and the corners of his mouth rose. He pressed his hand gently against the boy’s shoulder before he stepped away and nodded at Tech.

“Try to keep him asleep, yeah?” Tech could easily identify the dark familiarity in Echo’s eyes as he patted Tech’s armored shoulder on the way out. “It’s a miracle he’s even sleeping after something like this.”

Tech simply returned his nod, uncertain of what to say. He was, of course, aware of Echo’s own tragedies, particularly because he played a key role in the ARC trooper’s survival, but it was not a subject that was broached often, if ever.

As for Tech, it was not something he was familiar with. Not in the slightest.

Tech eyed the child warily as he took his place in the pilot’s chair, and for some odd reason, he cleared his throat. He immediately winced to himself, all too aware of how that sound could have accomplished exactly what Echo had endeavored to avoid: rousing the child.

Thankfully, however, the boy did not stir. In fact, by Tech’s quick observations, it appeared as if he was only entering a deeper stage of slumber. His eyelids had started to flutter, indicative of him entering his REM cycle.

Tech gave his head a curious tilt. He could not imagine that those dreams would be pleasant, but so far, Din seemed to be at peace. He shrugged to himself and set his attention on his datapad.

They were making sufficient progress to their ultimate destination on Coruscant. Tech was not thrilled to divert from their original path, particularly given the fact they had been away from Kamino for more rotations than even Tech had bothered to memorize. He did, however, understand the rationale as to why it was happening.

Unfortunately, Tech did not… feel very good about it. Which was strange, considering Tech was certainly not one to operate off of mere feelings as opposed to staunch facts.

When Tech chanced another glance over at Din’s tiny sleeping form, that feeling intensified. It was a strange phenomenon. Searching for a proper explanation, Tech ruminated over what could possibly be causing this sensation, especially when he himself knew nothing of such tragedy and loss.

That was precisely when a memory reemerged, the only one Tech could associate with such heavy feelings.

Tech tapped through his datapad, committing details about their upcoming mission to memory—including all the information he could gather about the planet, its population, and its history. He was in the middle of a fascinating report from nearly two-hundred cycles ago when he first heard the muffled sound emerge from their bunks.

Instantly, Tech was alert, setting aside his datapad in favor of adhering to his duty of keeping watch. He suspected it was nothing more than one of his brothers having fitful rest, which certainly would not be the first time, but it was not a sound Tech was familiar with. That alone promised something unusual.

When Tech made his approach, he quickly concluded why the sound was unfamiliar. It was Echo, who had only just joined their squad, and he was very much awake. He was adjusting something on his scomp, seemingly ignoring the very distinct tear trails on his pale cheeks as he did so.

Tech hesitated. It was not often that he did so, but in a situation as delicate as this, with someone he had only just met, Tech calculated that it would be best to take an extra moment or two to decipher exactly how to approach the situation.

“Do you require assistance, Echo?”

Echo’s head snapped up to stare at Tech. He rubbed the sleeve on his organic arm against his face furiously and blinked a few times. “Oh, uh… sorry, Tech, I… didn’t…”

The ARC trooper was at a loss for words, it seemed. Tech assisted amidst his floundering.

“Your scomp.” Tech pointed at Echo’s mechanical arm. “Would you like a hand with that?”

Echo managed an amused huff. “Literally?”

Tech held a breath and glanced down at his own hands. “Unfortunately, no.” He offered Echo a polite smile. “I can, however, take a look at what may be bothering you.”

Echo sighed. Tech did not need to analyze the sound to sense how troubled it was. “I’m not sure this is something you can fix, Tech.”

Tech’s chin rose. “I am willing to try.”

Echo smiled, and this one was quite genuine. He let out a softer breath and nodded. “Alright. But let’s go back to the cockpit.” He swung his legs out from his bunk, and Tech gave him the proper room to maneuver himself to his feet. “I’m not really willing to wake one of ‘em up during my first week here.”

“That is a wise choice.” Tech pointed a single finger up as he led Echo back to the cockpit. “The last time one of them was roused during their REM cycle, a punch was delivered.”

Echo’s brow shot up. “Who did that to who?”

“Allow me to spare you the details.”

“Fair enough.” Echo chuckled.

Tech sat back in the pilot’s chair, and Echo took the co-pilot’s chair beside him. Tech made a motion for Echo’s scomp, though the ARC trooper hesitated before settling the cool metal inside Tech’s grasp.

“According to my quick observations, everything looks normal.” Tech’s gaze flickered over the scomp, searching for something amiss—though he failed to find it.

“Yeah…” Echo sighed again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just… getting used to it.” Echo’s gaze shifted to the viewport, where the blue flashes of hyperspace were still illuminating the small space. “To all of it.”

Tech let go of Echo’s scomp and adjusted his goggles. “I can imagine that returning to reality from such a state of stasis is a difficult endeavor.” He paused. “Would you like to elaborate?”

Echo’s eyes fell closed. “It’s not just that.” A pained furrow knit in the ARC trooper’s brow. “It’s what happened while I was… gone. All the things that I missed.” His voice shook. “All the brothers I lost.”

Tech deflated. He glanced down, as if the floor of the cockpit would have something to assist him in this difficult conversation. He was not so fortunate.

“I lost my last batchmate.”

Tech’s attention immediately returned to Echo as the ARC trooper spoke again. His voice was even more fragile than it had been before.

“He died while I was trapped on Skako Minor. He… never knew I survived.” Echo’s breath hitched. “And I never got to be there to protect him from death.”

Tech caught sight of a new tear falling from Echo’s closed eyes, due to it reflecting the bright lights of hyperspace. He tightened his lips and reached forward to set a hand on Echo’s shoulder. The ARC trooper’s eyes reopened.

“It is not your fault, Echo.” Tech, as usual, focused on the facts, and he used them to comfort Echo the best he could. “Every clone created is aware of the sacrifices that must be made in this conflict. Your brother was aware of that when he thought you had perished, and there is no doubt he embraced that when his time arrived.”

Echo’s stare fell again, and Tech watched as his eyes darted around the small space. His voice was so low and haunted when he spoke that Tech had to strain to hear him over the thrum of hyperspace. “Rex said he was killed by another clone.”

Tech could not help giving Echo’s shoulder a squeeze as his eyes widened. That... was certainly an unusual thing to hear.

“He said that Fives wasn’t… that something was wrong with him at the end.” Echo closed his eyes again. “He was going through something that Rex still doesn’t understand, and he had even attacked the chancellor.” Echo shook his head. “And I wasn’t there for him, to help him through whatever was going on.”

“Because you were captured by the Separatists.” Tech was quick to provide more facts. “Had they not apprehended you and turned you into… this, then you truly would have perished at the Citadel.” Tech’s chest began to ache with a sensation he certainly wasn’t used to, but he surmised that it was a sad type of sympathy. “There was nothing you could have done for him.”

Echo’s eyes opened. His stare was empty as it focused on the systems displayed in front of him. “Yeah, you’re right.” He exhaled a heavy breath and gave his head another aimless shake. “But that doesn’t make losing him any easier.”

Tech frowned. Acutely aware that his factual data was not providing a solution, he withdrew his hand from the ARC trooper’s shoulder. “I apologize, Echo. I’m afraid you may have been correct before.” He pushed his goggles up his nose. “I am uncertain of how to remedy this.” Tech glanced over his shoulder to look towards the bunks. “Particularly because I have never experienced such loss.”

“Good.”

That time, it was Echo who set his hand on Tech’s shoulder. Tech was at least pleased to see that Echo’s gaze had brightened more than before, which meant that something had certainly been fixed.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to keep it that way, for all of you.” Echo nodded, the lines of his face set in palpable determination. “I never want you to have to go through what I’ve been through—and what I’m still going through.”

Tech nodded, uncertain of how else to respond. Echo gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“And thank you, Tech. You’ve helped more than you realize. Talking about it may hurt, but it lightens the load, bit by bit.” Echo managed a small smile. “Thanks for giving me the space to do that.”

Tech could only blink at Echo. Again, he was uncertain of what to say. With a mind that primarily thought in technicalities and factual data, it was difficult to make sense of something as elusive as feelings.

By the time Echo headed back to his bunk, however, Tech could not help but feel accomplished by whatever he had achieved, because it clearly had worked.

As Tech blinked down at the small adolescent in the chair beside him, he finally understood what this strange feeling was.

It was that same, sad sympathy he had felt for Echo.

For a moment, Tech looked over his shoulder, his stare attempting to follow Echo’s path. He wondered if the ARC trooper was in need of a listening ear once again, given how the rescue of this boy likely brought up those old, unpleasant memories.

Echo, however, had not asked for such assistance, and Tech was soon too occupied by the boy stirring at his side.

Tech’s eyes widened in an odd sort of panic as he watched Din lift his head. His eyelids were hooded by drowsiness, though they soon flew open as Din observed Tech sitting next to him.

“Where’d Echo go?” Din asked, his soft voice somewhat roughened by his slumber.

“Echo is hopefully headed to get some rest. I am supplanting his position so that he may do so.” Tech lifted his brow at the boy. “You ought to do the same.”

Din shifted in the seat, pulling his knees towards his chest as he wrapped his arms around his legs. Tech observed that the boy was growing more timid. “I don’t really want to go back to sleep again.”

“Why is that?” Tech gave Din a thoughtful once-over. “Is it because of the difficulties this chair is giving you? I had warned Echo about that. My bunk is now available should you wish to rest there instead.”

“No.” Din sniffed, and Tech inched himself closer to see tears lining the boy’s lashes. “I don’t want to see it again.”

“See what, exactly?”

Din buried his face into his legs, causing his voice to be muffled as he responded. “Those droids.”

“Oh.” That feeling gnawed at Tech’s chest again. He called upon his memory with Echo as he folded his gloved hands over his middle. “Perhaps talking about it would help?”

Din lifted his head to give Tech a wary look. “How?”

Tech thought for a moment before he shrugged. “I am not certain. I do know, however, that Echo has told me before that speaking about such things can be helpful, albeit painful.” He gave the boy a firm nod. “I will listen should you wish to tell me.”

Din seemed to ponder Tech’s words as he watched hyperspace flicker all around them. For Tech, it was quite reminiscent of that moment spent with Echo long ago. “Okay.” Din’s jaw tightened as he fixated his stare on Tech again. “I’ll try.”

Tech nodded, fully rotating his chair in Din’s direction. He leaned forward as well, further assuring the boy that he had his full attention.

Din watched his fingers as they picked at something on the fabric of his trousers. “It happened so fast. My parents heard the ship first, but the shooting started almost right after that.”

The boy began to rush through his words. Tech did not mind; it fit with the typical speed of his thoughts.

“We thought we’d be safe at home, but my father looked outside and saw that they were blasting doors open, so he picked me up and took my mother and I out the back door, and then we just kept running and running…”

Din’s voice began to tremble. Tech’s brow furrowed.

“It smelled like smoke, and some other stuff I’m not really sure about, and it was really loud.” Din sniffed again, wiping his face with the sleeve of his maroon robe. “My father kept saying I would be okay, but I kept seeing those droids…” he hiccuped, his voice growing quiet, “killing people.”

Din paused. Tech analyzed his expression and determined that he would be unable to speak for the time being, and so he endeavored to fill the space with facts that could potentially help.

“Unfortunately, that is what these battle droids do.” Tech adjusted his goggles as he pinpointed the correct facts to say. “Because they are not sentient beings, and they lack more personalization than many other droids, they do not have the potential to feel at all, much less understand what it means to take a life.”

Din blinked up at Tech, the corners of his mouth turned downward in a frown. “But why did they do it?” He shook his head. “We never did anything to them, Tech.”

Tech set his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am aware.” He gave it a soft squeeze. “They were acting on orders from the Separatists. It… can be difficult to understand what their motivations are at times, though your homeworld is far from the only to be attacked by them in such a manner.”

Din’s head lowered again. His lips were trembling, much like his voice. “If my parents hadn’t put me down there…”

He stifled a cry. Tech moved out of his chair to kneel beside Din.

“Why didn’t they save themselves, too?”

Tech was starting to feel crushed by this sensation inside of him, tightening his chest to the extent that even the simple act of inhaling and exhaling oxygen felt like a chore. He instead focused on giving Din’s shoulder another squeeze and supplying more facts that could assist.

“It is very likely that there was no possible scenario in which saving themselves would have also saved you.” Tech’s stare met Din’s when the boy lifted his head back up. “Their primary objective was to make sure you lived, and as you can see,” Tech’s free hand gestured to Din, “they succeeded.”

Din’s eyes searched Tech’s goggles. Tech’s head tilted at him.

“It is my personal belief that your parents would have wanted you to take advantage of the life they have given you, despite the fact they are no longer in it.”

Din’s tense body began to relax, and Tech smiled to himself at the visual evidence of him regaining his composure. The boy’s wet eyes blinked a few times at Tech. “I think you’re right.” He sniffed and wiped his face once again. “But I still miss them.”

“That is natural.” Tech patted Din’s shoulder before allowing his hand to fall back to his side. “It is evidence of the genuine care you have fostered for them, as is typical in a relationship between parents and their children.”

Tech scratched the back of his neck.

“This is, however, merely a hypothesis, as I have no such experience with a parent-child relationship.”

Din’s brow furrowed. He adjusted his position so that his small legs dangled off the side of the chair. “What do you mean?”

Tech rose enough to sit back down in his own chair again. “As clones, we do not have parents. We were all created from the same genetic template, a bounty hunter named Jango Fett. Fett, however, perished at the beginning of the war, and he did not care for us the way a parent would prior to that.”

Din’s stare fell to the floor. “That must be sad.”

Tech shrugged. “I cannot mourn something I never had.”

At Din’s continued silence, Tech rotated back to his datapad and navigated to the files he intended on reading through during his watch shift. Just before he could advise the child to seek proper rest, however, the boy spoke again. “Well, maybe one day you’ll have it.”

Tech’s brow shot up as he returned Din’s glance, which was quite sympathetic. “I believe I am far beyond the point of necessitating a parental relationship.”

Din looked away for a moment, his face scrunched up as if he were pondering another alternative, before his head snapped back towards Tech. “Maybe you’ll be the parent, then!”

Tech would have gladly filled Din in on why that was highly unlikely, considering that Tech was a soldier bred for war and was thus unable to ever have a family outside of his brothers. He was, however, struck with that strange feeling again, and it was powerful enough to stop him from doing what he did best: being honest.

Instead, Tech offered the hopeful boy a small smile. “Perhaps.” He looked back down at his datapad and let out a light breath. “For now, you should at least rest somewhere more suitable than this chair.”

Din shrunk down into the chair in Tech’s periphery. “But then you’ll be alone.”

Tech shrugged without looking away from his datapad. “That is fine. I am used to it, particularly during these watch shifts.”

Din’s voice was smaller the next time he spoke. “But then I’ll be alone.”

And there it was again, that strange phenomenon that made Tech’s chest tight. He ignored it, even if he did resolve to lighten the child’s worries. “No, you will not. The bunk room is currently occupied by the rest of the squad, and though they typically do not take kindly to being woken, I’m certain they will make an exception for you.”

Tech spared a quick glance at Din to see the boy’s shoulders lifting and his eyes brightening. After another moment’s hesitation, Din nodded and slid off the chair. “Okay, fine. You said I could use your bunk, right?”

“That is correct.”

Tech was about to put his full focus onto the datapad in his hand when Din added one more thing. “Thank you, Tech. For the bunk, and…” Din smiled, “for making me feel better.”

Tech looked at Din and smiled again when that unfamiliar warmth boiled over inside his chest. He offered the boy a firm nod. “You are most welcome.”

Din returned the smile before he walked out of the cockpit and headed for the bunks. Tech watched after him only for a moment, as he was eager to get back to his files.

Still, it took longer than usual for him to focus, as Tech’s thoughts were continuously pulled back to their young passenger. He quite liked Din’s curiosity; in a way, it reminded Tech of himself.

But there was nothing to do about it, so Tech eventually pushed the thoughts from his mind and set his full attention on the glowing vidscreen in front of him.

Crosshair didn’t have to share his eldest brother’s enhanced senses to hear the child’s small footsteps returning to the bunks.

Well, eldest if he wasn’t counting Echo, though Crosshair wasn’t sure yet on whether he was ready to consider the reg his brother or not. Echo was a hell of a soldier, certainly more than deserving of his ARC trooper rank, but Crosshair wasn’t blind to Echo’s level of integration with the squad. He was well aware that Echo was still adjusting to all of their deviant natures, particularly Crosshair’s severity.

Crosshair couldn’t, and didn’t really, blame Echo for that, but it still kept him wary. Until Echo could go toe-to-toe with him the way the others could, then Crosshair couldn’t count him as a true brother just yet.

It was why Crosshair was intrigued by the boy they had saved from that pitiful settlement. Din had been able to respond to Crosshair’s harsh attempt at a joke with the proper amount of amusement, which wasn’t the kind of first impression the sniper was used to. He had been ready for Hunter’s lecture on softening up his nature for the child, but Din honestly didn’t seem to mind.

Crosshair had to give him credit for that, and credit for catching the sniper’s intrigue in general. That was a hard thing to do.

Crosshair remained where he was in his bunk, but trained his eyes upon Din’s approaching figure. Kriff , he was tiny, but that was probably because Crosshair and the squad had gone too long since they had last seen—and been—cadets themselves. Din was likely the size of one, but something about the robe he wore swallowing him up just…

Crosshair’s train of thought stopped when he saw where Din was headed. A single eyebrow shot up as he looked between the child and Tech’s not-so empty bunk underneath his own.

There was no way Tech was actually sanctioning this.

Crosshair barely bit back his groan as he sat up and swung his legs off the bunk. He rested his elbows against his knees and spoke in his usual hiss, though it was quieter than usual to keep the others from waking up. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Din froze and whipped his head up, facing Crosshair with a concerned knit in his brow. “W-What do you mean?”

Crosshair gestured with his chin to Tech’s bunk. “Don’t go in there.”

Din blinked a few times before he jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “But Tech said I could…”

Crosshair snickered, causing Din to trail off. The sniper shook his head. He would never take Tech for a clueless person, but clearly, this was an oversight that even his closest brother’s exceptional mind was capable of making.

“You won’t get any sleep in there.” Crosshair hopped lightly onto his feet and turned around, peeling back the blankets to show Din what was underneath them.

Din’s eyes widened with both surprise and interest as his gaze flickered over the bunk. “Oh.” He stifled a giggle. “What’s all that stuff doing in his bed?”

Crosshair let out his own huff of amusement as he looked back at Tech’s assortment of stashed-away collectibles. It consisted of various tools, a small spare datapad, stray bolts, and other metallic items even Crosshair couldn’t identify.

“Who knows, kid.” Crosshair lowered the blankets again and rose from where he’d been kneeling. “I stopped asking him questions like that a long time ago.”

Din just shrugged before he looked hesitantly at all the other occupied bunks. “Is there anywhere else for me to go? Tech said I should sleep somewhere better than the chair I was in.”

Crosshair pursed his lips in consideration, but there was something else he needed to speak on before he could provide a solution. “Before we do that, you have to lower your voice more.”

He cut his gaze over to Hunter’s bunk across the way, which hung above Wrecker’s—though the latter’s snoring was probably keeping the sergeant’s sensitive ears occupied, anyway.

“Hunter’s enhanced senses could pick up the tone you’re using right now from at least a klick away.”

Din’s eyes widened in wonder. “ Whoa .”

Crosshair was pleased to hear the boy’s voice lowered to the proper amount. He then let out a quiet sigh as he glanced up at his own bunk.

Well, he was already awake. No use trying to go back to sleep knowing this child was wandering aimlessly around the ship.

“Here.” Crosshair patted the bunk that was far above Din’s head. “Take mine.”

Din glanced up at Crosshair in disbelief. “But you’ll need your bunk, won’t you?”

Crosshair shrugged. “I was already awake. Might as well take the time in this peace and quiet to clean my rifle, which I can do from anywhere.”

Din continued to hesitate. He looked between Crosshair and the bunk a few times, just enough for the sniper to roll his eyes.

“Arms up.”

Crosshair’s command was curt enough for Din to obey without question. Crosshair grabbed the boy underneath his arms, remaining gentle while also maintaining the proper amount of firmness to lift him. The sniper set Din on the bunk and let out a dramatic exhale as he lowered his hands.

“There. Decision made.” Crosshair turned towards the nook where he kept his weapons kit. “Now get some sleep, before we wake Hunter up and get a lecture for it.”

The boy seemed to comply, based on the fact he didn’t respond. Crosshair could hear Din shuffling around in his military grade bedsheets while the sniper grabbed his rifle and his cleaning supplies. He shoved some of Tech’s stuff to the side, just enough to make room for Crosshair to sit there.

Crosshair kept his boots propped up against the floor as he rested his rifle along his thighs and busied himself with cleaning. After balancing a toothpick between his lips, he was almost fully dissociated into his calming work, but a small voice from above managed to break through his temporary reverie.

“Crosshair?”

The sniper stopped and sighed. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers around the rifle. “What?”

There was no response for a few heartbeats. Crosshair’s patience was starting to wear thin by the time Din spoke again. “Do you ever wish you had parents?”

Crosshair’s eyes widened unexpectedly at the question. “What…” he hissed and blinked a few times while shaking his head, “why are you asking me that?”

“Well,” the boy let out a soft breath, “Tech told me you guys don’t have parents. And…”

Din paused, his voice wilting as he went on.

“I don’t have parents anymore, either, so… I guess I just wanted to know how you guys do it.”

Something in Crosshair’s chest tightened so hard that he had to take a second to remind himself to breathe. The first part of that sensation was no doubt frustration as he made a mental note to reprimand Tech for telling a child about their… complicated situation as clones. The other, though, was something largely unfamiliar, something that tugged from his chest down through his gut, almost enough to make him sick.

Suddenly, Crosshair wanted to do whatever he could to put Din at ease. Even if it meant being more vulnerable than usual.

Not a smart tactic for a sniper, but this wasn’t a battlefield, and this child was clearly no adversary.

“I’ve never thought about it.” Crosshair stared down at the rifle in his hands and held it just a bit tighter. “Having my older brothers always felt like having parents, anyway. Especially with one as protective as Hunter.”

Din hummed thoughtfully from above him. Crosshair let out a quiet chuckle when it reminded him all too much of Tech. Just how much had Tech taught this boy during their brief time together?

“Are you the youngest?”

Crosshair sighed. He’d walked right into this one, but he never quite enjoyed being reminded that he was the youngest. He had heard enough of that from his brothers growing up. “Technically, yes.” Crosshair took up his rag and started cleaning the rifle again. “But in terms of the squad, Echo was the last to join, so…”

“Who’s the oldest? Is it Hunter?”

Crosshair smirked to himself. “It’s easy to tell with him, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Din seemed to muse upon something. “I think he’s a good older brother.”

Crosshair spared a look at Hunter’s bunk. His sharp eyes provided him with a clear view of Hunter’s closed eyes, proving the sergeant was still asleep before he responded. “I think so, too.”

“So, who’s next?”

Crosshair cut his eyes towards the cockpit. “Tech. Then Wrecker.”

“And then you.” Din still sounded much too excited for a boy who needed to sleep. “How old would Echo be if he wasn’t the last one to join the squad?”

“Older than all of us.”

Din inhaled a sharp breath. Crosshair leaned out enough to look up at his bunk and send the boy a warning glance. Din looked frantically towards Hunter’s bunk, but the sergeant still didn’t move. He let out a relieved exhale and lowered his voice even more than before.

“Sorry. Um… that just makes sense. Echo told me about his batchmates.”

Crosshair’s brow shot up. “He did?”

Not even Crosshair had heard about Echo’s batch yet, at least nothing significant. He tried to fight the sensation of betrayal that rippled through his chest. It was yet another reason why Crosshair still had to keep his walls up with Echo, just for now.

“Yup!” Din clearly didn’t pick up on Crosshair’s pitiful distress. “But it’s sad. He said a lot of them died on their first mission.”

Crosshair’s shoulders fell at that. He glanced up at Hunter and Wrecker sleeping across from him, and spared another look at the cockpit. He was suddenly swept by a wave of relief over the fact that he had never experienced such loss.

Crosshair never prayed, but he did plead to the stars right then that he would never have to experience it.

“Not a very cheery thought to have on your mind while you’re trying to sleep.”

Crosshair set his rifle aside and stood, turning to face his bunk. Din tensed as if he were in trouble, but the sniper simply reached forward to tuck the sheets closer to Din’s face and sides.

“Trust me, you don’t want to pull an all-nighter, kid.” Crosshair removed the toothpick for a moment and nodded. “You can ask us whatever questions you want once we’re all awake. Just get some rest.”

Din returned the nod, smiling before he tucked his chin closer to his chest and closed his eyes. Crosshair lingered for a moment, narrowing his eyes to make sure the boy wasn’t tricking him, but the sniper could tell by the steadying rise and fall of Din’s chest that he was truly beginning to fall asleep.

Crosshair picked up his rifle and turned towards the cockpit. He stopped, however, when he felt a new pair of eyes on him. His gaze shifted over to Hunter’s bunk, where he caught the sergeant’s watchful eye.

Crosshair resisted the urge to crawl out of his skin. Of course . If he was lucky, Hunter hadn’t heard much of that particularly vulnerable conversation. He braced himself for his older brother’s teasing and a lecture about why he was holding his rifle instead of sleeping.

But all Hunter did was flicker his gaze towards Din before nodding with a proud smile on his face. Crosshair’s brow wrinkled in confusion, but the sergeant was already turning away to focus on sleeping again, this time even slipping his bandana low enough to cover his eyes. Crosshair heaved a sigh of relief and trudged towards the cockpit.

Tech didn’t so much as flinch while Crosshair made his approach. He fell easily into the co-pilot’s chair and set his rifle on his legs once again, continuing with his task of cleaning.

“Do you have a proper explanation for why you are not indulging in rest at the moment?” Tech’s voice was nearly as chastising as the gaze behind his goggles.

“Only if you have a ‘proper explanation’ for telling that kid about our complicated lineage.” Crosshair returned Tech’s accusatory glare.

Tech simply pushed his goggles further up his nose. “It is not distressing information to share, and it is only the truth.” He looked back down at his datapad, seemingly resigned already with whatever was keeping Crosshair awake. “There was no benefit to lying.”

“For now.” Crosshair exhaled and shook his head. “The kid’s just lost his own parents, and now he knows we don’t have any, either. Not really great for his morale.”

Crosshair waited for Tech to quip back, but he was only met with silence. The sniper paused his work to look up at Tech again, just to find that his most confident brother was for once looking quite uncertain.

“Tech…”

“Crosshair, have you also been experiencing a strange phenomenon with this child? Encased within the thoracic cavity?”

Crosshair huffed. “You mean sympathy, from the heart?”

Tech shrugged. “If that is the case, then yes.”

Crosshair’s lips tightened before he nodded. “Yeah. Kid’s had it rough.”

Tech’s brow furrowed. “But this… it is different , Cross.” It wasn’t often that Tech used the shortened version of Crosshair’s name, something that alone expressed his true severity. “We have crossed paths with several people in a similar position, yet I have never felt so physically influenced by it.”

Crosshair leaned back further in the chair. “Well, I’m glad it’s not just me.”

Tech shook his head. “Unfortunately, there is little we can do to remedy it.” He checked the navicomputer. “We are making good time to Coruscant, and with General Ti having alerted them to our upcoming arrival, there is no way we can deviate without arousing suspicion.”

Crosshair blinked at Tech in surprise. “Why would we deviate?”

Tech froze while he was adjusting his goggles. “I…” he blinked a few times, “am uncertain.” He lowered his datapad to his lap and held his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “How strange.”

Strange, indeed—but even stranger was that Crosshair was just as disappointed by the truth of their current destination as Tech was, and their inability to find a way out of it. But what were they thinking, even considering keeping this boy around? They were soldiers in the middle of what felt like a never-ending war. This kid’s life had already been torn apart enough by the conflict.

Yet as Crosshair and Tech carried on their respective tasks in silence, the sniper could practically feel the tension sizzling in the air, and if he looked closely enough, he could see both their bodies weighed down by some invisible burden. Crosshair didn’t know what that meant, and as usual, he would let his older brothers be the ones to figure that out.

Chapter Text

Wrecker was relieved when he finally heard movement from behind him. While he would do just about anything to protect his brothers, keeping watch was a tough one, and not only because it was easily the most boring task he could ever have as a member of the GAR. Wrecker just hated being alone for so long.

He spun around in the pilot’s chair to see Hunter approaching from the bunks, a small smile stretching across the sergeant’s lips as he caught Wrecker’s attention. Wrecker returned his brother’s smile tenfold, his shoulders lifting in newfound energy.

“Mornin’, Sarge!” Wrecker exclaimed in his best hushed voice. If Tech were awake, he’d probably make a comment about it still being loud enough to scare a flock of porgs. Or the fact that it wasn’t technically morning, because they were still traveling through hyperspace.

“Hey.” Hunter set a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze before sitting in the co-pilot’s chair. “How’re you doing?”

“Good! Just bored .” Wrecker laid back further in the chair to emphasize his point. “Kinda wish we actually got attacked or somethin’. It hasn’t even been a full rotation of travelin’ yet, and it’s already felt like forever!”

Hunter huffed and raised an amused eyebrow. “Can’t say I completely agree with you on that, but I’m also not a fan of the change in pace, even if we need the rest.”

The sergeant then exhaled and looked back towards the bunks. Wrecker’s gaze followed, and he wondered if Hunter was sensing something there that Wrecker couldn’t. He had always been curious about his brothers’ enhancements, but he found Hunter’s to be the most difficult to wrap his head around. What he would give to spend a day in Hunter’s head…

“Is somethin’ wrong?” Wrecker almost cringed at the sound of his own voice. Yeah, maybe Tech had a point about his whispering, after all.

A muscle in Hunter’s jaw ticked the way it always did when he was deep in thought. Wrecker paid close attention to his brother even before he spoke.

“I’m… not sure.” Hunter blinked a few times and shook his head. “There’s just something about that kid.”

Wrecker smiled just at the thought of Din. Since they were separated from the other cadets on Kamino back in the day, Wrecker wasn’t used to interacting with kids other than his own brothers, especially during the war. Even then, Wrecker knew something about this kid was different. He was a real good storyteller, and braver than any kid should ever have to be.

“I like Mando.” Wrecker nodded towards the bunks. “It’s a real shame we don’t get to have more time with him.”

Hunter offered Wrecker yet another small smile, but it faded quickly. Wrecker frowned and studied his older brother closer.

“Like you said before,” Hunter started, “it hasn’t even been a full rotation yet, and I’ve already watched this kid bring out a side of our squad I haven’t seen in a while.” He huffed again. “Or ever.”

Hunter looked at Wrecker and tilted his head.

“You should’ve seen how Crosshair was with him while we were all asleep.” Hunter shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve never seen Cross so… gentle .”

Wrecker leaned forward. “Crosshair? Gentle ?” He laughed. “Yeah, right!”

“I’m serious, Wrecker.” All Wrecker had to do was meet his sergeant’s eyes to believe his words. “He gave the kid his bunk.” Hunter started to smile again as he looked back towards the bunk. “He even tucked him in.”

Wrecker gasped, because how else could he respond? There wasn’t even a mental image Wrecker could conjure up for that. “Wha… Why?”

Hunter shrugged. “Don’t know. Something to do with Tech’s bunk, I guess.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense, actually. I mean, you’ve seen Tech’s bunk, haven’t ya’?”

Hunter closed his eyes and sighed. “I can’t even get close. The frequencies that come from it could give me a migraine in seconds.” He lifted two fingers to his temple and gave it a rub, as if he already had a headache.

Wrecker narrowed his eyes. “Speakin’ of migraines…”

Hunter’s eyes reopened as he looked at Wrecker. “I’m fine.” He nodded. “I’m just trying to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

Hunter gestured with his head towards the bunks. “How this kid’s managed to soften us all up the way he has, to the point where Crosshair is tucking him in .”

Wrecker let out another laugh. “Thanks for remindin’ me, boss! I’m never gonna let him hear the end of that one.”

Hunter leveled Wrecker with a skeptical look. “You know better than to do that.”

Wrecker scoffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not afraid of him!”

Hunter raised his brow, calling Wrecker’s bluff as he started to shrink in on himself—as much as his broad frame could. Yeah, Hunter had a point. Wrecker wasn’t sure that teasing Crosshair would be worth whatever he got in return.

Wrecker groaned. “Fine. I’m a little afraid.” Wrecker sat up straighter again. “A healthy amount!”

“ Mhmm .”

Hunter chuckled and went back to looking at the bunks. Wrecker watched as the sergeant unsheathed his blade and started to twirl it between his fingers in a motion Wrecker knew was practically subconscious.

Wrecker held his breath. There had to be something more about all this that was bothering Hunter. Sure, it was Tech who had the exceptional mind, but no one knew all their brothers’ tells like Wrecker did.

“There’s somethin’ else you’re not tellin’ me.”

Wrecker rested his elbows against his knees as he gave Hunter a stern look. The sergeant cut his gaze towards Wrecker, and the blade paused perfectly within his gloved palm. After a few heartbeats, Hunter let out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing as his fist tightened around the hilt of his blade.

“Fine. But I’m already aware it’s ridiculous, so don’t make fun of me when I say it.”

Wrecker raised his brow. Of all his brothers, he would never expect Hunter to say something ridiculous.

Tech was smart, real smart, but Wrecker and his brothers didn’t really understand half the things that left his mouth, which made them sound pretty ridiculous to him. As for Crosshair… he said things just to get a reaction, so ridiculousness was expected with him, too. Wrecker was self-aware of the things he said himself, and Echo was still too new for Wrecker to gauge.

But Hunter? No, not unless he was really joking around.

The sergeant reopened his eyes, looking worriedly towards the bunks again. “I’m having second thoughts about taking the kid to Coruscant.”

Wrecker sat up straighter and blinked a few times. The only thing more shocking than Hunter saying that was the fact that Wrecker agreed with him. Ever since the sergeant confirmed their plans to head to Coruscant, Wrecker had felt more than disappointed. He had almost felt sick, and it got worse the more he looked at and interacted with Din.

It was even more than guilt, Wrecker realized. It was something dutiful , as if Wrecker had been given an order he couldn’t refuse—which was really the weirdest part of it all, because Wrecker and his brothers had no problem disobeying orders when they wanted to.

Wrecker finally composed himself enough to huff. “I don’t think you’re the only one.”

Hunter’s head snapped back towards him. “Really?”

Wrecker shrugged. “Well, I mean…” he scratched the back of his neck, “I’m pretty sure that’s how I’ve been feelin’, too, if that makes ya’ feel any better.”

Hunter looked relieved by the revelation. “Yeah, actually, it does.” He huffed and shook his head. “Thought I was losing it for even considering that.”

“Knowin’ how much sleep you don’t get, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

Wrecker gave his brother’s armored shoulder a punch. As usual, it was hard for Wrecker to gauge his playful blow on someone who didn’t have his same strength, and so Hunter grimaced after being jostled and rolled his shoulder.

“Whatever.” Hunter exhaled sharply through his nose. “That’s not important right now. I’ll sleep when I’ve got this situation with the kid figured out.”

Wrecker watched the sergeant’s stare flicker over every bunk on the ship, as if he could see them all perfectly from where he was sitting. He probably could, with those enhanced senses of his.

“Or when the war’s over.”

Wrecker was the one to huff this time. “Yeah, good luck with that one, boss.” He wasn’t usually the one to voice this unspoken thought that simmered between all of them, especially because Wrecker really did enjoy fighting clankers, but after all the time they had spent fighting already… it felt like there wouldn’t really be an end.

Or, at least, it wasn’t something clones like them ever wanted to think about.

Hunter let out a heavy sigh, and when Wrecker looked at him again, he noticed the sergeant had slouched in on himself—as if he had just aged a few years with that single breath. Wrecker’s chest tightened; he never liked remembering just how many burdens his eldest brother took upon himself to carry. After all, Wrecker was literally made for carrying burdens. Why wouldn’t Hunter let him help?

“Let’s just focus on the kid for right now.” Hunter opted for a change in subject as he began to flip the blade in his hand again. It twirled easily around his fingers as if it was nothing more than a strand of own hair. “This feeling you’re having… can you describe it?”

If Hunter wasn’t going to let Wrecker help with that burden right now, then the least he could do was go along with the topic change. “It’s hard to, honestly. When I think about leavin’ the kid there, it just shows up. But I don’t just feel it.” He hit his own fist against his chestplate. “I feel it.”

Hunter’s gaze met Wrecker’s, though the movements of his blade never stalled. “Me too.”

Wrecker’s brow shot up. “Really?” He chuckled, though he wasn’t as amused as he usually was when he let out that sound. “I wonder if the others are feelin’ the same thing.”

“Yeah.” Hunter’s stare flickered to the rest of the squad’s direction again. “Maybe it’s best if we talk about this as a group.”

Suddenly, Hunter’s blade stopped again. Wrecker was alert the second he saw the sergeant’s body tense. But after a few heartbeats, Hunter relaxed, so Wrecker did, too—especially once his brother’s lips started to curl up into a small smile.

“Someone’s awake.”

Wrecker followed Hunter’s stare and saw a tiny shadow stepping into the light of the cockpit. He let out a hearty laugh as the kid got closer.

“Mando!” Wrecker sat closer to the edge of his seat, smiling before he even saw Din doing the same. “What’s up, kid? How’d ya’ sleep?”

Din shrugged. “Not so good at first, but Echo, Tech, and Crosshair helped me get better sleep after.”

Wrecker’s own chest warmed upon hearing that, but seeing Hunter’s own face glow like never before made the feeling intensify. Wrecker had always worn his heart on his sleeve, at least that’s what he had been told, and Hunter had to become a caretaker because he was the oldest, but it wasn’t the same for their other brothers. To hear about them helping the kid was nice. Real nice.

Hunter spoke while Wrecker patted the seat behind him, inviting Din to hop up onto it. “Glad to hear it. The first night’s always the hardest.” Din nodded dutifully at the sergeant.

Wrecker couldn’t help his own curiosity. “How’d they help ya’?”

Din set his attention on Wrecker again, tucking his hands underneath his legs as he did so. “Echo told me about his brothers.” His brow scrunched up in thought. “But there was another word for it…” his eyes lit up, “batchmates! Right?”

Wrecker met Hunter’s gaze in mutual astonishment. Echo hadn’t even told the rest of them about his original batch yet. But Wrecker trusted Echo with his life already, so he knew that the eldest of them all would’ve had a good reason for sharing something like that with the kid first.

“That’s right, kid.” Hunter nodded at Din.

“I fell asleep for a little bit after that,” Din went on, “and when I woke up again, I was with Tech in here. He let me talk about…” the kid paused, and Wrecker held his breath as he watched Din deflate, “... what happened. That made me feel better, so he told me to find a bunk, and Crosshair gave me his and talked to me about you guys!”

Wrecker couldn’t stop the curt laugh that rumbled within his chest. “What’d Cross have to say?”

“He told me how old everybody is.” Din grinned in Hunter’s direction. “I guessed you were the oldest, and I got it right!”

Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah! I could tell because you’re a good older brother. Crosshair agreed with me on that!”

“Ah, did he?”

Wrecker watched Hunter’s eyes light up with mischief, matching the smirk that was starting to spread across his lips—but he also knew his brother well enough to see the genuine way in which he was beaming at their youngest brother’s praise for him. It wasn’t often that any of them got to hear Crosshair say something like that about them.

“And how did that come up?” Hunter asked.

“Well, after talking about… my parents,” Wrecker winced at the way Din’s voice faltered, “Tech told me you guys don’t have any, so I was asking Crosshair what it was like, ‘cause I’m in the same speeder now.”

Wrecker could see Hunter’s entire body tense out of the corner of his good eye. His eldest brother’s voice was strained by disbelief when he spoke. “Tech told you what ?”

At least Din didn’t look, or sound, too bothered by it as he went on. “He told me how clones were created. I guess I hadn’t really thought about you guys not having parents before.”

Wrecker looked nervously between the sergeant and the kid. Hunter’s eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy exhale. Wrecker fought to suppress another laugh—because of course Tech would say that. In Tech’s eyes, it was just a fact that they didn’t have parents. Wrecker understood that, but that didn’t mean Din would. Really, they were lucky the kid was so easygoing.

“And on that note…” Hunter grumbled as he rose from his chair. “I think it’s time to wake the rest of the boys up.” He turned and walked towards the bunks. He mumbled something else under his breath, but without enhanced senses like Hunter’s—and a severely damaged eardrum of his own—Wrecker couldn’t hear it.

It took a few heartbeats for Din to break the silence, and when he did, his voice was almost as small as it had been when they’d first introduced themselves to him. “Did I make him upset?”

Wrecker’s entire body filled with both sympathy and panic as he practically dove out of his seat to kneel at Din’s side. “No! No , Mando. Don’t ya’ worry.” Wrecker ruffled the kid’s hair, relieved to see him relaxing at the gesture. “It wasn’t you. Hunter’s just…” Wrecker searched for the right word as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Protective?” Din’s brow wrinkled. “That’s what Crosshair said last night.”

Wrecker nodded at Din’s suggestion. “Yeah, exactly! And since he knows your parents—,” Wrecker inhaled a sharp breath. Here he was, rubbing salt in the wound! “Uh… Hunter just didn’t want anyone to upset ya’.”

Din, much to Wrecker’s surprise, started to smile. “I understand.” He shrugged. “But it didn’t upset me. It made me feel less alone.”

The kid looked down at his trousers and tugged at a loose thread. Wrecker grimaced when he realized how dirty and tattered his red clothing had become.

“We might not have parents, but at least we have each other. Right?”

Wrecker didn’t even think twice as he set his hand on Din’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “That’s right, Mando.”

Din perked up at that. Wrecker started to smile before the kid even said anything. “Echo told me that you guys only give your brothers nicknames. Is that why you gave me one?” 

There was that feeling again, the one that crushed Wrecker’s chest more than any heavy weight he’d ever carried. Every instinct screamed at him to reassure the kid, and there was no good reason to ignore it. “Yeah, kid.” Wrecker nodded. “As long as you’re here, you’re one of us.”

Wrecker waited until Din was smiling again to stand up and sit back in his chair. He still kept his weight forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he beamed at the kid.

“You got another story for me, Mando?”

Din let out an excited gasp that made Wrecker chuckle. “I have the perfect one.”

Din crumpled up the wrapper of his finished ration in his fist as he half-listened to Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair’s “debate” over the explosives by Tech’s bunk. It sounded more like an argument to Din, but he wasn’t one to judge. He’d never had siblings before, anyway.

The other half of Din’s attention was drawn to the cockpit, where Hunter and Echo were sitting together. Din had always been good at reading people’s expressions, at least that’s what his mother had told him, and he could tell even from a distance that the two of them were talking about something serious.

Based on the way they kept stealing looks at Din, he had a feeling that it had to do with him.

Din wasn’t too worried about it, though. He hadn’t known this clone squad long, but because of the way they took him in so quickly, Din really felt like one of them. It was making everything so much easier to deal with.

But Din still had his moments. He was just good at hiding them from the clones. He didn’t want them to worry about him any more than they already were—especially Hunter, who was pinching the bridge of his nose again. Din noticed he did that a lot when he was really worried about something. He hoped it wasn’t about him this time.

Din slid off the chair he’d been sitting on and dared to approach the cockpit. He tiptoed his way over, but Hunter’s gaze snapped over to him before he’d even gotten that close.

Din froze in shock. He was still getting used to everyone’s enhancements, but Hunter’s were the hardest to understand. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to sense… well, everything .

Echo’s stare followed Hunter’s, and Din was relieved when Echo started to smile. “It’s alright, kid.” Echo gestured back with his head. “Come on in.”

Din walked in, sheepish. At least Hunter had started to relax like Echo, too, even as he stood up to offer Din his chair. Din mumbled a shy thank-you as he hopped up onto it. Hunter folded his arms and rested them on the back of the chair, setting Din inside his protective shadow.

“How’re you holding up?” Echo’s brow was wrinkled as he leaned closer to Din’s chair.

Din shrugged. “I feel normal.”

He hoped Hunter’s senses couldn’t somehow detect his lie. It was true in a way, though. Din didn’t really feel anything when he thought about what happened. He was just kinda numb. But even then, he knew the squad was helping him somehow.

Hunter hummed from above him. Din looked up, catching sight of his doubtful expression. “You can tell us the truth, you know.” Hunter’s voice, which was lower than his brothers’, was still soft, which Din appreciated. “We want to help you.”

“You are! I mean, you do . I just…” Din hesitated, pressing his lips together as he let himself think.

Echo patted him on the shoulder with his hand. “Take your time, Mando.” He nodded. “We understand. It’s… a lot to take in.”

Din smiled at the nickname. He couldn’t help it. It made him happy every time he heard it. It started to fade, though, as he remembered the last time he’d talked to Echo. “How long did it take you, Echo?”

Echo lifted his brow. “What do you mean?”

Din looked down at his hands and mumbled, regretful to bring up such a heavy topic. “After what happened to your batchmates.”

Din felt the chair move underneath him, and he realized it was because of Hunter stiffening above him. He was about to ask Hunter if he was okay when Echo responded.

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t really have time to think about it.” Echo was looking off into the distance, as if he was actually seeing everything he was talking about. “Fives and I had just been deployed into the 501st, and we wanted to make a good first impression.” Echo blinked a few times and looked back at Din. “But the nightmares mostly stopped after a standard month or so.”

Din deflated in his seat. “That sounds like a long time.”

“It wouldn’t have been as long if I didn’t try to ignore it.” Echo fixed Din with a serious stare. “I know it’s hard to talk about it, but it really does help.”

Din started to perk up at that. “That’s what Tech said when he let me talk about it last night!”

“Oh, really?” Echo let out a soft huff. “He did that for me, too, you know. It wasn’t long after I joined the squad.”

“Really?”

Din was surprised to hear Hunter’s response. He sounded really shocked. Why wouldn’t Hunter have known about that?

Din was even more confused to see Echo look guiltily at his older—wait, no, technically younger , according to Crosshair—brother. “Yeah. I can, uh, tell you about it another time.”

Din frowned and looked down at his hands. Had Echo told him something that he hadn’t even told his own brothers? Din didn’t make Echo feel like he had to tell him such a sad story, did he?

Suddenly, Din also felt very guilty.

The apology was past Din’s lips before he could help it. “I’m sorry.”

The emotions of the last rotation were finally catching up to him, now, and he was ashamed to lift his head for fear of the two clones seeing the sudden tears in his eyes. They were already so worried about him, he knew that. He didn’t want to make it worse. He couldn’t . Because if he did… maybe they would get rid of him.

And then he’d really be alone.

Din was only pulled out of his dark thoughts when his chair swiveled in a new direction. Hunter was kneeling in front of him, now, and he set a hand on one of Din’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Hunter’s voice was even softer than before.

“Yeah, kid. Why are you apologizing?” Echo sounded surprised—and concerned.

Din winced and hoped that Hunter’s senses didn’t hear it. “I didn’t mean to make you talk about your batchmates, Echo.”

Echo huffed and shook his head. “You didn’t ‘make’ me do or say anything.” He added a nod. “I wanted to tell you.”

Din messed with the loose string on his trousers for what had to be the millionth time today. “But you haven’t even told all your brothers about it, yet.”

After a long stretch of silence, Din dared to look up, afraid to be met with angry faces. Instead, he saw Echo lost in thought, and Hunter returning that glance with a cautious knit in his brow.

Maybe Din shouldn’t have brought that up. He was making a real mess of things, wasn’t he?

More tears started to cloud his eyes. There could only be so many mistakes until the squad had had it with him, for good. If only he had stayed out in the hold with Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair…

“That’s… different, kid.” Hunter finally spoke for Echo, and he let out a steady breath before he looked at Din again. “We haven’t really had time to talk about things like that. Our squad gets a lot of missions, more than any other, really.”

Hunter gave Echo an apologetic glance.

“And we haven’t exactly asked Echo about his batchmates, either, so it’s no one’s fault except our own.”

Echo had only just started to smile at Hunter when a new voice joined the discussion. “I beg to differ.”

All three of their heads turned to Crosshair, who leaned against the hull inside the cockpit with his arms crossed. He had a toothpick balanced between his lips that he removed once the attention was on him.

“Crosshair…” Hunter warned, his brow furrowed.

“Now’s not the time,” Echo added. His eyes were narrowed at Crosshair. “We can talk about this later.” He gestured with his stare towards Din.

“Stop acting like the kid can’t handle this.” Crosshair pushed off the hull and walked closer to them.

Hunter stood and stepped in between Crosshair and Echo, as if he was trying to make a wall between them. Din’s eyes widened.

“He’s made it clear that he can.” Crosshair nodded at Din. “And he’s got a very good point.”

Din looked behind Crosshair when he saw more movement from the hold. Wrecker and Tech had crept closer, and Tech had even left his datapad behind. Din hadn’t been around the squad for long, but he’d been there long enough to know that Tech didn’t go anywhere without his datapad.

Something bad was happening here, and it was Din’s fault.

“Crosshair.” Echo chuckled, but he didn’t sound amused, at least not to Din. “Are you seriously jealous of the kid hearing about my batchmates before you lot?”

“It’s not about jealousy.” Crosshair lifted his hand to point a finger towards Echo. Hunter also raised his hand in response to the movement, setting it firmly against Crosshair’s chestplate. “It’s about trust . And you’ve just made it clear that you trust the kid more than you trust us.”

“This isn’t even about trust.”

Echo finally stood to his cybernetic feet, too, causing Hunter to extend his other hand towards him in caution. Din even saw Wrecker shuffling in closer from behind them all. Din started to shrink in on himself.

This is all my fault.

“This child’s gone through a type of loss that you can’t even begin to imagine.” Echo’s organic hand tightened into a fist at his side. Din whimpered, quickly earning himself Hunter’s observant stare. “I know from experience that what he needs is someone who understands what that’s like. That ’s why he heard my story, not that I have to explain myself to you.”

“So, what?” Crosshair’s sneering voice was actually scary when he was angry. Din flinched just from hearing it. “You were just gonna wait until something happened to one of us to finally open up?”

Hunter growled. “Crosshair, stand down .”

Crosshair didn’t listen to his older brother’s order. “I won’t give my loyalty to someone who’s told a child more about himself than he’s even told his own squad .”

“To be fair, I have at least partially heard this story,” Tech added from somewhere behind Crosshair.

“Not helping, Tech,” Echo hissed.

Din squeezed his eyes shut so hard that it made his head hurt. He could feel the scary, ugly emotions all building up, the floods of tears behind his eyes begging to pour out, because he’d already broken another family after less than a full rotation.

As if breaking up his own wasn’t enough by making his parents give their lives for him.

There was more being said, but it was muffled by Din’s heightened distress, and he wasn’t sure exactly what he interrupted when he suddenly opened his eyes and spoke. “It’s my fault, I’m sorry!”

Din jumped up from the chair. Between that and his outburst, he suddenly had every eye in the cockpit on him.

“Just, please, stop fighting.” Din tried to take a breath, but he let out a hiccup instead. “I don’t wanna ruin another family.”

Din only took a single moment to observe everyone’s reactions to that. Hunter looked equal parts confused and mortified, while Echo’s brow was furrowed in remorse. Wrecker and Tech were sharing an uncertain glance, and Crosshair was looking anywhere but at Din—but Din could still see his mixture of frustration and guilt.

Seeing them like this was scary enough. Din wasn’t ready to hear whatever they would have to say in response, especially if they agreed with him.

Din wove his way through the frozen clone troopers and shot out into the hold. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, although Wrecker had given him a tour of the ship before they’d all gone to sleep, so he at least had some idea. Din passed the bunks, which were a blur to his teary vision, and headed straight to the ladder on the far side of the ship.

He was soon inside the gunner’s nest, if he’d remembered what Wrecker had told him correctly, and he was hitting a dead-end. Din hoisted himself into the chair there, taking care not to accidentally press anything as he hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face there.

Then, for the first time since leaving Aq Vetina, his home , Din cried. He really cried.

There was so much Din had lost that he hadn’t really processed just yet. It was still hard to wrap his head around the fact that he wouldn’t ever see his parents again, or hear their voices telling him they loved him. It was also hard to imagine never going home again, because there was nothing to go back to.

Just like that, everything Din had ever known and loved had vanished. Now, Din was afraid that this would vanish, too, this brotherhood who had welcomed him in with open arms. Who had given him a place to feel safe when he was at his most vulnerable. Who had given him a nickname , a practice that was sacred to them.

Din knew it wasn’t really his fault, or at least anything he himself had done, but it seemed that wherever he went, devastation followed. It had happened on Aq Vetina, and now it was happening here, on this ship. He didn’t want to leave behind the very same people who had saved him, but he didn’t want his bad luck to hurt them, either.

Maybe it was for the best that he left.

“Hey, Mando.”

Din’s head rose from his knees, the fabric now darkened with tear stains, at the sound of Wrecker’s voice. It was a lot quieter and softer than he was used to hearing it.

“Is it okay if I come up there with ya’?”

Din leaned out from behind the chair to look at Wrecker, who had nothing but a warm smile to offer him in return. The others were still in the cockpit, but the door was closed. Din had a feeling that Hunter was giving them a stern talking to about whatever had just happened.

Remembering Wrecker had asked a question, Din nodded. He didn’t trust his voice just yet, especially when it felt like someone had tied a knot really tightly inside of it.

Wrecker’s smile grew as he climbed up. The space instantly felt smaller, thanks to Wrecker’s namesake size and strength, but Din already felt much safer.

So, when Wrecker knelt down next to the chair, Din slid out of it and let himself fall right into Wrecker’s arms in a desperate embrace.

Wrecker held him there tightly, patting his back in a soothing way, but Din still knew somehow that Wrecker was withholding some of his strength to keep himself from crushing him by accident. Din cried whatever tears he had left into Wrecker’s shoulder, and though a part of him said that he should be embarrassed, he really wasn’t. He felt safe here.

After a few minutes, Din had composed himself enough to lean away from Wrecker and wipe his eyes with his sleeves. Wrecker kept his hands on Din’s shoulders, still offering a kind smile even as he spoke.

“I’m sorry about all that, kid.” Wrecker gestured with his head towards the closed cockpit door. “Hunter should be handlin’ ‘em now.”

Din huffed a little at that. “Are they gonna be in trouble?”

Wrecker shrugged. “Crosshair will, if I had to guess.” He shook his head. “But it’s not your fault, Mando.”

Din tucked his chin closer to his chest. “They were fighting because of me.”

“No, kid, they weren’t.” Wrecker gave Din’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to look back up again. “Cross, he’s… big on loyalty. That means a lot to ‘im. Always has.” Wrecker’s gaze searched their surroundings for a second before he went on. “So while the rest of us understand why Echo hasn’t really been ready yet to talk about his brothers, Cross took it more personally.”

Din blinked a few times as the words sunk in. “Oh.” He tightened his hands into fists at his sides. “Are they upset that Echo told me, though?”

Wrecker shook his head. “Nah, we get why he did it. Even Crosshair isn’t upset with you . It’s… a little complicated, yeah, but ya’ shouldn’t feel bad about it.” He looked at Din more seriously. “And you’re definitely not ruinin’ our family.”

Din’s lips started to quiver at that. He wasn’t really sure if it was because of his sudden relief, or because of the tiny part of him that still thought he really was responsible for all of this.

“You wanna know somethin’?” Wrecker’s eyes brightened as he went on. “Hunter and I were just talkin’ about the fact that we haven’t seen the squad so happy ever since we met ya’.”

Din felt the corners of his trembling lips starting to rise. “Really?”

“Really!” Wrecker gave one of Din’s shoulders a pat. “I think ya’ bring out the best in us.”

“You do?”

Wrecker nodded firmly. “I do, kid.” He gestured back towards the cockpit again. “So does Hunter, and I bet the others have been thinkin’ it, too.”

Din’s smile widened enough for it to reach his eyes. “Does that mean you guys won’t be getting rid of me?”

Wrecker’s expression faltered for a moment. “Gettin’ rid of you?”

Din shrugged and looked down. “I just figured, y’know, after making you all so worried all the time and causing some trouble, you’d want to get rid of me.” His brow furrowed. “I think bad luck follows me.”

Wrecker ruffled Din’s hair, causing him to look back up at the soldier again. He had nothing but honesty to offer Din as he spoke in a meaningful tone. “No one wants to get rid of ya’, Mando.” He nodded in further affirmation. “Not a single one of us.”

All Din could do was smile again at that. The words sent a warm rush through him, making him even safer than before. He was so relieved he could’ve fallen down, but he held his ground in front of Wrecker, borrowing from his new brother’s immense strength.

“Now, I think we’ve still got some time to kill.” Wrecker glanced back at the cockpit. The door was still closed. “You got another story for me?”

Din sighed and sat down on the floor of the gunner’s nest across from Wrecker, who was also settling down from his kneeling position. “I’m… not sure.” He twisted his lips as he tried to think of one.

“How ‘bout I tell a story?”

Din’s eyes widened with delight. “What kind of story?”

Wrecker grinned. “You wanna know how Echo joined our squad?”

Din nodded earnestly. “Yes!”

Wrecker chuckled at his enthusiasm and nodded. “Alright, Mando. It all started when we heard from our reg friend, Commander Cody.”

Chapter Text

If eyes could throw vibroblades, then everyone in that cockpit would’ve been dead the second Hunter closed the door. His senses had only just picked up on Wrecker’s nervous swallowing when Hunter whirled on Crosshair.

“What the hell was that?”

Hunter growled, shoving both hands against Crosshair’s chestplate. The sniper stumbled back, his jaw set, but his brow furrowed in what Hunter could only assume was some kind of guilt. Good.

“You heard what I said.” Crosshair’s usual sneer was still there, but Hunter understood his youngest brother well enough to know that he was conflicted.

For Hunter, that wasn’t nearly enough.

“Yeah, I did. And so did the kid.” Hunter pointed at the door. “The kid that you just sent running out of here, crying, after taking the blame for your immaturity in trying to resolve something that should’ve been done in private with Echo.” Hunter jabbed his finger into Crosshair’s chestplate as he spoke.

Crosshair scoffed. “‘Immaturity’?”

Hunter spat back the same words Crosshair had just uttered. “You heard what I said.”

The sergeant wouldn’t stand down, because Crosshair wasn’t the type that he could stand down against. Not in a situation like this. Hunter had learned that early on with Crosshair, and now that this poor child had gotten caught in the sniper’s crossfire, Hunter was even less relenting than usual.

Hunter was about to start resolving things with Crosshair the way he most often had to, which likely would have resulted in some harmless bloodshed between the two of them, when Echo stepped in and set a hand on Hunter’s shoulder.

“Easy, Sarge.” Echo tapped Hunter’s pauldron and narrowed his eyes at Crosshair. “This is my fight to pick, not yours.”

“That’s not true.” Hunter turned on Echo this time and leveled him with a fierce look. “I’m the one who’s responsible for this squad, and right now, that includes the kid. Your little argument just looped the kid into all this, which means it now falls under my jurisdiction.”

Hunter’s gaze flickered between Crosshair and Echo. Both their heads lowered in shame.

“So, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

Hunter took Echo by the shoulder first, forcing him back towards the pilot’s chair and pushing him down into it. Echo let himself go willingly, though he held his arm and his scomp up in surrender.

“We’re gonna sit here…”

Hunter walked back over to Crosshair, repeating what he’d done to Echo by shoving him into the co-pilot’s seat.

“... until you two have worked out whatever the hell this is.”

Hunter gestured with his hand between the two of them. Echo and Crosshair glanced at one another, leading Echo to shrug at him with an annoyed furrow in his brow.

“You tell me, Crosshair.” Echo frowned and sat back in the chair. “Didn’t even know we had a problem until a few minutes ago.”

Crosshair hissed. “That’s the problem.” He narrowed his eyes at Echo. “You don’t even care enough to see it.”

Echo’s brow shot up. “To see what?”

Crosshair leaned forward in his seat, dangerously close to where Echo was beside him. “That you’re not willing to be honest with us.”

Echo scoffed. “‘Honest’, huh? Is that what it is?” The ARC trooper shook his head. “If you’re looking for an apology for not telling you about my trauma, then you’re not gonna get it.” He crossed his arms and looked away from Crosshair. “Might as well stop trying.”

“Then can I at least know why Tech was more worthy of hearing about it than the rest of us?”

As somber and vulnerable as Crosshair’s words were, they were still delivered with the sniper’s trademark ferocity. Everyone in the cockpit froze, and Hunter didn’t have to strain to hear the way every heartbeat sped up at the words.

The sergeant sighed and palmed his forehead. He almost wished this was just another petty, brotherly squabble, and not something that was making Crosshair more upset than he’d been since the last time they had to visit the longnecks.

“I’m, uh, gonna go check up on the kid,” Wrecker announced to the quiet room. No later did he grant himself access through the cockpit door to step out, just for it to seal itself shut again behind him.

Hunter would have protested Wrecker’s quick exit if he didn’t agree with his brother’s sentiment. He started to kick himself for not sending someone, or even himself, after the kid earlier.

It was a cruel reminder that he and his squad weren’t made for raising children like him.

“In regard to your latest statement, Crosshair,” Tech was the next one to brave the cockpit’s daunting silence, “it was more a matter of convenience than anything else.”

Crosshair gave his eyebrow an unimpressed raise. “‘Convenience’?”

“Or… I suppose I should say ‘chance’,” Tech clarified, setting a hand on his chin to calmly muse—as if he wasn’t holding the emotional weight of the entire squad in every single word he said. “I happened to overhear Echo struggling while on watch one evening, and after extending an invitation for him to formally discuss the matter, he somewhat reluctantly accepted.”

“Yeah.” Echo was rubbing the back of his neck, his paler skin slightly reddened, as he confirmed Tech’s statement. “I, uh, wasn’t doing so good those first few nights after Skako. Thought it might help to talk about it when Tech came ‘round to check up on me.”

Crosshair frowned at that, but Hunter read it as one of concern rather than anger. “You were struggling, and you didn’t tell us?”

Echo’s embarrassment was instantly exchanged for clear frustration as his head snapped in the sniper’s direction. “At the end of the day, Crosshair, we’re troopers. As an ARC, I was specifically trained not to let feelings like that get in the way of my day-to-day life and missions.”

He jabbed his scomp in Crosshair’s direction.

“Would you have wanted to unload that burden onto your brand-new brothers when they were still making up their minds about you?”

Hunter shook his head before he could help it. “Echo, that’s not what we—.”

“Hunter,” Echo held up his organic hand towards Hunter, “save your breath and your pity. Trust me, I don’t need it.”

Hunter’s jaw snapped shut. Ignoring the screaming urge within him to reassure Echo was as difficult as blocking out the galaxy’s strongest waves of electromagnetic interference, but the truth of Echo’s words managed to conquer it. Unfortunately, he was right; it had taken Hunter and his brothers a bit of time to truly accept Echo as one of their own. Clearly, Crosshair hadn’t even crossed that line, yet.

Echo turned his attention back to the sniper. “You wanna know what it was like?”

Echo stood from his chair, his face hardened. The sudden movement made Hunter take a surprised step back from where he stood in between the two of them.

“Look around this room, and imagine that every single one of these men, your brothers, died, except for you.”

Hunter had to close his eyes at the mere thought of it. He squeezed them tight enough to make his temples throb.

“And one of ‘em died without you even being there to watch their back.”

Echo paused, and the weight that sat between his words and the rest of the cockpit was heavier than anything even Wrecker could ever carry.

“Would you wanna tell your brand-new squad about how they all got picked off one-by-one?”

The silence that followed was so thick that Hunter could nearly sense it the way he could with just about anything tangible. When Hunter reopened his eyes, he could see that even Tech was motionless and utterly speechless, not bothering to adjust the goggles that had no doubt started to slip down his nose from the way his head was tucked down towards the floor. Crosshair’s expression remained tight, but his sagging posture admitted defeat.

Echo took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he reopened them. “It’s something I hope none of you ever have to experience.” He peered down at Crosshair again. “But I hope you can at least understand now why this isn’t the kind of topic I can just converse about over a cup of caf.”

Echo eased himself back down into his seat. Hunter spared another look at Tech, who was finally pushing his goggles up the bridge of his nose with a practiced finger. Crosshair slightly adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter—though his arms remained crossed over his chest. Hunter allowed himself to take a steady breath just as Echo had done while the ARC trooper continued.

“I never wanted to have to tell a kid like Din about what happened before I told you lot.” Echo’s brown eyes had since softened with meaning as he nodded. “But he needed to hear it. He needed to know that someone else who had experienced the same kind of loss could survive that pain.”

Echo’s gaze shifted from Crosshair, who had gone as rigid as durasteel, to Hunter. The pleading look in his eyes was all Hunter needed to speak up. “How’d the kid take it when you told him?”

Echo shrugged. “I think it helped. He, uh… he could at least go back to sleep after hearing about it.”

“Not for long, unfortunately.” All heads turned to Tech as he spoke. The specialist looked a lot less concerned than Hunter himself felt. “It was shortly after your own watch shift that he woke and lamented about ‘seeing’ what had happened whenever he attempted rest.”

Echo’s brow furrowed. “Is that when you let him talk about it?”

“That is correct. Considering the fact he did not return to the cockpit again, I presume that method worked.” Tech adjusted his goggles before turning towards the sealed cockpit door. “As this is now the second occasion of such proving efficiency… I shall make note of it.”

He stepped out, presumably to grab his datapad from the hold. Once the door had closed again, Hunter sighed and crossed his arms over his chestplate, facing Echo and Crosshair with a raised brow.

“Listen. Obviously, whatever’s going on here has to do with a lot more than just a story about Echo’s batchmates.”

The sniper and ARC trooper cut their gazes at one another before looking away. Hunter blew out a sharper breath from his nostrils.

“I’m not telling you to somehow solve the problem right now and move on, but the reality is that the longer you two wait to do it, the more danger it puts the rest of us in.” Hunter watched the severity of his words dawn upon them. “Trust issues can make a squad vulnerable out in the field. Thankfully, you two haven’t let that happen yet, but who knows when it could catch up to you. To us.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes as he looked between his two brothers. As he went on, however, he softened more, revealing the genuine care behind his words.

“That’s why I’m asking you not only as your sergeant, but also as your brother, to have this worked out by the end of our next mission.”

Crosshair couldn’t help himself. He was sneering at his older brother sarcastically in a heartbeat. “Is that an order?”

Hunter lifted a single brow, unimpressed. “You know what? Yeah. It is.” He huffed. “And the deadline gives me plenty of time to figure out the consequences for any noncompliance.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and leaned back, practically chomping on his toothpick in frustration. “Of course you’re pulling rank.”

Hunter frowned. “Something I only do when I absolutely have to, for the good of our squad as a unit.” He lowered his arms and took a step forward, sizing up Crosshair first. “You good with that, trooper?”

Crosshair sighed, his jaw tightening as he obviously fought off another eye-roll. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter turned to Echo next, who had been unusually quiet the entire time Hunter had spoken. “Corporal?”

Echo looked ashamed as he returned Hunter’s glance in earnest and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Hunter stepped back to where he was and crossed his arms again. “Because we’ve got bigger problems at hand.” His gaze met Echo’s, which flashed with understanding.

Crosshair, however, had clearly only started eavesdropping on their earlier conversation once Echo’s batchmates were brought up. “What ‘bigger problems’?”

Hunter parted his lips to speak, but the door to the cockpit wooshed open before he could get anything out. Tech was stepping back inside with his datapad in hand, though he remained in the threshold as he gestured with his head to something behind him. “I believe Wrecker’s endeavor was a success.”

Hunter looked to see Wrecker carrying Din’s small form upon his shoulder. The sergeant’s chest constricted at the sight, caught between guilt about the kid and pride for his younger brother’s clear ability to soothe him.

Wrecker, noticing the attention he was suddenly getting, set a finger over his lips to signal silence before he offered a thumbs up. Hunter nodded and smiled at his younger brother, gesturing first to the bunks and then to the cockpit. Wrecker returned the nod and focused on settling Din inside his empty bunk.

“Kid must be exhausted,” Echo muttered, staying quiet as the door to the cockpit remained open. “He and Wrecker haven’t even been out there that long.”

Hunter let out a soft breath, running the back of his thumb along the part of his forehead just underneath his bandana. “Hopefully, he can stay asleep this time.”

Hunter might not have lost any brothers the way Echo had, but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with the night terrors that came from something like that. The close calls Hunter’s brothers had in the past were enough to haunt him for weeks—months, even. Hunter had dreamt about the catastrophic mission that had left Wrecker scarred with one less eye and a barely-functioning eardrum for almost an entire cycle straight.

And the boys still thought Hunter avoided sleep solely for the purpose of getting stuff done. He certainly wasn’t going to tell them otherwise.

But what Hunter didn’t want to stand for was this poor kid not being able to get decent rest because of this harrowing, traumatic event, though he knew it was a lot to ask for. He would be ready to comfort the kid the moment he needed it, no matter how long it went on.

Except for the fact that they were only supposed to be together for more rotation, if that. Coruscant was quickly approaching.

That train of thought, along with Crosshair’s aggressively curious voice, brought Hunter back to the situation at hand. “What are our ‘bigger problems’, Hunter?”

Hunter looked over his shoulder and saw Wrecker on approach. His younger brother had tucked Din into his military grade bedsheets and even eased Lula into his arms. As lighthearted as it made Hunter feel, he forced himself to focus on their current predicament.

“Now that we’re all gathered here again…” Hunter waited until Tech and Wrecker had both fully entered the cockpit to secure the door closed behind them again. “We need to talk about the kid.”

Hunter remained standing by the door, letting Tech and Wrecker take the only vacant seats left. Tech was buried in his datapad on Crosshair’s side, while Wrecker stayed by Echo.

“What about him?” Crosshair raised his brow as he flipped his toothpick pensively.

Hunter let out a steady breath. “Well, I was talking to Wrecker at the end of our sleep cycle, and to Echo before we were interrupted,” he shot Crosshair a look, “and it’s becoming clear that we all feel a certain way about this kid.” Hunter’s gaze was searching as he sought to clarify his words.

“I presume you are referring to the increased pressure in our thoracic cavities, along with the inexplicable pool of dread collecting in our abdomens?” Tech had finally lifted his attention from his datapad, along with his forefinger.

Hunter blinked a few times before chuckling. “I mean, yeah, that’s how it feels physically.” He shook his head. “It’s like a strong sense, a duty even, to protect him. And a sense of dread whenever I think about leaving him on Coruscant.”

“That’s how I’ve been feelin’, too,” Wrecker agreed with a nod.

“Same here,” Echo added.

“I concur.” Tech’s nose was back in his datapad.

Crosshair grunted his own agreement.

Hunter’s shoulders weighed just a little bit lighter at the confirmation of the feeling being mutual. “Okay. So, we all agree.” He nodded and shifted his weight between his feet. “And do we also agree that it’s weird we’re all feeling this same feeling?”

“Say ‘feeling’ one more time,” Crosshair muttered.

One of Tech’s more harmless tools was bouncing off the sniper’s temple before Hunter could even level him with a look. Crosshair growled in Tech’s direction as he rubbed his head.

“I mean, it seems funny to me,” Wrecker spoke up. “Funny as in ‘weird,’ like you said.”

“We are aware,” Tech assured him without looking up from his datapad.

“This can’t be a coincidence.” Echo looked around the room, but most pointedly at Tech. “Right?”

“No one else survived.” Hunter’s grim reminder earned quick silence and stillness from the room. “He was the sole survivor of that place. And we just happened to be directly over it when General Ti reached out to us.”

“Hunter.” Crosshair let out an amused scoff. “You’re not actually trying to suggest that—.”

“If I may,” Tech cut in, finally looking up from his datapad and holding it for everyone to see. “I’ve actually been conducting vast research on phenomena such as this, and contrary to whatever you were about to say, Crosshair, I do believe that, based on the accounts of those like the Jedi and other Force-sensitives, this could indeed be a Force-related feeling.” Tech adjusted his goggles as the shocked faces around him remained silent. “Should one believe in such a mystical force to begin with.”

“Of course we believe in it.” Echo’s quick response was firm. “We’ve literally seen the Jedi use it!”

“I’m certain you have witnessed far more of it than we have.” Tech nodded at the ARC. “Considering you once served alongside General Skywalker.”

“Tech.” Hunter’s eyes closed, and he held two fingers up to the bridge of his nose as he attempted to get things back on track—and to make sure that he wasn’t misunderstanding his brother’s words. “You’re really saying that this thing we’re feeling is… the Force?”

“Not necessarily.”

Hunter reopened his eyes to look at Tech as he spoke, but kept his fingers where they were. They were helping him fight back a stress-induced migraine, which would at least be a pleasant break from his usual sensory migraines.

“That is merely one possibility. This could be a simple case of coincidence that is uniquely layered, though the magnitude with which it has happened seems to point towards another underlying factor. Hence the Force theory.”

“Or,” Crosshair hissed, “we’re all just over-exhausted from not getting to rest on Kamino for countless rotations, and the reality is we feel bad for the kid.” He raised his brow and looked around the group. “Are you hearing yourselves? The Force?”

“Whatever it is,” Hunter lowered his fingers from his head and set his hands on his hips. “We always lead with our gut. And if all our guts are saying the same thing, then why wouldn’t we listen to it now?”

Crosshair flicked his toothpick at Hunter, causing it to bounce off his chestplate unceremoniously. “Because the implication of keeping a child around isn’t something we should even be considering.”

“That’s the thing, Hunter.” Even Echo seemed to be in agreement with Crosshair. “He’s a kid. What would we do with him if we didn’t bring him to Coruscant? Is there supposed to be some other place we bring him instead that makes us… feel better? We sure as hell can’t bring him with us to Kamino.”

“Uh…” Wrecker’s sudden uncertainty caused everyone’s heads to whip towards him. He was fumbling with his large hands in his lap as he gave the group a tentative look. “I might have somethin’ to add.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. “Wrecker… what are you hiding?”

Wrecker’s eyes widened. “I’m not hidin’ anythin’!” He jutted his thumb towards the cockpit’s closed door. “But the kid just told me that he thinks we wanna get rid of ‘im.”

Everyone’s expressions dropped at that. Hunter didn’t even need to observe them all to know how much those words devastated them. He could hear it in all their heartbeats.

“What did you say to him?” Hunter fully turned in Wrecker’s direction. “Does he know we’re supposed to be dropping him off?”

“No, no, I didn’t say nothin’ about Coruscant!” Wrecker held his hands up in surrender. “I just told ‘im the truth. Well, the truth that I could tell ‘im.”

Echo leaned forward in his chair, closer to Wrecker. “Which was?”

“That none of us want to get rid of ‘im.” Wrecker held out his hands, gesturing to the rest of the squad. “Which is true, right? That’s what we’re talkin’ about right now!”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Hunter glanced towards the cockpit door, “he wants to stay with us.”

“That’s how it sounded to me, yeah.”

“Kriff.” The curse tumbling from Echo’s lips won his attention from just about everyone in the cockpit. The ARC was running his organic fingertips over his brow as he let out a heavy sigh. “We can’t just leave the kid on Coruscant now. We can’t.”

“And why is that?” Crosshair had a new toothpick set between his lips as he raised an eyebrow at Echo.

Hunter scoffed. “Crosshair.” He furrowed his brow as he leveled his youngest brother with a firm glare. “Stop acting like you don’t want the kid here. Or should I tell everyone what I saw during the sleep cycle?”

Crosshair blanched, but only for a second. His expression was soon twisting into a menacing snarl that tried, and failed, to intimidate his eldest brother. “You wouldn’t.”

Hunter was about to challenge him further when Wrecker stepped in. “Oh! Are you talkin’ about how he—?”

Both Hunter and Crosshair shushed Wrecker at the same time. They still exchanged a hostile glance with one another.

“Uh… what’s happening here?” Echo looked between the three of them with a confused lift of his brow.

“Key information is being withheld,” Tech answered, his tone betraying his amusement.

Crosshair threw his new toothpick aside and stood from his chair. “Listen.” His voice was a sharp hiss that he directed towards Hunter as he pointed his finger in the sergeant’s direction. “If you really cared about the kid, then you would agree that he can’t stay here.” Crosshair pressed both his gloved palms against his chest plate. “We’re soldiers, Hunter. Wake up!”

The sniper stepped close enough to give Hunter’s shoulder a rough shove. He fell back a single step, scowling at Crosshair as he continued.

“Bringing this kid with us into war zones won’t do anything but give him more trauma. He needs to be somewhere safe.”

Hunter couldn’t stay silent anymore. “But what if Coruscant isn’t safe?” He tightened his jaw at the mere thought of what he was saying becoming reality. “What if we leave him there, and the next place he’s shipped off to puts him in more danger?”

“Coruscant is dangerous enough as it is,” Echo added, nodding in Hunter’s direction. “You should hear the stories from the CG.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard ‘em,” Wrecker assured the ARC trooper. He chuckled heartily. “We’ve even been a part of some of ‘em.”

Echo’s brow shot up as his head snapped towards Wrecker. “You what?”

“There are not as many stories as Wrecker’s statement has implied,” Tech warned the curious ARC. Hunter went back to pinching the bridge of his nose as the conversation quickly digressed. “There are, however, still more than the average—.”

“Focus, lads.”

Hunter steadied himself with a breath and looked around the room with his typical sergeant stare. He only continued when each eye in the cockpit was on him again, and he was pleased to see that Crosshair was even sitting back down in his chair.

“We’re clearly out of our depth here, so let’s look at this from a familiar perspective.” Hunter nodded, though whether the gesture was for them or himself, he didn’t really know. “Keeping the kid safe is our mission objective. What things do we know that risk us completing the objective?”

“There are several.” Tech couldn’t help himself, but no one seemed to object to him answering, anyway. “The first is, evidently, our collective hesitation about the child’s safety on Coruscant, although it’s worth noting that this is, as yet, an unexplained phenomenon. In terms of more tangible factors, there is Coruscant’s rather questionable criminal activity, particularly the lower an individual goes into the city.”

Crosshair offered a roll of his eyes dramatic enough that Hunter was genuinely surprised they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head. “A refugee organization isn’t just gonna drop the kid off in Coruscant’s lower levels to fend for himself.”

“Be that as it may,” Tech didn’t miss a beat, “criminal activity on Coruscant, in addition to residing within the heart of the Republic, a prime target of our adversaries during wartime, both make for a potentially unsafe atmosphere for the child.”

“We also know it’s not just physical safety we have to consider.” Echo spoke with a tone that was heavy with personal experience, and his downcast gaze further proved it. “The kid has bonded quickly with us in a very traumatic time for him. Especially knowing now that he already thinks we want to get rid of him… doing that will worsen his sense of abandonment and loneliness.”

“Which would thus lead to more intensified trauma.” Tech hummed with consideration as he nodded at Echo. “That is certainly something to consider.”

Hunter closed his eyes and focused, visualizing the information in his head the way he always did with missions plans and briefings. Coruscant poses a problem for crime and other war-related dangers. The kid’s trauma will probably get worse if we leave him. We all have a really bad feeling about leaving him there as it is.

“We were also in the right place at the right time for the kid’s rescue.” Hunter spoke the final piece of the unsolved puzzle aloud, reopening his eyes as he did so. “It doesn’t have to mean something,” he raised an eyebrow at Crosshair, anticipating that the sniper would make another snide comment about it, “but it could.”

“So…” Wrecker ran a large hand thoughtfully over his head. He glanced hopefully in Hunter’s direction. “What’s the plan, Sarge?”

Hunter sighed and shifted his stance, crossing his arms over his chestplate as he mused upon their options for a few more precious seconds. This was vastly different from the plans Hunter typically had to make, whether it be for battle, covert ops, or whatever else they were tasked with, but the squad had also successfully carried out missions with way less information—and much less of an idea of what they actually wanted to do.

Hell, even Echo’s rescue on Skako Minor had been operating off less intel than this.

“Here’s what we’ll do.” Hunter made eye contact with each one of his brothers individually before he went on. “Listening to our instincts has gotten us this far in the war.”

“With a flawless success rate, nonetheless,” Tech chimed in.

Hunter flashed him an appreciative glance. He was willing to forgive the interruption in exchange for the hopeful observation. “Exactly. So, if anything, the stats say we really shouldn’t change our method.”

“Which means?” Crosshair drawled, his eyes narrowed in caution.

“We’ll take things one decision at a time as far as the kid goes. Whatever this… feeling is, we’ll keep listening to it, until one choice takes us to the next.”

Echo lifted his brow curiously. “So, what’s the consensus on Coruscant?”

Hunter shrugged. “I think it’s pretty clear.” He looked at Wrecker and nodded. “We’re not leaving the kid there.”

Wrecker cheered, punching an enthusiastic fist in the air, and was instantly shushed by the entire room. Hunter spared a look at the cockpit door that was still closed behind him, and when he reached his senses out past the metal barrier, he was relieved to hear that Din’s heartbeat hadn’t changed from its restful pace.

“Sorry,” Wrecker whispered, although there wasn’t really a need to be that quiet. “I’m just excited to have Mando around a little longer!”

“Didn’t you tell Coruscant we’re coming?” Crosshair still wasn’t fully convinced, although Hunter had clearly heard the relieved exhale he had attempted to hide when the sergeant had announced his decision. “They won’t take a sudden redirect well. Not when it involves a kid.”

“Yeah,” Hunter nodded in Echo’s direction, “we were talking about that earlier, too.”

Crosshair lifted a single eyebrow, but Hunter didn’t miss the flash of betrayal in his piercing gaze as it flickered over at the ARC. Echo, in return, offered the sniper a wary look.

Hunter was too tired to deal any further with that. He stole a look at the chrono, which was still adjusted to the timezone of their last mission’s planet, and then observed how much time they had left until they got to the Republic capital.

“We’ll discuss plans later. It’s time for the sleep cycle.” The sergeant set his hands on his hips. “I’ll take first watch. The rest of you, stay quiet when you’re settling in. We don’t want the kid waking up.”

Hunter then turned to Wrecker, who looked as if he was about to ask the question that the sergeant was already about to answer.

“Wrecker, take my bunk for now.”

Wrecker hesitated before he let out a groan. “But… your bunk is up high.”

Hunter shrugged casually. “You could always switch with Tech.”

Both Tech and Wrecker answered at the same time. “No.”

Hunter didn’t bother fighting off his amused smile. “That’s what I thought.” His hand hovered over the controls for the cockpit door as he leveled them all with one more serious stare. “Remember, stay quiet.”

The squad nodded, but not without Crosshair rolling his eyes first. Hunter, as usual, didn’t take it personally. The sniper was just eager to get out of the cockpit, where he’d been confined for a longer amount of time than usual.

Hunter opened the door and let his squadmates file out. Crosshair was first, reaching the threshold in just a few strides, with Wrecker and Tech trailing him. Echo stopped by Hunter and set a firm hand on the sergeant’s shoulder.

“Sorry about that outburst earlier, Hunter.” Echo sounded genuinely apologetic as his expressive stare found the sergeant’s.

The corners of Hunter’s mouth rose just the slightest amount as he nodded at the corporal. “I understand.” He cut his gaze towards the bunks and lowered his voice even more. “Cross can be… hard to get through to,” that was an understatement, “but once you learn not to take the bait, it gets a little easier.”

Echo sighed. “Hell, I get it. It’s a damn effective way of protecting yourself.”

Hunter huffed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” He exhaled a light breath and gestured with his head to the hold. “Now go get some rest.”

Echo gave Hunter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before the sergeant could move. “Make sure you get some rest tonight too, Hunter.”

The sergeant simply nodded at Echo, refusing to make any promises. That was enough for the ARC, who then dropped his hand from Hunter’s shoulder and set off towards the bunks. Hunter watched him and his brothers for a few more heartbeats before he stepped forward to plop down into the pilot’s chair. He pulled his blade from its sheath and started twirling it.

There was way too much going on in Hunter’s mind for him to even think about getting a single wink of sleep, at least anytime soon. He had to start planning for Coruscant, and once that was done, he had to think about next steps, because Crosshair had been right: he didn’t want to take a child like Din into war zones, much less the kind of missions they were typically assigned.

Hunter sighed and closed his eyes. What am I getting myself into?

Hunter hated caf.

He didn’t have any other options, though. The caffeinated tea he liked had run out nearly a full standard month ago, and despite whatever nonverbal reassurance he had given Echo, there was no way he was falling asleep tonight. His only option for staying alert was the caf that Echo always kept in high stock.

But that didn’t mean Hunter had to like it. Its bitterness was only multiplied by Hunter’s sensitive taste buds, making him scrunch up his face every time he drew a sip from it.

He was still in the cockpit, his feet now kicked up without Tech around to say anything about it, when he heard rustling from the bunks. Hunter froze and sat up a bit straighter, straining his ears to listen for each distinct heartbeat.

Sure enough, it was the newest out of the five out there that was speeding back up from its restful state. Hunter knew he ought to be disappointed by that, because the kid needed all the rest he could get, but he had also been hoping to talk to Din alone before they acted any further on their plans.

Hunter heard Din making his way to the cockpit long before the kid actually got there. He held the cup of caf between both hands as he spun in his chair to face Din, who froze once the sergeant’s gaze fell on him.

“It’s alright.” Hunter’s voice was low enough to keep the others from stirring as he gestured with his head to the co-pilot’s chair. “You can come in.”

Din blinked in surprise before he accepted Hunter’s gentle invitation. “Was I being loud?”

Hunter shook his head as the kid hopped up into the chair beside his. “Not at all.” He nodded towards the bunks. “None of ‘em are stirring in the slightest.”

Din’s eyes were wide in hardly-concealed amazement. “Whoa. Crosshair was right.” His hand circled his own ear. “You can hear really good.”

Hunter chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll give him that.”

The sergeant then turned to the controls. He found the one for the cockpit door and slid it shut, just to ensure their continued conversation didn’t actually rouse the others. Hunter then turned back to Din with a more serious expression.

“I’ve got an important question for you, Din.”

The kid’s gaze flickered with curiosity. “I’ll answer it.”

Hunter nodded with a small smile. “Thanks.” He glanced down at the caf that sat between his hands and let out a soft exhale. “But first, I gotta’ be honest with you.”

The sergeant looked back up at Din. The child gave him a small nod, encouraging Hunter to continue.

“Right now, we’re on our way to Coruscant, so we can bring you to a group of people who can take care of you.” Din’s face already started to fall. “It wasn’t our idea. This is just standard procedure for when we come across survivors during the war.”

Hunter leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees and balancing his caf in his hands as he held Din’s gaze.

“But we don’t want to leave you there. We were talking while you were sleeping, and we decided that we want to try to find a way to keep you around, at least for now.” Hunter tilted his head, nodding at the kid as he tightened his expression in soft severity. “That decision isn’t up to us, though. It’s up to you.”

Din looked as if he was about to burst with both relief and excitement, but before he could, Hunter held up a hand to keep him quiet for a few more moments.

“Just know, kid, that we’re at war right now. You’re still much older than we were when we started training, but we didn’t even leave our homeworld to fight until we were at least double your age.” Hunter’s brow rose. “We’re not gonna put you in any further danger, not if we can avoid it, but staying with us alone is dangerous. I want you to consider that before you decide.”

Din shrugged. “Well, you guys kept me safe at home. You’re probably better at that than those other people would be, right?”

Hunter couldn’t help letting out an amused huff. “You’d hope so, considering we’re the ones fighting the battles.”

“Exactly!” Din forced himself to take a deep breath, as if he truly wanted to convey his own seriousness to Hunter before he went on. “I do want to stay with you, Hunter.”

Hunter’s chest warmed in a way that somehow proved to him that they were, in fact, making the right call here. Still, he had to truly confirm it. “Are you sure?”

Din nodded, as if this was the easiest decision to make in the entire galaxy. “I’m sure.”

Hunter smiled. “Alright, then.” He leaned back in the chair. “Welcome to the Bad Batch, Mando.”

Din tilted his head at that. “The Bad Batch?”

Hunter’s smile transformed into an amused smirk. “That’s what we call ourselves.”

“The Bad Batch…” Din repeated the name with more reverence. He glanced up at Hunter with bright eyes. “I really am one of you now, like Wrecker said!”

“That’s right.” Hunter exchanged some of his lightheartedness for severity again as he leveled Din with one of his sergeant stares. “That means, cadet, that you listen to the orders you get from your sergeant, your corporal, and your troopers without question or hesitation. Do I make myself clear?”

Din snapped into a salute that wasn’t bad for someone who hadn’t been training to do it since literal birth. “Yes, sir!”

Hunter nodded in satisfaction and approval. “Good.” He opened the cockpit door again and gestured to it with his head. “Now go get some more sleep.”

Since Din’s heart rate hadn’t elevated before he last woke, Hunter knew the kid hadn’t been having any nightmares yet, which was the only reason why he was okay with sending Din right back to bed. The kid, however, seemed hesitant to do so.

Hunter furrowed his brow. “That’s an order.”

Din stood right away. “Yes, sir!” His voice was a mere whisper-shout before he all but ran out of the cockpit and towards the bunks.

Hunter chuckled to himself and turned back towards the viewport. Although he’d had his own semblance of authority among his batchmates as the eldest growing up, he hadn’t earned the rank of sergeant until they were older, which hadn’t given him the ability to deal out orders to them as cadets. Hunter wasn’t, and never would be, one to pull rank unless it was absolutely necessary, but it was amusing to see a kid like Din follow his orders so eagerly.

Hunter drew a sip of his caf, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t his tea, and nearly spat it out when the bitter taste touched his tongue. He squeezed his eyes closed and fought against a growl as he forced it down his throat.

The bitterness of the caf was a rude awakening to the sergeant that Din’s agreement to staying with them was far from a solution. Hunter still had to come up with a plan for Coruscant, and then he had to decide what they would do from there. At least they had some time on Kamino before they would be shipped out again.

He sighed and propped his feet back up onto the console. All he could do for now was let the caffeine work through his bloodstream as he prepared for Coruscant—and Echo’s lecture about avoiding sleep once again.

Chapter Text

There were two things Echo noticed when he woke up. First, Wrecker was still in Hunter’s bunk, which more than likely meant the sergeant was still awake. Second, there was already a pot of caf brewed, even if it was lukewarm enough for Echo to have to heat it up.

Echo sighed into the steaming cup in his organic hand. Clearly, the ARC’s words about rest had gone right into one of Hunter’s sensitive ears and immediately slipped out the other.

Sure enough, when he stepped inside the cockpit, Echo caught sight of the sergeant in question sitting in the pilot’s seat, his boots kicked up on the console. Echo huffed to himself, aware that Hunter could more than likely hear him. The sergeant was lucky it wasn’t Tech approaching to come yell at him for getting scuffs and other debris on the controls.

“So.” Echo cleared his throat as he lowered himself into the co-pilot’s chair, watching carefully as he swished his caf around the inside of his cup. “Usually, when someone tells you that you should do something, and then you nod at them, that means you understand what they’re saying.”

Hunter simply hummed and continued flipping his knife in his hand. “I did understand.”

Echo narrowed his eyes and looked over at the sergeant. “And?”

Hunter furrowed his brow and cut his gaze at Echo. “And what?”

Echo rolled his eyes. “And you didn’t take my advice because…?”

“Because I had things to do.”

Echo raised an eyebrow. “For the entire sleep cycle?”

“Yeah.” Hunter shrugged, though his knife still maintained its perfect, practiced balance between his fingers. “Sometimes planning takes a while.”

“Uh-huh.” Echo drew a sip from his cup. “That’s why you forced yourself to stay awake with caf, even though you hate caf.”

“Exactly.” Hunter caught the hilt of the blade in his hand and fixed Echo with a pointed look. “You’re acting like this isn’t normal.”

“Because it isn’t.” Echo frowned at the sergeant. “It never has been.” Hunter parted his lips to argue, but Echo held up his scomp link to stop him. “It’s normal for you, but it shouldn’t be. You’re just as bad as Rex.”

Hunter’s jaw snapped shut. As much as Echo knew Hunter admired the captain, the entire Batch still wasn’t keen on being compared to regs. Hunter’s displeased reaction proved that Echo’s words were true.

“Now that we’re taking in the kid, too…” Echo summoned the eldest-brother voice he often found himself using with these boys and ignored the phantom sound of Fives’ amused snickering in the back of his mind. “You’ve got an example to set.”

“I can set a good example.” Hunter pointed with the blade of his knife towards the open threshold of the cockpit. “I raised them just fine before you came along.”

Echo’s brow shot up in amusement before he let out a soft breath. “Okay, fine.” He leaned forward, resting his scomp on his knee. “But remember what you said to Crosshair and I yesterday about trust issues in the field.”

The ARC had successfully captured Hunter’s full attention. The sergeant sheathed his blade and set his boots back on the durasteel floor. “What does this have to do with trust issues?”

Echo hid his smirk by drawing another sip of his caf. “You said they can make a squad vulnerable out in the field, and that we never know when they can catch up to us.”

Hunter’s gaze lowered at Echo’s words. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“You think your senses are gonna be more enhanced with a lack of sleep?” Echo chuckled into his caf. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Hunter let out an exhale of defeat. “Fine. When we get to Kamino, I’ll catch up on sleep.”

Echo leaned back, victorious. “I’ll be holding you to that, Sergeant, as your corporal.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You can’t give me orders.”

“That’s what you think.”

The two of them chuckled before falling into brief yet comfortable silence. Hunter went back to spinning his knife as Echo stared out at the flashing lights of hyperspace. After a few more heartbeats, Echo decided to let his curiosity get the best of him.

“Did you at least come up with a plan?”

Hunter hummed and nodded. Echo waited a few seconds, but the sergeant didn’t elaborate. He rolled his eyes and held back a sigh.

“What is it?”

Hunter suddenly stopped fidgeting with his knife again and froze. Echo quickly identified the behavior Hunter exhibited when he was using his senses. “You’ll find out when I brief the whole squad.” He slid the knife back into its sheath. “The kid’s awake.”

They both turned around in their chairs at the same time. Sure enough, Din had just stepped out of Wrecker’s bunk, and he rubbed his bleary eyes as he approached the cockpit. Echo couldn’t help chuckling to himself at the kid’s muss of bed-ruffled brown hair.

“Hey, kid.” Hunter was clearly just as amused as Echo at the sight of Din, if the warmth of his voice was anything to go off of. It was confirmed when the kid got close enough for Hunter to tousle a hand through his hair. “Looks like you slept well.”

Din nodded. “A lot better than last time.” He yawned and turned to Echo, his brown eyes brightening as he did so. “Hi, Echo!”

Echo’s chest lit aflame with warmth. “Hey, Mando.”

Din smiled at the nickname before he did a double-take back at Hunter. The sergeant’s brow creased as the child tilted his head up at him. “Did you ever go to sleep?”

Echo’s brow shot up as he offered Hunter an amused grin that was half-concealed behind his cup of caf. “Told you.”

Hunter let out a low growl in the ARC trooper’s direction before he stood from his chair and set his hand on Din’s shoulder. “Go ‘freshen up, kid, while I wake the boys. Yeah?”

Din offered him a salute. “Yes, Sergeant!” He was then bounding out of the cockpit, headed in the direction of the refresher.

Echo blinked a few times before he fully absorbed the quick interaction. “Why is he addressing you as ‘Sergeant,’ with a salute?”

Hunter shrugged, never pausing in his stride out of the cockpit as he did so. “I inducted him into the squad last night.”

Echo’s eyes doubled in size as he shot up from his chair. “You did what?” Echo was quick on the sergeant’s heels after that. “Without us?”

“Huh?”

Wrecker’s voice sounded farther away than it should’ve, and as Echo looked up into Hunter’s bunk, he saw the man tucked as close to the interior hull as he could get. His head was raised from the pillow, his expression pinched in the same confusion that Echo had heard in his voice.

“What’d we miss this time?”

Echo pointed his scomp at Hunter with an accusatory glare. “He inducted the kid into the squad last night without us.”

Suddenly, everybody was up. Wrecker sat up so fast that he forgot he was still in Hunter’s bunk and hit his head, drawing a startled ow! from his direction. Meanwhile, Tech managed to knock two unknown devices from the mess of his blankets, and Crosshair’s amber eyes glowed horrifyingly from over the edge of his own bunk.

“What?” Crosshair’s voice was a pure sneer.

“Why?” Wrecker was still rubbing his head, which was now sporting an impressive red bump.

“That had better be false.” Even Tech was peeved as he narrowed his eyes at their sergeant.

Hunter turned around to face the squad, blinking a few times as he did so. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you lot to care that much about being there for it.”

Hunter had only just gotten the words out when the white flash of a pillow flew down from Crosshair’s bunk. The sergeant didn’t even have to look in his youngest brother’s direction to dodge it, no doubt thanks to his trusty senses. For once, Echo wished it had actually hit him.

“Well, that was an ill-founded assessment.” Tech was still frowning up at Hunter from his bunk.

Crosshair hissed from up above. “Kriffing idiot.”

Crosshair’s words were met with a frantic shhh! from both Hunter and Echo, who stared at each other before Echo ultimately jabbed his scomp in the sniper’s direction. “I agree, but watch your language. We’ve got a kid onboard.”

Hunter threw Echo an offended look as Crosshair gave his eyes an impressive roll. “He’s probably heard worse.”

“Aw, c’mon, Cross.” Wrecker was already shaking off the shock of missing the kid’s induction as he flashed a brilliant smile in Crosshair’s direction. “You gotta’ set a good example. I know it’s your first time bein’ a big brother and all, but…”

“Ugh.” Crosshair flopped back down and covered his head with his sheets, given the fact he had already thrown his pillow. “Nevermind. You can kick the kid out of the squad for all I care.”

Hunter sighed, drawing Echo’s attention back over to him. He nearly felt sorry for the sergeant now as he pinched the bridge of his nose and offered Echo an apologetic look. “You were right, Echo.” He relaxed his posture and shook his head. “I didn’t get enough sleep for this.”

At first, Hunter’s words were met with silence. Then, when the realization fell upon the others, history repeated itself.

“You what?” Wrecker demanded from up above.

Tech crossed his arms tightly. “Do not tell us that you have neglected to rest during yet another sleep cycle.”

Crosshair growled and slipped out of the blankets to fold himself over the edge of his bunk and grab Tech’s pillow, which he then threw at Hunter again. The sergeant ducked that throw even more easily and let out another heavy sigh as he lifted his hands placatingly.

“Listen…”

“I’m listening!”

The notably higher-pitched voice of their newest squadmate instantly caught everyone’s attention. The caf that lingered in Echo’s mug nearly sloshed over the sides as he whipped around to face Din. The boy smiled at the gathered group of brothers, but when they all remained frozen in shock, his expression began to falter.

“I’m sorry, did I, um…”

Wrecker was quick to break the accidental tension with a massive smile and outstretched arms. “Welcome to the squad, Mando!”

He jumped down from Hunter’s bunk, no doubt putting on a show of bravery for his new little brother, and scooped Din up in his arms. Echo’s chest warmed at the hearty laughter that bubbled from the kid as Wrecker set him upon his shoulders, still being mindful of the Marauder’s upper interior hull.

“Indeed.” Tech was standing from his bunk, a small smile spread on his lips as he set his goggles in place. “Apologies for not offering our well wishes earlier. However… we were not informed that your induction would be happening in the midst of the sleep cycle.”

The specialist shot Hunter a look. The sergeant just sighed again and shook his head.

“It’s okay, Tech.” Din grinned and looked over at Crosshair’s bunk, where the sniper was just starting to slink out into the open. “At least you’re not the youngest anymore, Crosshair!”

“Lucky me.” Crosshair’s typical snark hadn’t left his tone, but even he couldn’t suppress a small smile as he crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest hull.

Din brightened and looked over at Echo next. “And you’re not the newest member anymore!”

“That’s right.” Echo lifted his mug of caf in Din’s direction and offered him a smile. “We’ve got a true shiny in our midst now.”

Din’s brow furrowed. “‘Shiny’?”

“Cadet.” All eyes returned to Hunter as he set his hands on his hips. “And now that you’ve all gotten that out of your systems, you need to freshen up, too. We’re due to arrive at Coruscant by the end of the hour, and we’ve got a new briefing to discuss.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Wrecker eased Din back to the floor and ruffled his hair before stepping towards the refresher.

The rest of the squad fell into their familiar routine, collecting what they needed before their turn in the refresher and neatening up their bunks. Echo watched Din closely, as Hunter had already headed back into the cockpit to prepare the briefing, and he gently laid his scomp on Din’s shoulder to guide him out of the high traffic area.

“You hungry, Mando?” Echo pointed towards their makeshift galley. “I can get you a ration bar.”

Din nodded, his small smile returning as he let Echo guide him over to a quieter corner. Echo set down his empty mug of caf and grabbed a ration bar. He handed it over to Din, who accepted it with a polite thank you.

The kid had only just started to eat it when he began to look at Echo a little more nervously. Echo softened as he knelt down beside the cargo crate Din was sitting on. “Something on your mind?”

Din looked down at his lap, though he cut his eyes over at Echo in uncertainty. “You don’t have to answer this, Echo, but, um…”

He finally faced Echo fully again, lifting a hand from his ration bar to gesture to Echo’s scomp.

“Is it still hard for you to have that instead of your hand?”

Echo’s heart twinged at the caution with which Din approached the subject as he offered the boy a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind questions about it if you’re curious, Din.”

The boy at least began to relax. Echo lifted his scomp and gave it a small spin as he shrugged.

“I’ve gotten used to it for the most part. It can be really useful, honestly, especially on our missions.”

Din’s eyes began to light up with further curiosity, though their brown depths were still shrouded with concern as he asked another question. “Does it ever hurt?”

Echo’s jaw tightened as he held his scomp with his organic hand. “Not actually, no.” He let out a gentle sigh. “But I do sometimes get what we call phantom pain in my missing hand. It was worse when I was first adjusting to it, but it gets better over time.”

Din nodded in understanding, although his expression was still somber. He finished a bite of his ration bar before his gaze met Echo’s with a sweet severity that seemed beyond his young years. “I’m sorry they did that to you, Echo.”

The words struck a place within Echo that he often ignored most days, the tender center of his heart that typically brought him pain. This, however, was far from that same agony, instead becoming a budding source of warmth that spread into the gentle smile he was able to offer their newest squadmate.

“Thanks, Mando, but you don’t have to apologize for them.” Echo held Din’s shoulder with his organic hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Plus, because of this…” He spun his scomp around again. “I got my new squad.” Echo gestured towards the others, who were finishing up their morning routine. “I have more brothers now.”

“Yeah.” Din’s eyes lit up with newfound excitement as he chewed another bite of the ration bar. “I’ve never had brothers before.”

Echo beamed and gave the kid’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Well, now you have five. And we’re real protective, too.”

Din squared his shoulders at that. “I can protect you guys, too!”

Echo let out a chuckle and nodded. “That’s the spirit. But let’s wait until we’ve given you some training first, yeah?”

Din relented with a sag of his shoulders and a sigh before digging back into his ration bar. Echo huffed to himself in amusement and waited until the boy was done eating. Once he was, he gently urged him off the cargo crate and led him back towards the cockpit, where the rest of the squad was gathering for Hunter’s briefing.

Everyone claimed their usual seats, with Hunter typically preferring to stand when giving his briefings, but as a squad of six now, they were a seat down. Echo was about to stand and offer his seat to Din when Wrecker waved the kid over to him. Din happily made his way over and let Wrecker help him to sit on one of his legs before they all looked at Hunter expectantly.

Hunter’s brow rose in hardly concealed amusement and fondness at Wrecker and Din’s arrangement. “Comfortable?”

The sarcasm flew right over Din’s head as the boy snapped out a salute. “Yes, Sarge!”

Hunter let out a low chuckle as Echo stole a glance at the others. Crosshair was smirking around his toothpick, and the corners of Tech’s mouth were tugging upwards in a small grin of his own. The kid’s eager and innocent spirit was a stark contrast to the severity that typically accompanied their briefings.

This was definitely gonna take some getting used to.

“Alright.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chestplate and looked around the group. “Our mission objective is to get the kid back on our ship before they notice he’s gone. Ideally, it has to happen in a way that doesn’t lead to him even being reported as missing.”

Hunter paused, letting his words sit with the squad before he went on.

“That means we have to do it quickly, before he’s even been registered in their system.”

Echo glanced at Din in his periphery. His stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots at the idea of something going wrong, and the kid being resigned to a fate on Coruscant and beyond that they would never get to know about. Din looked so happy here, despite the fact they were just doing a routine mission briefing.

Echo knew from personal experience that if this source of happiness was ripped away after such a devastating tragedy… he might never recover. Din needed them to pull this off.

“We’ll hand him over first, but we’ll keep our spare comm on him to track his location.” Hunter nodded in Din’s direction. “Think you can handle that, kid?”

Din returned the sergeant’s nod. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter was clearly fighting yet another smile. “Good. Make sure they don’t see it. It has to stay hidden.”

Din nodded again. Hunter let out a soft breath and turned back to the others.

“After we drop him off, we’ll head back to our usual hangar and exchange our gear for our civvies. Once we’ve pinpointed the kid’s exact location, we’ll head over and complete the extraction.”

Crosshair removed his toothpick and pointed it at Hunter. “Won’t they recognize us from the drop?”

Hunter gave his head a shake. “Not if we keep our helmets on with the rest of our gear. Between that and the civvies, it should hopefully be enough to help us blend in with the rest of the city.”

Tech hummed, his pensive face illuminated by the light of his datapad as he no doubt took notes on Hunter’s entire plan. “Regarding the extraction, how exactly do you intend on removing Din from the facility he will inevitably be brought to?”

“That’s our biggest variable.” Hunter’s brow creased as his armored shoulders rose and fell with a calculated breath. “We’ll have to improvise once we have a better idea of where he’s being kept.”

“I get that, but…” Echo held his breath. “I’m not sure that I want to leave that up to chance.”

“Neither do I.” Hunter was quick to affirm Echo’s words. His jaw visibly tightened. “Unfortunately… there’s not much else we can do, other than establish a preliminary plan.” Hunter turned over to Din. “We’ll get our best shot if you can manage to sneak out of the building on your own, Din.”

“Okay. I think I can do that.” Din shifted slightly on Wrecker’s knee. Wrecker set a gentle hand on his shoulder to steady him. “How will I know when you’re there?”

“We’ll send you a quiet chime on the comm as a signal.” Hunter’s rough voice was softer with Din than it typically ever was in such settings. “Then, and only then, is when you should find a way out.”

“Got it.” Din tightened his hands into fists on his lap, but Echo couldn’t catch any traces of fear. Instead, the kid’s eyes were aflame with the light of pure determination.

Echo smiled to himself. This kid was more than fit for their squad. Maybe it really was the Force that brought them together.

“The last thing I want is for you to be out on those Coruscant streets alone.” Hunter was rarely ever afraid, at least in Echo’s experience, but he saw a flash of that very emotion in the sergeant’s eyes as he regarded Din.

Din’s brow rose. “Is Coruscant dangerous? I’ve…” The kid held his arms and looked down. “I’ve never been off Aq Vetina before.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe, Mando.” Echo was quick to reassure the boy. “It’s not dangerous, but it can be if you’re on your own there for too long. That’s all that Hunter’s trying to say.”

Hunter nodded to affirm the ARC trooper’s words. “You don’t have to worry. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Crosshair ran the rag over the rifle in his lap as he hummed in agreement. “Mhmm.”

Hunter’s head turned towards their engineer. “Tech—.”

“Already on it.”

Tech pulled a spare comm from one of the many pockets on his belt and briefly connected it to his datapad. After tapping something out at a speed that made Echo a little dizzy, Tech disconnected it again and rose from his chair. He strode over to Wrecker and Din and knelt down in front of the kid.

“Here.” Tech offered the comm device to Din, who held it gingerly in the palm of his hand. “In theory, you will not be required to use the device during this particular mission, but in case of emergency, it is best that you know the basics.”

Tech went on to show Din how to turn the comm on and off, as well as where to speak into it. They then decided on the best place to hide it, and Din kept it concealed there as Tech made his way back over to his chair.

Hunter’s gaze surveyed the group and he kept his arms crossed. “Are there any questions?”

Wrecker raised a hand as he spoke. “I assume we’re stayin’ together?”

“That’s the plan for now. We’ll only split into teams if we have to.”

Tech hummed to himself before he spoke. “It may actually be less suspicious and more efficient if most of us remained on the Marauder. It seems unlikely that all five of us will be required to escort Din back to the ship.”

Hunter shrugged. “Well, based on your reaction to not being there for the kid’s induction, I figured you’d all want to be there for this.”

Crosshair scoffed. “How touching.”

Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “Am I wrong? Because I can have some of you stay—.”

“No.” Tech, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo all said the word at the same time.

Hunter let a self-satisfied smirk spread on his lips. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Crosshair shot a look in Tech’s direction. “Aren’t you the genius who just suggested we split up?”

Tech frowned at him. “I said it would be most advantageous for us to do that, not that it would be my personal preference.”

Echo huffed to himself and shook his head. They could deny it all they wanted to, Crosshair especially, but they were all obsessed with their new little brother—and definitely more than a little protective of him.

“Anything else?” Hunter scanned the squad once again, but this time, silence persisted. He nodded. “Great. That’s all for the briefing, then.”

Echo lifted his scomp. “What about after? I assume we’re still going to Kamino?”

Hunter let out a breath as his arms fell to his sides. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. One mission at a time.” He walked closer to the controls, his gaze narrowing in on the navicomputer. “We’re just a few minutes out from Coruscant. Everyone get ready.”

Wrecker held Din’s shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “You ready for your first mission, Mando?”

Din smiled and glanced back at Wrecker. “Yeah, I think so!” His expression faltered a bit. “Is it normal to be a little bit nervous, though?”

Wrecker let out a huff. “Oh, yeah. We love missions now, but in the beginnin’, we were a mess of nerves. It’s a good thing Sarge was so calm, ‘cause if he wasn’t, who knows what coulda’ happened!”

Crosshair hissed. “Sure, give him all the credit.”

Hunter spared a look over his shoulder at that. “Funny. I seem to remember saying we need to get ready for our arrival, but you haven’t even moved yet.”

Crosshair narrowed his eyes at Hunter, but nevertheless obeyed as he rose from his chair and left the cockpit to put his rifle away. Tech stayed where he was in the pilot’s chair, and Echo started to turn in the co-pilot’s chair to assist with the landing cycle. He stopped, however, and looked over at Wrecker and Din, who had just started to get up from their chair.

“Hey, Mando.” Echo waved the kid over with his head. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

The kid’s eyes widened with excitement as he bounded over to Echo. The ARC trooper stood to let Din take his place, as he instead stood just behind the chair and leaned upon it. Hunter was still standing behind Tech’s chair, his gaze fondly regarding the pair of them as Din looked up at Echo.

“What’d you want me to see?”

Echo chuckled and nodded at the viewport. “Just take a look.”

Din obeyed, and just a second later, the Marauder dropped out of hyperspace. They were met with a prime view of Coruscant, which was as busy as ever with ships flying in and out at their leisure. Echo, however, was too busy watching the kid, whose eyes widened in awe as his gaze flickered over everything in sight.

“Wow.” Din’s voice was breathless as he spoke. “There’s… so much.”

Echo hummed. “So much what?”

Din shook his head. “Everything.” He tucked his small hands underneath his legs and leaned forward. “We barely ever get any visitors back home. It’s so small. But here…”

The kid blinked a few times. Echo watched his expression crumple from wonder into fear as he gazed up at Echo again. His voice was much smaller than before.

“Are there any droids here?”

“No.” Echo shook his head firmly. “At least, not any battle droids. You’re safe from them here.” He reached down to set a steady hand on Din’s shoulder. “Promise.”

Din visibly relaxed at that. He nodded and turned back to the view of Coruscant as Tech made their approach. Echo felt the warmth of another pair of eyes on him, and he turned his head to see Hunter giving him a look of approval. He offered the ARC trooper a nod before he turned and joined Wrecker and Crosshair outside the cockpit.

After checking in with flight control with their directives, Tech was guided to a secure landing pad not far from the Senate, where the refugee organization would be rendezvousing with them. Echo did his best not to knead the material of the chair in his grasp too hard as his nerves suddenly started to bubble up beneath the surface of his skin.

The ARC wasn’t a stranger to nerves, especially before missions, but something about this was different. There was a lot more on the line if something went wrong, even if the plan and its execution were both simple. The kid needed them to pull through.

As soon as Tech had landed the Marauder and it was deemed safe for Din to be up and about, the three of them joined Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair. They had already finished gearing up and were sliding their helmets on, and while Tech and Echo did the same, Hunter addressed the group.

“Everyone clear on the plan?”

Affirmatives sounded out from all the squad members. Din followed their lead and offered the same reassurance.

Echo watched Hunter kneel down to Din’s level as he set a hand on his shoulder. “Remember, Mando, that comm stays hidden at all costs.” He pointed at the device’s hiding place. “We’ll do the work. Only use it if there’s an emergency.”

“Yessir!” Din snapped out a salute.

Hunter chuckled and gently patted Din’s shoulder once more before he stood. He let out a steadying breath and walked towards the cockpit. His hand hovered over the controls as he looked back at the rest of the squad. “Here we go.”

Echo straightened his shoulders. This, in theory, would be the easiest part, but it would also be the hardest. They were willingly handing over their newest member of the squad.

Echo had once thought he would never grow a deep attachment to anyone ever again once he had learned of Fives’ fate, but the Bad Batch had taught him differently, and Din was continuing to do the same—and in an impressively short amount of time.

The ramp lowered, and Hunter led the way down the stairs. Din was tucked in between the members of the group, as Echo followed Hunter, Din followed Echo, and Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker filed out last. Hunter strode forward until the representative from the refugee organization, a Mirialan, met him in the middle.

“You must be Sergeant Hunter.” The Mirialan’s voice was warm as she nodded at him. “Jedi Master Shaak Ti alerted me to your arrival.”

“That’s right.”

Hunter turned and glanced behind him. Echo stepped aside to let Din walk through. The kid was putting on quite a show; he had his head bowed and his arms wrapped over himself, as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. It made Echo’s heart ache, even if he knew it was an act.

At least, he hoped it was just a part of the act.

“This is Din.” Hunter set a hand on the kid’s shoulder. His voice pointedly lowered as he went on. “He… lost everyone on Aq Vetina.”

The Mirialan’s face twisted in sympathy as she looked down at the young boy. “You’ve been so brave to endure that, Din. You’re in safe hands now.”

She extended a hand towards Din. He took it, still looking down even as he joined her at her side. The Mirialan’s attention returned to Hunter and the rest of the squad.

“Thank you for bringing him here. You’ve done the Republic a great service.”

Hunter offered her a two-fingered salute. “Just doing our duty.”

He kept it at that. The sergeant turned and led the others back towards the Marauder. That was their usual decorum, considering the lot of them weren’t conversationalists as it was, but it was much harder to turn their backs now than it ever had been before.

Echo didn’t need Hunter’s enhanced senses to feel the uneasy tension that crackled between the group the farther they walked away from Din. Once they had all filed inside the ship and the hatch closed behind them, helmets were tugged off, revealing pinched expressions of reluctance.

“I hate this.” Wrecker huffed and plopped himself down in the chair behind Tech’s. “We shouldn’t be leavin’ ‘im here at all!”

Hunter sighed, but the exhaled breath couldn’t remove the worried lines that creased the sharp features of his face. “It was the only way.” He took the co-pilot’s chair and nodded at Tech. “Get us to the hangar. The quicker we get this done, the better.”

“I have already prepared us for takeoff.” Tech jerked the ship up, making Echo and Crosshair stumble as he zoomed off towards their usual hangar.

“I didn’t like the way she said that.” Crosshair hissed as he pulled out a toothpick and thumbed at it nervously. “‘You’re in safe hands now.’ As if we aren’t capable of protecting him.”

“Just because we’re not leaving Din with them doesn’t mean we have to think of them as enemies.” Echo raised his brow at the sniper. “She clearly didn’t mean it like that.”

Crosshair glowered at Echo and pointed his toothpick in this direction. “Of course you’d defend them.”

Echo frowned and took a step closer to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hunter shot a look back at the two of them. “We’re not doing this right now.” He cut his gaze towards the cockpit’s doorway. “Use this time to start getting into your civvies.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes but nevertheless strode into the hold. Echo followed him, keeping a respectful amount of distance as he made his way to his locker to gather his civvies.

Because the Techno Union had been so kind as to make Echo into a cyborg, regular civvies didn’t make much of a difference in camouflaging him. Instead, Echo had come up with an outfit that made him look more like a droid, which didn’t call into question his scomp or his neural interface—something Echo could, but preferred not to, remove.

Echo had come to terms with it a long time ago. Now, however, he was stuck with a single, terrifying thought: What if the kid doesn’t recognize me, and he’s afraid of me?

It was already clear that Din didn’t like droids, which was understandable, given what happened on Aq Vetina. With Echo dressing like a droid…

The ARC trooper shook his head as he adjusted the mask on his head. It didn’t matter; Din would recognize the others, and that would make the kid feel safe enough.

And despite how treasonous the thought might have sounded to the Republic, Din’s safety was all that mattered now.