Archive of Our Own ^beta

Omega waited in her not-cell for someone to come and give her food. Her stomach was so empty it hurt, not that she wasn’t used to it.

Finally, she heard footsteps clacking down the hallway. Grabbing her Tooka doll that she’d made out of straw and touching it to her forehead, she said goodbye.

She’d never tell anyone, but her doll’s name was Lula II.

Soon she’d have the real Lula to sleep with.

When the door opened, she could see a doctor standing there. Not Emerie, thank the stars. Omega would have felt bad about knocking her out.

She yanked the tray from the doctor’s hands, eyes gleaming.

She remembered Tech’s words. “A direct hit on top of their head will leave them out for at least 5 minutes.”

She shook her head slightly. They never expect the weak ones. But I’m not weak!

She slammed the tray down on the top of their skull. The doctor staggered, then fell over unconscious.

Dropping the tray, she ran out into the hallway, the sharp sting of antiseptic flooding her nostrils.

Maybe—just maybe—she had a chance this time.

Skidding around a corner, she bolted past a guard. He barely had time to process who she was before she was around the next bend.

Unfortunately, he recovered fast.

Grabbing his comm, he held it to his mouth, voice muffled by the helmet, and barked, “Prisoner has escaped! She’s heading for the shuttle bay!”

Omega grinned. Too late.

She turned the last corner and jumped into the elevator, mirrored walls shining her sweaty face and messed up ponytail back at her as she jammed her thumb into the close doors button. The silver doors slid shut just as he reached them and Omega was on her way to the shuttle bay.

Almost there. The numbers of the floors ticked by on the small screen. Almost free. And I can see Hunter again.

There was one thing she hadn’t accounted for, though.

The elevator jerked to the stop just two levels before the hangar bay.

The doors slid open and Doctor Hemlock stood there, backlit by sterile white light, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. She gasped in terror and bolted out the door into the hallway beyond.

She hadn’t been in this part of the building before. It was dark, empty, wrong.

She turned a corner, hoping it would lead to something, anything, maybe even another lift-

She froze.

Two clones stood at the end of the hallway, blasters raised and locked on her.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Cold, measured. She didn’t need to look.

“You miscalculated.” Doctor Hemlock sneered. She gulped.

The stun bolt hit her in the chest.

Everything went black.

Omega woke on a cold table, restraints digging into her arms.

Great.

She tried thrashing against her restraints but they held tight.

With a sigh, she looked around the room—and stopped. Her eyes suddenly widened with horror.

There were dead clones floating in bacta tanks.

The eerie blue light the tanks cast was lighting up the room, so she could read the names on the tanks. Scanning the nearest panel, she read the name Mayday. Looking at another, she saw the name CT-0409 ‘Slip’.

The humming of the tanks was getting really distracting.

The door hissed open and she stiffened. Her neck muscles cramped up and she winced in pain.

“Hello, specimen.” Dr. Hemlock’s composed and even voice came from behind her.

She opened her mouth to snap something back—and he shushed her, clamping his cold hand over her mouth.

“You’re a foolish little girl.” he told her. “Did you really think you could escape from me? You are imperial property. You belong to me.”

Omega balled her fists.

“I don’t belong to ANYONE!” she yelled, her voice hoarse but steady. Hemlock leaned closer.

“You think you can escape?” he whispered, his voice low yet calm. “I’d like to see you try.”

He undid her restraints with a flash of his hand, she had no time to react-

She hit the floor headfirst with a sickening crack.

Pain flared, sharp and sudden, and stars exploded in front of her eyes. She looked up at the tank she landed in front of.

Her vision blurred. A name swam through the haze.

CT-9902

Tech

Then the darkness swallowed her whole.

She blinked slowly. She was...in the sky? Then she looked down.

Big mistake.

Tech’s voice echoed through the air.

“When have we ever followed orders?”

She felt, not heard, the shot.

It felt like it hit her straight in the heart.

Everything was in slow motion. The railcar was falling. She could still see Tech, plummeting, with a smile on his face as he faced his certain death.

Smiling because she was safe.

Not him.

She probably screamed his name.

She couldn’t tell.

She couldn’t even hear Wrecker standing next to her. She knew he had screamed too, his mouth was open. But she didn’t hear it.

The railcar she was on whirred to life and she barely had time to register that it was moving before she heard Hunter’s shout. “We’re coming in too fast!”

When they hit the building, she didn’t notice. Even though she was falling now too.

All she could think of was Tech.

Memories flashed before her eyes. Tech, teaching her how to fly a ship. Tech, always buried in his datapad. Tech, removing Wrecker’s inhibitor chip before he could hurt her.

Tech explaining how he processed emotions and thoughts differently at the bottom of a waterfall when they were both soaking wet.

He’d promised to teach her how to jump to hyperspace.

Now he never would.

The scene changed and she was on Tantiss again. Crosshair stood before her, his face contorted in anger.

“How could you!” he yelled. “It was your fault he died! You could have saved him!”

She took a step back, eyes widening.

“B-but I-”

“Stop crying! Hunter was right, you are just a whiny little baby. You can’t save anyone, not even yourself. They’re all better off without you. The Empire didn’t kill Tech. You did.” Crosshair spat, stalking towards her.

She shrunk back, and bumped into something behind her, letting out a small squeak.

She turned.

It was Hunter.

She went to bury her face in his blacks, waiting for him to tell her it would be alright.

Instead, he pushed her away.

“Is this true? You killed him?” he asked.

“I-I, Hunter, I would never, he did it himself, he was—”

He cut her off. “I knew I should have left you on Kamino. You were nothing but a mistake. You’re Hemlock’s problem now.”

He left, vanishing into the shadows with Crosshair.

Omega crumpled into a ball and started to cry.

Deep down, she knew it was true. All of it.

It was her fault Tech died. She was weak. She was a mistake.

Maybe if she died she could see Tech again.

But he’d probably hate her too.

Omega woke with a gasp, fear coursing through her. Instantly the pain hit, nausea building in her stomach. She knew it would feel better if she threw up, but there was nothing in her stomach anyways.

She opened her eyes a crack, which was a bad idea.

As soon as the light hit her eyes, it stabbed deep into her brain. She screwed her eyes shut but her head continued to pound.

Someone was talking. She could hear it, but couldn’t make out the words.

“-mega? Are you awake?”

The sound was boring into her brain.

Why did he have to shout?

She raised her head.

Immediately her brain clouded with dizziness and she slumped to the floor again.

The next time she woke, she felt better.

Her head only hurt like a ship landed on it this time instead of an entire planet.

She tried opening her eyes again.

Everything was blurry, but at least the light wasn’t stabbing her anymore. Crosshair was crouching over her.

“Omega? Can you hear me? What’s my name?”

She blinked groggily, and for a second she panicked. She didn’t know his name. Then it snapped back and she flinched away.

“Omega?” he asked, features changing to concern-something he rarely showed.

She shook her head to try and clear the memory rush and blurted out, “Tech!”

“No. I’m Crosshair, remember?”

Oh no. He sounded angry. “R-right, Crosshair. Tech’s gone. I remember. But he was there, in the tank and then—” she broke off suddenly.

“Kid? Are you ok?”

She whined, he was going to yell at her.

“It was my fault Tech died! I’m just a whiny baby and I don’t deserve to live! I was a mistake and you all should have left me on Kamino.” she blurted out.

“Oh, ‘megs.” he whispered, sitting down cross-legged next to her. “Is that what you think? It wasn’t your fault. It’s the empire’s fault, for killing him. And if anyone’s a mistake, it’s me. I chose the wrong side and lost everything for it.”

“But he died trying to save me. I should have been able to save myself.” Omega curled tighter into herself.

“Everyone needs a little help sometimes. You came here trying to save me. You wouldn’t be concussed right now if I hadn’t been such a jerk and stayed with the Empire and then gotten myself thrown in here. Would you say I’m a whiny little baby?”

Omega giggled a little. “S-sometimes. Hunter said when you don’t get your way you’re a whiny baby. He said you wanted a loth cat and he wouldn’t buy it and then-”

“Nope!” Crosshair interrupted. “Not going there. But see? It’ll be okay. You’re laughing. Tech will always be with us. And every one of us feels like we’re the ones at fault for his death. Even Hunter, I assure you. He probably even feels like it’s his fault you got captured. As long as we don’t forget Tech, the empire can’t get to us.”

“I want to believe you, but...they already have gotten to us. They tossed his broken goggles to Hunter and he collapsed. They captured me and put me here.” she murmured.

“...I saw him. Floating in a tank with a bunch of other dead clones. I only read a couple names but I saw his. Some clone named Mayday. Another named Slip.”

Crosshair stiffened at the mention of Mayday’s name.

“Did you know him?” Omega asked.

“Yes.” Crosshair said, and it was clear that there would be no further discussion on the topic.

“You should rest some more. You need it.”

“Can you sing me a lullaby?”

“…I don’t sing,” Crosshair muttered, but there wasn’t much bite to it. He shifted like he was thinking of standing, but Omega’s wide, glassy eyes stopped him. “But I’ll stay here. I’ll… hum, or something.”

Omega gave a wobbly smile and curled up closer, her forehead resting lightly on his knee.

For a long moment, there was silence—just the faint hum of machinery, the occasional distant clank of boots in another hallway. Then, slowly, awkwardly, Crosshair started humming. It was flat and a little off-key, like he wasn’t sure if he remembered the tune right. But it was gentle. Familiar.

It was the lullaby Tech used to play through his datapad on nights Omega couldn’t sleep.

Omega’s breathing evened out, slower, quieter. Her lashes fluttered once, twice—and then stilled.

(Crosshair’s pov)

Crosshair didn’t stop humming, even after she was out. He didn’t touch her, didn’t dare, but he stayed right where he was.

Tech had known all the words. He’d hum them when he was working on the ship sometimes, if he was in a good mood. Crosshair never learned the words. But the melody was enough to make Omega fall asleep, and he was grateful.

He didn’t like the idea of Tech suspended in a tank with other dead clones. He deserved better. He deserved to have his ashes stored on the Marauder next to his goggles.

He’d wanted to be cremated.

So, Mayday was there too? He’d thought they didn’t care about him. After all, they let him die.

He huffed a laugh.

Would he be in that tank someday?

He couldn’t bear to tell Omega how he felt. It would only make her feel guilty for telling him in the first place.

Even though he didn’t sing, he’d always felt comfortable with Mando’a.

He started to sing the words to an old soldiers song he’d learned on the battlefield. It was sad and sweet, about never being truly gone, and how spirits lingered on the battlefield and with their brothers long after their bodies were moved.

When he finished, he lay down, careful not to disturb Omega.

“…You were supposed to be the one who kept her out of places like this,” he murmured softly. “Not me.”

The soft light of the moons beyond flickered through the bars on the window.

Little girls shouldn’t have to endure this kind of torture.

Even if she wasn’t little anymore, he knew she was only being strong because she had to be. It was the only way to survive in a place like this.

“I’ll get her out. I promise.”

And for once, he meant it.

“Good night, vod. Tell Hunter I’ll look after her.”

And with that, he lowered his head and went to sleep.