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The door hissed closed and Wrecker watched helplessly as his team—his family— scattered. Serenno may have fallen behind them, and they may have all made it back onto the Havoc Marauder as she climbed through the atmosphere, but they were far from together.
Omega had scrambled into the gunner’s mount, holding some rusted trinket that may have been the only treasure they’d managed to recover from the disastrous heist. Echo had gone to the bunks, and Wrecker could hear him peeling off his armor and fumbling around for something in their storage. Hunter had stayed in the cockpit, hands gripping the steering column so tightly that his knuckles were likely turning white beneath his gloves. He’d put his helmet back on at some point, and Wrecker wasn’t sure if it was in an attempt to relieve a budding migraine from the explosions and blaster fire that had marked their escape, or because he wanted to be alone after the small mutiny that had ended in utter failure.
Perhaps it was both.
And Tech… Tech just stood by the door, staring off into a space no one could see and likely solving a problem that would only impact them after six months had gone by. Though usually he would set about tinkering or cleaning his weapons immediately after a mission, so the pause was… unusual.
Wrecker sighed, sitting down on the crash seats and inspecting his hastily-constructed mini-cannon, making sure to disconnect the power-pack since improvised, mobile tanks didn’t exactly come with a safety. The battery itself wasn’t anything overly unique—heck, it was a common type used for a speeder—which meant the weapon would be easy to charge or even replicate. Perhaps Tech could help him with making some sort of casing for it, to shield the components and make it easier to carry.
If they were back on the Empire’s radar—and it would be impossible not to be after the ruckus they’d caused—they’d need all the firepower they could get their hands on, improvised or not.
Wrecker patted the cannon affectionately before looking up again, and finding that Tech was still standing just by the hatch, his posture growing even more rigid. “Hey, Tech, you should probably go lay down…”
“Agreed,” Echo added quickly as he returned to the main hold, now down to his civvies and carrying the largest of their medkits.
Wrecker was immediately on edge. “Did someone get hurt?” He looked down at himself then risked a quick glance at Hunter—the sergeant liked to think he was great at hiding his pain, but for his brothers it was beyond easy to tell when their leader was hurt. “Hunter and I are okay…” he decided after a glance, then trailed off before realizing that Tech hadn’t moved except to squeeze his eyes shut tightly.
“Help me get him to his bunk, Wrecker,” Echo murmured, going to Tech’s left side and looping an arm beneath his shoulders.
Wrecker nodded, stepping opposite of Echo and taking most of Tech’s weight as he waited for him to step forward.
One second passed, and then two. By the third nearly-silent ping of the radar, Wrecker looked over Tech’s head and fixed a worried gaze on Echo while he spoke. “Tech? You, uhh, you still with us?” Wrecker asked, gently squeezing the youngest’s shoulder.
Tech blinked rapidly, shaking his head slightly before reaching up to peel his helmet off, revealing that his complexion had turned a sickly, pale shade. His pupils were practically the size of his irises, and though relatively quiet, Wrecker could recognize the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“He’s going into shock,” Echo hissed suddenly before stepping away. “Wrecker, get him to his bunk, but be careful of his left leg! And don’t let him pass out!”
Tech’s helmet fell from his unsteady fingers, clattering noisily against the floor. “I have already passed out,” he mumbled. “On Serenno, while you and Omega were in the container.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Echo retorted, hastily calibrating the medscanner.
“I couldn’t,” Tech slurred. “I was not conscious.”
Wrecker ignored their bickering, immediately scooping the younger up and only realizing why he needed to be careful as Tech choked on a breath, letting out a tight half-scream as his hands scrambled against Wrecker’s chest-plate. The youngest’s left leg was wrapped in a splint, though what had once likely been a tight, makeshift traction was now unraveling, likely due to the skirmish that had just finished when Wrecker and Hunter had arrived in the Marauder. Wrecker set Tech down on his bunk before gathering all of their pillows and blankets to create some sort of bolster—he at least remembered that when someone was going into shock, you needed to elevate their legs above their heart.
Echo was beside Wrecker in an instant, waving the med-scanner over Tech before setting it aside and picking through the medkit. “We need to get his armor off, and his toolbelt, to get a better idea of how bad the swelling is.”
“What swelling? What happened?” Wrecker demanded even as his large hands deftly worked to unclasp the few armor plates that Tech wore and set them aside in a somewhat haphazard pile.
“He broke his femur,” Omega responded behind Wrecker before rushing to snatch up the discarded med-scanner. “Echo, I thought we’d splinted it so that it would be stable until we could get somewhere safer—so that this wouldn’t happen!”
Echo huffed a breath. “Yeah, well, the splint unraveled while we were tracking you down,” he hissed. “And Tech, with his exceptional mind , decided to take a stim instead of any pain medications.” As he spoke, he undid the clasp on Tech’s tool belt and Wrecker delicately set it aside on one of the other bunks before returning in time to see Echo cutting open the left leg of Tech’s blacks.
Wrecker couldn’t help his wince and his own pained groan as he took in the swelling of Tech’s thigh, his skin pulled taut and dark with bruising. “Well, at least it’s not stickin’ out of his leg,” Wrecker offered as a paltry attempt at comfort.
“It doesn’t matter,” Omega whispered, helping Echo with re-setting the splint. “Bones are responsible for making blood, and obviously the bone snapping means the blood isn’t going where it’s supposed to.”
“The swelling isn’t helping matters either,” Echo added, and soon enough, he and Omega were trading words whose letter counts were longer than some entire sentences—or at least, that’s what it felt like to Wrecker.
What felt like hours—but was probably only minutes—passed, and Omega and Echo had set up an IV and given Tech a cocktail of fluids, pain medications, and vasopressors. Omega had even insisted that he wear one of their oxygen masks, though thankfully Tech at least appeared to be breathing well enough on his own. But even as they stepped back to observe his slowly-stabilizing vitals, neither Omega nor Echo relaxed.
“Don’t—don’t tell Hunter…” Tech mumbled suddenly, his eyes glazed over and his hands knotted into the sheet of his bunk. “He has… enough to—to worry about…”
“Just stay awake a little longer, Tech. At least until your vitals are stable,” Omega whispered, draping a blanket over him as he shivered.
“Don’t tell me what?” Hunter asked, stepping back into the hold with his helmet beneath one arm and a stern look on his face.
Echo stood up straight to face the sergeant, Wrecker noticing his own expression was carefully neutral. “Tech broke his femur when the container crash-landed. Unfortunately the splint started to unravel and he chose now as a good time to go into shock.”
“At least I waited until we were on the ship,” Tech mumbled, his eyes almost completely shut.
Hunter stared, his brow pulling together tightly for several, painfully-long beats until he finally sucked in a breath to respond. “You broke your leg? And you didn’t say anything?”
Wrecker cleared his throat. “Well, you did order silence on comms…”
“That doesn’t matter! That’s something you at least tell your team so that we can respond appropriately!” Hunter retorted.
Echo crossed his arms. “What difference would it have made, Hunter? Are you saying that you two were taking your own sweet time to get back to the ship?”
“No, of course not,” Hunter hissed.
“Then there was nothing you could have done at any point,” Echo replied. “Now, we need to get in contact with Rex to try and find some sort of facility that can get Tech properly patched up.”
Hunter put up his hands immediately, and Wrecker felt the atmosphere in the ship chill that much further. “Woah, woah, woah, hold on, Echo. Go to Rex? Isn’t this something we can handle on our own?”
Echo sighed, arching a brow. “I don’t think any of us are up to the task of cutting Tech open in order to properly set the bone. Aside from the fact that the Marauder isn’t exactly a sterile medical bay…”
“Well, we’ve patched up plenty of life-threatening injuries in here before…” Hunter mumbled.
Omega meekly looked between the two, her face twisted with the same carefully-controlled fear that she wore whenever Wrecker was teaching her how to disarm explosives. “We don’t exactly have the supplies, Hunter. We’d have to use plates or screws to get it set correctly, and we’d have to have the right equipment to ensure we don’t cause further damage.” Omega paused before adding, “It’s not like when you were with the Republic, and you had endless supplies and a backup medbay nearby in case something went wrong…” She twisted her hands in her opposite sleeves, and Wrecker recognized the guilt that was pouring off of her.
It only made him worry that much more for what exactly had happened while he and Hunter had been escaping Imperial forces around the castle and bombarded city.
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a noticeable breath to steady himself. “What about a… a bone-knitter? We have one of those, right?”
It was Wrecker’s turn to look guilty. “The one we were given to keep in our medkit during the war broke. We… we sold it for credits a few months back.”
“Can we get the parts for one?” Hunter asked.
“What? Do you plan on just putting together a bone-knitter?” Echo was clearly fighting to keep his voice level, but even his composure was starting to slip. “Because even those aren’t exactly designed for a femur break and last I checked, the one person capable of potentially building one is the one who currently needs it.”
Hunter looked between them all. “AZI?” he asked next, though it was clear by his defeated voice that he knew even the med droid wouldn’t be enough to fix something quite so serious.
“Hunter, I—Echo’s right. We can’t just do this ourselves,” Wrecker mumbled.
Echo sighed. “And there’s no sense in endangering his leg or putting him in pain for the rest of his life when Rex very well has the means to help him.”
Hunter winced and looked away. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll make the call,” he muttered, and trudged back towards the cockpit.
Omega made to follow him before Wrecker rested a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “Best you stay back here with Echo and Tech, yeah?” Wrecker murmured. “I’ll go keep Hunter company.”
And just like that, they dispersed again, though as Wrecker was about to step into the cockpit, he heard Echo and Omega sit down and start a hushed conversation, Omega clutching the rusted trinket from before.
On the way to the doctor that Rex said he trusted, Hunter barely uttered a word. While Wrecker noticed the air seemed clearer between Omega and Echo as the pair worked in tandem to keep Tech stable, Hunter was closed off and tense, hardly even so much as looking at anyone else.
When they landed, Tech was whisked off for surgery and the others waited, all dressed in their civvies and doing their best to stay well under the radar, even though they were supposedly somewhere safe. Hunter had announced that he wanted to return to the shuttle to run some diagnostics, and Wrecker volunteered to join him, sitting beside the worn-out sergeant and his younger brother while the other punched at buttons on the console and mumbled under his breath.
“You okay, Hunter?” Wrecker asked after a long stretch of silence.
“Great,” Hunter replied, voice tight.
Wrecker rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.” He paused, considering the situation before deciding to make an assumption. It might actually get Hunter to start talking. “Are you… mad about us taking that job?”
“Something like that,” Hunter mumbled.
Wrecker slowly nodded. “You blame Echo?”
“Should I?” Hunter looked up, a mix of emotions clouding his eyes.
Wrecker sighed. “Hunter, we still trust you—’course we do. But… Cid was right about the whole money thing. You’re so stressed out about that an’ keepin’ us safe an’ raising Omega an’ the Empire and… Well, getting to not worry about something might be good.”
“And that’s the only reason you signed on?” Hunter asked.
“Well…” Wrecker trailed off, rubbing the back of his head. “Echo’s right, too. We might not have it great, but other people have it worse. And we—we could help them out, at least.”
Hunter crossed his arms and stared out of the windscreen towards the cloudless night sky. “And put us back in the Empire’s sights.”
“It’s a miracle they even believed we were dead to begin with, Hunter. It was only a matter of time,” Wrecker replied.
“It wasn’t a miracle. It was Crosshair,” Hunter said before closing his eyes. “Wrecker, us being on the Empire’s radar again could kill Crosshair. He may hate us, and he may think we hate him, but I won’t put him in further danger by revealing that he lied to keep us safe.”
Wrecker inclined his head. “I think that ship has flown, sarge. But Crosshair is smart. We have to believe he’ll be okay. And who knows—we changed our armor, so they might not have even recognized us.”
Hunter leveled him with a rather skeptical stare. “You really think that?”
“Well, we can’t all be ‘dark an’ broody,’” Wrecker teased.
“Hunter, Wrecker, come in,” Echo’s voice called over comms, and what little levity Wrecker had managed to dredge up immediately evaporated.
Hunter punched the button on the console. “We read you, Echo. What’s Tech’s status?”
“He just came out of surgery. Doctor says they’ll put him in a bacta dip overnight then use a bone-knitter to help kick-start the healing, but it’ll still be at least two months before he’s able to move well,” Echo reported.
Hunter nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief. “How long until we can leave?”
“At least another day, it sounds like, just to be safe.” Echo’s tone through the comms was much lighter, no longer as tight or carefully controlled as it had been hours before. Perhaps there was some hope for his family after all.
Hunter sighed. “Good. Wrecker and I can come swap off with you and Omega in a little while.”
“Sounds good. The kid needs some sleep after all the, ah, excitement,” Echo muttered. “See you soon, Hunter.” And with that, the comm clicked off.
Hunter scoffed. “Excitement. That’s one word for it, I guess.”
“Well, if you forget about Tech breakin’ his leg and that we didn’t get any credits, it was exciting to break into the head-Seppie’s old castle,” Wrecker replied and finally, finally he drew a laugh out of Hunter.
They lapsed into silence, watching a comet streak through the night sky until Wrecker spoke again. “I’m sorry we went behind your back, Hunter.”
“It’s fine, Wreck,” Hunter stated, in a way that meant it really wasn’t fine at all, but it was something the sergeant really didn’t want to discuss right now.
Wrecker made a grim face. “I think it… it might be a good idea to listen to Echo, though. To at least hear him out.”
“I just want what’s best for Omega, Wrecker,” Hunter murmured. “Being an Imperial fugitive isn’t what I would consider the best life for her. Crosshair wasn’t wrong about that.”
Wrecker looked over, holding his brother’s gaze for a long, long minute. “I think what’s best would be not havin’ an Empire at all and bein’ all together.” He sighed. “Hunter, I don’t want to lose another brother just because we all split ways, especially if we can do something about it.”
“I don’t want to lose anyone again either, Wrecker. But we nearly did this mission,” Hunter sighed, and Wrecker felt thoroughly chastised.
The brawler picked at a loose thread on his poncho. “We could lose anyone on any mission.”
Hunter opened his mouth to respond before deflating even further, knowing that pressing the point would send them arguing in circles. “I… I can’t make any promises. I guess there’s not really much of a right answer, no matter what we do.”
“Hmm,” Wrecker inclined his head. “Maybe the only right answer is what we can all decide on together?”
Hunter glanced up at him before letting out a soft huff of laughter and pushing himself to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go check on Tech.”
Wrecker wordlessly followed Hunter into the quiet night and towards the medical center, and the stillness of the town around them almost made things feel a bit closer to normal. Well, as normal as they could be when Tech was in a bacta tank and Crosshair was stars-knew-where. But even still, Wrecker noticed the ease with which Hunter walked, and while his pace wasn’t relaxed, it also wasn’t the breakneck, harsh cadence he’d set earlier.
When they stepped into the room with the bacta tank, Wrecker found Echo standing beside the tank, holding a sleepy Omega in his arms while she pressed a hand against the transparisteel. Wrecker couldn’t help the warmth that flared in his chest, and it only grew when Omega turned her sleepy smile on him.
“How is he?” Hunter asked as he stepped beside Echo, his gaze entirely focused on Tech’s form. Their youngest was suspended in the translucent, blue bacta, his left leg encased in some sort of brace that held the limb in a rigid position instead of letting it float loosely like the rest of him. Even through the haze, it was easy for Wrecker to make out the angry bruise that had flared around the broken bone—though now a stitched-closed incision cut through it. But now he could see an additional complement of bruises on Tech’s arms and torso, a testament to how he’d still fought to protect Echo and Omega despite the excruciating pain of his broken leg.
Echo shrugged. “No change, but honestly that’s probably a good thing. Doctor says he’ll pull him out in the morning and wake him up, though he’ll probably have to stay awake even while the bone-knitter is doing its thing.”
“We’ve all been through worse,” Hunter murmured. “At least he’s asleep while in the bacta tank. He hated them already, but it only got worse when his vision got kriffed up.”
Echo inclined his head, assenting the point, before sighing as he turned to Hunter. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter nodded, and Wrecker could only watch as some wordless conversation passed between the sergeant and the corporal. It was almost the same as when Hunter would have those sort of silent debates with Crosshair during the war. After a minute, and a rather loud yawn from Omega, the pair reached some kind of tenuous agreement and Echo stepped back.
“Comm us in the morning?” Echo asked.
Hunter nodded. “We’ll make sure you’re here before he wakes up.”
Echo offered a tired smile before starting out, and Wrecker offered a “goodnight” before ruffling Omega’s hair. “See you in the mornin’, kid. Get some good sleep.”
“You too, Wrecker,” she mumbled, and her eyes slipped closed before the door had even hissed shut as Echo carried her out.
When Wrecker looked back, he was struck by Hunter’s form, his posture rigid even as he seemed to collapse into himself to rest his forehead against the transparisteel, his eyes squeezed shut in anguish. It was an anguish that had haunted the sergeant since the first time they’d left Crosshair on Kamino, though it had become even more pervasive after the city had been razed.
Wrecker had never envied the fact that Hunter had been given the role of sergeant, even if Wrecker was the eldest of their batch. Watching Hunter torn in every direction these last few months had only cemented Wrecker’s desire to never have to lead the squad if he didn’t have to. But even though Wrecker knew that their sergeant’s goals were wildly different from their own, as Hunter pressed a hand to the clear barrier between him and Tech, it was easy to feel his deep concern and unequivocal love for his brothers.
With a soft sigh, Wrecker stepped beside his brother and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the pair beginning their silent vigil.