Veto Privileges

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It was no secret that Crosshair didn't like kids.

He understood the importance of children, not everyone could be a clone.

He didn't get why people wanted to have children. Past the need to continue the species, people wanted children, wanted to care for them, play for them, love them.

He also just didn't really like them. The younger ones in particular. The older they got the more self sufficient they were, the less likely they were to die by doing something stupid like face planting. They had critical thinking skills, and they understood how to use them.

The young ones seemed to be void of all of it. The babies needed constant contact or they would scream or spew like a Krayt dragon. The ones slightly older were all over you, even when they weren't touching you, with drool and spit and snot. They could move around, but it only made them clingier. They were loud and annoying and seemingly everywhere.

Wrecker, on the other hand, loved children.

He loved everything about them.

They were little chaotic bundles of true joy and smiles and laughs. He loved their chubby cheeks, their shrieks as you chased them, their peaceful sighs in their sleep as they snuggled into your chest.

Crosshair was more than happy to let Wrecker take all the child time. Because Crosshair didn't normally like children.

These children weren't normal.

Crosshair gave them their space as Wrecker stood next to the pipe, scooping up children under their armpits and setting them gently on the ground. They scurried past him, over to Crosshair, hovering around his feet. One child eyed him, and he took the hint to hold the end of his rifle towards the sky, even if it was more of a hassle.

These children were absolutely silent. Their eyes were alert like they were afraid to blink and miss a threat. Their clothes hung off their frames like curtains, their small bodies tinted blue skeletons. They were terrified of everything, frozen and flinching.

"That's all of 'em," Wrecker bounded up to them, shepherding the final kids up to the group.

Crosshair frowned as he started to walk backwards, the children following like he was a magnet. "This is 21, and Tech and Meds aren't here!"

Wrecker started pushing the group into a run, herding the children with his hands. "If they're together, they'll be fine!"

"We can't leave them there!" Crosshair kept running, turning to his side to avoid tripping over roots and to protect their 12 'o clock.

Wrecker opened his mouth to respond as the sound wave knocked all the children to the ground, Crosshair tumbling down with them.

Wrecker gasped for the both of them, the only one still standing. His hand was holding up his helmet, staring off towards the blast. From the window the trees made, the damage was irreparable.

They watched as boulders the size of a starship tumbled down into the cavern below, the mine crumbling into a rain of dust and rock.

Crosshair picked himself up along with the children, who were so unsteady their legs shook like baby deer. Crosshair raised his pointer finger up to his ear.

"Tech?"

No response.

"Meds?"

No response.

"Tech, respond!"

Nothing.

Wrecker felt his jaw shake, so he dropped his helmet back down, turning from the wreckage.

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