Shadows and Shades (#4 Post-Order 66 Series)

Shadows and Shades - Part 8

A/N: Heads up for description of character death and canon-typical violence in this chapter.

Iden only came out of the bedroom a few times throughout the rest of the day, and frankly, Crosshair was relieved. Every time she appeared, he felt his gut twist with guilt and anxiety, trying to figure out what to say or if he should even say anything at all. To make matters worse, Iden seemed wholly uninterested in interacting with him unless absolutely necessary. She came out to the kitchen to grab some food and a few tools to hook up the data pad for the file transfer. Other than that, she might as well have not even been there. He desperately wanted to speak with her, to fumble through some semblance of apology, to ask about Nisa, anything.

Where would I even start?

To deal with the stress, Crosshair resorted to his oldest habit for killing time: cleaning his Firepuncher. As he yanked the bag out from where he'd stowed it underneath the couch, he found he felt eager to hold the weapon again. It had been a long while since he'd felt the metal against his fingers and the weight of the rifle in his hands. As he unpacked each of the components, he felt Howzer watching him with interest. The captain had stretched, done push-ups, inspected almost every corner of the dwelling twice over, and was clearly running out of things to fill the time. Don't exactly have a lot to keep him entertained.

"That the Firepuncher you had?" Howzer asked as Crosshair unzipped the case.

"It is."

"Would you like some company?"

Crosshair considered it for a moment before shrugging, popping another toothpick between his teeth. "Sure."

Howzer sat in the chair across from him as he carefully laid out the parts on the small dining table, organized by subassembly. Taking out the cleaning kit, Crosshair began meticulously inspecting and polishing the pieces, starting with the lower assemblies and working his way up in a ritual he'd completed thousands of times over the course of the war. Howzer kept his hands to himself, occasionally asking questions about the various modifications Crosshair had made. He showed a genuine interest that made Crosshair miss Omega a bit, although he'd never admit it. She'd asked many of the same questions when he'd first returned to his brothers, sitting with him for hours while he worked on his rifle. It was how she'd helped him reassimilate to the squad, and to his surprise, it had been the easiest relationship to repair. Children have short memories and hold fewer grudges. Also, she's always seemed to understand us all to a slightly unnerving degree. She knew it was the chip and never harbored any resentment for my actions because of that.

"Did you build in redundancy on that power unit?" Howzer's question brought his mind back to the present.

Crosshair looked down at the component in his hand that he was inspecting. He'd popped off the side panel to inspect the circuitry, and Howzer was leaning forward slightly in his chair to get a better view. "I did," he replied. "Added in a separate circuit since that's one of the more common failures seen in rifles such as these." Crosshair held the unit out to Howzer. The captain hesitated for a moment before taking the subassembly from his hands, carefully examining the exposed circuit board and wiring.

"That's excellent work. You do this yourself?"

Crosshair smirked. "I had the idea, but my technical skills aren't nearly precise enough for something that small. My brother helped with that."

Howzer nodded. "I'm guessing not Hunter or the one with the scomp arm I met then."

"No, there are two others in my squad. Tech, our technical specialist that also doubles as our pilot, and our demolitions expert, Wrecker. If you'd met them, you'd remember. Tech never shuts his trap about whatever he's working on or to correct you, and Wrecker's massive and loud with no sense of personal space." He smiled to himself. "Shockingly, I'm the quiet one."