Jedi Fugitive (The Bad Batch)

75:

Astera:

Hunter didn't let go of me once, not even after he'd helped me into a seat for Echo to treat my various injuries with the limited resources we had. He'd remained close, his hand on my shoulder, and at some point I'd unconsciously grabbed for it, clutching his gloved fingers in my own like it was my last lifeline. It certainly felt that way. Tech had been in my grasp. If only I'd been faster. Or...

I could have lifted the rail car instead. I thumped my fist down on the console when I finally thought of the solution, burying my face in my hands and forcing back a scream of frustration. Only now did the thought occur to me, long after it would have been helpful. That would have been the smart thing to do. If only I'd thought of it in the moment. Maybe he'd be here with us, rather than forced to forfeit his own life so we could escape.

I didn't miss the pained and absolutely desolate expressions of the other clones, occasionally drawing tighter when they remembered their brother was gone. It was enough to have me pulling the Force as tightly as I could into myself, unable to even bear trying to feel their emotions. I could barely stand seeing the pain on their faces. If I had to feel it too? I would surely break.

Tech's death was my fault. If I had done better, he'd be here. They all had to know that. I couldn't face any of them knowing that - when Hunter finally let go of me to remove his chestplate and treat his own fractured ribs, I broke away from all of them, going to the rack where Omega still lay unconscious and keeping watch over her.

The bacta had already begun to work by the time the ship touched down on Ord Mantell, but it was still too painful to walk more than a few steps by myself. Wrecker, who'd done some real damage to his neck and could barely move it, helped me to Cid's parlour this time, Hunter carrying Omega and Echo remaining on the ship to contact Rex and guard the ship.

Cid had begun a tirade against us nearly as soon as the door had hissed open and she'd registered our presence, levelling insults, threats and colourful words at us until Hunter had managed to interrupt her, nearly begging her to let us stay just long enough for AZI to tend to Omega and let her wake up. Entreating the side of her we all knew cared for the kid. And it had worked - wordlessly she directed Hunter and Omega to the back room with AZI before returning to the bar, snatching up a glass and beginning to polish it with more force than necessary. I took one look at her and limped after Hunter; I was in no mood to deal with her griping. We'd leave it to Wrecker to explain what had happened.

He laid her down on the bed, the same bed I'd once woken up when I'd first come to her all those months ago, and AZI immediately got to work, the blue light from his medical scanner passing over her and a bacta injector deploying from his body to jab into her arm.

"How is she?" I asked when the droid finally retreated from her and turned to us, scanning Hunter first, then me.

"She will be fine," the droid warbled, his repulsorlifts whirring audibly as he drifted towards a case of medical supplies at the back of the room, extra arms picking up more bacta injectors, bandages and what looked to be cleansing agents. "She had sustained some injury, but she should wake up momentarily. You and the sergeant, however, require immediate medical attention."

I couldn't even protest when he almost forced me to prop my injured leg up, spraying the stinging cleansing agent onto the blaster wound and wrapping it with skillful precision. The whole thing took probably less than thirty seconds, and soon he had repeated the process on my arm and ribs, moving onto Hunter and carefully bandaging his own torso.

"Barring any complications, both of you should make a full recovery from your injuries. I will administer to Wrecker." He was already halfway out the door by the time he words had left his voice box, the sounds of his repulsorlifts rapidly fading and leaving us both in silence. Hunter turned his attention back to Omega, brushing stray locks of hair from her face tenderly.