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Crosshair, through the short years of his life, had experienced more atrocities and horrors than any other sentient being. Of this he was certain.
He remembered the experiments each of his brothers and himself endured as young cadets. The ones that would leave them broken and bleeding. Huddled closely together in the tiniest of bunks.
He remembered when acid had seeped its way into Wrecker’s skull. It shattered his helmet like glass. It felt his brother howling in pain. Half-blind.
He remembered when Hunter had taken hours upon hours of torture for the three of them. The electrostaff their captors had used on him gave him seizures for weeks after.
He remembered when Tech had been impaled on Devaron. He pushed himself to protect his squad and complete the mission until his body could no longer take it. Until he collapsed.
He remembered village after village being destroyed by both sides of the war. Parents left without children. Children with no parents.
And a lone brother having to navigate the galaxy on his own.
This was the present, where he spent day in and day out being subjected to a thousand different torture methods for a thousand different attempts for Crosshair to give up information on his family. It started with the interrogation droid and the electric shocks that came with it. After that failed, it moved to being soaked in ice cold water and tortured with additional electric shocks. Now, he was being threatened with the use of modified Genosian brain worms to take control of his mind and force information out of him.
Day in and day out, he was subjected to method after method for information about his family.
Information he didn’t have to begin with.
Information he wouldn’t have given up even if he did.
Yet now, without a doubt in his mind, the most harrowing sight befalling his enhanced eyes was the rusted golden eyes of his younger brother.
The haunted look wasn’t helped by the fact that his goggles were missing, making Tech completely blind to their surroundings. Crosshair had done a double take when Tech was first rolled in on a gurney next to him, unused to seeing his brother without his goggles unless he was sleeping. Even now, if Crosshair squinted and let his mind drift, he could stare at the form of his slumbering brother and pretend that everything was alright, and they were simply on the Marauder .
He knew better, though. They were far, far from the Marauder , and from the rest of their family.
The absence of Tech’s goggles hadn’t been the only reason he hadn’t recognized his brother, though.
He was a ghost of himself, of the Tech that Crosshair had once known yet still loved. Crosshair could tell something had befallen Tech in order for him to be by his side, whispers of a fall and an extended period in a bacta tank from the Imperial guards all Crosshair could gather.
Whatever injuries Tech sustained in whatever fall he’d suffered, the bacta tank hadn’t been enough to heal him. The pokes and prods of various scientists, despite Crosshair’s hisses to leave Tech alone, told him Tech was paralyzed from the waist down with minimal movement left in his hands. He caught the glint of cybernetic organs embedded in Tech’s abdomen from time to time, and it made Crosshair nauseous to think of the injuries Tech had suffered in order to receive such medical intervention.
What scared him the most out of everything, though, was Tech hadn’t said a word since he’d been brought in.
Crosshair knew he was alive, his enhanced eyes watching for the steady rise of his chest whenever he could. But even if his brother was alive, he’d been rendered silent. He was silent, and it terrified Crosshair more than anything else.
It didn’t matter how many times Crosshair called out his name, nor told Tech he was here, Tech never once responded. There were none of the characteristic rambles from his younger brother, but Crosshair knew he would have given his life on this table to hear so much as a word from his younger brother.
But, even as the days came and went, Tech remained silent as his golden eyes rusted more and more.
And Crosshair was helpless to watch his brother fade away.
If he thought logically, as his brother so often did, he would have come to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do, strapped in place as he was. He couldn’t break from his restraints, not without running the risk of getting himself killed and leaving Tech alone. Or worse, he’d break free and they’d punish him by hurting his younger brother.
Only, he didn’t think like Tech, didn’t think logically. He thought like an older brother. Tech’s older brother. For all that befall them, he still loved him. Watching him slowly wither away only stood for Crosshair to love him more. He missed him. He didn’t want to lose him again.
Neither of them were subjected to torture any longer, only being held captive now to serve as the sources of genetic extractions for the Imperials. Still, getting blood and bone marrow and tissue of all kinds sliced from his body cloaked his brother in an unrecognized weariness. His warm skin dulled and his golden eyes rusted, Crosshair knew his younger brother didn’t have much fight left in him.
At least, not until the Imperial scientist assigned to him - Emerie , he remembered - left one of his restraints undone one day and called off the guards in the room. They had listened, for a reason Crosshair wasn’t certain of, and Emerie gave him the slightest of nods before leaving the room.
Crosshair didn’t trust the Imperial scientist, not even after she gave him her name and made it clear she was a possible ally. But she had not made herself his enemy, and Crosshair would take that when it was all he was given.
His trust in her didn’t matter, though. Only Tech did.
The thought was his main motivator in stumbling forward to Tech’s gurney. He hadn’t walked in days and his legs were weak below him, but nothing would stop him from reaching Tech.
The moment he reached Tech’s side, Crosshair instantly unlatched the restraints across Tech’s form. His skin was cool, far cooler than Tech should be. The layers of muscle hidden beneath his armor were long gone now as well, replaced with thinning flesh that spoke nothing of the capable man his brother was. Crosshair was always the one out of the two of them who was thin and ran cold. A pit grew within his stomach at the realization of how much of Tech had been stolen by the Empire.
Crosshair quickly moved to lift his brother into his arms once he was freed, settling both of them to the ground so he could more easily be at his brother’s side. Tech made a small questioning noise as Crosshair did so, his eyes popping open with fear before relaxing at the sight of Crosshair. He knew he was blurry in his brother’s eyes, but years spent together meant Tech would be able to recognize Crosshair anywhere, just as Crosshair could for any of his brothers.
“Tech,” Crosshair began, his voice shaky in a way he’d never heard it before. “I’m here. It’s Crosshair. I’ve got you.”
Crosshair hoped that his own words would prompt at least one from his younger brother, but he remained silent and cold in his arms. Even if he was silent, he was still reactive to Crosshair. The slightest bit of life had returned to his eyes now, and Tech sunk into Crosshair’s hold in a way he hadn’t since they were cadets. Back then, they’d huddled together in need of comfort after dealing with Kaminoans and regs all day. Even with Tech’s touch aversion, he was quick to crawl into Crosshair’s arms and hide against his chest.
How different they were now. Different, yet in the exact same position as they once were.
Tech’s head was against his chest, and it was mere instinct that led Crosshair to rub soothing circles into Tech’s scalp. His hair was far longer than the cropped, neat cut Tech preferred, but Crosshair enjoyed the sensation of the grown-out curls between his fingers.
It took a few moments of the soft scalp circles and simply holding Tech until his brother shifted a hand to Crosshair’s forearm to sign the motions assigned to Crosshair’s name. They all learned galactic sign years ago when they were young, both for the benefit it would provide on missions and as a form of communication when Hunter’s senses became overstimulated to the point he needed complete silence.
Even if Tech wasn’t speaking yet, Crosshair still felt a surge of relief in his heart that his brother was communicating with him how he was able to. For all he knew, the rumored fall had destroyed Tech’s vocal cords. There could have been injuries and their complications that Tech was battling that were more than skin-deep, and Crosshair would be none the wiser. He didn’t dare glance down at the cybernetic organs he knew lingered beneath Tech’s shirt, but he doubted they would be the only thing Tech needed.
None of that mattered now, though. He had Tech in his arms, and all he could focus on was how good it felt to have one of his brothers back.
Even if, as much as he was glad for the company, he wished Tech was far, far from here.
Pulling Tech closer to him, Crosshair sighed. “What are you even doing here, Tech? Did you not get my signal about Plan 88?”
A pause, then unsteady, shaking hands signing slowly in front of him, as if rust had seeped into Tech’s joints and made him struggle to move. We intercepted your signal. However, we could not leave you here without attempting to rescue you. You are our brother. My brother. We do not leave our own behind. I had to come find you.
Crosshair’s breath hitched, tears flooding his eyes as he interpreted Tech’s signs. His love for his family had never once faded, even all the pain they’d caused him since he’d idiotically aligned himself with the Empire, but he had long since convinced himself that his love was not returned. He’d assumed his family had given up on him and, most days, it made things easier to continue. After all, he couldn’t disappoint them if they didn’t love him anymore.
Even if the love of his family was what he desired most in the entire galaxy.
Fighting down his tears, Crosshair pulled Tech closer to him and buried his head against his brother. “Tech … no. You should have run. You should be far from here, forgetting about me rather than stuck here because of me. I’m sorry.”
Your apology is not necessary, Crosshair . The risk to come to your aid was calculated, and we all determined our desire to make an attempt at rescuing you. As I have said before, we do not leave our own behind.
The final words are repeated, emphasis by sign with as much force as Tech can muster. He meant these words. All of them. Undeniably so.
We do not leave our own behind.
It only made the tears he’d been successfully holding back slip from his eyes, soaking the material of his younger brother’s shirt. Tech didn’t seem to care even as Crosshair sobbed against him, shakily lifting a hand to rest on Crosshair’s forearm and rub circles into his skin. No words were signed nor spoken, but the simple hand on his arm was enough to slowly soothe Crosshair’s crying. He hadn’t cried like this in ages. Not after all he had been through. It had taken being in the arms of a brother for him to finally break.
Releasing his brother the slightest bit so he could wipe his tears, Crosshair continued his questions. “Then just … tell me what happened. Did the others get taken, too?”
Tech sucked in a breath at Crosshair’s words, his index finger tapping lightly against Crosshair’s arm in thought.
Plan 99, Crosshair. It … I enacted Plan 99. I saved the others, but I do not know if they made it to safety.
Crosshair’s heart sunk.
Plan 99.
A last-ditch effort to save their brothers.
A sacrifice.
Tech had sacrificed himself for their family, all to be met with a fate worse than death. It landed him here, with Crosshair, and some small, selfish part of him greets Tech’s words with relief. He wished Tech could be far from here and unharmed. He wished Tech had run.
But just the same, Crosshair had yearned for comfort in the countless cycles he has spent alone. Now Crosshair clung to the idea of no longer being alone.
Leaning closer to his brother, Crosshair pressed their foreheads together. Seeking comfort. He stayed there until their breathing sighed in time with the other’s. Tech’s eyes fluttered shut at the closeness, his brother relaxing in his hold. He was tired, Crosshair could tell that much, and he willed his brother to sleep as he held him. He would keep him safe like this, a promise that was unspoken but understood as Tech settled against him.
“If they’re safe, they’ll come find us,” Crosshair replied, adjusting Tech to be comfortable against him. “They’ll find us. Rest now, Tech. I have you.”
Whether the reassurance was for Tech or himself, Crosshair didn’t know. All he knew was he had to have faith in his brothers, in Hunter, for the first time in far too long. If not for himself, then for Tech.
For a chance for the rusted gold to clear from his eyes, and the warmth he remembered fondly to return to them.