HUNTER ALREADY REGRETTED AGREEING TO THIS MISSION. The flight to Ponemah had been fine, a bit of tension all around but nothing he couldn't handle. It was once they actually arrived on the planet that all their problems began.

A few things one should know about Ponemah before visiting. One: the planet itself was located in the outer rim. Which was good if one was trying to lie low... and bad if they were traveling with nearly half a dozen children—or cadet-sized adult clones. It was off-putting the amount of looks they'd received as they walked through the market place.

Two: the planet was a dustball. Now Hunter had visited a few desert planets on covert missions, but none quite like Ponemah. Although the sand was annoying, the electromagnetic storms were the real issues. Said storms were the reason that the Remora's navigation system was on the fritz, and half the reason why Hunter's head was pounding with an unwelcome migraine.

Three: the south polar region of the planet—specifically the Sea of Sand, where the Separatist ship supposedly crashed—was extremely inhospitable. On top of the storms, the sand worms that occupied that region made it impossible to traverse on foot, which meant they'd need to rent a speeder which could tolerate the harsh conditions.

Four: the occupants of Ponemah knew how to work the few tourists that were actually insane enough to visit. Which explained the other half of the migraine that Hunter was experiencing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a long, slow breath as he and Echo attempted to haggle down the price that the local vendor had offered. It didn't help that Omega had roped Wrecker and the cadets into playing some kind of chase game. Although Crosshair stood off to the side—leaning against a crate with his arms crossed, the others were drawing quite a bit of unwanted attention.

"The lowest I can go is twenty peggats," the vendor said, casually glancing past Hunter and Echo at the others with an extremely judgemental look.

Hunter glanced over at Echo, waiting on a translation. Echo didn't quite seem pleased with the offer as he converted the units. "About eight hundred credits."

Hunter sighed, massaging his temples. "Just pay the vendor so we can get out of here."

Echo didn't argue. Although he glanced over at Hunter with concern, he handed over the credits they had on hand then handled the final arrangements of the deal. The vendor led him toward the back of the lot where formalities were exchanged and paperwork was taken care of before he returned with the necessary clearance codes to operate the cargo skiff.

"We're all set," Echo confirmed.

Hunter nodded, lifting his fingers to his mouth to release an ear-piercing whistle which immediately halted the game in progress. Wrecker led the groups of cadets back over, grinning from ear to ear while huffing out of breath.

"I still think we should've just borrowed one," Wrecker repeated his earlier objection. "Would've been faster."

"And it would've drawn unwanted attention," Echo countered. "Don't forget that we're still fugitives, and there's probably half a dozen bounty hunters waiting to collect whatever reward has been posted."

"Right..." Wrecker sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he nodded in agreement.

"Just another reminder that we really shouldn't be out here," Hunter retorted under his breath.

"Getting cold feet?" Crosshair questioned, rolling his toothpick between his fingers before placing it back between his teeth.

Hunter's jaw tensed but he shook his head. "No, just wishing we'd move things along."

Crosshair scoffed, rolling his eyes before following after Echo who'd stepped to the front while leading the others back toward the cargo skiff they'd rented out. Navigating their dynamic had been difficult prior to Barton IV. But ever since they'd had that brief vulnerable moment after nearly being digested by the wyrm, Crosshair had challenged anything the sergeant did. He'd viewed his brother through a lens of the past, which the small sniper didn't take kindly to and now seemed set on proving that he hadn't gone soft.

And while Echo had every right to be concerned, he didn't know Crosshair like Hunter did. So until his brother actually showed signs of being incapable, Hunter didn't plan to treat him any differently because the sniper had made it clear that he didn't want to be treated differently. And so if Crosshair was going to be stubborn and prickly, Hunter would remain stiff and skeptical.

"Could we name the ship?" Omega asked, breaking the tense silence as she glanced over at Hunter. They'd been traveling for nearly an hour and the sandy horizon still looked the same as when they'd left the outpost.

Hunter blinked, snapping free of the thoughts clouding his mind. He couldn't help but smile and chuckle under his breath as he processed what she'd asked. "You want to name the cargo skiff we rented?"

"Does it already have a name?" Omega asked, tilting her head.

"No...?" Hunter hesitantly replied, only growing more confused.

"Then we should name it!" Omega insisted, growing giddy. She gasped with excitement, bouncing on her toes. "I know! What about the Liberator?"

"The Liberator?" Hunter questioned, smiling as he repeated the title.

"Yeah!" Omega quickly defended her choice. "We're liberating Count Dooku's treasure aren't we?"

Hunter chuckled under his breath and shook his head with amusement. "Echo said the treasure was rumored to be on the ship. We might not find anything at all." Seeing the look of disappointment that crossed her face, he softened and placed a hand on her shoulder. "But the Liberator sounds like a great name."

Omega's smile returned as she leaned against Hunter and turned to look at the others scattered about the skiff. Echo had been left with the responsibility of steering and navigating through the desert. Wrecker was entertaining the Domino trio—or maybe it was the other way around. And Crosshair again had placed himself on the outskirts of the group, staring at the horizon from the front of the skiff.

"He cut his hair," Omega declared out-of-the-blue, catching Hunter slightly off-guard.

He hid it well as he nodded his head, turning to look toward the front of the skiff. "I know."

It wasn't the only thing he'd noticed at that morning's mission debriefing either. He'd noticed the tired circles beneath the sniper's alert eyes. He'd noticed the bacta bandage wrapped around his dominant hand. He'd noticed the tremor in said hand whenever it was established that physically the group really was just a bunch of kids. And he'd noticed the slight crack in his voice as if he'd spent another night screaming through the nightmares.

"Have you talked with him?" Omega asked, not nearly as discretely or innocently as she thought she was being.

"No," Hunter admitted. And from the look he received, he offered an explanation. "He doesn't want to talk, and you can't force him to. He'll open up when he's ready. We just have to be patient."

"Are you sure you're not just avoiding it because you're scared?" Omega accused, lifting her brow as she glanced up at him.

"I'm not avoiding it," he replied. Omega didn't look convinced. "He doesn't need me hovering—"

"Of course he needs you!" Omega interrupted. She softened. "You're his brother... He'll always need you."

Hunter was silenced by her gentle outburst. They remained still in the quiet for another minute or so, just long enough for Hunter to glance back toward the front of the cargo skiff and consider going over to speak with the sniper. However, the moment was interrupted as Echo called for his attention.

"Hunter."

The sergeant consoled Omega's hidden disappointment by gently squeezing her shoulder as he passed with a whispered promise. "I'll talk to him later."

Omega sighed and muttered under her breath. "That's what you say..."

Hunter glanced back toward the front of the ship one last time before jogging to meet Echo. He glanced over the equipment, noticing the occasional glitch with the software. "What's wrong?"

"Aside from the electromagnetic interference that's making the navigation system malfunction... that." Echo turned Hunter's attention toward the horizon line off to the left side of the skiff while pointing toward the large cloud of dust racing in their direction. "We can't exactly find cover and we're still a ways off from the coordinates of the crash site."

"Can we outrun it?" Hunter asked.

"If we increase our speed, sure," Echo nodded. "But then we run the risk of running out of fuel on the return trip and stranding ourselves out here."

"Which likely leaves us with the same problem on the return anyway," Hunter noted, his brow twisting with thought as he considered his options. Echo nodded in agreement, having reached the same conclusion prior to calling the sergeant over. Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, poorly ignoring the spike of intensity from the headache he'd consistently experienced all afternoon before coming to a decision. "Alright, let's—"

He was interrupted as the entire cargo skiff jolted and nearly knocked him from his feet. The only thing that saved his balance was the control console itself.

"Karking hell, what was that?" Hunter incredulously questioned as he glanced at Echo. Before he could receive an answer, the skiff lurched again as if something had collided with them from behind.

This time, Echo and Hunter rushed to the right side of the ship just as the disturbance shimmered into existence. Whatever cloaking shield had hidden the sand barge had been turned off as a series of harpoons lodged themselves onto the deck of the Liberator.

Hunter's eyes widened with alarm, quickly retrieving his vibroknife from its sheath to cut away the cables tethered to each of the harpoons. Echo was reacting on the same wavelength. It only took a second or so more for Wrecker to catch on and join them.

"Where'd these guys even come from?" Wrecker hollered over his shoulder as he ripped one of the harpoons from the deck then hurled it back toward the sand barge where it had come from.

"Pirates!" Omega exclaimed as if that answered their questions as she and the cadets joined the group. She was grinning ear-to-ear and shot Hunter an 'I-told-you-so' look. "They've got to be after Dooku's treasure too!"

Rather than argue, Hunter prioritized their escape. "Echo, see if we can outmaneuver them. The skiff is smaller, so a change of direction might catch them off-guard. Wrecker, gather whatever explosives we've got on board to give us a fighting chance. Crosshair, scout for weaknesses. Anything we can use to our advantage."

"And what can we do?" Omega asked.

"Help Wrecker," Hunter replied, knowing there'd be little point in telling her to find someplace to hide. She and the others would find some way to enter the fight, the best he could do was control how involved they were. The group split and immediately jumped into whatever task they'd been assigned.

Their speed increased as they pulled away from the sand barge, dodging and weaving to decrease the amount of harpoons that embedded themselves into the Liberator's deck. While Wrecker, Omega, and the Dominoes gathered the weapons they'd brought from the Remora, Crosshair had snatched a full sized rifle and posted himself up on a crate to look through its scope.

Hunter continued to cut away at the cables of the harpoons which did land; however, it wasn't nearly enough as the sand barge began to reel in the Liberator with the few he hadn't gotten to yet.

Several Weequay pirates leaned over the edge of the sand barge's rails, eagerly awaiting the moment the cargo skiff was close enough to board. One or two tried a moment too soon, but fell into the depths of the desert sands as Hunter cut away the cables which kept them suspended between the vessels.

"There's a crack in the hull!" Crosshair shouted to be heard over the whipping wind of the high speed chase. "Wrecker, focus your attack on the hull!"

The first of the pirates finally made it on board, and several others were beginning to follow as they slid down the cables. Hunter rushed to meet the pirate, engaging in an uneven battle of vibroknife versus electrostaff. It was clear he was losing ground, especially as a second pirate interrupted the duel with an attack of his own.

"Crosshair, I need you to start picking them off!" Hunter relayed his orders, hardly noticing the way the sniper's hand began to tremble with shaken confidence as he was too focused on dodging as many blows as he could. He quickly learned that losing focus meant a staff slammed into his ribs. He gasped for air, but continued to slash at the duo which had turned into a quartet. "Wrecker, any time now!"

The blasterfire which echoed from behind was neither comforting or alarming as it could have come from either side. Wrecker's battle cry could be heard somewhere off to the right, immediately followed by the screams of pirates which were tossed overboard.

A scorch march seared the deck near Hunter's foot a second before the pirate to his left dropped with a bolt mark steaming from his shoulder and forehead. Another dropped a moment later and Hunter handled the last two on his own before shooting an appreciative look toward Crosshair. The small sniper saluted before turning his attention back toward those forcibly trying to board the Liberator.

Of course, a spike of discomfort settled in Hunter's gut as he picked up on a few small details. Crosshair had discarded the sniper rifle and was instead using the DC-17 that had been gifted by Cody's mandalorian crew. And while it was concerning that the sniper wasn't using his weapon of choice, the inconsistent record he was tallying was more alarming. Each pirate that Crosshair had taken down had more than one laser burn as it had required sometimes four shots to finish off one opponent. The same could be said for those that Crosshair was firing on from a distance, only those at times had taken five or six shots to hit his target.

"Stand back!" Wrecker exclaimed, rushing forward with the crude and roughly constructed explosive he'd assembled. "Where am I throwing this?"

"The hull, Wrecker!" Crosshair hissed as he missed another shot. "Aim for the hull."

The air was thick with sand as Wrecker hurled the volatile device toward the hull of the encroaching sand barge. Hunter cut away the last of the cables just as the explosive connected with the metal plating of the pirate vessel. They were much too close—a mistake Echo tried to amend by quickly yanking on the controls to clear the blast impact. Unfortunately, said decision drove them deeper into the sand storm and forced the entire skiff to lurch suddenly without warning.

Hunter's already bruised side slammed against the rails of the skiff and he nearly found himself falling overboard from the shift in momentum. As he straightened and regained his balance, his head was ringing from the electromagnetic frequencies overloading his senses as the skiff was pulled deeper into the storm. However, he ignored the pain to focus on his surroundings—squinting through the sand to tally a head count. His heart dropped when he realized that he was one short, and the crate to his left was missing the presence of one snarky sniper.

He met Wrecker's gaze which held the same amount of fear as they reached the same conclusion. Only the sergeant was the one to voice the question. "Where's Crosshair?"

∘₊✧───────────────────────────✧₊∘

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞| Finally getting back into some action to drive the plot forward. I've got some pretty exciting stuff planned for the next chapter which I'm hoping to post sometime over the next couple of days. Thanks for all the comments and votes, y'all are amazing!