There are still a few things running through Crosshair's mind while working for the Empire. His own thoughts, to be exact, not having become a full automaton for the imperial creed after all.
And so, taking some inner inventory, personal stock - of the choices and mistakes made. This is to be done, before deciding on the ultimate change in his very own life. Because there needs to be one! And soon too!
If there is one thing. Then that one thing is, that Crosshair realises how totally irked, pissed, karked, kriffed and whatever more unmentioned synonyms/profanities there might just be to describe how he is really feeling. Towards the Empire, towards the regime of it all.
Set somewhere in the Star Wars and the Bad Batch galaxy of things.
Not one single karking person cares!
'Sometimes enough is enough, even for the most hardened soldier'
Crosshair was miffed. Totally riled up, utterly vexed and feeling really, really irritated at the very moment.
Well, it wasn't really new for him, these kinds of feelings. Not really. But especially today, it seemed that his feelings, his emotions, had become somewhat elevated. And maintaining his sense of calm was becoming harder and harder. Remaining objective and on the side lines, impossible at best.
And the reason? Well…
As it was, the latest mission, while a total success in the eyes of the Empire? Well, it had been totally contrary in Crosshair's book! It had all sucked, royally!. And not in the good kind of feeling way either! The mission, the end results of the mission, all of it!
Pacing in his cramped quarters, the ever growing impatience present there. And Crosshair was fuming. Literally. Smoke almost visible around him. Yammering on about what he really thought about the latest stint was all Crosshair could do though. There, in the supposed privacy of his room.
"Who the kark does Rampart think he is? What the kriff were those last minute order changes about anyway?"
There were more questions than answers in Crosshair's mind as he kept on reeling the same scenes of the mission over and over again. Speaking out loud to himself.
"Your loyalty and determination are commendable!"
The words of the Admiral's still ringing fresh in Crosshair's mind.
"Yeah right! As if that bastard really cared about any of it! Loyalties? For whom? For the Empire? For Rampart? My shebs! None of them care about anyone except themselves! The fat tookas they are!"
Yeah, it had been that kind of a mission.
Crosshair having prepared the plan good and well before hand. Then having given the specs to his squad. On what to do. The best tactics for it.
Only everything to have been scratched by the Vice Admiral just as they had been on approach to their target location and then replaced by a completely new set of orders!
What an utter waste!
"What the kark is the point in all this? What does the work matter if they simply go and change everything? And to what end? More corpses to be stacked? It made no sense at all!"
Crosshair felt defeated. His yammering slowly but surely simmering down, before a whisper escaped his lips.
"What do I matter?"
Crosshair knew he had it in him though.
To be a good soldier, but also to be a great Commander. Hadn't he already proven all that? Pulling out several successful missions, all of which he himself had made the plans for and executed them to the letter with the Admiral's stamp of approval of course. Wasn't that the reason for the accolades?
But, no. And this wasn't the first time either. It had actually been happening more frequently during the recent months. The plans being subverted at the very last minute. As if the trust in Crosshair's abilities were somehow gone. Or was there something more to it?
This was the reason behind Crosshair having started doubting his own usefulness in the grand scheme of things. In the Empire.
Being just another clone, another cog in the machine? That had not been the plan now had it? No, the plan had been being a part of something bigger, being someone needed, someone better.
"They are only using you. Can't you see that?"
Hunter's words playing there somewhere. The warning of his Batch mate issued some time ago popping up more and more frequently as well.
So what had gone wrong then? For Crosshair and his big plans?
"None of them care! Not one single kark of the lot cares about me!"
Because that was the whole point of it all now wasn't it?
For Crosshair to be someone. Not just another clone. A creation of of something which no longer existed. But a person of his very own. Not part of some group or team. But someone special. Someone to be revered. Someone to be needed. The Commander, Commander Crosshair.
But right now, it did not look that way at all. And most likely, things were not going to improve for Crosshair either. Not if the rumours were any true.
And with the Empire, the rumours, especially the rumours, were always true.
What the Kriff do I care anyway?
'Caring for others? Why bother if the caring does not go both ways, right?'
Early morning rise and Crosshair had not slept one single moment.
Another mission briefing waiting for him. And this time around, Crosshair had not even bothered to do any preparation for it. Why should he have bothered? Rampart would have changed them again just the same. And if Crosshair was to reprimanded for neglecting to do his job? Well, so be it!
On top of it all, Crosshair's shower head had broken down in the middle of his morning ablutions!
"Karking, kriffing, kark!"
All shampooed and no water to wash it off of his body!
Running out of from the fresher butt naked and trying to place a call to the maintenance of the building to come the kriff and fix his shower. And right now. Only to be put on hold!
In the end, Crosshair managed to splash some water from the tap to get the soapy substance off of his body. The deed however, resulting for the whole fresher floor to flood!
But Crosshair was way too sick and literally too tired to care about any of the happenings right at the moment. He was not the one doing the cleanup after all!
And then having missed breakfast in the mess hall due to this very incident!
As Crosshair was definitely going to be late from his morning meeting in Rampart's office. So the choice was clear. No food and get to the meeting on time. At least, the Admiral could not pin that on him!
Crosshair only had two ration bars left to chew on with yesterday's half cup of caf sitting on the table. Both of which tasted bland and stale. But that would have to do for now. He could try to get something from the canteen later.
"Fowl is more like it!"
The words bursting from his mouth as he drank the caf from the day before.
Yeah, Crosshair was not a happy camper at all. Everything having gone wrong even before the day had started. And the sleepless night did not help either. Those starting to accumulate in a neat row now. Having been the norm for a while as well.
Guess he could nap in the shuttle?
But, after all that happening. Even with the thoughts jumping up and down in his mind. Reminding him how bad things really were for him.
Crosshair still put on his blacks, his armour and picked up his weapons kit. Being the very good soldier he was. And Crosshair totally was. Always following orders, even if he had started to question them more and more each passing day.
But what was he going to do about it? What could he even do about it?
Crosshair had made his choice after all. For better or worse. Crosshair was a soldier of the Empire. He was the Commander he wanted to be. And Crosshair would remain one for the foreseeable future, perhaps his very life.
Sighing heavily, placing his toothpick of comfort between his lips as he started out from his quarters.
"Another day in the Sithspit of a hole of the Empire! But what do I care?!"
Sighing again, only much louder. And with that, Crosshair was out the door and heading for another day in the, well, Sithspit hole, that of the Empire's.
Burn, Baby, Burn!
'Thinking about doing something or then actually doing something, two different things, right?'
It had been several weeks now and Crosshair's mood was certainly not getting any better. What a surprise! And then with the mounting things of kark to his pile… Well, there had been a decision brewing there somewhere deep inside of Crosshair for a while. And so, the one final thing which finally broke this specific Eopie's back? Rampart, taking away his very command! One kriffing mistake! And it had not even been Crosshair's to make!
"Damn the Empire! Damn them all to hell! There's fire on my blood now!"
Crosshair was cussing the imperials to the deepest holes of hell. This was it. And something, was about to break. Soon.
The night shift was a quiet one and now, since Crosshair had been reduced to a simple foot solider. He had plenty of time on his hands. To plan and to implement.
And boy, was Crosshair about to implement!
Crosshair had made his way to the data room of the base. With his plan to access the communications array and to send out a signal of his own making. It was a simple message and Crosshair knew it would reach all the clones still serving the Empire.
Even if he had no fondness for the regs, Crosshair felt he owed them at least that much.
A message sent over an old GAR frequency, Crosshair made sure it would reach them all. After all, having learnt a thing or few from Tech. Well, Crosshair was totally confident he could hack into the system and send his little surprise of a message.
"Get out! Now!"
Simple as that. Just a friendly warning for them all. Because this place, the base on Coruscant. The pride and joy of Palpatine, was about to get obliterated!
Crosshair no stranger to explosives of any kind, especially having been a keen observer of his brother Wrecker, Crosshair had made plenty of notes of his own. And those notes would become useful about right now.
So, when the time came to rig the explosives around the base, Crosshair had made his best to hide them and make them as undetectable as possible for any scanners. Yeah, Crosshair had become just that good. Having been part of the best squad in the galaxy had made him that.
Moving around the base he knew all too well, with stealth, Crosshair made sure to plant enough of the stuff all over.
Because when it was time, Crosshair was totally prepared to watch it all burn down. Down to the very ground. He could only hope, that those poor bastards, the regs, would heed his warning and leave.
And perhaps, on some level, even if this was for Crosshair's own revenge only, those supposed rebels, because he knew they were out there, would take notes of his doings as well.
Either way, Crosshair, was going to leave the Empire and make them pay for ever crossing him!
And so, the d-day was upon.
Crosshair could not help the light chuckle escaping from deep within. Something which he thought he had lost for good. This good feeling he was having right now.
Pushing the button, it was happening. The explosives going off one by one.
And, as Crosshair watched the place crumbling down bit by bit, the chuckle continued to reverberate until his annexed ship was far out of reach and on its way.
Away from the Empire.
"Burn baby, burn!"
The sentiment, the chuckle, all of it because someone had dared to cross, Crosshair.
Breaking free, finally!
'The long road ahead might have looked scary, but with determination, anything was possible to conquer, even one's own fears'
The smoking ruins of the base on Coruscant was all that remained as the day's first rays hit the skyline of the city.
The whole base pretty much in rubbles.
Several hundreds small size ships and other craft had taken flight just before the explosion had hit hard. It was still unknown as to the whom it had been flying away and where they were even headed. All of them having vanished into thin space as it were.
Pretty much the whole officer level of the base had been obliterated. And plenty of high ranking officers, including Admiral Rampart and Tarkin were missing in action as the day break was upon and reports of the base having blown up reached the Emperor's office.
But, as it was. None of the citizens of said Empire, seemed to be mourning the loss of any of it.
Rather the contrary. As the news of the destruction of the flagship base of the Empire spread across the galaxy like wild fire, people actually took to the streets in celebration. Singing their praise for whomever it was who had blown the place up!
None of them the wiser though. That it had just been only one man, a clone no less doing it. And just, because he could. Because the Empire had pissed him off. This time, for the last time!
Crosshair was sitting in the cockpit of his vessel.
The hint of a coy smirk still very much present there. He could see the reflection of his face on the viewport, and Crosshair was liking what he saw. The new him, with a sort of a smiley face? Surely something he would have mocked in the past. But not any more.
The vessel was the one he had chosen carefully. Stocked to the hilt with plenty of needed things for his long journey ahead. Having made sure it was untraceable as well.
Crosshair was already far away from the place he had tried to call his home. For a while. At least, he thought it had been that. A home. But, from now on end, this ship, would serve as such. His very own home.
As from now on end, Crosshair would serve no one.
Crosshair was free from it all. Having made sure, his dog tags would be found in the rubble of the base. Crosshair would be assumed dead. And so, nobody was going to come after him. Crosshair would not be needing anyone or anything but himself to survive.
And that was the promise Crosshair had made himself.
Setting his destination to a star system far away past the Outer Rim, Crosshair was finally on his way to his new life of his own choosing. And no Empire nor anyone else, would tell him he could not do it, nor that he could not make it work.
Because Crosshair could and would, do just that. Become a master of his own life!
And with that very through in mind, Crosshair punched the keys for the hyperspace engines to come to life. Heading for a destination unknown. But of his very own choosing.
You don't want to summon, Crosshair, after all.