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lifblogs · 7 hours ago

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Fam, if you love Kanan, and love Crosshair, this is a must read.

The Sniper and the Jedi

Summer of Bad Batch 2025 | Week 6 | Prompt: "May the Force be with you, or whatever."

Summary: Crosshair is confronted by events from his past - events he wishes he could forget. POV: Crosshair Rating: PG (Word Count: 4892)

Read on Ao3

Notes: This takes place sometime between the events shown in episode 4 "In the Name of the Rebellion" and episode 5 "The Occupation" from season 4 of "Rebels." Also, I saw the prompt and intended to think up a humorous story... but this idea came and would. not. leave. my. brain. So here we are. It DOES have a happy ending!

“We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in three minutes,” Omega called over her shoulder.

Crosshair suppressed a yawn as sidled onto the flight deck to stand next to his sister. “Good,” he said, “this mission has already taken far longer than you said it would.”

“And it will likely take even longer,” Tech put in idly, “as I imagine Omega’s contact will want to know what caused the delay.”

Omega patted Crosshair’s arm sympathetically and almost managed to hide the teasing twinkle in her eyes. “It’s okay, Crosshair, I know how much you miss Batcher but I don’t think she’ll forget about you that quickly.”

“She better not,” Crosshair muttered in response, playing along with the joke. “With all the extra treats I give her…”

“So you finally admit it,” Hunter said from where he was standing at the rear of the ship.

“Yeah, all this time you kept blaming me,” Wrecker added, drawing up next to Crosshair and knocking him gently on the shoulder.

Crosshair rolled his eyes; but before he could make his retort, Omega reported, “Dropping out now,” and the brothers who were standing automatically found a surface to hold onto, readying themselves for the small jolt that always accompanied the acceleration change when exiting hyperspace.

Within seconds, the large freighter they would be passing the supplies off to appeared in the distance. It would likely be several minutes before the freighter bothered to hail them; in the meantime, Crosshair plopped onto one of the passenger seats, thinking back to the conversation from a week ago that had landed them all here in the first place, when Omega had contacted them and had announced with no preamble, “So I’ve been assigned a supply run on Kendo Minor and I want you all to come with me!”

Omega had been with the Rebellion barely two weeks at that point, and already she was contacting her brothers to ask for their help with a mission – so naturally, Crosshair hadn’t passed up the chance to tease her about it.

“You miss us, don’t you?” Crosshair drawled, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Omega had rolled her eyes, the smile on her face softening the sardonic gesture. “That goes without saying. But really, I think I’ll need backup on this one.”

Wrecker had leaned forward to see the holo more clearly. “I thought you said it’s just a supply run…”

“I know, I know,” she had replied. “That’s why this was supposed to be a solo mission. But I just have this feeling…” she’d paused a moment, trying to find the words to explain before giving up and moving on. “And Echo’s on another mission, and the Rebellion is spread too thin as it is so there’s no one else I can ask for…”

“You don’t need to beg us, Omega,” Hunter had interjected, “we’ll help. You know that.”

She’d grinned in response. “And that’s why I called.”

As luck would have it, even Tech was able to come along. He usually had very limited availability these days – between keeping up with the rambunctious Mia and running refugee relocation operations in conjunction with the now only occasional “artifact liberation” activities, he and Phee had their hands full – but Tech and the family had happened to come back to Pabu just hours before Omega had come to pick her brothers up. Phee had opted to stay behind with Mia, but she had had no qualms about waving Tech off.

“Mia’s been cooped up on the ship too long; she needs a few days here to run wild, blow off some steam,” she had said, giving Tech a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be fine. You boys go have fun.”

“It is only a supply run,” Tech had pointed out in an apparent attempt to gently dispute the use of “fun” as a descriptor for this event.

“Yeah, it’s a supply run involving you and your siblings,” Phee had countered with a chuckle. “Something’s bound to happen. I know that from experience. Only thing that would be more of a guarantee that this trip will turn chaotic is if Echo was involved.”

“Or Mia,” Crosshair had put in, watching his niece scale a tree for the fifth time in the past four minutes. The kid hadn’t even stopped for breath yet. She could be quiet and calm when she needed to be and would follow directions to the letter when the situation called for it – she understood how important her parents' work was, after all – but her default setting was definitely… on. Just, on. All the time.

“Which is why she’s staying here,” Phee had rejoined.

Omega had said she felt she would need backup, and her instincts – as usual – had proven to be correct. What should have been a simple supply pickup had turned into a standoff with a local syndicate culminating in a very narrow escape from the city’s newly restructured law enforcement presence – namely, an Imperial garrison. Omega was extremely capable and likely could have extricated herself from the danger on her own had she needed to, Crosshair knew that; still, he found himself grateful that she hadn’t been alone on this mission.

Maybe he and his brothers really should consider committing to the Rebellion full-time…

The comms array pinged with an incoming transmission, abruptly drawing Crosshair away from his musings.

“This is Captain Rex. Havoc, do you read me?”

At the sound of the familiar voice, all the brothers cast surprised glances at each other; but Omega just grinned and gestured at them to stay quiet.

“This is Havoc. I have the supplies ready to be unloaded. Requesting permission to dock.”

“Permission granted,” Rex replied, his smile coming through in his voice. “Oh, and Omega, do I have a surprise for you.”

Omega glanced back at her brothers again, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I have a surprise for you too. See you soon!”

The transmission had barely ended before Wrecker spoke up. “You didn’t tell us Rex joined the Rebellion!”

She was still grinning as she looked back at him. “I didn’t know myself until just before I left for this assignment. I don’t know all the other rebels yet. I’ve only been with the Rebellion a few weeks, and everyone is coming and going so often.”

Hunter had a different question. “Is Havoc really your call sign?”

Omega nodded. “When I’m solo, yes. But I know when I run a mission with a squadron, I’ll be assigned a call sign with that team.”

“Unless you’re assigned to lead a squad,” Tech said.

She smiled as she shook her head. “Maybe someday there will be a Havoc Squadron. Right now I’m still the new kid in the Rebellion.”

Crosshair wasn’t sure if he was more relieved that Omega hadn’t been assigned a leadership role yet, or offended by the Rebellion being so blind to his sister’s immense talents; but he kept his thoughts to himself.

In due course, they docked with the freighter, with Wrecker immediately starting to unload the containers. Within moments, several crew members hurried down the corridor to join in with the unloading before proceeding to move the crates down the hall.

“Are you Omega?” one of the crew members asked.

“That's me,” Omega replied with a small wave.

“Captain Rex wants to speak to you. He's in the hold. If you would follow me…”

“Can my brothers come too? They were with me on the mission.”

The crew member gave the men a once over before shrugging. “Sure. This way.”

It didn't take long to reach the hold, with its access point being at the end of the main corridor. Crosshair, bringing up the rear, stepped into the hold and, as usual, instantly took in his surroundings: various containers and equipment forming haphazard rows all throughout the compartment, though still with adequate space to move around, and – oh, there was Omega’s contact. Crosshair hadn't seen Rex in several years now, but he still recognized the captain right away, even with Rex’s back currently to the visitors. Two others, strangers to Crosshair - a female Twi'lek outfitted in pilot gear, and a male human with an eye covering that could only mean he was blind - were standing in the far corner, seemingly in deep conversation with each other.

Omega was focused on the clone captain. “Hi, Rex!” she called.

At this, the Twi'lek and the human man started to make their way across the hold. Crosshair watched the man, fascinated: how this apparently blind stranger could move so easily around all the obstacles in the hold without any guidance was quite beyond him.

Rex, meanwhile, now turned toward Omega, his initial stunned expression turning rapidly into a broad smile. “Oh, here’s trouble. You managed to drag the boys along, too.”

Omega had waved at Rex as she continued her approach, with her brothers following behind; but now she stopped short as she stared intently at the Twi’lek.

Then, she blinked. “Oh my stars, is that… Hera??”

“Hi, Omega.”

The woman, Hera, had barely finished her greeting before Omega had closed the distance between them and embraced her, nearly squealing in her overjoyed excitement. The brothers, meanwhile, lingered behind and exchanged rather bemused glances, though none of them could help but smile at their sister’s delight.

“Omega, what…” Wrecker started to say; but Omega had turned back to them before he could finish his question.

“You know her!” Omega said, gesturing to her friend. “This is Hera Syndulla!”

“You mean, that’s the kid we met on Ryloth?” Wrecker said in awe.

Crosshair, keeping a close eye on the proceedings as he always did, noticed the unknown man frown when Wrecker spoke. Narrowing his eyes at the man’s reaction, Crosshair continued listening to the conversation, wondering why the Twi’lek’s name sounded so familiar…

“Yep, that’s me,” Hera was saying. “You also met my parents, Cham and Eleni Syndulla.”

And then Crosshair remembered.

Oh. Kriff.

He shrank back behind a low stack of crates as Wrecker joined Omega in enthusiastic conversation with Hera, Hunter and Tech watching the reunion with small smiles. He wasn’t sure if Hera would recognize him – after all, they had never met face-to-face during his time on Ryloth, but he had played a significant role in framing her parents for an assassination attempt and then trying to hunt her down. Even if she wasn’t aware that he was partially responsible for that entire debacle on her home planet, probably best if he stayed out of her way.

Come to think of it, he knew his siblings were aware he had been on Ryloth at that time, but they probably didn’t know the extent of his involvement either, given that he had never talked to them about it…

Crosshair considered fully extricating himself from this awkward situation and slipping back to Omega’s ship; but the other man, the stranger, set his nerves on edge. The man was still frowning intently at Wrecker as if he thought he might know the former soldier somehow, and Crosshair didn’t like it. He needed to stay and keep an eye on that man, whoever he was…

“And who’s this?” Omega now asked Rex and Hera, gesturing to the stranger.

Hera’s smile became rather more affectionate as she turned to the man. “This is Kanan Jarrus,” she said.

“He’s a Jedi,” Rex put in with a smile.

Perhaps Crosshair should have been taken aback by the fact that he was meeting a living, breathing Jedi, but he wasn’t; he was too busy considering that this likely explained how the blind man could move so well �� this Kanan must be using some kind of Force trick…

“Fascinating,” Tech said in response to Rex’s statement.

Kanan now turned his attention toward Tech and tilted his head, his frown deepening. If this Kanan was a Jedi, maybe he had an issue with clones? No – Crosshair instantly dismissed this thought: Kanan didn’t seem to have a problem with Rex; and besides, the Jedi couldn’t possibly know Omega or her brothers were clones, especially not based on their voices alone.

Hera didn’t seem to notice Kanan’s reactions, instead blithely continuing the introductions. “Kanan, this is…”

Omega stepped forward to introduce herself. “I’m Omega. Pleased to meet you!” she said brightly. “And these are my brothers: Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair’s back there.” She cast Crosshair a quizzical look upon seeing him trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible behind the containers while still watching the proceedings, but her attention was drawn away from her brother’s odd behavior by Kanan’s response to the introduction.

“What,” Kanan said, in a tone that sounded less than friendly.

“Uh, yeah,” Omega said, her voice brightening further in what was likely a subconscious attempt to make up for the distinct lack of welcome in Kanan’s reception of them. “Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair. Echo would be here too, but…”

Kanan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. “No.”

Omega stopped short, her bewilderment matching that of Wrecker, Hunter, and Rex. Tech simply adjusted his spectacles, looking thoughtful. Hera, smile faltering and eyebrows furrowed, gently touched Kanan’s arm. “Kanan, these are the men who saved me and my family on Ryloth.”

“Really?” Kanan replied in a hard tone, turning his face directly toward Crosshair, who was still hovering by the supplies. “All of them saved you? Including the sniper?”

Crosshair almost jerked back at this. How could Kanan possibly know he was a sniper?

“Well…” Hera was replying slowly as she tracked where Kanan was focusing his attention, and considered the uncomfortable Crosshair thoughtfully, “No, he wasn’t with them.” She looked piercingly at Crosshair a moment longer, as if thinking she should recognize him somehow but couldn’t place the memory, before shaking her head and turning back toward Kanan, saying reassuringly, “But he’s with them now, so…”

Crosshair, hackles raised, didn’t hear the rest of Hera’s sentence. He could understand if the Syndulla girl hated him – she had good reason to. But there had been no Jedi on Ryloth then; this Kanan character had never met any of them before, and had no reason to be holding a grudge.

“Maybe the others are okay,” he heard Kanan saying now, “but him…”

Scowling, Crosshair stepped away from the supplies that were doing next to nothing to hide him anyway, and faced Kanan with his arms defiantly crossed. “What’s your problem?” he snarled.

Kanan stiffened. “You’re really asking me that after what you did to me on Kaller?”

Everything stopped. Everyone stopped. Time stopped. He stopped - every part of him, just stopped. Well, everything except his brain and his heart, both of which seemed to now be operating in overdrive as understanding dawned.

Oh.

Oh. KRIFF.

Omega, puzzled, looked like she wanted to ask about Kaller but knew now was probably not a good time to do so; Rex's expression was rapidly evolving from confusion to sympathetic understanding as he seemed to be putting together the most likely explanation; but Hera’s expression told Crosshair she knew exactly what this Kanan was referring to. And so did Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker - though Wrecker was frowning more in bewilderment than anything else.

Tech, naturally, was the first to speak.

“Oh, so you did survive. Good. We wondered.”

Knowing Tech as well as he did, Crosshair could easily hear the genuine relief and satisfaction in Tech’s voice with this pronouncement; but he wasn’t sure if anyone else – much less a Jedi with a grudge – who didn’t know his brother quite as well, could pick up on anything beyond the clipped dryness that was Tech’s typical tone.

Wrecker was still frowning. "You talking about the Jedi kid on Kaller? But… I thought his name was Caleb."

"It is!” the Jedi blurted. “At least, it was..."

"The padawan we met as Caleb Dume obviously changed his name,” Tech interjected as explanation to Wrecker. “An understandable precaution to take, given the danger all who are capable of using the Force still find themselves in even after all these years."

Hunter shook his head and held out his hands toward Kanan in a placating gesture. “Look, none of us knew what was happening then. We really didn’t want to hurt you…”

The Jedi interrupted Hunter with a scoff, nodding toward Crosshair. “That one very much wanted to hurt me. He tried to kill me.”

“Crosshair’s inhibitor chip activated when the regs’ did,” Tech informed him. “Why his activated when ours did not remains unclear.”

At this, Kanan snorted derisively. “Yeah, chips again. Rex, you told me the clones had a choice!”

Rex, his eyes full of sorrow and sympathy, looked at the Bad Batch and sighed, but apparently had no idea what to say. Omega, glancing around and clearly seeing that everyone was at a loss for words, opened her mouth; and Crosshair knew what she was about to say, knew she was about to explain more about the inhibitor chips, about how it wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t help it...

Crosshair didn’t want her to. There was no point. No explanation could ever excuse what he had done.

Somehow, he managed to find his voice before Omega said a word.

"We did,” he said in answer to Kanan’s statement, words spilling out of him almost before he really knew what he was saying. “They made the right choice. I didn't. I'm... sorry.”

Through the haze of guilt-ridden panic that was clouding his mind and making his heart beat erratically, the thought occurred to him that if he was going to apologize to one, he might as well apologize to both – and he shifted slightly to face the stunned Hera. “And you. I’m sorry for what I did. To you and your parents.”

He didn’t know what he had expected to happen – it didn’t matter. All he knew now was that the silence was stretching on, a thick, suffocating silence made all the more stifling by the fact that all attention was now focused on him. Silent stares. Silent judgment. But nothing close to what he deserved.

The silence still stretched on, and it became too much for him. He couldn’t stay here. He shouldn’t stay here. Kanan and Hera didn’t want him around; he was of no use to Omega or Rex or the others now. At best he was a distraction; at worst he would be considered a threat.

“I… I should wait back on the ship,” he finally managed to say.

And without another word, he turned and all but fled.

*****

He had been sitting here on the flight deck of Omega’s ship for only twenty minutes, but already he was chomping on his dozenth toothpick.

The toothpick snapped, and he automatically swapped it out for a fresh one. Thirteen.

He hadn't managed to die on Barton IV - fate wouldn't let him escape his guilt that easily. And so he had resigned himself to his punishment on Tantiss, told himself that he deserved it, that he belonged there. Omega had thought otherwise, insisted he didn't deserve such brutal treatment; and when she had all but dragged him off Tantiss, granted him a taste of freedom again, he had sworn to himself he would never go back. He had even come close to convincing himself that the punishment he had endured in that hell had been enough to make up for all his sins.

Only now that he faced one of his biggest mistakes, faced it in the flesh, did he now have to face the stark reality that his punishment on Tantiss had done nothing for those he had harmed. All he had suffered meant nothing, corrected nothing.

Fourteen.

Omega had told him more times than he could count that he had changed, told him enough times that he had started to think that maybe, just maybe, she was right. He had even started to wonder if maybe the simple fact that he had changed was enough. Maybe it was enough that he regretted what he had done. Maybe it was enough that he regretted it so much he knew he would never, ever make mistakes like those ever again. Maybe it was enough, and maybe that meant he didn’t have to keep thinking about all the things he had done wrong.

His jaw was starting to ache from the pressure he was exerting on the small sticks of wood. Or maybe the tension was from stress. The toothpick snapped. He swapped it out. Fifteen.

He didn’t like to think about the past, not that part of his past, so many things he wished he could forget. Even after all the mistakes he had made, he had managed to fix things with his family. He had even been able to fix things with Tech, eventually, when his brother had miraculously returned. But there were so many things he couldn’t fix, so many things he couldn’t go back and change. And so there was no point thinking about them.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about them now.

Sixteen.

The deserters on Coruscant, and the others on Yrpac. Tawni Ames. Bepo Tiawala. The refugees on Gabiton, Neomac, Fontain. Neo Bol’Tero and her clan. Kamino. The Imperial occupation on Jolpesh. Preola-II. Sorosi. Ryloth. The insurgents – or had they been insurgents? – on Rodustani. The insurgents on Ershano. The insurgents on Onderon.

The padawan on Kaller.

He hadn’t managed to kill the padawan – he would forever be grateful to Hunter for that. And yet, even though he hadn’t killed Caleb Dume, the padawan was still one of his deepest regrets, for that had been the single event that had started his downward spiral.

It would be so easy, so easy to blame the inhibitor chip, blame the Empire, blame the Kaminoans. But he couldn’t. He never could. The chip had activated, yes; he had felt the intrinsic pull, the irresistible urge, the almost inescapable need to obey orders and kill the Jedi and their sympathizers. But there had been a part of him that still wanted to resist, a tiny part of him that he could have acted on instead, but had chosen to ignore. He’d had every opportunity to heed his sergeant – his immediate commanding officer – on Kaller rather than running around like a lunatic trying to murder a teenage boy on the whim of a far-off supreme chancellor who hadn’t spilled a drop of his own blood in the war. He had made a choice. He had chosen to give in to the urge to obey orders, rather than follow up on the tiny impulse to wonder why. He had chosen to shoot at the padawan, rather than listen to Hunter and consider acting with restraint.

Seventeen.

He had made a choice. The wrong choice. A choice that had snowballed into countless other wrong choices, choices that had culminated in him very nearly losing everything he held most dear.

He had thought the only way to move past it was to forget about it. That was the only thing he could do, after all.

Now, confronted by the living, breathing subject of that single wrong choice that had led him down the darkest path of his life, he knew he had to do… more, something, somehow. But what? What could he possibly do to make up for trying to kill a teenager – a child who hadn’t been much older than Omega at the time – and forcing him to spend his life living on the run?

The tension in his jaw was now exacerbated by a pounding headache. Eighteen.

He sensed rather than heard the presence filling the threshold behind him. He turned in his seat, expecting to see Hunter or maybe Omega – and froze.

He was cornered. He wasn’t prepared for this. What was he supposed to do? What could he say?

Kanan, arms crossed tightly over his chest, spared Crosshair the necessity of speaking first. “Omega told me more about what… happened. About what the inhibitor chips did to all of you.” He released a small sigh. “Rex had tried to tell me about it before, but I didn’t want to listen.”

Crosshair removed the still-intact toothpick from between his teeth with shaking fingers, but his voice was surprisingly steady as he replied. “Did she also tell you that I chose to stay with the Empire for months, even after my chip was out?”

Kanan nodded. “Yes. She also told me what happened when you chose to leave the Empire. She says you’ve changed. For the better. Your brothers and even Rex seem to think the same thing.”

Crosshair sighed heavily. “Omega has always looked for the best in people.”

“In that case, I can see why she and Hera are such good friends.”

Crosshair let the pause stretch on for several moments as he debated how to respond. He wasn’t sure what else he should say, and yet he knew there was one thing he had to say – even though it was… daunting – terrifying, even… to say it. Again. But he had to. It was the only thing left that he could say.

He took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he possessed to do what needed to be done.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, but… I am sorry.”

And this was the part he dreaded the most about apologizing. It wasn’t the confession of guilt itself that was the hardest part – though admittedly he didn’t really enjoy that either. No, it was the waiting afterwards, waiting to see how the recipient of the apology would react, waiting to see what punishment would be his due. He couldn’t run away to another ship this time; he had to wait it out, wait and see if…

“Apology accepted.”

Crosshair blinked at this abrupt resolution. “That’s it?”

The Jedi frowned. “Did you want me to not accept it?”

“No, I…” Crosshair stammered. “I mean… you… just… forgive me? Just like that?”

Only his siblings had ever forgiven him like that, and he still sometimes wondered why they had.

Kanan shrugged, the tension in his posture diminishing slightly. “Depends. You’re not planning on shooting at me again, are you?”

A ghost of a smile touched Crosshair’s lips, though he himself didn’t notice it. “As long as you don’t do anything to make Omega mad.”

The Jedi smiled briefly. “If I ever did, I’d be more worried about her shooting me.”

Crosshair shook his head. “She wouldn’t shoot you. She’d come up with other methods of payback, though.”

“And she’d have Hera backing her up the whole time,” Kanan commented drily. “Don’t worry. Your sister’s in good hands.”

Crosshair nodded, but his mind was still racing, adrenaline still rushing through him. He hesitated with his next question - he had apparently been forgiven, he didn't want to say anything that would make Kanan change his mind - but he had to know.

“I still don’t understand,” he said in a low voice. “How can you forgive me? I tried to kill you.”

Kanan sighed softly. “Your sister’s right. You have changed. And I know you’re sincere.”

This explanation wasn’t enough. He needed to understand. He wasn’t the same person now that he had been back then, he didn’t want to be that person ever again; but he was barely willing to acknowledge it, terrified that he would somehow lose his tenuous grasp on the person he now was and would slide back into the darkness if he had the audacity to admit that he had changed into someone better. If he could hardly accept that he had changed, how could anyone else recognize that?

“How?” he asked. “How do you know? Is it some… Jedi trick, or something?”

The corners of Kanan’s lips quirked up again for the briefest of moments before he said candidly, “You apologized to Hera. She didn’t remember you had been one of the Imperial troopers on Ryloth. You could have gotten away with not saying anything, just kept quiet. But you apologized anyway. She knows you meant it, too.”

Silence reigned again as Crosshair remained where he sat, struggling to process this explanation, struggling to process that a burden had been lifted from his heart even though he didn't deserve for it to be lifted, struggling to process the fact that after all this time, after all his desperate efforts to forget, he had been forgiven.

He still wished he could go back and make a different choice; but since he couldn't, maybe the changes his regret had wrought on him really were enough to move on with.

Kanan shifted on the threshold. “Anyway, I should get going. Omega and the others were just about finished debriefing Rex, they’ll all be back here any minute.”

Kanan started to walk away; but Crosshair, heart still thumping rapidly in his chest, called out to him. After all, he wasn’t sure when he’d ever see the Jedi again - and this Jedi had just given him a gift that could never be repaid.

“Kanan.”

He stopped and turned back toward Crosshair. “What?”

The sniper cleared his throat. “May the Force be with you… or, well, you know, whatever it is you Jedi say for good luck.”

The Jedi let out a low chuckle as he started again to make his way off the ship. “May the Force be with you too, Crosshair.”

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