Chapter Text
Wrecker stared at the mass of flesh in front of him. It pulsed as if it were alive, sounding like a chorus of drums. Tendrils of flesh grew out of it, spreading along the walls, ceiling, and floor. At the foot of the mass, he couldn’t even see the floor underneath the gruesome material.
Blood seeped out from its center, painting the flesh with a red tint. Combined with the emergency lighting, it almost looked like the mass itself was glowing. It pulsed again and Wrecker gagged.
There were zombies stumbling around it. They arranged metal scraps as if they were making a shield for the thing. How the group hadn’t spotted Wrecker in the doorway, he had no idea. Wrecker took a step back. He hoped to the maker his brothers weren’t anywhere near this thing. Whatever it was, the zombies were acting like they worshiped it.
As he slowly backed away, his foot hit a fallen metal scrap. It scraped against the floor achingly as he pushed it back. It was followed by silence, there was no clicking or groaning of the zombies, there was no banging of metal.
He looked up to see the entire horde had completely stopped, their heads all turned towards Wrecker. Their eyes glowed red as they stared. None of them blinked or moved. Some of their mouths hung agape, as if they were in the middle of speech.
Wrecker took in a shaky breath. He took another step back. Some of them moved with him, but stopped again once he had. For a moment he wondered if they would match his movements, only attacking once he started to run. Maybe if he continued backing away slowly, he would be far enough to run without any risk of being caught. He took another step.
His ears rang as a loud shrieking was heard. He fought the urge to scream as he doubled over and struggled to turn off the sound receptors in his helmet. He blinked several times as the floor beneath him was covered in bloodied flesh.
He tried to turn to run, but something had latched onto his leg. He let out a small yelp as the flesh ran up leg and held him in place. He tried to pull his leg out, but it was almost as if the flesh had merged with his own.
He bent down to tug at his leg. When his hands landed on the invasive flesh, it latched onto them too. He was barely able to yank his hands away before it held him firmly in place. It was stronger than him. It was stronger than him .
The shrieking stopped, and the flesh stopped its climb. It had made it right above his knees, covering his armor. It pulsed like the thing in the middle did. Wrecker could barely tell that it was still moving, just incredibly slow, compared to how it was before.
Something else grabbed onto him then. He jumped as a hand wrapped around his bicep tightly. He whipped his head around to see one of the zombies had left the others to approach him. He was smiling.
Wrecker thought that it might have been a comforting smile, one that said it’s okay, it won’t hurt you. But his eyes gave it away. His eyes were wide and bloodshot and screamed at him to run.
Wrecker tried to pull away again, the flesh not budging an inch. He had no way of escape, so he swung his arms instead. He first pulled away from the trooper, then punched him squarely in the face.
He didn’t hold back any of his strength, sending the trooper flying into the wall. His head collided with a crack, and the zombie crumpled to the floor. He barely had time to celebrate before more took the zombie’s place.
They grabbed onto him, holding him in place despite his struggles. He was able to fling several off of him, but it was no use as more and more took the defeateds’ place. They started to tear off some of his armor.
His vambrace fell to the floor, and with it his com. For a moment too long, he blinked down at the small device. It had a blinking red light on it, one of his brothers was trying to contact him.
He screamed as teeth bit down on his arm. His head shot down towards the zombie with his teeth deep in Wrecker’s flesh. He wrenched him off quickly, a line of bloodied spit falling from the trooper’s mouth.
He was quickly replaced by another as one bit into Wrecker’s shoulder. He let out another tight scream. He tried to knock off the trooper, but his arms were being held down. The trooper shook his head, sinking his teeth deeper and making the wound messier.
Another bit his other arm. His knees felt weak, but the flesh encasing his legs refused to allow him to collapse. He sobbed as another bit him, right next to the first bite. One wrenched off his helmet, and he couldn’t help but take in a gulp of air. He struggled to use the breathing techniques Tech had taught him, trying to focus on his heartbeat instead of the pain and terror.
The pulsing flesh holding him in place felt weaker, but so did he. One zombie kicked the back of his knee, and his foot broke from the flesh with a tear. It still covered his legs, but he wasn’t stuck in place anymore.
He didn’t think it mattered, as he fell face first into the floor. It felt disgustingly soft and smelled of sweat and copper. Blood that wasn’t covered the cheek pressed against the floor as his own blood seeped from his various wounds.
He could see his vambrace discarded on the floor. It was still blinking. He reached for it sluggishly, feeling impossibly tired despite the adrenaline that should have been fueling him. He had to find his brothers. They had to leave. They could just tell the republic that this sarlacc pit was a lost cause.
He thinks he would have enjoyed blowing this place up. His arm fell, only the tip of his middle finger barely touching the vambrace. A bloodied boot stepped on it, pressing into one of the various bite wounds.
His vision blurred as he gagged. His body shook, yet he felt like he couldn’t move. He coughed several times, each sprayed a splatter of blood onto the fleshy ground. He heard the pulsing of the thing he had found. It felt impossibly loud, like it was inside his head. His wounds throbbed in tandem with the drumming pulses
Still focusing on his own heartbeat, he felt like it was almost the same as the sound in his head.
The trooper shook his head harshly, like a wild cat digging her teeth further into her prey. Echo let out a rough yelp as he felt rather than heard the metal of his scomp crunch. His head was swimming with pain and sickness, he felt helpless and pathetic.
He knew he was getting weaker, he could feel it with almost every breath. Each time he had had a coughing fit, luckily only twice now, it felt like something was creeping into his head. It made him feel enraged, with the thought that something else was there that shouldn’t be.
He was used to invasive code, to the occasional virus that he would pick up when trying to hack into separatist systems, but this felt organic . This wasn’t something messing with his cybernetics, with the pieces of him that didn’t feel like him. This was attacking the few human bits he had left.
It was attacking, and it was winning. It made him angry, it made him think things about these sick troopers that he only ever thought about the Techno Union. Shoot them repeatedly, jam your scomp into their throats, stomp on their skulls until it was mush staining the floor.
He didn’t want to think that. Sick or not, these were vode . He tried to imagine one of the Batch being applied to these disgusting thoughts, but to his own horror the idea never left. Sometimes he thought it even got louder, more demanding.
The trooper pinning him started pulling against his scomp, trying to bite off a chunk of metal. Echo let out another scream as the phantom pains told him he was losing flesh and not replaceable durasteel.
He yanked on his scomp, trying to force the trooper back down. Even if he would be pinned, the trooper wouldn’t be able to do anything to hurt him other than claw and grab, unless he let go of Echo’s scomp.
Echo brought his hand up to push against the trooper’s face. His wide, bloodshot eyes flashed towards the limb, and he grabbed it before Echo could even reach his face. He dug his fingernail into the skin and made little crescent indents. It wasn’t long before a small trickle of blood leaked down his wrist.
He grit his teeth. It was nothing, it wouldn’t last. He didn’t need to worry about himself. He needed to get free, then help Tech. he could see his vod’ika in his peripheral vision, pinned similarly to Echo. he was weakly holding his shaking arms up to keep the trooper’s snapping jaw away from him.
Echo looked away as the pressure on his scomp started to lift. His wrist was pulled up as the trooper moved his mouth, open wide to bite, towards his hand. Echo saw his opportunity and took it.
Jam your scomp into his throat. The voice screamed. He couldn't help but agree with it, despite himself. He maneuvered his scomp back, then pushed it forward with as much force as his muddled mind could muster.
It sank into the trooper’s flesh with a squelch. Blood trickled down his scomp and pooled in the crook of his elbow until it dripped off onto Echo’s chest. The two made eye contact. Both held a sickening fear in their wide eyes.
Echo’s lip trembled slightly as he spun his scomp, tearing the trooper’s flesh to shreds. The blood started to splatter violently against Echo’s face. He tore out his scomp through the side, almost completely decapitating the trooper. The trooper lilted to the side as he fell off of Echo.
For a moment, he just laid there, breathing heavily. He clutched his bloodied scomp to his chest. It whirred softly as he continued to spin it slowly. He felt a small droplet of the trooper’s blood trickle on his lip, he shut his mouth before it entered. He blinked up at the dull ceiling.
“Echo!” Tech yelled desperately. Echo held his breath for a moment, blinking desperately to drive away the shock. “Echo- help me!” Tech yelled again. Echo shook his head. Tech needed him.
He shakily got up to one knee. The trooper was still on top of Tech, who was desperately kicking and pushing against him. Echo felt another wave of anger flow through his head.
He got up, ignoring the way his body screamed at him to sit back down. The ARC ran towards Tech and the trooper, stepping over the other trooper’s body. He kicked the trooper in the stomach, making him fly off of Tech with the cracking of one of his ribs.
The trooper tried to lunge again, recovering quickly and ignoring his pain. Echo refused to let him get anywhere close to Tech again. He kicked the trooper once more, knocking his upper body into an open cabinet Tech had rummaged through before.
He stepped on the trooper’s chest, pinning him down. He moved to grab his blaster, but it had been knocked out his hand when he fell to the ground earlier. He glanced at Tech, who had turned his attention to the few sick troopers still in the room that had been watching.
Kick his skull in. Echo jumped at the sudden urging of the voice. He stared down at the snarling and struggling trooper. He placed his foot on the trooper’s face, pushing it into the bottom of the cabinet. He placed his hand on one wall of the cabinet to keep his balance, his scomp pressed against the other wall.
Then he kicked. He kicked, and kicked, and kicked. He didn’t stop, not when blood gushed from the trooper’s nose and onto his metal feet. He didn’t stop when the trooper stopped physically struggling and begged. He didn’t stop when blood splattered and squelched from his boots and covered his lower legs. He didn’t stop when the trooper’s cries quieted, when his head became mush.
His body wasn’t working right. His mind wasn’t working right. He felt like a ghost inside his own skin. He felt like the Algorithm . He didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. Something wet and salty trailed down his cheeks. Pathetic sobs escaped from his mouth even though he tried to tramp them down.
He felt something grab his shoulders and pull. Something pried his hand away from its death grip on the cabinet. Something pulled him away from the gorey scene, yet he still kicked. He thought maybe he screamed, yelling for the thing to let him go.
It only shoved him against the far wall, then multiplied hands held him in place as he shook and struggled. His vision was blurry and black spots danced across his vision. His eyes couldn’t leave that cabinet, couldn’t look away from the red junks where the trooper’s head should be.
It felt like it was taunting him. He screamed again, spinning his scomp and trying to stab into whoever held him back. There was a loud crack as it collided with something, then something put its entire weight on the scomp and held it down.
The hands forced him onto the ground. He kicked and screamed and thrashed as they did. He heard voices, loud. He heard screaming, an aching shriek that rattled his bones. He coughed and gasped as he still struggled.
Something coppery filled his mouth. He coughed more as his struggles weakened. He felt he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was dying. He choked on the coppery liquid as it filled his throat.
Someone else was yelling now too, it was a familiar sound, a word he had a million times in his life. The last time he heard it spoken that way was on a fiery planet, with his skin burning and chest aching.
Some of the hands were receding, and two were placed on his shoulders as they shook him. When that didn’t give them the reaction they wanted, they moved to cup his face. Their thumbs rubbed against his shark cheekbones as if they were trying to comfort him.
He coughed several more times, the coppery liquid spilling out of his mouth. His body shook and his unseeing eyes rolled back into his head. There was a sharp click, and he fell limp.
Crosshair wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to kill whichever fuck released this stupid virus. His head was starting to ache where Echo had hit him with his scomp. He couldn’t care less about that.
Echo was dying. He was really dying. Before, Crosshair held some hope that it wouldn’t get to this point, that Tech could have caught it in time. Now though, it felt impossible to be optimistic. For all he knew, Echo was already an insane zombie that had just gotten pissed at his comrades.
He was covered in blood, and most of it wasn’t even his own from all that Tech had described. There were splatters on his face, and a bit of blood still dribbled from Echo’s mouth. His legs and lower body were coated in red from the trooper they had to physically pull him away from.
Crosshair didn’t think he would ever forget the manic look in Echo’s eyes. He wished for the millionth time that he couldn’t pick up on all those little things that most people would need a magnifying glass for. Echo had been panicked, and unseeing. He didn’t recognize a thing around him.
He was grateful to Tech for finding a way to slow it down, otherwise Echo would have died then and there. He would have choked on his own blood. The ARC’s mouth hung slightly agape from sleep, and Crosshair couldn’t help but see how blood-stained his teeth were, like every other sick trooper they had come across.
Even if Tech had been the one to keep Echo alive, Crosshair couldn’t help but resent him for letting it get this far. He had been so calm about it from the start, like it wasn’t anything to worry about. It was unfair, but Echo had been under Tech’s watch, and now Echo was propped up against the wall after almost having choked on his own blood.
“You didn’t tell me he was infected !” Skeet shrieked, making Crosshair jump as he focused on Echo’s unconscious body. He blinked and turned back to the reg. Crosshair’s lips were drawn back in a snarl as he responded.
“Why else would we have gone to the med-bay?” He hissed, moving to cover most of Skeet’s view of the ARC. He watched as Skeet moved his hand towards his blaster.
“Are you all karking insane?” He responded harshly at the same time Hunter placed his own hand on his blaster. He looked from Hunter, to Crosshair, then to Tech, who had taken up a similar defensive position.
He shook his head softly, letting out a sorrowful sigh. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do to save him. You’re all just putting yourselves at risk.” he explained sympathetically, yet harshly. It was spoken from experience.
“Just because you regs were too dumb to figure out a cure doesn’t mean we can’t!” He shouted, jabbing a finger at Skeet. “If you’re so hopeless about it, why not get the hell off this mudball?” He interrogated. Skeet raised his hands up, having smartly chosen not to draw his blaster.
“‘M sorry, really I am, but there’s not much hope for him.” He turned towards Tech, having guessed that he was in charge of trying to find a cure. “If he was bitten he has maybe ten or so minutes before he’s as bad as them,” He gestured towards the pile of undead troopers they had taken out upon their arrival.
“He was not bitten,” Tech cut in, his fist clenched at his sides and with a death grip on his data pad. “His helmet was knocked off about an hour ago, he should still have more time.” Skeet tilted his head curiously at that.
“I thought you were all ninety-nines?” He said, turning to each of them. Crosshair felt like he was being studied by the young trooper. When his visor turned towards Echo, Crosshair moved in front protectively.
“Yes, however I do not understand what that has to do with Echo being infected.” Tech responded. Skeet turned back towards Tech after fruitlessly trying to look around Crosshair.
“Clones with mutations are immune, at least until our blood is exposed to it.” He said simply. To prove his point, he lifted his helmet and held it in the crook of his elbow. Crosshair blinked several times at the reveal of the clone’s clear mutation. There was a birthmark covering his entire left cheek and creeping over his nose that almost looked like the burn scar Echo had.
“That’s the only reason me and my batch didn’t get infected at first. Nash figured there had to be a reason we were the only ones not sick.” He explained with a shrug. He looked over Echo again, despite the glare Crosshair gave him.
“Echo doesn’t have a mutation.” Hunter explained. Skeet frowned, then released a soft sigh. He put his bucket back on and turned back to Tech.
“Either way, I’m sorry.” He said softly, “there’s not much that can be done in time.” He looked towards the ground in shame. Crosshair turned sharply away, back towards Echo.
He frowned, Echo looked so weak. He was several shades paler than usual. The ever present dark circles under his eyes seemed even more prominent. A sheen of sweat coated his skin.
Crosshair pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. He had a high fever. The sniper swallowed the lump in his throat and let his hand fall limply in his lap.
“Actually,” Tech cut through the strenuous silence, “this was able to slow down the sickness.” He held up the hypo he had stuck into Echo’s neck earlier. “I might be able to engineer a cure from it.” He concluded, giving a flower of hope in Crosshair’s chest the chance to bloom.
Skeet tilted his head as he looked over the hypo. His shoulders slumped as he shook his head softly. He shrugged helplessly.
“You can try.” He said, not very enthusiastic. “Nash tried for hours to find a cure, but he got nothing.” Skeet mumbled hopelessly. Crosshair sneered at the reg. The sheer notion that Tech couldn’t do it made Crosshair scoff.
“Could I meet Nash?” Tech asked abruptly. Skeet flinched, doing very little to hide it. He started wringing his hands again.
“Not really, no.” He grumbled harshly. None of them needed to hear any more to know why. Crosshair turned back towards Echo. his eyes were scrunched up painfully, having gone into a more fitful sleep than a drugged sleep. He placed a comforting hand on the reg’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Skeet,” Hunter said softly. Crosshair turned his head slightly to listen in, though he deemed himself finished with this conversation. He wasn’t the best at consolations. “Are there any others left?” Hunter asked. Crosshair wanted to face palm, though his bucket was in the way. Sometimes Hunter was worse at conversation than Tech.
“What- oh, no, no- he’s not-” Skeet stuttered, holding his hands up as he tried to explain. “Nash isn’t dead, he’s just… not in the best head space.” his shoulders slumped before he perked up again, “my brother, Flay, is with him.”
“Are there any others besides you three?” Tech asked. Skeet looked down at the ground before shaking his head softly. Hunter placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. The sergeant turned back towards Tech.
“Okay, so where’s Wrecker?” he asked. Crosshair glanced over at Tech, his interest piqued again. The splicer’s eyes widened as he scanned the room.
“He did not meet up with you?” He asked urgently.
“No.” Hunter replied, concern lacing his voice, “Tech, what happened to Wrecker?” he demanded. The splicer then started fidgeting, pushing his goggles up to the bridge of his nose.
“He was worried about you, and wanted to go find you. I let him go because I thought I could handle things here.” Tech explained quickly. Crosshair felt a spike of cold strike his chest at the startling realization. Wrecker was somewhere in the compound, alone , and possibly surrounded by zombies.
“We have to find him.” Crosshair hissed. He squeezed Echo’s shoulder as he said, eliciting a groan from the unconscious ARC trooper. The group all turned back to him as he stirred. Echo scrunched up his nose as he tried to open his eyes.
“Easy, Echo.” Hunter whispered soothingly, crouching down next to him. Crosshair let go of his shoulder as Echo tried to sit up more. He blinked his eyes open and they lazily trailed along the room, looking over the group.
“Wha happened?” He mumbled, a slight slur in his voice. He tried to get up, but Hunter gently pressed him back down. Crosshair glanced at Tech as the splicer wisely moved to hide Echo’s view from the gorey mush in the cabinet.
“You got attacked by troopers,” Hunter started to explain. Echo’s tired eyes landed on the sergeant as he listened. “Then the sickness had a flare up, we had to sedate you to slow it down.” Hunter rubbed his thumb gently over Echo’s shoulder, though he held Echo down firmly.
“Tech okay?” Echo asked, his head lolling to the side as his eyes fluttered again. Crosshair moved to lean sitting against the wall, letting Echo’s head rest on his shoulder. He took Crosshair’s silent offer gladly.
“I am unharmed, ori’vod .” Tech assured, using the little mando’a that Echo had taught them. Tech really was the only one that used it often, adopting the language eagerly. It was just another way that Echo and Tech got along so perfectly.
Crosshair glanced up at the splicer. His shoulders were shaking and he continued to wring his hands. They were all worried about Echo, but Crosshair thought Tech might have the most to lose if they didn’t get a cure in time.
Since Echo’s first day in the Batch, he had seemed genuinely interested in Tech’s rants. He somehow actually understood it, and put in his own two credits naturally. Crosshair frowned and put his arm around Echo’s side, pulling him closer.
The reg didn’t do much to fight the action. He didn’t even mutter a protest as he pressed closer to Crosshair’s side. He just scrunched his eyes shut and buried his head deeper into the crook of Crosshair’s neck.
“Why am I covered in blood?” He mumbled, looking down at his legs. He could probably feel it splattered against his face too. Crosshair suppressed a grimace. The sharpshooter looked up at Tech, there was no way he’d be the one to explain it.
“It is not yours.” Tech stated quickly. Echo blinked up at him, trying to process the words. Crosshair let out a huff as he rolled his eyes. Great way to answer that, Tech. he thought humorously.
“ Whose is it? ” Echo hissed, sounding very concerned. He blinked again several times, then looked from Tech, to Crosshair, to Hunter, then back to Tech. His reaction elicited a small chuckle from Hunter.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Skeet muttered, somehow sounding genuinely sorry, “but we shouldn’t stay in the same place for so long. I think it’d be best to find my vode .” he glanced at Echo, “I’m Skeet, by the way, it’s uh- cool to meet you.” Echo only blinked at him in response.
“What about Wrecker?” Crosshair asked, eyeing Skeet dangerously. This reg was nicer than most, but he didn’t seem too eager to help them find their brother. Echo perked up a bit at that, adjusting his position again.
“What happened to Wreck?” He asked quickly, his eyes wide with alarm. Hunter squeezed his shoulder gently.
“We got split up, we don’t know where he is.” the sarge explained quietly. Echo tensed against Crosshair, a telltale sign that the reg wouldn’t stay leaned against him for much longer. He rolled his eyes as Echo tried to get up again.
“Well we gotta find him.” Echo declared, breaking free from both Crosshair’s and Hunter’s gentle hold on him. He pressed his hand to the wall, trying to pull himself up to stand on shaky legs.
“And we will,” Hunter stated as he shot up, placing both his hands on Echo’s shoulders to steady him. Crosshair got up as well, then gently grabbed Echo’s elbow to try and calm the reg. “But you need to take it easy.” the tracker urged.
“Oh no- we are not doing this.” Echo said, his face setting determinedly. He shrugged off Hunter and started moving again. “I do not need to be coddled-”
Crosshair jumped into action as Echo started falling forward. Tech, however, beat him to it, wrapping his arms around Echo and holding him up. The two sank to the floor, Tech being mindful of holding up most of Echo’s weight.
“Echo, please , do not push yourself.” Tech asked. The reg let out a wheeze followed by a wet cough. He let his head press against Tech’s chest. Crosshair worried his lip, wishing for a toothpick. He clenched and unclenched his fists rhythmically as he watched the two.
Echo slowly raised his head, instead resting it on Tech’s shoulder and gazing past him. With a jolt, Crosshair realized that the gorey mess had to be right in Echo’s line of sight now. He looked quickly at Hunter, who was openly cringing.
“ Tech .” Crosshair hissed, his shoulders tense. The splicer looked up at him, then his eyes widened with realization. He quickly readjusted Echo to press his face into the crook of his neck. Crosshair held his breath, knowing the damage had already been done with how tense Echo had gotten.
“Did I do that?” He mumbled, turning his head to look up at Tech with dazed eyes. His nose was bleeding again. Crosshair felt the strong urge to scream, or to blast something.
“Seriously, we need to get moving.” Skeet cut in nervously. He was practically bouncing on his feet with anticipation. Crosshair looked to Hunter again, who nodded sharply.
“Can you take us to your brothers?” Hunter asked, turning towards the reg. He glanced at the door, then placed a hand on his blaster. Crosshair guessed more troopers were getting closer again
“Tech, did I do that?” Echo asked again, sounding far more urgent. His shoulders rose and fell with heaving breaths. Crosshair moved to pick the reg up, and lead him out of the room.
He was expecting some resistance, or Echo insisting that he could stand on his own. What he was not expecting was the agonized wheeze the reg let out as Crosshair took his arm. Crosshair flinched away, unsure if he had caused it or not. Tech held Echo up, pushing him off of his chest to get a better look at him.
Skeet cursed at the sight of Echo’s face. He was gasping and choking. Tears were falling down his cheeks and mixing with the blood there, leaving a pale red trail. He started to shake, like his muscles were being strained and giving out.
“Get another hypo!” Hunter ordered, his attention flitting from Echo to the door and back again. Crosshair grit his teeth as he started searching the counters for something that could help.
“Just carry him, we need to go!” Skeet said urgently, his hand on his blaster and pulling it out of its holster. Crosshair rounded his own hand pistol on him in turn. The sniper could feel the glare from under the reg’s visor. He sneered at him in retaliation.
Splitting his attention, he grabbed a hypo he spotted out of the corner of his eye. He threw it to Tech, who easily caught it. The splicer grabbed something out of one of his pouches and stuck it into the hypo.
There was a soft click, barely heard over Echo’s coughing and sputtering, as Tech stuck it in his neck. Then, Echo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, like before, and he fell limp in Tech’s arms.
Crosshair stared daggers at Skeet. The reg had his fists clenched, but he didn’t try to grab his blaster again. The rest of them were all staring at Skeet now too. The reg lowered his head in what Crosshair thought might have been shame.
“I’ll take you to my brothers,” He said finally, “but if he becomes one of them ,” He continued sharply, pointing at Echo’s limp form, “I won’t let him hurt them.” he finished coldly. Maybe if he wasn’t actively threatening his brother, Crosshair could have respected it.