The barracks were eerily quiet as Sayuri sank onto a crate, her head in her hands. Strands of her white hair slipped from beneath her hood, falling into her lap like cascading silk. Her mind was a storm — fragmented images of battles, betrayals, and faces she couldn't afford to forget. She barely registered the others filing into the room behind her, their footsteps soft but weighted with exhaustion and unease.

Hunter exchanged a glance with Echo before turning toward Crosshair, who stood by the doorway, his helmet still on.

"You doing all right, brother?" Hunter asked quietly. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing," Crosshair snapped, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Without another word, he strode toward Sayuri, his steps deliberate, purposeful.

Sayuri felt the shift in the air before she even looked up. Her senses prickled with unease as Crosshair stopped behind her, his blaster raised — the cold barrel pressing against the back of her neck.

The room tensed instantly.

"Crosshair!" Echo barked, his own blaster already drawn and aimed. "What are you doing?"

Sayuri didn't move. She sat still, feeling the weight of the blaster against her skin, feeling the tension radiating from Crosshair. There was anger in him. And sadness. She could feel it pulsing through the Force, the same conflicted storm she'd sensed in Rex after Order 66.

She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she took a deep, steadying breath.

Then, in a swift motion, she pushed the blaster aside with her hand.

"Crosshair," she said softly, her voice calm but firm. "What are you doing?"

Crosshair stood frozen, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered the weapon. His helmet hid his expression, but his posture screamed conflict — a battle between duty and something deeper.

"Crosshair, don't do this," Echo warned, still keeping his blaster trained. "She's not your enemy."

Sayuri turned her head toward Echo, shaking her head gently. "Lower your weapon."

"But—"

"Trust me."

Reluctantly, Echo obeyed, though his stance remained wary.

Sayuri stood slowly, turning to face Crosshair. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. She reached up and gently pulled her blindfold away, revealing her six eyes — deep pools of shimmering blue and silver that glowed faintly in the dim light.

The clones stared, stunned into silence.

Even Crosshair faltered, his hand dropping to his side.

"I trust you, Crosshair," Sayuri said, her voice soft yet unyielding. She looked directly into his eyes — or where she imagined they were behind the visor. "I know you won't do it."

Crosshair's grip tightened on his blaster, his knuckles turning white. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "You don't know me."

"Yes, I do," Sayuri replied. "You're angry. You're hurt. You feel like you've been abandoned. Like the galaxy forgot about you." Her voice softened even further, a gentle lull that seemed to reach through the armor, through the walls Crosshair had built around himself. "But you're still my freind."

The words hung heavy in the air.

Crosshair took a step back, his helmet tilting down slightly. His hands trembled as he reached up and removed the helmet, revealing his face. His eyes were hard, guarded, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in them.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice raw. "I don't have a choice."

Sayuri shook her head. "You do. You've always had a choice. That's why you backed me in front of Tarkin. You knew something wasn't right."

Crosshair stared at her, his jaw clenching. "And if I pull the trigger now?"

Sayuri smiled faintly, a sad, knowing smile. "Then you'll prove me wrong."

He flinched at that.

"But I don't think you will," she continued. "Because deep down, you're still the same Crosshair who fought beside your brothers. The same Crosshair who chose loyalty, not to the Empire, but to them."

Crosshair's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. His gaze flickered to Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Tech, who all stood silently, watching him with a mix of hope and hesitation.

"I... I don't know who I am anymore," Crosshair whispered.

Sayuri stepped closer, placing a hand gently on his arm. "Then let me help you remember."

Sayuri closed her many eyes, her breath steady as the Force surged through her. Her hand rested gently on Crosshair's temple, and she whispered softly, "Let me remember the true Crosshair... my love."

The words were like a key turning in a lock, and the Force flowed between them, entwining their minds. It reached deep into Crosshair's consciousness, brushing against the inhibitor chip embedded in his brain. The chip stirred at her touch, resisting — a twisted piece of tech designed to suppress his will, to turn loyalty into blind obedience.

Crosshair's face contorted in pain.

He staggered back, clutching his head, his teeth gritted as if trying to fight off an unseen enemy.

"Aaagh!"

Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Tech exchanged alarmed glances.

"Uh, General...?" Hunter stepped forward cautiously, his hand hovering near his blaster. "What exactly are you doing?"

Sayuri didn't open her eyes. Her focus remained on Crosshair, her voice steady and filled with unwavering determination.

"I'm freeing him," she said softly. "The chip... it's controlling him. I can feel it. I'm using the Force to break through its hold."

Crosshair fell to his knees, gasping for air, his hand trembling as he reached toward Sayuri. His fingers brushed against hers, and for a moment, his eyes met hers — wide with confusion, pain, and something else... something raw and vulnerable.

"It hurts..." Crosshair choked out, his voice hoarse. "I... I can't—"

"I know," Sayuri whispered, gently stroking his face. "But you're stronger than this. You've always been stronger."

The chip flared in his mind, sending a pulse of agony through his skull. He cried out, collapsing forward, but Sayuri caught him before he hit the ground. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close.

"You're not alone," she murmured. "You never were."

Wrecker shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowed in concern. "Uh, should we... stop her? This looks like it's hurting him."

"No," Tech said quietly, his voice calm but analytical. "She's doing something to the chip. I've never seen anything like it... but it might actually work."

Echo frowned. "We've tried removing chips before. It's risky."

"Everything about this war is risky," Hunter said, crossing his arms. His gaze locked on Sayuri, watching the gentle way she cradled Crosshair in her arms. "But if anyone can bring him back... it's her."

Suddenly, Crosshair let out a sharp gasp, his body shuddering. The tension in his muscles eased, and his breathing slowed. His eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused at first, but then they locked onto Sayuri's.

The pain was gone.

The chip... silenced.

"I..." Crosshair blinked, his voice quiet, disbelieving. "I'm... free?"

Sayuri smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "Yes, you are."

Crosshair sat up slowly, his expression conflicted. He glanced at his brothers — at Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech — and then back at Sayuri. His gaze softened, his usual sharp, calculating demeanor replaced with something more human.

"I almost..." His voice cracked, and he lowered his head. "I almost killed you."

Sayuri gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "But you didn't. You fought it. You're still here... with us."

Crosshair swallowed hard, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I... I couldn't stop myself. The chip—"

"You're not responsible for what the chip made you do," Sayuri said firmly. "None of you are."

The other members of the Bad Batch stepped closer, hesitant but hopeful.

Wrecker grinned wide. "He's back... right?"

Crosshair glanced around the room, taking in their familiar faces. His lips twitched into a faint smirk.

"Yeah," he said, his voice steadier. "I'm back."

Hunter reached out, clasping Crosshair's shoulder. "Welcome home, brother."

Crosshair nodded, a rare, genuine warmth in his eyes. But then his gaze drifted back to Sayuri, lingering on her with unspoken emotion.

"You said something back there," he murmured, tilting his head. "Something about... me being your love."

Sayuri smiled, her six eyes glowing softly. "I've always loved you, Crosshair. Even when you couldn't remember yourself... I remembered you."

Crosshair blinked, his stoic mask cracking ever so slightly. He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers. "And you never gave up on me."

"Never," Sayuri whispered.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Crosshair allowed himself to feel.

And when he leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against hers, there was no war, no Empire, no pain — only the quiet, unspoken promise of a future they would fight for together.