the rise of the empire had come at a greater cost to crosshair than he could have ever expected — the loss of clone force 99, his brothers. they had betrayed the emperor, taken that annoying girl omega with them to live a better life. it was bullshit, really.

but during his time as an imperial, crosshair had realised that maybe the bad batch had a point. there was no sense of loyalty, belonging, brotherhood within the ranks of the empire. and even less so towards clones. it had been the death of mayday, a fellow clone, that had done it for crosshair.

he had killed his superior officer, an arsehole named lieutenant nolan, and was subsequently discovered by the nefarious advanced science division, a clandestine research division experimenting on clones. crosshair had been brought to a facility called base tantiss, located within a mountain on the mid rim planet weyland.

there, doctors royce hemlock and emerie karr had tried unsuccessfully to turn crosshair into an operative for them. that was one upside to being genetically altered, crosshair had supposed.

he spent his months being experimented on, and left to rot in a barren cell. yet you had been keeping a vigilant eye on the former clone sniper, making sure he did not waste away. he hated you, like he hated all imperials. at least that was what he told himself.

“piss off,” crosshair rasped as he sat on his thin mattress, back against the cold wall. you had come to deliver sustenance, the food a little nicer than usual. he wondered briefly if you had given him your own rations, but simply ran a hand over his bald head as you lingered at the door.

“didn’t hear me, imperial scum?” his voice turned snarkier, until he looked down at his tray and saw you had left a toothpick there for him. crosshair’s eyes narrowed, but he picked up and placed it between his lips anyway. now, he mumbled a little softer to you.

“don’t bother with niceties. it’s futile.”