He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Pabu's secluded mountain island, the air was refreshingly unpolluted, the sky a vibrant, unfiltered blue. Crosshair perched on a smooth, moss-covered rock, his gaze fixed on a view as he opened his eyes again. It was tranquil, yet the supposed relaxation felt more like a forced pause, a jarring interruption in the relentless pace of their missions. He wasn't made for these peaceful times.

He shifted, the loose, civilian clothes Hunter had insisted upon still felt foreign against his skin still. Tech's absence gnawed at the edges of his focus, a sensation that had intensified with each passing day. Back on the ship during the war, the constant whir of repurposed Separatist tech, the clinking of tools, the low hum of the droid modifications– it had all functioned as a background to Tech's incessant chatter about things he couldn't care less about. Now, the silence screamed of his absence. He never thought he could, but he missed the annoying rambling, the way it filled the space Tech left so agonizingly empty.

He didn't know why it was bothering him now- months after the fact. Months after Omega told him while he was in that forsaken cell on Mount Tantiss. Now, whenever he spotted Tech's shattered goggles or left over gadgets he used to tinker with, he felt angry. And the memories of Tech wouldn't leave no matter what he did. It remindered him that he hadn't been there. Hadn't been there when his brother died.

A twig snapped behind him. Crosshair spun around, before he recognized the person. He just rolled his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips like a frustrated hiss as he turned back.