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readnbloom · 9 months
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fakegingerrights · 9 months
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Walk By Faith (3)
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"I know what you're going to do." The kid, Omega, said, touching his shoulder. Soulful brown eyes that were so much older than her cadet body met his as he glared at her. "But please, don't."
"You don't know anything." He snarled, pulling away from her.
"I know it's not your fault. You can't help it." She whispered. "I'm sorry, Crosshair."
"Go on, Kid." He grunted. Omega gave him one last look, big brown eyes staring into his soul.
He had a job to do, anyways. Crosshair's new grey armor was weird. Despite the dark color it was too new, no scratches or markings on it. He hated it. The walkway to the platform his brothers were leaving from was rain-soaked and smelt like ozone from previous blaster fights.
Crosshair's hand trembled slightly on the trigger. Shot after shot of live round whizzed by his vode's heads. He couldn't land a hit, no matter how hard he tried to follow his orders he couldn't land a hit except a love-tap on Wrecker. His elder brother's startled yelp at the miss.
"Crosshair?" Wrecker mouthed, before ducking behind cover again. Crosshair had had a clear shot and he had missed. Chose to nick Wrecker's shoulder than take off his head. Wrecker was the first to figure it out, then. That something in him wouldn't let him hit his own brothers. In hindsight, he's appalled that he even tried. The blasted headache had him feeling like he was on autopilot, unable to change his course.
Wrecker was the first to notice. That they had a shot of escaping Crosshair. Not Hunter, with his gentle hands and soft words when a member of the Bad Batch was in pain. Not Tech, for all of his intelligence. But Wrecker, sweet, obnoxious, Wrecker. His big brother. As if from a long way off, he heard Wrecker's shout to make a run for the ship.
Tarkin hadn’t been pleased. It was bad enough, that Tarkin was angry. It was worse, when he was ordered for another surgery. He waited on the table for the anesthesia to take effect.
Only it didn’t.
White hot pain, burning through every nerve ending in his body as he fights to claw himself to wakefulness. Soft words, voices of brothers and a natborn, floated around him just between resting and wakefulness, hearing but not comprehending.
Hands, gentle and soft but callused from working with small objects for long periods of time, stroked across his forehead, a thumb dipping down to smooth the creases between his eyebrows that came from his near permanent scowl.
"T'ch?" He tries, his voice hoarse, his eyelids feeling heavier than Wrecker's training weights. There's a soft chuckle above him... female?
"Not Tech, Crosshair."
"Oh..."
His mind fuzzled in and out of consciousness as the ache receded to an unpleasant sensation he couldn't quite describe.
"...M'bones 're wet, Doc."
There's a snort of laughter above him. He frowned slightly as the cool hand moved from his forehead to play with his hand. Wrecker did that a lot when he was nervous.
"That's just the anesthesia talking, Cross. Your bones are perfectly fine." You rolled his long fingers between yours. Crosshair sighed and relaxed a bit. "Wanna try and drink some water?"
A silicone straw was tapped against his lips and he whined softly.
"'S gonna make my bones even more wet." He still managed a few swallows before turning his head away, the remaining water in his mouth spilling out down his chin. You sighed softly and pressed a napkin to the side of his face, something Crosshair scowls weakly at but allows.
"I'm surprised he lets you get this close. Any of us'd lose a finger for that." Crosshair pouts some more, turning his head away from the Reg's voice. "Case in point."
“Let him be, Bev. You did your job, let me do mine.” You put the napkin away.
“I thought you weren’t a nurse.” The Reg’s smug voice is teasing, but it still sends a jolt of rage through Crosshair’s addled brain as he starts the long trek towards proper consciousness.
“I’m not.” Your voice is playfully annoyed. “But he’s my patient. My entire future in research depends on him.” Your hand leaves him and he grumbles slightly, cracking an eyelid open and blinking in an effort to try and clear his vision.
“Your patient. That’s the excuse you’re going with?”
You growl softly. A pretty noise, Crosshair thought idly. “Go on, Bev. He’s fine, you can monitor his EEG from literally anywhere in the facility. You’re stressing him out.”
“Alright, alright.” There’s the sound of a door closing and you sighed heavily, hunching your shoulders.
“Who’s that?” Crosshair rasped, slur diminishing.
“Bev? He’s the one who kept your brain from leaking out of your ears.” You grunt. "Care to fill me in on what you remember?" It's the most unapologetic he's ever heard you, cautious enthusiasm replaced with a long suffering tone.
"Finishing my eyes, I had a headache, then my vision went... odd. Incomprehensible shapes and colors for a second or two. Nothing after that." He listed off.
You shifted beside him, stifling a yawn. "An aura. A state of consciousness that precedes a seizure. You scared me, flopping around like that."
Crosshair frowns a bit more at this. "You're a doctor, and seizures scare you?" He drawls, squinting.
"With a patient like you? Absolutely." You sigh. "Cross, you spent almost seven hours on the table in emergency neurosurgery. Bev got the job done. Barely."
Crosshair glares in your direction. "Why'd you go poking around my head for?" He grunts, sitting up a little more.
"Because your inhibitor chip decided to try and kill you. Between the pressure from your eyes and your inhibitor chip frying your brain we almost lost you."
"Yes, your precious experiment was lost." He ground out. "What's the inhibitor chip for?"
You give an angry huff but ignore the experiment comment. "It's... well, it's a legal mess. It's a biochip in your frontal lobe, the part of your brain that deals with decision making and memory? It changes your thought patterns and memory via electrical stimuli. Normally it's too small to detect but..." You sighed, cracking your knuckles, then your wrists and shoulders. A nervous habit?
"Mine affected me differently?" He guessed.
"No. Yours was amplified. Not long after you and your squad returned from Onderaan."
Crosshair frowned. "So the chip was turned up a bit."
"Enough it was frying your brain from the inside out. Yes."
"And you didn't poke with my eyes?" He asked, fidgeting a little.
"No? Are you alright?" A note of worry broke through the exhaustion in your voice. Crosshair swallowed, closing his eyes.
"It's pitch black in here, Doc."
You froze, stock still as you examined Crosshair’s scowling face as his eyes stared down into nothing.
“Kriff.” You swore eloquently.
Crosshair had also gone ridged, chewing on his lip. His hands, usually so purposeful with their movements skitter around his lap nervously, picking at the blanket and twisting around each other.
You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you considered your options. That... complicates things. Heavily.
"Ok. First and foremost, I would like to apologize. While the anesthesia was wearing off you were having a rough time of it, I went to check your stitches and had my hands... pretty much all over your hair. It seemed to calm you down, so I kept the contact as you came out of it. I was unaware you couldn't see my movements and if I startled you or caused you any undue stress, you have my sincerest apologies."
This surprised Crosshair. It took him a moment to speak. "Thanks." He muttered, dexterous fingers still picking at pilling threads on the blanket.
"Second, we'll need to find out what's causing this. I'd like sooner rather than later, but you also should be given time to recuperate after literal brain surgery and weeks of low level electrocution." He could hear the grimace in your tone.
"How invasive are we talking here?" Crosshair asked slowly, having a feeling he'd regret asking. You sighed.
"We shouldn't have to do an internal examination... odds are it's a neural problem that will show up with imaging. Probably.... Probably an MRA scan, followed by a PET scan if that doesn't work out..." You force yourself to take a breath. "Those are the machines that go around you from the outside. Loud and clanky and annoying but they get the job done."
Crosshair relaxed a little more at this.
"There's also the issue of you adjusting to not having your chip. That thing." You spat the words. "Has been altering your perception of reality, your long term memory processing, and even regulation your trauma reactions for weeks, if not longer. I'm wary of putting you in such a sensory intense environment. If you were to suffer a flashback, or a PTSD induced anxiety attack, that would throw off your entire scan, forcing us to stop and start once you're out of it and in a 'neutral' state. And stress is not your friend right now. It would severely delay your healing. I'm not looking forward to my next call with Rampart. But it could be several months until you're even at what you used to be."
Crosshair doesn't say anything for the longest time. "They're going to decom me." He said eventually. "There's no reason to keep me. They pushed too hard and broke me. And now there's no reason to keep me." He scrubbed at his face, going to rub harshly at his eyes.
"Crosshair, you're nowhere near healed!" You scold. "You're going to scratch your cornea."
"Like this shabla empire cares anymore!" He snapped back, his teeth gritted as he pushed himself up into a better sitting position, swaying as the aftereffects of anesthesia screw up his sense of balance and he sways.
"Crosshair, take it easy." Your voice is tired. "I'm right next to you, I'll have to pull your hands away myself if you go digging at your eyes like that again." Crosshair jerked his hands away, turning his head to listen and gage your proximity.
"Doc, they're just going to kill me for spare parts. I don't want them getting the one thing that makes me worth anything." There was a pleading note in his voice as he reached for his eyes anyways. Your hands caught his wrists and he froze.
"Cross, I won't let them. Now, I haven't slept since the night before you went into surgery and I am mentally and physically exhausted right now. Please, don't make my job more difficult than it needs to be and keep your eyes in their sockets. I don't think I could physically fight you right now, so even if I have to resort to begging I will." You kept careful hold of his wrists. In a flash, he flips his hands over and grips yours, glaring in the direction of your voice.
He feels the heat coming off the still persistent bruising from where he had gripped your hand, and the fine tremor in your wrists and fingertips.
"You're shaking." He grumbles.
"I haven't slept in nearly thirty six hours, I'm probably dehydrated and I'm kriffing terrified that you might do something stupid in order to escape the massive amounts of repressed trauma from the chip manually controlling your brain." You don't have the energy to snarl. Crosshair drops your hands like they burned him, reaching up to rub at his eyes but changing his mind to rake his hand through his hair. Silver curls stick up at odd angles before he gives you a look.
"To to bed, Doc. The... reg can do his job for a while." He can hear the disdain in his own voice for the other clone. "If you're serious about fighting for me, you'll need rest."
You laugh bitterly. "Who's the nurse here?"
"Not you. You made that very clear." Crosshair could practically hear you rolling your eyes.
"Yeah, you're just lucky I bothered with nursing school and optometry. Ok. I'm out of your hair." He listened to the rustle of your uniform give way to fading footsteps.
In the resounding silence, with only the heart monitor to keep him company, he mulled over what you had revealed.
He wanted to blame everything on a chip. In part, he knew it had something to do with his struggle to fight orders, with his memories feeling off and stiff, his brothers off and out of character since the start of the Empire.
But.
The anger, the confusion was still there. He knew the Empire was corrupt. He heavily suspected before, killing off refugees and nonhumans without even a second thought. But this sort of control, in every head of every soldier?
He thought back to Omega. She knew. She must’ve known. That his chip was… what? More powerful? Enhanced? She had tried to fight it for him, that day in containment. Before he was formally part of the Empire.
Crosshair was jolted out of his thoughts by a knock on the doorframe of the… recovery ward? The room he was in.
“Thought you were going to take a nap.” Crosshair grunted, expecting you to be back again for some stupid test or to tell him he wasn’t drinking enough water or something.
“She is. I even made her go back to her own quarters and everything.” The voice of the reg came from the doorway. “So, unfortunately you have to deal with me instead.”
Crosshair grunted, surprised he actually felt a flash of disappointment at the reg’s presence.
“I’ll admit, I was shocked the Empire would let her work on the last member of their precious ‘bad batch.’ You’re the sniper, right?” The reg’s voice came from his right as he fiddled with something mechanical sounding, the heart monitor maybe?
“Was.” Crosshair snorted bitterly. “Kinda a problem with that now.” He waved a hand in front of his empty eyes for emphasis.
The reg laughed. “Commander, you’re in the care of the Empire’s finest optician. And-“ There was a flicker of warmth on the bridge of his nose and tops of his cheeks. “She’s outsourcing your case to some of her fancy secret contacts. And you got a decent neurologist for a brother too, if I don’t say so myself.” The reg was smiling smugly; Crosshair could hear it in his voice. He curled his lip slightly at the ‘brother’ comment, but it still struck him as odd. He hadn’t heard a reg call another clone brother since…
“You took your chip out too.” Crosshair realized aloud. The reg chuckled.
“Yeah. A field medic I knew in training reached out to me before the war ended. Not long after he went missing from his own bunk in Corascanti airspace. Figured if the republic cared so much to cover it up to attack their own troops it must be true. Tracked down a droid who knew how to do the procedure and sure it enough it was there.”
Crosshair flinched hard as the bed underneath him adjusted. The reg laughed. “Jumpy, arncha? I think you knew the guy too. Kix ring a bell?”
“I don’t bother with the names of regs.” Crosshair glared, but it was a facade. He did remember Kix, Rex’s medic. He was the quieter of the two others Rex and Cody brought. Hair grown over a tattoo on the side of his head, and sad eyes. The eyes of a man who’d lost too much in too little time.
“He was a good man. Risked everything to tell me.” His reg babysitter tsked softly at the name comment. “I think that’s worth remembering.”
“Maybe.” Crosshair admitted.
“My name’s Bev. Maybe one day I’ll be remembered too.” The reg said. “Right. You try and get some rest, I’ll be back in an hour or two.”
Crosshair would never admit it, but he never forgot Bev’s name either.
[A/N: Chapter three is up, four is finished and I'm working on Five. We're looking at... Eight? Chapters? Eh, between eight and twelve... maybe fifteen, max. Anyways, Tag list!:
@the-hexfiles @moon-wrecked @stunkbiggu @urfriendlyneighbornightfury @anotherschuylersister @endo-bunny @renon4224 @tecker @rinwritesfics @pb-jellybeans @merkitty49 @chicknstripz @bambambunny ]
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troubledontlast1 · 4 days
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Believe the Word of God over and above your feelings.
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faithtalksrlpodcast · 10 months
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No matter where you are at in life. God will restore you. God loves the broken and will always be there to fix you. We are all broken living in a broken world.
#jesus #christ #jesuschrist #christian #christianity #god #godsword #godslove #holy #spirit #bible #holybible #bibleverse #hebrews #biblejournaling #verse #scripture #faithtalks #faithtalksrl #faith #hope #love #redeemed #faith #hope #love #faithtalks #talksoffaith #littlefaith #galations #praise #prayer #walkbyfaith #godhealsthebrokenhearted
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mothjournal14 · 2 months
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THE SECRET TO LIVING A BOUNTIFUL LIFE
All our lives we’re conditioned to long for more. More wealth, more fame, more pleasure. It doesn’t matter. Because, none of these lead us to the peace we’re truly seeking. And they never will. Image from Adobe Stock Images | Licensed for use The secret to living a bountiful life already exists with it us. In the world we are focused on the external. On the desires of the flesh. Everything we…
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clarissaxrose1212 · 4 months
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It is thanks to God that we can have faith even without literally seeing Him!!!!! Knowing that He will be with us and is helping us is also us having faith without actually seeing first!!!
🙏🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️🙌🙌🙌
#PraiseGod #PraiseTheLord #GodIsGood #Christian #LoveGod #LoveJesus #LoveEveryone #Love #FaithInGod #ChristianFaith #Faith #HopeInGod #Hope #BelieveInGod #BelieveInJesus #HaveFaith #HaveFaithInGod #TrustInGod #WalkByFaith #WalkByFaithNotBySight #Pray #GiveThanksToGod #Repent #Forgive #BibleQuote #ChristianQuote #Quote #BibleVerse #Corinthians #2Corinthians #2Corinthians5 #2Corinthians5v7 #KJV #🙏 #❤️ #🙌
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debthelibrarian · 7 months
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"Summer Break Encore: Higher Ground; Heaven's Tableland."
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poolsidepickledradish · 9 months
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spiritualpour · 1 year
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Understand that magnificence in your power and remain in gratitude as you trudge forward, Beloved.
Why is a gratitude journal important: watch the video. 
What does gratitude do to you spiritually? 
It opens your chakras as the grow of energy is in constant motion as you open up your soul lining aka your silver lining bowing before kneeling at the steps of God’s throne to give thanks. 
Gratitude is a solitary action. 
Only you can take part in the action of gratitude for yourself. I can tell you until the day is long how to be grateful, I can even show you by example- for those who walk by sight not by faith- of what gratitude does, brings and ultimately the role it plays in your life as a carrier of manifestations. 
How can only be grateful for what they cannot perceive as a blessing?
They cannot. They remain stuck in that unmoved placement because they refuse to instagnate their energy. That’s their business. 
You being grateful opens your lungs, removing stress, anxiety, fear, worry or even overthinking from your vessel, which blesses your heart as a working organ. 
The heart is a valve, not a pump. The lungs are what pump blood to the heart and the heart is what distributes the blood sending the flow of oxygen and blood to vital organs to keep the vessel thriving. 
Ever notice when you are at a state of disposition, your diaphragm kills yo ass quick? 
That is your solar plexus chakra being halted abruptly. 
By “getting what you need to off your chest”, you can act in gratitude by writing it down- since you must have proof (walk by sight) to see how God has blessed you as you journey into an abundant mindset knowing (walking by faith) that God has blessed and favored you immensely. 
Perhaps you just were not able to see it… but now you can via a gratitude scribble.
Do yourself a service & bless your lungs to love your heart by getting a gratitude journal.
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christblogtalk · 1 year
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Pastor Paul Morgan, founder of Chosen Generation Ministries in Richmond, VA, where church is not as usual. Pastor Paul guides and encourages the congregation to participate in a 2-way open dialogue; allowing openness and transparency about their Christian walk. He fosters a safe and nonjudgmental atmosphere of mutual ministry and exhortation. He also has an independent counseling ministry with over 16 years of experience in individual, marital and family counseling, as well as facilitating workshops and seminars. Phone: 866 333.9505    Email: [email protected]     Website: www.chosenrva.com WEEKLY BROADCASTS: Spiritual Nuggets of Truth" 2nd & 4th Mondays @ 8 pm; “His Abounding Grace” Tuesdays @ 7 pm; ”Challenged To Change” 1st & 2nd Wednesdays @ 7 pm; "Declaring The Finished Work" 1st & 2nd Thursdays @ 12 Noon; "Friday Night Joy" 1st, 2nd & 4th Fridays @ 7 pm; "Bread Of Life" 1st & 3rd Sundays @ 7:00pm;  WEEKLY PRAYER:  “Mid-Day Glory Prayer”  Wednesdays @ 1:00pm - Dial-in  (267) 807-9605 Access Code: 732-499# (Listen later @ 267-807-9608 Access Code 732-499*)   MONTHLY BROADCASTS: “Adoration” 3rd Mondays @ 7 pm; “Matters of The Heart” 3rd Fridays @ 7pm; “Bold And Beautiful” 2nd Saturdays @ 10:00am; "R3 "Real Life, Real Men, Real Talk 2nd Sundays @ 7:00pm; “Marriage Takeover” 4th Sundays @ 7:00 pm        ALL TIMES EASTERN STANDARD
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empatdot · 1 year
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“Walk by faith, not by sight” floral design
(not original)
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brixx2130 · 1 year
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Colorful Be Still Christian Design
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Colorful Be Still Christian Design Fitting for you, "Don’t Stop believing in yourself because no one will do that for you." "Be Still". it can also be given as a Birthday or Christmas gift to your best friend. relative, boyfriend or Girlfriend who also loves God and have faith in Him “Be Still”. Design is also fitting in time for Christmas Day and also for Valentines day, "Perfect Gift for Christians".
To order please Click the Link Below. Thankyou!!!
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fakegingerrights · 5 months
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Walk By Faith (7)
[A/N: We're finally starting to get somewhere with this! TW for mentions of Concussions and physical violence (choking)]
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Crosshair was silent on the ride back to Kamino, not a word to his squad except a muttered thanks when ES-03 gave him a water pouch.
He knew he looked awful, but most of the damage was surface level. His armor took the brunt of it. With his newly fixed helmet, he examined his injuries, noting the faintest outline of dusty handprints under his shoulders and similar dust drag marks on his legs and presumably his back as well. His whole body was covered in what felt like a minor sunburn, with some more scaly bits on his right side that stung and were beginning to itch.
Tech had known he needed his helmet to see. Had known how to fix his helmet. He had also, presumably, dragged him away from the blast of the ion engine or his burns would be way worse.
"An anonymous contact. I... don't think they're too fond of the empire. But they were willing to help you. More than willing."
"My contact was the one who came up with this, one of the first implantless neural networks of this scale."
Tech was the genius. Hunter was the strategist. Kriff, even Wrecker was brilliant when it came to weapons and explosives.
But Crosshair was no slouch either, and right now several pieces were falling into place. Tech was currently on the run from the empire. Tech was stupidly sentimental in his own right when it came to his brothers. Tech helped build Echo's upgraded hardware.
Tech knew enough about neural networks to devise a helmet like his.
Tech loved him enough to do this.
Tech lead him on a wild krayt chase
Tech was looking out for him still.
He didn't need Tech's protection.
Damn it you Cha'kaar, just admit you miss them!
Crosshair shook his head roughly, wincing as his vision glitched and flickered. He was getting a headache. But he had just figured out something more important than his current discomfort. Tech was your contact. You had been working with traitors.
You were a traitor. You had to be. You had to have known.
The white halls of Kamino jittered and glitched as he stalked down them towards the medical bay. He knew he needed to get checked out, but he was looking for you.
Traitor. You were a traitor. Was he a traitor?
Crosshair’s breathing was unnaturally loud in his ears as he staggered and fell to his knees. When had his vision cut out?
He ripped his helmet off. Salt stung his raw, burnt face as he gasped for air. Distant footsteps echoed around his head, muffled words, a familiar voice, was saying something. To him?
“-ss, vod, you’re hyperventilating.”
Echo? Was that Echo’s voice? No. Different reg.
“Bev?” He croaked, turning towards the sound. Hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him to his feet by his breastplate. His balance was strange. Bev was solid beside him, taking most of his weight and helping him to an exam room, shutting the curtain behind him and guiding him to a cot.
“Can I get you out of that armor, Crosshair?” Bev asked, keeping his hand on his shoulder.
Crosshair shook his head, murmuring your name softly as he tried to get his addled brain into focus. Bev kept his hold on Crosshair's shoulder as he paged you discretely. He checked him over for a concussion and started getting bacta on the burns on his cheeks. Crosshair flinched every time the cold gel touched him, still staring vacantly into the distance. Well, even more so than he normally did.
"Crosshair?”
He gave a start. Bev was tapping on his shoulder, against the grey-coated plating. “I really need to examine you.”
Mutely, Crosshair nodded. Bev’s quick fingers caught the catches of his breastplate, making quick work of the plates. A knock on the door startled both of them.
“Maker, what happened to you?” You breathed, stepping into the room and taking in his soot covered and burned face and the littered injuries around his body. You moved to help Bev with your patient’s plates, but as soon as your fingers brushed him he snapped into motion.
His hand wrapped around your throat as he slammed you into the medical bench, cutting off your airway. His eyes were glazed over and his face stony. Even blind, his eyes bored into yours with frightening intensity.
Bev was quick to react, yanking Crosshair off of you and stepping between you two. Crosshair snarled, his face a mask of fury.
“Traitor.” He snarled at you, moving to lunge but Bev held him back.
“Your Doctor is no traitor.” He hissed, holding Crosshair away. Crosshair went limp, all the fight draining away as fast as it had come. His knees buckled and Bev was quick to catch him.
You were sitting up, rubbing your throat and coughing weakly. Dark bruises were forming, but it could definitely be worse.
“What’s going on?” You demand, your voice croaking and hoarse.
“Not sure. He’s been off the whole time.” Bev said sharply, draping him back on the cot and jabbing a port into Crosshair's hand, holding him to the bed with his off hand as he paws through his bag looking for a sedative that wouldn't be too dangerous if his outburst was caused by a concussion. Crosshair didn't fight, just laying limp where he was left, his eyes wide and empty as his chest heaved. Hyperventilating.
Slowly, whatever Bev managed to give him took effect and his eyes slowly drifted closed, his panting slowing into the slow, metronome steady rhythm of sleep.
"Let me see your neck." Bev asked quietly, pulling out a tube of bacta.
"I'm alright." You rasp, but tilt your head to the side and let him apply a thin layer of the stuff, even though it wouldn't do much since there were no open wounds. Still, the pleasant cooling sensation was a relief on the fresh marks. "I'm... more worried about him, honestly."
"I know. I'm... anxious, about letting him back into the field. I was before but this confirms my worries even more. He needs help. Those chips alter your thought patterns and hormone levels to reduce trauma and depression symptoms, as well as any underlying mental illnesses. You saw how much of a mess I was after removing mine, but the special units go through literal hell in training." Bev rambled a bit, pulling out his datapad.
"I'm going to fudge his papers a bit. He needs rest. I'm marking him down as concussed and confused, explaining his violent outburst and get him put up in his current quarters with a 'treatment' plan. How's renovations coming along?" He looked up at you expectantly.
"...Better. I have the bed put together and everything, but I got a little distracted on my latest project." You explained, glancing back at Crosshair's pale form. Even asleep and drugged, there was a tension in him that hadn't quite left. A crease between his brows that never quite smoothed out.
You startled at your name, Bev placing a hand on your shoulder. "I know that look. You can't save them all. Doctor, I'm not even sure you can save him."
"Bev I can't just... I have to do this. This isn't..." You shook your head in frustration. "Where's his helmet. His face is damaged so his helmet must be too."
"He had torn it off in the hall. I left it there in favor of getting it to you. I'll go retrieve it." Bev offered, leaving you alone in the room with Crosshair. You took it upon yourself to get the thin blanket pulled up over him and arranged him in a more comfortable position.
As you went to adjust his thin pillow slightly, his eyes fluttered open, staring right through you. As if sensing your hesitation, he rolled his head towards you, a sigh catching in his rough throat as his temple connected with your hand. Some of the tension left his face.
"I forgive you." You murmur, not sure how aware he was. "We'll talk later, but I forgive you." You stroked his hair gently, fine silver curls soft under your fingertips. And sooty. Grey streaks were left on your fingertips.
"Here's his helmet, Doc." Bev called from the doorway. "Go nuts."
You caught the dirty gray helmet, instantly seeing where part of it had been smashed in and torn away. Wires had obviously been repaired after coming loose.
Tucked under them was a note that made your blood freeze.
"To the doctor in charge of CC 9904, otherwise known as Crosshair. And to me, I call him 'Brother.'....."
Crosshair ached all over. There was a strange weight on the forefront of his face, across his nose and around his eyes. He felt bruised and burned across his entire body. There was the sound of soft snores nearby, higher than a brothers' and feminine.
On instinct, he opened his eyes as he sat up wincing at first from the sharp pain in his ribs and back then blinking in the dim light of his room.
Oh. That was new.
A trembling hand reached up to investigate the weight on his face he couldn't see, fingers bumping against smooth metal and glass an inch from his cheekbones. Glasses? No. Goggles. They felt remarkably like the ones Tech wore.
The ones that pressed into his nose as he pressed his forehead against his brother's, the brother who had taken a shot meant for him
Ones that had often ended up digging into his shoulder as he and Wrecker wrangled Tech from his workbench to sleep
Goggles that-
Crosshair dug the heel of his palm into his forehead in an attempt to stop the haunting memories. He instantly hissed and lightened the contact, flipping his hand over to press the chronically icy backs of his fingers against his too hot face.
At his hiss, the snoring stopped and there was the sound of shifting fabric off to his right. You were curled up in a chair that hadn't been there before, stretching and rubbing your eyes. Now that he could see it, the entire room was different from when he had been here last. His bed had been changed, the mattress soft and thick beneath him. The blankets still smelled like sunshine rather than bleach, but there were more of them.
The closet doors had been pulled off, and now he could see a well stocked with civilian clothes. Male, civilian clothes. The desk by his bed had a lamp on it, off currently. There was also a window that he hadn't noticed, high above his bed. For once, it was sunny out on Kamino, lighting up the room without the need for lights.
"You're awake..." You yawned, stretching your arms over your head and running a hand through your hair, making a face as your fingers caught on a snarl from sleeping in a chair. "How're you feeling?"
"... Tired. Not... I don't know. And sore." He grumbled, wincing at the sound of his own voice. "What time is it?"
"Early morning. You've been asleep for a day and a half or so. Even after whatever Bev hit you with wore off." You explained, popping all your joints you could reach as you stood up, sighing in relief as the cracks sounded in the room.
"... I hurt you." He admitted, glancing at your neck. The bruises were faded thanks to the bacta, but he could still see them. "I... " He fumbled for an explanation, icy fear prickling at his neck. He could be decommissioned for that.
"You're forgiven, Crosshair." You broke him out of his building panic. "I know why you did it. Tech... left a note tucked into your helmet."
"Oh..." Crosshair wasn't sure how to respond to that.
"It... explained a lot of things. I thought I was a loyal citizen of the empire. I was so sure... The jedi had been traitors. That we had done the right thing. But those chips... I saw how it affected Bev. They're horrible. I don't know what to believe now."
Crosshair's hackles rose as he stared at you incredulously.
"I'm... me and Bev had a conversation. Bev and I. Whatever. I'm going to give you a choice."
You held up three fingers.
"One. You stay with the empire. Me and Bev will vanish, marked as traitors to the Empire. Neither us will fault you for that." You ticked off one finger, stepping closer. "Two. We tell the empire you're dead. You're sent back with your brothers. You go home with them." Another finger, another step. You're standing right next to the bed. Crosshair stares at you, pupils wide behind his new goggles. He looked so much like his brother right now. Your eyes traced over his tattoo.
"Three. We go with the plan Tech suggested. You stay here with us. We work to take the empire down from the inside out."
Crosshair starts, eyes going wide. He quickly looks down at his lap, fidgeting aimlessly with his hands.
Tech's plan.
Tech had a plan for him.
His brothers had a plan.
He wasn't alone.
"... I like option three." He muttered down at his lap. He jumped slightly as you put a hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome home, Commander Crosshair."
Crosshair hesitated, then leaned into the touch. "... Glad to be back." And he was. For the first time in a long, long while, Crosshair felt like himself.
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djfreddyb · 1 year
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My journey has reached another level again. When God shifts you, He will show you the people, places, and things that are not meant to be included in your elevation. You have to learn to cut your losses and move on. Because with God there is no losses. They are all lessons for winning. God gets the glory in my life. Favor leads my journey at all times. #Favor #KingsKid #God #walkbyfaith #therealdjfreddyb #DjfreddyBHeavyHitter #OneDoorClosesanotherDooropens #opportunity 👑✝️ 🙏🏾 #2023 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn7BL80ruaS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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kristicainbooks · 1 year
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New Year’s Sunday blessings, friends! How can I pray for you this week and this New Year? 🙏💗 The best part of a new year is the feeling of hope: having a clean slate, new chances, and a new opportunity. But when we remember where our true hope comes from, it is easier to be much more confident in our future. Because the surest foundation of hope in any year we welcome is faith. And if you’d like a condensed New Year’s read for how faith can build a life of honor and blessing, I recommend taking a minute to read Hebrews 11. There, Paul describes examples of faith heroes that can inspire all of us in our future horizons. From Abel, Enoch, and Noah to Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, and Joseph. Moses, Joshua, and Rahab. And a list of many others. Paul beautifully summarizes the promises God fulfills to those who walk by faith. So more than a single day or year, I challenge each of us to pursue the greater rewards reaped by a life led by faith and the promise of the new day that is dawning for all of us. ✨ #SundayBlessings #prayerrequests #walkbyfaith #newyearblessings #hebrews11 #christianwriter #cainspirations #kristicainbooks https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm4F15lrArJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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coghive · 1 year
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[Music Video] Walk By Faith - Tye Tribbett Ft. PJ Morton
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Tye Tribbett released the visual to “Walk By Faith” featuring PJ Morton. Tye Tribbett’s video premiered on BET Gospel as well as the Paramount Times Square Billboard. The video was directed by Tye Tribbett and his wife Shanté Tribbett and produced by A ChekTheCredits Production. Walk By Faith - Tye Tribbett Ft. PJ Morton https://youtu.be/QksSbgJCnyE Last month it was announced that Tye Tribbett earned two nominations for the 65th Annual GRAMMY Awards in the following categories: Best Gospel Album and Best Gospel Performance/Song. This marked Tribbett’s twelfth career nomination. Released in July via Motown Gospel, All Things New is Tye Tribbett’s trailblazing new album that encapsulates the ways he honors the musical tradition in which he operates, all while continuously redefining and stretching its limits within a modern musical landscape. Tribbett follows the throughline between gospel, funk and hip-hop, illustrating the way one flows into another and illuminates the connective tissue amongst them, all in both energy and heritage. Tye Tribbett has built a tremendous career and is globally known for his charismatic, dynamic personality, and range – from delivering high-energy praise songs to intimate worship moments and even African rhythms to trap beats. His music cannot be classified as just one genre, but his unique, abstract way encompasses all, which has helped him garner many awards and accolades, including two Grammy wins (and now seven Grammy nominations), five #1 albums, four #1 digital tracks, three #1 radio singles, and ten Billboard Top 10 songs. Read the full article
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