Work Text:
A bunch of misfits
Built to survive
The pride of their creator
To do what their brothers could not
When things go south
Crosshair
The lost one
Taken from them
Chained to the empire
His loyalty no longer his own
Wrecker
The scarred brawn
The rough and tumble gentle one
War did not take
His heart of gold
Echo
The odd one out
The bionic man
The one not born to them
Yet a batcher none the less
Hunter
The sergeant
The first into the fray
And the last one out
Learning to live without the war
Tech
The brains behind the operation
Forgetful that others do not see the obvious
That he sees right in front of him
Omega
The final one
The youngest child
The sister amongst all these unclaimed sons