#the bad batch fennec Shand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leapingbadger · 7 months ago

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Entangled - Chapter 2 - Awry

Apparently, I have no patience. Chapter 2 is up now!

Will likely post updates daily.

The night air was cool. Stale puddles reflected the neon lights of the surrounding nightclubs and bars. Fennec Shand led Hunter down a particularly putrid smelling alley way, strewn with rubbish and the occasional pair of feet sticking out from under a crate. Hunter knew they weren’t dead; he could hear their hearts beating shallow in their chest.

He tugged at his armor. For something he had worn most of his life, it suddenly felt unfamiliar and cumbersome. He couldn’t say he preferred the soft, flowy linen clothes of Pabu, but had to admit they were more comfortable. His helmet, the new one Echo had supplied him had none of Tech’s modifications and was a constant disappointment. He had at least managed to paint it, so it didn’t look quite so much like clone trooper armor.

A large group of bounty hunters passed and Shand pushed Hunter into the wall of the alley, her helmet meeting his and she did so.

“More guild members. We’re going to have to be quick.”

“You want to enlighten me on the plan?” he asked.

His squad may not have been ones for following orders, but they always had a plan, or at least an idea of a plan before starting a mission. Shand may have known her objectives, but Hutner was in the dark and it wasn’t a place he was comfortable being.

“Moto has a friend who almost certainly knows where he is. We’re just going to have a little chat.”

“If he’s in the bar what makes you think every other bounty hunter doesn’t already have him?”

“He’s one of Jabba’s men. He’s untouchable.” She said.

“But you’re just going to stride in there and talk to him?”

“Of course not. You are.” She said. Hunter could swear he saw a glint in her eye through the slit in her helmet. She was enjoying this.

The bar was hidden down another narrow alley. Patrons spilled outside. Hunter could feel the vibration of the music in his chest. His ears prickled with the stimulation to his senses. He took a deep breath before following Shand inside.

The bar itself was dingy but packed. He and Shand skirted through other patrons before finding a spot to the right of the bar. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, Hunter leaned closer to hear over the din.

“The barman’s who you need to talk to.” Shand said.

“What are you going to do?” Hunter asked,

“I’m going to catch up with some old friends.”

Hunter scowled as he saw her disappear into the crowd. He knew working with Shand was a mistake.

He walked up to the bar and ordered a bitters, taking his helmet off and gulping it down and soon as it was put in front of him.

“You should stick close to your lady. This place isn’t safe,” the barman said. He was a Quarren, the purple tentacles protruding from his jaw twitching as he talked. His tone was neutral, but Hunter felt the threat under his words.

Hunter shrugged, “she can take care of herself.”

As if on queue, the noise level in the bar raised over the thumping of the music. A Twi’lek with long orange lekku went flying across the room, crashing into a crowd of helmeted bounty hunters. The crowd parted to let Shand charge after her target. She tackled him low, her heavy helmet doing to work to bowl him over.

“Well then, maybe you should stick with her,” the barman said.

Hunter knew before the Quarren pulled out his blaster, he caught the barrel as the shot went narrow, through the crowd and into the arm of a drunken patron who didn’t seem to feel it.

Hunter, still holding on to the blaster, pulled barman over the bar and swung down with his left arm, disarming him and breaking his elbow with a loud snapping pop. The barman let out a guttural cry in pain. Shand was at his side as he stunned him and started dragging him towards the exit.

“We’ve gotta go” she shouted in his ear.

“No kidding,” Hunter said, putting his helmet on with one hand and throwing the Quarren over his shoulder. He pulled out his own blaster and shot out a large dome light, hoping it would buy them enough cover to get out in the open.

There was a surge of bodies moving towards them. Hunter kept his eyes on Shand’s colorful braid and followed as she sprinted up the stairs and out into the wet night.

They ducked and dived around corners; the dead weight of the barman was heavy on Hunter’s shoulders. He was out of practice with this sort of thing and was beginning to feel it.

“Here,” Shand said, indicating for Hunter to drop him next to a doorframe in an alleyway. She slapped him until he came around. Hunter stood behind them, a blaster in both hands, in a T-pose, covering both entry points.

“Fennec Shand,” the barman said groggily, “You’re gunna die for this,” he chuckled.

“Nice to see you too, Dimitri. Just tell me where Moto is. That’s all we need.”

“What makes you think I’d give you that intel when I wouldn’t give it to anyone else.”

“Because I know you’ve been skimming off the top and soon, they’ll coming for you.”

Hunter noticed the Quarren’s white eyes widened and for the first time he struggled against Shand’s grip. She had him, and he knew it.

“I can…I can give you the coordinates… but you gotta protect me.”

“Of course,” she said cooly.

Hunter felt the vibration of feet, lots of them, in the surrounding alleyways.

“We can’t stay here,” he whispered. “they’re coming, we have to move,”

“Shh.” She spat before turning back to Dimitri, “Coordinates?” He shakily reached into his pocket and handed over a small data rod.

“Down!” hunter called, yanking Shand to the wet floor of the alleyway as a snap from a blaster rang out, echoing off the buildings.

Shand extricated herself from the tangle of bodies and Hunter saw the fire in her eyes as she glared at him. She turned to see Dimitri, the color draining from his face, the hot scorch mark between his white eyes as the life slowly drained from him.

“Kriff it,” she shouted, before another shot rang out, sparking the ground where her hand had just been.

Hunter flattened himself against the wall. He could feel them closing in but knew they had to take to sniper out first.

“Cover me, I’ll get the sniper,” he said, making to step out before Shand pulled him back.

“I’ll do it,” she said, shoving the data rod at him. She stepped out, twirled around and fired one shot. The sniper screamed, falling off their spot and through the roof of a lower building.

“We need to move,” She shouted.

“Wait,” Hutner said, pulling her back, flat against the wall. His arm, splayed out defensively, “There’s too many we…”

“I give the orders, Tracker. Not you.” She growled, pushing his arm off her and stepping out.

The first shot hit her in the stomach, sending her to her knees. The second and third came in quick succession, knocking her over.

Hunter stepped out and over her, a blaster in each hand, trying to cover her as best he could. He dove for a large piece of durasteel and used it for cover. Shand’s breathing was ragged, her heartbeat erratic. She was alive, at least. He heard her groan.

“Can you shoot?” Hunter asked amongst another wave of blaster fire. They were closing in.

“Yes,” Shand said through gritted teeth.

Keeping down, Hunter picked her up. Her left arm was wrapped around her stomach protectively. He maneuvered her so they were chest to chest, her right arm propped on his shoulder, blaster in hand.

Without asking for permission he set off, running in the opposite direction from the guild members. He heard the thunk, thunk, thunk as Shand’s shots landed, the bodies of her colleagues hitting the wet dirt. With his own blaster drawn they wended their way through the streets, Shand giving Hunter directions to her ship.

They finally made it to The Outcast, the guild members hot on their heels.

“Get us in the air,” Shand shouted as Hunter laid her as gently as he could on the floor of the cargo hold. She winced and curled up, both arms holding tightly to her abdomen.

Hunter charged through the body of the massive ship and was glad he knew where he was going. He heard blaster fire hit the hull, as the guild surrounded them.

“Get us out of here,” Shand screamed, all composure lost.

He sank into the pilot seat and hurriedly pulled the coordinates from the datarod, punching them in to the ships nav computer. Flicking switches and pulling levers he easily maneuvered the cumbersome ship into the air and through the atmosphere. He threw the lever for hyperspace. The familiar blue clouds were a pleasant balm from the chaos.

He let out a sigh and took the first breath he felt like he’d had in the last hour.

With the ship safely in hyperspace, Hunter made his way back down to the cargo hold. Shand was still sprawled on the floor where he had left her. She had managed to remove her helmet on her own but had overexerted herself. Hunter removed his and set it on the floor at her feet.

“Do you have a bunk somewhere?” he asked as she lay wincing, arm draped over her injured stomach.

“Yeah, it pulls down. There.” She indicated with her eyes and Hunter saw the lever to release the bunk. He pulled it and the bunk slowly dropped into place.

“Can you walk or…”

Shand attempted to sit but seemed to think better of it. Hunter nodded in understanding, gently scooping her into his arms. With all the snark and malice, he was surprised at how light she was.

He laid her on the bunk, pulling her braid over her shoulder and resting her head on the small, squashed looking pillow.

“Med kit?” he asked.

Again, she pointed with her eyes, and he retrieved it. He knelt at the side of the bunk, pulling his grime-soaked gloves off with his teeth and sanitizing his hands as best he could with the limited supplies that the med kit had to offer.

“Close your eyes,” he said softly, as Shand wreathed and twisted in pain.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He held up a needle. “It hurts less if you look away. My brother hates needles; I’ve got a lot of practice.”

“I’m a big girl,” she said witheringly as her face scrunched up in pain.

“Suit yourself,” Hunter said, putting the needle to her neck and pushing it into the skin.

She hissed and glared at him.

“It’ll help with the pain.” He said, his focus shifting to her stomach and the scorch marks littered across it. He looked at her for approval and she nodded.

Hunter gently opened her jacket and peeled up her shirt. She groaned as the fabric pulled away, revealing three deep and angry scorch marks. Luckily, they seemed to have missed any organs.

Her torso was strewn with scars from blaster bolts, stab wounds and Hunter thought he noticed a bite mark.

“I think bacta is your best bet.” He said.

He pulled a crumpled, well used, tube of bacta gel from the med kit, put a small amount on his index finger and hesitated before carefully touching it to the wound.

Shand cried out at the contact and Hunter winced at the sound. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he gently rubbed it in, before moving on to the next wound.

Hunter noticed her eyes fixed on him as he worked.

“What?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the task at hand.

“You really don’t look like other clones. I never noticed before.” she said softly.

Hunter shrugged, “We were different by design, but all clones are unique, despite what you were told.”

“I always thought you were just mindless killing machines, like the droids.”

“That’s not surprising, that’s what they wanted you to believe.”

“They?” she asked.

“The republic, the separatists, the empire. Whoever.” He said gruffly.

“Hmm, I guess so.” She said cooly.

He finished up with the last wound and noticed Shand relax into the bunk.

“Do you think you can stand so I can wrap you? It’ll help.” He said from experience.

She shook her head.

“Okay, we’ll have to do it with you lying down then.”

Hunter pulled the long, white bandage from the med kit and leaned closer. Shand arched her back so he could pass the cloth underneath her, pulling it tightly. He continued to wrap it, trying to be as gentle as possible but knowing the tighter it was, the better it would feel.

When he was done, she rested back down and let out a large sigh. “Thank you,” she said, and Hunter was surprised by her sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” he responded, rocking back onto his feet, standing and striding to the ladder at the far side of the cargo hold.

“I’ll check on things up top. You should rest.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“yeah and look where that got you.” He said with a raised eyebrow.

She laughed and groaned. He chanced a look back before climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

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skellymom · 1 year ago

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"UNFORTUNATE TURN OF EVENTS"

Hunter, Wrecker, Fennec Shand One Shot Alt Universe Fic

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3, EP 8-YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Word Count: 537

Background: Hunter and Wrecker take a job with Fennec Shand in exchange for Intel on the Empire...with an unfortunate turn of events. For whom?

Warning: Swearing, canon-typical violence. SPOILERS S3!

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

From the very beginning Hunter and Wrecker had misgivings about working with Fennec Shand.

Aside from her trying to maim or kill Hunter she took off with Omega, a terrified child.

He never knew where her loyalties lay. And she didn’t believe in even a smidgen of selflessness.

Now being rudely ordered around by this cold woman on some swampy ass crack of a planet for intel...that he wasn’t sure they’d ever see.

But he and Wrecker really had nothing to bargain with.

Now she was giving them both crap about losing Omega.

Honey, you don't know shit about where we’ve been or what we’ve experienced to protect our family.

Plus, she was willing to kidnap A KID for MONEY.

Fennec claimed to stop going after the bounty when whomever hired Fennec thought Omega would be safer with them. And she refused to tell them who that was.

Mighty nice of you, sweetheart.

“Guess they were wrong about that.” She taunted them.

Wrecker shot back “Guess you’ll work for anybody, as long as you get paid.”

Hunter was starting to lose his patience...and a bit of his empathy. At least for sketchy characters who dangled important info that would help a cause or an innocent person’s quality of life, just out of reach.

He knew he was becoming bitter. Compassion Fatigue.

“Good guys or bad guys, their money is all the same.” She trotted out THAT platitude.

“Well, money isn’t everything.” Hunter countered.

“Spoken by someone who doesn't have any.” Fennec sneered.

Under the helmet Hunter ground his teeth. She had no right to judge him and his brothers this way. Surely, she started from nothing? Didn’t most of the galaxy?

The bounty was bagged and brought back into Fennec’s ship.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Hang on. You promised information.” Hunter angrily demanded.

“I didn’t say I had it with me. But I’ll get it.” Fennec stared down at them. “After I deliver Sylar to my client."

“That’s NOT what we agreed on.” Hunter and Wrecker were PISSED, it showed on their faces.

“You can either fight me or trust me. Take your pick.”

Hunter and Wrecker glanced at one another stone faced.

She’s fucking with us.

“Good choice. I’ll be in touch.”

Then the confident, cold-blooded Fennec Shand made a HUGE mistake.

She turned her back on Hunter.

He shot her, his blaster was NOT set to stun.

She fell onto the gangplank, still somewhat alive. Instantly regretting that she mistook both clones for harmless fools.

Hunter stepped up and leaned down to face Fennec.

“You’re right, we’re credit-less. That’ll change when we turn in your bounty and scrap your ship. We also have your contacts and intel now, too.”

Fennec gasped, clinging onto the last shred of life.

“Too late for YOU to learn a valuable lesson: Don’t FUCK with people who have loved ones...cause we’ll do ANYTHING to secure their safety.”

Wrecker yanked up Fennecs dying body from the gangplank so he could pilot her ship. “Heh, didn’t she say something earlier about eventually everyone’s luck runs out?”

“Guess she thought it didn’t apply to HER.” Hunter walked off to pilot the Marauder.

Maker help ANYONE standing in the way of Clone Force-99.

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