#cadet crosshair

[vivaislenska]

A ‘teenage’ Crosshair too!

[ninjadeathblade]

Febuwhump Day Twenty Eight: (Alt. Prompt) Last man standing

Warnings: Being sick, combat training

Word count: 602

Author's notes: The one and only thing I have written for The Bad Batch this month, happy Season Three Episode Four.

Crosshair ducked down behind the ledge of the tower, barely avoiding the bolts of fire that went past not a second later.

“Tech? Hunter? Wrecker?” He hissed into his comm. “I could use a distraction right now.”

Silence echoed back over the feed and he risked a quick peek down onto the field to spot where Wrecker had been swarmed by droids and his other two brothers seemed to have been tagged.

Right, stupid training regulations.

If you were tagged you were effectively dead and couldn't respond to comms.

And Wrecker was clearly too busy to reply.

“Useless di’kuts,” Crosshair sighed, quickly dodging a few more bolts.

The young clone swung his training rifle up with him, quickly sniping the droids that had been firing at him.

An overdramatic shout rang through the room and Crosshair rolled his eyes as Wrecker lay down on the floor.

That left him.

Last man standing.

He quickly sniped a few of the droids that were more sluggish about moving away from Wrecker before cursing as a bolt of training fire zipped past his helmet.

Crosshair wasted no time with picking off the last few before scaling back down the tower as the buzzer that signified the end of training sounded.

Wrecker clapped a hand onto his shoulder, jostling his skinnier brother. “Awright Cross! Nice job!”

The sniper kept his expression blank as he tugged his training helmet off, Maker forbid his brothers’ tease him. “I would have appreciated it more if you didn't go down so easily.”

“In my defence, ”Tech stated, a throaty sniff punctuating his words. “I am not functioning at usual standards due to the strain of the influenza virus I have picked up after you decided to drag us into a fight with a group of regs that had just returned from another planet.”

Crosshair shook his head before fixing Hunter with his piercing gaze. “And your excuse?”

Hunter shifted, averting his gaze. “Tech’s sniffing and coughing kept distracting me.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Crosshair dragged the word out, trying to highlight his disbelief - at Hunter's obvious lie - and annoyance to his brothers.

“Tech, I'm going to harass a medical droid to get you something to take. Hunter, you are clearly having migraine symptoms so I'm also gonna grab your painkillers, di’kut’ika. Wrecker, get Hunter to his bunk and then try to be quiet, however hard for you that may be.”

Wrecker mock-saluted before flinging their brother over his shoulder, Hunter's screeches of protest making Crosshair snicker.

After those two were gone he turned to Tech. “You look like you need to puke.”

Tech's nose scrunched. “I will inform you that I do not need to regurgitate our first meal, I am perfectly fine.”

Crosshair looped an arm around his brother's shoulders, guiding him towards the exit their other batchmates had taken. “Y'know, you really don't have to phrase it that way. Also, you definitely do, I've never seen you this pale aside from that one time when I mixed some of your rations into your drink.”

Tech gasped, turning to him with knitted eyebrows. “I was certain it was you! Why you-”

Crosshair quickly stepped back as Tech doubled over, proving Crosshair correct.

The silver-haired clone gently rubbed his brother's back, trying to give off an air of indifference.

When Tech straightened back up he adjusted his goggles with one hand, using the other to wipe the edges of his mouth.

“Yeah, I'm definitely going to harass a med droid.”

“That would be appreciated Crosshair, thank you.”

“Sure, whatever, just go back to the barracks and try not to throw up again.”

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 25: Lightning Strike

@febuwhump prompt Alt 9: Lightning Strike

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Cadet Hunter (C-9931), Cadet Crosshair, Ninety-Nine Cadet Batch as featured in my WIP fic 'Pieces of the People We Love' - haven't read it? This is a retelling of a scene from Part 1 from Hunter's POV. All you need to know is that Hunter is younger than Crosshair; they are from separate batches of enhanced clones and haven't been introduced yet. Word Count: ~2385 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Struggling with how a Kaminoan lightning storm affects his enhanced senses, a young enhanced clone cadet makes an unexpected friend

Hunter is about 8/9, Crosshair about 13 in this sequence

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ninety-Nine stopped and listened for a moment, swopping the food tray he carried to his left hand and raising his right to palm open the door.

As soon as he hit the keypad he braced himself.

The cadet inside came barrelling towards the opening, scraping past the door before it was wide enough to permit his skinny frame proper passage. Ninety-Nine caught him with a practiced flourish, turning the boy around and guiding him back inside.

"Hey, Three-One," he greeted with a genial smile. "Did you know it was me?"

The boy merely nodded, plastering himself to Ninety-Nine's side in a way which impeded both of their passage across the room. Ninety-Nine rolled his eyes and let the boy be dragged along, eventually laying the tray down on the table.

"Sit up and eat your lunch," he instructed. "I'll tidy up."

Not that there was much to do. Three of the four bunk beds were stripped and bare. The last occupied bunk was a nest of tangled blankets, but other than that 9931 was a relatively tidy resident of the room.

He didn't have any belongings to make a mess with.

Still, Ninety-Nine folded the blankets down neatly and did what he could to plump the thin pillow. It was more to show the kid he cared than because it was necessary. Maker knew the other maintenance clones were at a loss dealing with this solitary enhanced cadet.

When the youngster had finished eating – he was picky about what he had, and the plate was still half-full – Ninety-Nine creaked his bent body down onto the bench opposite.

"What have you been up to, Three-One?" he asked, nodding enthusiastically to encourage the boy to talk.

9931 slipped from the table and darted to a storage locker, coming back with a datapad.

"Unconventional warfare," he said, his quiet voice just for Ninety-Nine's ears, a hand curling around Ninety-Nine's sleeve as he spoke. It was such a difference from the boisterous cadets in the main halls, or even the other small groups of enhanced cadets.

He sat with the boy for a while, letting him flick through diagrams of ambush tactics and environmental traps. Then he reached for the tray and its half-finished meal.

The change in 9931 was instant. He dropped the datapad and clung onto Ninety-Nine instead, a desperate look on his face.

"You can't go."

"I have to, Three-One," he said resignedly, offering the boy a smile even as he peeled the grasping fingers from his arm. "I have other duties."

The boy looked distraught. "There's a storm coming."

Ninety-Nine looked out the window at the overcast Kaminoan ocean - grey but calm. He huffed a small smile. “You’re always right about these things,” he acknowledged, glancing back at the cadet. "Are you scared of the lightning, Three-One?"

No answer. Ninety-Nine wondered what the Kaminoans had done to enhance the 99-Threes. It certainly wasn't the same as his brothers' enhancement.

Regretfully he extracted himself from 9931's clinging grasp and heading for the door. Three-One trailed him for a moment before darting ahead.

"Don't go," repeated the cadet, and now an edge of demand entered his voice. Skinny arms and legs splayed in a star, blocking the door. “Don’t.”

Ninety-Nine sighed and rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, crouching down to his height to speak to him.

"You're lonely, I understand" he said, the softness of sympathy in his words echoing in the quiet space between them. It was unfathomable to him that, a fortnight after his last batchmate was decommissioned, 9931 was still alone in his barracks. Ninety-Nine felt sure this clone should be fostered into another group of enhanced cadets, but nobody cared what a defective maintenance clone thought.

Slowly he creaked back to his feet, reaching over Three-One's head for the door controls.

“I’ll see you again next time I’m on rota in this part of the city,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice.

9931 turned into a ball of desperate fury, clawing at Ninety-Nine’s clothes and arms, struggling to get past him to the doorway. Ninety-Nine gripped him firmly, pushing him back into the room, shoving head, arms, legs, arms again, back from the rapidly shrinking gap as the door hissed closed once more. Three-One’s wordless noises of distress could be heard until the last, when Ninety-Nine snatched his hand back to stop it being trapped in the door.

He sighed as he reached up and activated the door lock. Then stood and started at the red light for a long moment, thinking.

On the other side of the door he could hear the thump and slide of the lonely young cadet slumping against the door-frame, the quiet snuffling of tears that followed.

Hesitantly, glancing round to make sure he wasn’t being watched, Ninety-Nine deactivated the lock. There. If anyone asked, he could blame it on forgetfulness, or mis-keying the code. Nobody expected much of defective clones anyway. And it wasn’t like he was leaving the door open. Just leaving it unlocked so that if Three-One tried the controls from the inside, it would work.

*

C-9931 paced circuits of the room, trailing his fingers along the wall and the thick transparisteel window which protected the near-empty bunk room from the roiling ocean outside. The slide of his fingertips across the smooth surface was barely enough to ground him, trying to keep his thoughts in his body as the swell of the storm grew outside.

9931 could feel the electromagnetic potential even through the insulated walls of the Kaminoan city. It felt to him like a vast pressure building, an intangible force pressing against a sense he had never adequately described to anyone but had realised early on he didn’t share with most of his brothers.

As much as he hated the daily susurrus of the city’s power-systems tingling at the edge of his heightened perception, the planet’s storms were worse. The build and sudden release of energy whipped through his senses with such force that it was akin to pain, a deep-seated ache that clouded his mind and couldn’t be escaped. There was nothing to do but wait it out.

He needed this sense. He knew it in a way that brought little comfort. The Kaminoans were so pleased with him because of his enhanced senses, thrilled whenever he stretched his awareness to the edge of what was possible. Congratulated themselves on the way he could sense the EM flow of the city, the labs, the training rooms.

He had seen brothers decommissioned because they didn’t share the sense that made him so useful.

He had seen brothers decommissioned because they couldn’t handle the pain that came with the overwhelm.

The sudden, sharp increase in pressure in his head let him know what was coming. He flinched, hands going to his head, cringing as the storm finally broke outside with the first snap of lightning forking down towards the turbulent ocean.

The discharge of the lightning strike brought with it a lessening of potential, but 9931 knew it was temporary. Kamino’s storms could last for hours; days. It might be mere minutes before the next strike. That familiar build-agony-release would constrict his mind again, and again, until the storm blew itself out.

When he was small, he’d had a brother who understood. One from his batch of five who shared the sense. 9934’s EM sense had been even greater than 9931’s.

Too sensitive. 9934 had been decommissioned when they were eighteen months old. Now 9931 was three, and desperate to survive the fate which had befallen each of his brothers.

The storms had been easier to weather with them. Even if they didn’t share his senses, their presence had been a welcome distraction. They could coax him through the worst of it if they were in training, or simply hold him so he could ground himself in their presence if they were on downtime.

Now he was the last one left, and he wouldn’t let the Kaminoans know he was struggling. Couldn’t afford to. Not when he knew what awaited a failure to fulfil expectations.

Another build of pressure. Another snap of pain as the storm’s potential discharged in a flash of lightning. 9931 spun into the wall, crushing himself to the surface, tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut. His fingers clawed uselessly against the hollow of the door-frame, seeking any sensation to drown out the ache of the storm’s fluctuations.

A beep as his fingers passed over the touchpad. The door whooshed open.

Startled, 9931 jumped back and stared warily at the now unbarred entry. No-one there. Just an empty corridor outside; somewhere to flee to, to explore, to try and seek out anything to distract him from the storm.

Tentatively, on muffled steps, he left the room and started down the long hallways of Kamino.

*

For a time, the exploration distracted him. Many of the doors were locked, but even a narrow storage nook was a good hiding place for a small clone cadet. It was easy for 9931 to avoid anyone in the passageways – his enhanced senses meant he knew they were coming long before they were at risk of finding him and ending his freedom.

The storm still blew outside, the build-snap-ache pressing at his mind with the lightning even if he could no longer see out into the roiling sky. Before long the stabs of pain it brought to his head were too intense to ignore.

9931 knew he should find his way back to his own room, but now his vision blurred with the pain and he wasn’t sure how far he had come. Palming open the nearest door, he stumbled into a familiar-looking but odd-smelling room. A bunk room, like his, only filled with the scattered detritus of living and the scent of other clones.

Too tired to question or explore further, 9931 stumbled to the nearest bunk and crawled into it, dragging the blanket around himself. He folded the fabric up over his head, letting it scratch against his skin, taking a deep breath and surrounding himself with the reassuring smell of other clones.

Other clones. Cadets like him.

It wasn’t being held by his brothers, but it was better than wandering alone back to his room. His aching body sagging into the thin mattress, 9931 closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift.

*

The door opened. 9931’s attention snapped sharply back to the room outside the cocoon of the blanket, straining to listen. The electromagnetic fluctuations of the storm still trembled against his enhanced senses, but for now he tried to pay attention to what his normal senses were telling him.

Someone was moving about the room. 9931 stuffed his hands into his mouth, almost holding his breath, praying he wouldn’t be found.

The storm was building to a spike again. A sudden crescendo of pain, and he squeaked out a whimper of pain, hoping it was muffled by his hands. Outside the blanket, the sky flashed bright with lightning.

Then the blanket was whipped back, an older clone cadet glaring down at him. Before he really thought what he was doing 9931 launched himself at the bigger boy, arms going round his waist, burying his face in the boy’s chest.

“What are you doing?” snarled an irate teenaged voice, and a hand clamped round 9931’s upper arm and tried to push him away.

9931 tightened his grip, shuddering as another wave of pressure scraped over his raw senses before the flash-snap of lightning and thunder. A clone. Another cadet, and 9931 drank in his presence before, “Let go of me!”, the other boy’s fist twisted in the collar of his cadet reds and he was thrown roughly to the floor.

For a moment their eyes locked, 9931 gazing up into familiar dark brown eyes in an unfamiliar lean, narrow face. The teenaged cadet had a shock of silver-white hair which almost shone in the stormlit room, and a thin tracing of ink outlined his right eye.

The older cadet’s top lip curled in a snarl. “What’re you doing in here, reg?” he hissed, eyes narrowing to a fierce glare. His displeasure was clear, and 9931 would have shrunk away if not for the fresh strike from the storm which made him flinch, clamping his hands over his ears at the peak of pain.

The boy scoffed a laugh. “You little idiot,” he said, folding his arms. “It’s just an electrical storm.”

More lightning. 9931 couldn’t think, tangling his fingers into his short hair and tightening his grip to try and ground himself.

“I get it. You don’t like the storm,” came the unsympathetic comment from the silver-haired boy. He scowled down at 9931, fierce and unyielding. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

9931 said nothing. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure if they were from the pain of his ragged senses or the way the cadet had pushed him away with such aggression.

For a long moment he waited, afraid to make the next move, afraid also of what the irritable older boy was going to do.

“Oh for crying out loud,” the teenager muttered, and he hauled 9931 to his feet. Relief flooded through 9931, and he immediately pressed into the boy’s chest again, shivering and twitching as lightning struck and sent flinching stabs of pain through him.

“My head hurts,” he mumbled, all he could think of to say to explain his presence. “The storm makes my head hurt.”

His face buried in the warm darkness of the older boy’s shirt, 9931 felt a hesitant hand settle on his head. Nails slowly scraped against his scalp, and the sensation brought an odd relief as the older boy combed his fingers through his tangled hair.

“Have you… told anyone about that?” he was asked, and now the boy’s tone was softer.

Without looking up, 9931 shook his head. “Didn’t want to get decommissioned.”

The boy’s chest moved in a sigh. It sounded almost sympathetic.

Then, “Get off me.” 9931 found himself pushed away forcefully and held at arm’s length, looking up into the intense, tattoo-framed gaze of the older cadet once more. “I’m going to order you some painkillers. You’re going to take them. Then you’re going to get out of here. Understand?”

9931 nodded mutely. He sat back on the edge of the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket towards him and toying with it. The other boy stalked to the com panel by the door, summoning a medical droid with a handful of button punches.

He wasn’t being nice. That wasn’t the right word for it. His posture was still defensive and angry as he leaned by the door, waiting for the pain meds to arrive. But in 9931’s short life it was one of the first acts of unprompted kindness that had been directed his way.

Despite the storm he kept his gaze fixed on the older boy, memorising every inch of his face.

When the meds arrived the older boy brought them over, dumping the tablets unceremoniously into 9931’s curled hand and glaring until he had swallowed them.

“Thanks,” said 9931, no more than a whisper.

He wished he could press against the older boy again, just to feel connected for a few moments longer. He didn’t risk it. The boy looked ready to shove him away again even at this distance.

“Get out of here,” came the rough command. “Don’t tell anyone you were here.”

9931 nodded miserably, dragging himself to his feet, pulling the blanket with him before releasing it at last. He fidgeted a moment, trailing to the door before glancing back into the room.

“Get out,” the demand was repeated, and 9931 fled.

*

The storm passed. Another seven-day passed. 9931 thought about the tattooed, silver-haired cadet every day.

“C-9931, given the circumstances we have decided to move onto a different phase of your training. There is plenty for you still to cover from basic training, but without a squad of batchmates at the same developmental stage this is going to be difficult. We plan to take you off-planet to hone the use of your enhancements.

“Don’t worry, C-9931. Once you’ve mastered the role you will play as a trooper, we will assign you to a squad. You won’t be on your own much longer. This short training stint off-world is going to be good for you.

“I’m sure it won’t be long. The sooner you master using your enhancements in the field, the sooner you will be assigned to a unit.”

Ninety-Nine saw him off as they escorted him to the shuttle.

“Take care, Three-One,” he said with a sad smile.

9931 thought about telling him of the silver-haired boy who had found him during the storm. He wondered if Ninety-Nine knew who the other boy was.

He didn’t have chance.

He was placed into the shuttle and taken to the next stage of his training.

[matchademi]

Sol:* After scolding Crosshair and Hunter after they fought* Now both of you apologize on the count of three. One...two...three

Crosshair:.........

Hunter.........

Sol:I'm disappointed in both of you

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Cobalt got into a fight:

*eight year old Cobalt came into the barracks a bit roughed up from a fight*

Hunter: *protective big bro mode activating* Cobalt what happened

Cobalt: *shuffling his feet* I uh, kinda got into a fight

Hunter, Tech and Wrecker: *fretting over Cobalt like a bunch of mother hens*

Crosshair: did you win

[mroddmod]

one of the very few to show the batch kindness back on kamino

[alligatorpie1945]

Have some clone cadet shenanigans/

They are at that age where Hunter's hair is getting just long enough to get in his face. He was given a bandana to pull his hair back, and he just never stopped wearing it.

I've really been loving drawing them as cadets, so if anyone has some good clone cadet fics, please send them my way! <3

[zaana]

I'm convinced they used to do this

[adh-d2]

I've been thinking a lot about the way Tech and Crosshair speak, how they sound very different but there's a similarity in how precise and measured their voices are.

And now I have the following headcanons:

- Crosshair and Tech are tube twins and they're the youngest of the batch. 

- Crosshair was either nonverbal or selectively mute as a cadet. There was a time where the only person he'd murmer things to was Tech and Tech would 'translate' for him. 

- In contrast, Tech's always been super verbal but he still struggled to communicate for a while. He used to stumble over words and run out of breath a lot. Maybe he had a stutter. His thoughts just moved so fast that he felt like his voice couldn't keep up. 

- So anyway both of them had speech therapy and that's why their accents are different to the rest of the clones thank you for coming to my TechTalk

[cowboylikemorgan]

Between the clone cadets and the Tantiss kids, Hunter Bad Batch is really about to open “the Bad Batch’s School for Extraordinary Youngsters” 😭

[cloneenthusiast]

Cadet Batch giving Tech some much needed Info Dump Time

[local-cryptid]

pov: youre walking through tipoca city and come across these little gremlins

[dragon-pups]

More for the collection!

[clownbloody]

What do you want to be when you grow up?

[matchademi]

Sol:*is stuck in a why loop with Crosshair and Tech on a call with his batchmates* cadets go play witg your other brothers

Tech and Cross:Why?

Sol:because they want to play with you both

Tech and Cross: Why?

Sol: Because they love you

Tech and Cross:Why?

Sol:*puts on his command voice*cadets go play with your brothers. Now.

Tech and Cross: *runs away giggling*

Sol:* rubs his face sighing and looks at Thorn and there who are laughing at him* remind me to apologize to Maze when I see him how he I'd ot I have no idea I'm about ready to kick someone

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Movie night:

On Kamino the bad batch were excited, they and 99 would be having a movie night in their barracks.

The movie has been picked, a new one called "bullet train" and the batch were just waiting for 99 to arrive.

"When's bluir gonna get here?" Cobalt asked slightly impatiently.

The batch all groaned internally, this was the third time Cobalt had asked that in the last five minutes.

"He'll get here when he gets here Cobby, you just have to give him time." Hunter said trying to calm the inpatient 7 year old.

"I hope he's here soon, this is gonna be so much fun." Cobalt said bouncing on his toes slightly in excitement.

Only a couple of minutes later 99 came in holding a box in his hands which he set down on the couch before turning to the five eager faces looking at him.

"Hello boys." 99 said smiling at them.

"Bluir." The batch all cheered running at him.

99 fell back on the couch laughing as the five cadets all hugged him.

"I see you boys are excited." 99 said chuckling as the boys released him and sat down on either side of him.

"Yeah, so excited." Wrecker said nodding eagerly.

"Cobalt's been nagging our ears off for the last five minutes." Crosshair said.

"Well excuse me for being excited." Cobalt said holding his hands up defensively.

"Ok boys let's calm down." 99 said before the pair could start arguing.

"Sorry." Crosshair and Cobalt apologized.

"Alright, now let's sit down and enjoy our movie." 99 said.

With that the batch all sat down next to 99, Cobalt, Tech and Crosshair on his right and Hunter and Wrecker on his left.

99 handed out the candy between the batch and started the movie.

The batch quickly got into the movie, but no one enjoyed it more than Tech and Cobalt, Tech because it involved jets as well as some of the technical tips on flying them, and Cobalt because he thought Maverick was an awesome pilot and he wanted to be like that when he was older.

About halfway through the movie Cobalt spoke up.

"Bluir I need the bathroom." Cobalt said.

"Me too." Tech said.

"Okay go on then." 99 said pausing the movie.

The two nodded and headed to the bathroom.

Hunter checked the supply of snacks.

"We could do with a couple more drinks bluir, shall I go and top then up?" Hunter asked.

"Good Idea Hunter, Wrecker could you please help him?" 99 asked looking at Wrecker.

"Okey dokey bluir." Wrecker said giving 99 a playful salute.

Not long later Tech and Cobalt came back from the bathroom and Hunter and Wrecker returned with drinks.

When they sat down 99 unpaused the movie.

After a while the movie had ended and 99 turned off the TV.

He looked down when he heard a tiny yawn and couldn't help but smile.

The batch were all sleepy eyed and curled up close to 99 looking ready to fall asleep there.

One by one 99 carried each member of the batch to their bed and tucked them in.

He then kissed them all goodnight on each of their foreheads.

By the time he got to the door and looked back all five cadets were fast asleep.

"Sweet dreams boys." 99 said before turning off the lights and leaving them to sleep.