#class one droids

[swtechspecs]

Czerka Corporation Master Control System ("Master-Com")

Source: The New Essential Guide to Droids (Del Rey, 2006)

[dire-kumori]

And here be my SW5e character, Aesop. They started out with a very very very veeeeery simplistic backstory - robot develops sentience and thirst for murder, robot gets a job as a bounty hunter so they can be legally sanctioned to do murder - and now they are my baby. They hide the fact that they're a rogue droid by covering up their body in layers of heavy clothes and explain the visible portion of their face plate visor as just a piece of headgear.

Name: AE-509, aka Aesop Species: Droid Class V Class: Fighter, Heavy Weapon Specialist Pronouns: They/them, he/him (would probably also answer to she/her but nobody's tried so far) Age: 6 Height: 6'8" Weight: 260 lbs Eyes: None Skin: None Hair: None Faith: The thrill of the hunt! Alignment: Balanced neutral

Aesop riding a stolen motorcycle (that we never use).

[mythicalyeticat]

Realistically how hard would it be a build a functional droid from Star Wars?

[youareheaven]

experiencing a severe Star Wars kick, feeling the intense need to finish painting my droid

[sw5w]

Bravo Flight in Formation

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:53:44

[skyguytoast]

DARK SIDE, SOFT HEART: SUITLESS!VADER X YOU

SYNOPSIS: where suitless!Vader is the right arm of the emperor with anger issues and you are his soft-spoken girlfriend who knows exactly how to bring him to his knees—with nothing more than a look.

WORDS: 600+

WARNING: nothing just fluffy, just a tiny bit of angst

A/N: hiii, dear lovers, I wrote this while waiting for my class to start. It’s a bit small, like probably one of the smallest as I wrote. 😉😘 anyway, comments, reblogs are appreciated. kisses and good reading 🥰🤩 Dividers by @cafekitsune

Vader was possessed — not by the Force, not by vengeance, but by the failure of a mission that should have been flawless.

Everything had gone wrong.

He had led a squad of Inquisitors in pursuit of one of the last remaining Jedi, a mission that was supposed to be swift, surgical, and final. It wasn’t even a full Jedi — just a Padawan. And yet… somehow, they had failed. Miserably. Two Inquisitors dead, another maimed. The others had fled — fled — like frightened children, disgracing everything he had trained into them.

Vader had expected power, precision, dominance. What he had seen instead was weakness.

And weakness had no place in his world.

The survivors suffered for their cowardice — his wrath descended like a star collapsing. He punished them without hesitation, a lesson carved into their flesh and bone. There would be no tolerance for failure. Not again.

By the time he returned to Mustafar, the fire inside him had grown unchecked. Fury rolled off of him like heat waves. His crimson saber roared to life, cleaving through anything and anyone foolish enough to be in his path — droids, furniture, command consoles, even the occasional stormtrooper caught in the wake of his rampage. Walls cracked. Steel melted. The fortress trembled under his wrath.

And then, suddenly, he was in your doorway.

The doors slammed behind him like a final verdict. You flinched, eyes wide, caught mid-page in your book, silk nightgown flowing like soft petals around your legs as you sat on the bed. The light from the hallway was devoured by his presence, all shadow and fury. His shoulders heaved with ragged breath, and those burning yellow eyes — normally hidden beneath the cold, black mask — flickered with a murderous storm.

You didn’t speak. Not at first.

You simply set your book aside, your fingers steady even as your heart raced. There was blood on his hands. His jaw was clenched tight, his entire body wound like a drawn wire. He was still ready to strike — to kill.

“Anakin,” you said softly, and it struck him like lightning.

That name. The name buried beneath layers of darkness and armor. Only you called him that, only you dared. And right now, it felt like an anchor thrown into the storm raging inside him.

He turned his head, jaw twitching. “Don’t,” he growled, voice raw, trembling. “Don’t say that name right now.”

But you were already rising from the bed, bare feet touching the cold obsidian floor. You approached without fear. Your hands reached for him — not to pull him close, but to ground him.

“I know what happened,” you whispered. “You lost control. They failed you. But you are still here. Still standing. You don’t have to carry this rage into our space.”

His fists were clenched, saber still in hand, his breathing ragged. His eyes flicked to your face — so calm, so tender — and for a moment, he was still. Then, with a trembling exhale, his weapon fell to the floor with a heavy clang.

And then… he dropped to his knees.

Not in defeat.

In surrender.

To you.

His forehead pressed against your stomach, his hands clutching your thighs as if they were the last solid thing in his galaxy. You slid your fingers into his sandy hair, gently tugging him closer, cradling him like a wounded beast.

“I’m here,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his temple. “You don’t have to be a god or a monster with me. Just breathe.”

His breath hitched. His hands trembled.

You were the only force in the galaxy that could bring Darth Vader to his knees — not with power, but with gentle. With love.

And as the chaos of the galaxy raged on outside, you held him together piece by piece, reminding the broken soul within the armor that he was still human, still Anakin — and still yours.

TAG LIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld

[hellfiresky]

That cursed Kaminoan sex ed

The downtime between missions was always a drag. Delta Squad spent their time lounging in their barracks, doing whatever they could to rest, and fill in the mind-numbing hours. Scorch, naturally, was never content to let a dull moment fester.

“Oi, vode,” Scorch, sprawled across his bunk wearing his ill-fitting red cadet fatigue as his top and full armour from his waist down, piped up. “You lads remember that kriffing awkward repro health module from Kamino? What class was that? Sentient Bio 101 or some dwang?”

“Sentient Reproduction and Biological Sustainability Efforts. Worst hour of my life. Long-necks droned through it as if it was some kind of sick droid sex.” Hunching over his datapad, and slicing through some random codes he picked up from their previous op, Fixer didn’t even look up.

“Ah, yeah, that’s the one!” Scorch’s grin was delightful. He yanked his own datapad from his pack, fingers excitedly tapping across the screen. “Guess what, vode? I still have it.”

“You kriffing didn’t,” Fixer finally looked up, his face was a perfect combo of disgust and resignation. “That thing’s foul. Why would you keep that?”

“Mmm why not?” Scorch hummed, scrolling his datapad to no end. “Oh, here we go! Jackpot!” The bleached blond haired RC stood up, and walked towards the broken holotable that was coated in dust in the middle of the room. “Ahem. As his anatomical conduit—”

“His dick,” Fixer cut in, deadpan, still typing binary codes at his datapad.

“—enters the designated receptive structure,” Scorch continued, voice shaking with barely contained laughter.

“Pussy,” Fixer chimed again.

“Scorch is,” Sev coughed from the corner. He pushed himself to focus on the array of weapons in front of him - clearly trying to stay out of this but failing miserably.

“—a critical phase of sentient synchronisation is initiated,” Scorch plowed on, finger jabbing the air.

“He’s pounding,” Fixer supplied with another non-lab grown definition of the act.

“Ugh, find a better word, you di’kut,” Sev lobbed a rolled-up towel at Fixer’s head. It missed and thwacked Scorch’s shin instead, but the demo expert didn’t flinch. “—This interaction, facilitated by coordinated muscular responses, creates a platform for genetic exchange within a controlled environment,” Scorch kept going.

“That’s literally just a corpo way of saying ‘he’s mounting it in,’” Fixer groaned, finally tossing his datapad aside to entertain his brother. “Who writes this stuff? Droids?”

“Really, vod? Mounting it in?” Sev snorted. “You’ve never gotten laid, have you? Kriffing mounting. What are you - describing two banthas fucking?”

Scorch, ignoring his brothers’ continued bickering, powered through to the end of the passage. “—The interaction typically resolves in a peak state of high-intensity release of all tensions!”

“They come,” Fixer said as a matter-of-factly.

“Yep. Both finally blow the hatch, game over,” Sev groaned.

The scattered laughter that followed was broken by the thud of a datapad hitting the floor. Boss, who’d been quietly suffering in his little corner by the window, finally snapped. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT YOU LOT?!” he shouted. “I’m trying to finish our report - cause NONE of you did it, and you’re over there reading Kamino’s sex ed instead of helping me?!”

“Maybe you should get your anatomical condui—“

“SHUT UP 62!”

—

There you go @orangez3st!

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello. Can I ask Lord Shen, NOS-4-A2, Horned King and Dr. Facilier with very smart but shy S/O?

Greetings Tumblr citizen, you most certainly can!! Love the variety here! Lowkey this was one of my favourites to write so I hope you like it!

Villains x SmartbutShy!S/O

Lord Shen

Oh? So you do talk.

You pointed out a discrepancy in the cannon’s design vs the quantity of gunpowder needed to shoot the given ammunition without careening backwards and killing the gunwolves – and all he could do was blink at you.

You spend all day hiding from the court, only to sneak in and tell him - to his face - that his weaponry was unfit for purpose, then propose a solution before he has time to open his beak??

...Are you engaged to anyone? Because if not he’s happy to remedy that-

As soon as your genius becomes apparent you go from barely present in Shen’s mind to a pillar of focus. He’s never met anyone so easily able to cut through the mess of mechanical and logistical issues of such vast quantities of metalwork – besides himself of course.

That you fall apart under any form of social pressure is...worrying however. China’s social hierarchy is a vicious thing, and such shyness is a weakness in even the most prosperous of courts – never mind his own.

He’s getting you a tutor. He cannot allow you to make an enemy within his walls when you are so closely intertwined. His word means much now that he’s killed most who would go against it, but he cannot protect you from everyone.

NOS4A2

Oh scrap and damn it all-!

It’s all he can do not to smash the unresponsive controls, and instead whizzes off into the rafters for a sulk to brood.

This ship was fried. It was charged enough to get somewhere, but if he couldn’t pinpoint a heading then he might as well be stranded on a stray asteroid instead of a merchant class vessel, for all the good it would do him.

He rolls his optics and pouts as a crewmember comes rushing in, unaware as he idly sizes them up from his vantage point. Not a droid. Stuck and he can’t even snack. Heinous.

He recognises you. The little one who didn’t talk much. It was a wonder the bigger crew members hadn’t accidentally sat on you for all you seemed able to disappear in to the background.

He all but jolts as you give the console a WHAM and everything comes online again – and gawps delightedly as your little fingers fly over the display, resetting coordinates and triangulating their position in 3D space, manually.

He wasn’t expecting such a solid grasp of intergalactic maps & positioning to come from someone who can barely string a sentence together! What a lovely surprise!!

You turn with an aborted shriek as he swoops down and clamps a hand over your mouth, grinning. The doors short circuit and slam shut with a bang, leaving him to loom over you as he idly tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello dear~” he purrs, chuckling as your eyes go wide. “Fancy being helpful?”

Horned King

A kindred spirit?? Finally.

He abhors unnecessary social interaction, so to find someone else who operates on the same principle is a breath of fresh air in his long, stale existence.

He's spent so long with only beasts, thickwitted huntsmen and Creeper for company that to see someone so clearly intelligent was almost a shock. The quiet, assesing draw in your eyes was what made him stop and consider you as someone of interest.

...Y’know, once he actually managed to speak to you. Crippling shyness on your end, a lack of patience for the living on his…

He perceives everybody in his lands as something to be used, and you are, unfortunately, no different no matter how many soft feelings you insist on wringing out of his dessicated black heart. Such a spark as yours cannot be wasted. But you are not suited for the battlefield.

It seems you might have a knack for statecraft, if the frankly boggling rate at which you read is any indication. You have an ability to catch loopholes and find solutions that actually help him run his ramshackle forces, and keep the castle running smoothly.

It turns out you are invaluable - and prone to making little nooks of book towers and blankets in his library. Which is adorable.

But only when reading. Spoken word renders you so anxious you can miss important details and become a doormat. A pity. But not an insurmountable issue.

Until they rot, his ears and mouth work perfectly well. You can be his sweet little shadow, and he the face of things.

He'd have it no other way, honestly.

Dr. Facilier

Now darlin, why so shy?

He’s watched you scurry away from his table more times than he can count. He gets the feeling that you’d cross over three streets and the river if you could, to avoid catching his eye on the way to work.

And yet… you always pass by. Watching as he shuffles his cards.

He’s mid scam on some hapless tourist, fingers deftly spinning though tricks as he pulls them into a tidy little scheme, when he catches you watching intently from the side.

Your eyes twitch down to his left sleeve. If he’d have been less of a showman he’d have frozen.

You sneaky little card counter – he tries a couple different tricks, catching where your eyes narrow as he slips cards under the table, into pockets and swaps coins out with dazzle enough to bamboozle even the slickest citygoer.

Your eyes track every single one.

Damn. He has GOT to get you on side. Can’t have such a cute clever thing like you out where he can’t see you…

He ignores the fact that his shadow has been leering at you for weeks and already knows where you live. Give a man some leeway if he likes to hear a cute little thing squeak when they trip over ‘nothing’ once in a while.

And it’s even cuter when he steps from the shadows and smoothly slips you under his arm.

After all! He couldn’t help but notice you don’t seem to have many friends, cher. And he can absolutely help you with that…

[yanderenightmare]

Prompt List

Just a little list of writing exercises.

Use the traits, characteristics, and anything else associated with the coming prompts to create a character.

More details here: Writer's Block

♡ Apex Predator Hybrids

Lion, Wolf, Shark, Tiger, Polar Bear, Grizzly Bear, Saltwater Crocodile, etc. 

Apex Predator Club

♡ Mythological/SciFi Creatures

Vampire, Succubus, Werewolf, Zombie, Ghost, Droid, Robot, Alien etc.

JJK as Mythic Creatures BNHA as Mythic Creatures

♡ Seven Days of the Week

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Yandere Days

♡ Seven Deadly Sins

Pride, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Envy, Greed. 

Yandere Seven Deadly Sins

♡ Seven Heavenly Virtues

Humility, Patience, Diligence, Temperance, Chastity, Gratitude, Charity. 

Yandere Seven Heavenly Virtues

♡ The Four Seasons

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.

The Four Seasons as Boyfriends

♡ The Twelve Zodiac Signs

Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces. You can break them up into fire, water, earth, and air signs.

♡ The Twelve Months

January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December. You can break them up into winter, spring, summer, and fall months.

♡ Numbers

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten etc.

♡ Five (or ten) Fingers

Pinkie, Ring finger, Middle finger, Pointer, Thumb. Have fun with their names and qualities.

♡ Nature’s Four (or more) Elements

Water, Earth, Fire, Air—plus Plasma, Gravity, Ice, Life, etc, if you want.

♡ Eras

The Dark Ages, Industrial Age, Age of Oil, Atomic Era, Space Age, Internet Age, etc.

♡ Fashion Periods

Victorian, Art Nouveau, WW1, Art Deco, The Roaring 20s, WW2, Hollywood, Rock & Roll, Swinging Sixties, Flower Power, Disco Fever, New Romantics, Yuppies, Grunge, Boho, Fast Fashion, Thrifting, etc.

♡ Today’s Fashion Styles

Minimalism, Chic, Thriftstore, Goth, Grunge, Punk, Hippie, Couture, Old Money, Streetwear, Preppy, etc.

♡ The Eight Planets + Pluto

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto.

♡ Other Celestial Bodies

Sun, Moon, The North Star, Shooting Star, Comets, etc.

♡ Countries (pick & choose)

America, Britain, Spain, Japan, etc… think Hetalia, though I haven’t watched it personally…

♡ American States (pick & choose)

California, Texas, Florida, New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio, Georgia, etc.

♡ The Five (or more) Flavors

Sweet, Salty, Sour, Bitter, and Umami—and No Flavor, like pure water.

♡ The Five (or more) Senses

Sight, Smell, Hearing, Taste, Touch—Balance and Proprioception—and maybe even Emotion and Thinking.

♡ Core Subjects (or others)

English, History, Social Studies, Science, Foreign Language, Gym, Art, Music, Geography, etc. Maybe base it around the teacher of each class.

♡ School Mobs

Principal, Homeroom Teacher, Student Council President, Tutor, Class Rep, Janitor, Frat House President, Frat House Alumni, Valedictorian, Head Nurse, etc. You can mix this one with the one on Core Subjects above, including them as teachers.

♡ The Periodic Table (pick & choose)

Gold, Oxygen, Arsenic, Tungsten, etc.

♡ Music Genres

Classical, Rock, Rap, Pop, Jazz, Country, Electronic, Dubstep, House, Folk, Hip-hop, New-Age, Indie, Beatbox, A’cappella, Heavy Metal, Bebop, etc.

♡ TV and Movie Genres

Horror, Thriller, Western, Romance, Comedy, Action, Sci-Fi, Children’s movie, Fantasy, Adventure, Drama, Documentary, Mockumentary, Musical, Animation, Anime, Porn, Reality TV, News, etc.

♡ Book and Writing Genres

Poetry, Fiction, True Events, Scientific, Picture, Fan-fiction, Joke, Fun Fact, Cook, Craft, Knitting, Magazine, etc.

♡ Hobbies

Singing, Knitting, Arts, Sewing, Writing, Gaming, etc.

♡ Toxic traits

Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Protectiveness, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Lying, Selfishness, Controlling behaviour, Jealousy, Boundary-violating, Judgemental, Defensive, Stone-walling, Feigning Ignorance, Avoiding Accountability, Aggressive, Querrelsome, etc.

♡ Food

Junk, Guilty pleasure, Fast food, Frozen, Healthy, Self-grown, Gains, Street, Dessert, Candy, etc.

♡ Holidays and Celebrations

Christmas, Valentine's, Halloween, Easter, Snow-day, April Fools, Birthday, Summer break, Saint Patrick's, etc.

♡ The Seven Colors of the Rainbow

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet.

♡ Sports

Gaming, Chess, Football, Basketball, Tennis, Frisbee Golf, Golf, etc.

♡ Tools

Hammer, Wrench, Drill, Saw, etc.

♡ Sicknesses

Common cold, Flu, Mono, Hangover, Crossfade, etc.

♡ The Eight Core Emotions

Ecstasy, Admiration, Terror, Amazement, Grief, Loathing, Rage, Vigilance.

♡ Transportation Methods

Car, Train, Motorcycle, Dirt bike, Boat, Plane, Submarine, Bike, Walking, etc.

♡ Weaponry

Gun, Sword, Dagger, Bow and Arrow, Crossbow, Whip, Slingshot, Poison, etc.

♡ Terrain

Forest, Desert, Ocean, Tundra, etc—think Minecraft biomes!

♡ Fonts

Times New Roman, Futura, Impact, Papyrus, etc. Probably good to have pictures with this one.

♡ Types of Depression + Symptoms

Melancholia, Anxiety, Insomnia, Hypersomnia, Bipolar, Despondency, Amnesia, Self-consciousness, etc.

♡ Art Mediums

Oil Paint, Acrylic, Charcoal, Pastel, Watercolor, Collage, Digital, etc.

♡ Architecture Styles

Neoclassical, Gothic, Contemporary, Industrial, Victorian, Colonial, Vernacular, Suburban, etc.

♡ A Deck of Cards

Spade, Hearts, Diamond, Clover—King, Queen, Jack, Ace, Joker, Numbers. Maybe make them four opposing kingdoms, with the reader being a delegator of some kind.

♡ Chess Pieces

White, Black—King, Queen, Rook, Bishop, Knight, Pawn. Two opposing sides, with the reader being a delegator of some kind maybe.

♡ Different Types of Money

Nickel, Dime, Penny, Quarter, One dollar bill, Five dollar bill, Twenty dollar bill, Transaction, Million dollar check, Inheritance, Settlement, Insurance, Paycheck, Tax return, etc.

♡ Types of Dates

Cinema, home, cafe, amusement park, picnic, hike, beach, etc.

♡ Grocery Store Aisles

Fresh Produce Section, Deli and Prepared Foods, Frozen Foods, Bakery and Bread, Meat and Seafood, Dairy, Cereal and Breakfast foods, Snack and Chip, Alcohol, Pet Food, Soft Drinks, Canned food, Health and Body Care, Magazine and Books, Cleaning Products, Condiments and Sauces, Cooking Oils, Baking supplies, etc.

♡ The Six Military Branches

The Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Air Force, Space Force, Coast Guard.

♡ Palace Mobs

King, Queen, Prince, Princess, Ward, Advisor, Grand Knight, Groundskeeper, Head Cook, Grand Healer, Priest, etc.

♡ Harry Potter

Hogwarts’ Houses—Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw.

Hogwarts’ Mandatory Classes—Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, Astronomy, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Flying/Quidditch. Plus elective classes like Care of Magical Creatures, Alchemy, Muggle Studies, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy.

If you base it on teachers, you can also include the Principal, Groundskeeper, and Head Nurse.

Patronus (Pick & Choose)—There are more than a hundred different ones.

The Books—Philosopher's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, Deathly Hallows.

♡ Star Wars

Color of Lightsabers—Green, Blue, Yellow, Red, Orange, Purple, White, Black.

♡ Game Characters

Minecraft Mobs & Characters—Steve, Enderman, Pigman, Skeleton, Witch, Villager, Zombie, Stone Golem, Ender Dragon, etc.

Dungeons & Dragons Base Classes—Barbarian, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Fighter, Monk, Paladin, Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard.

You can also use any other type of game…

♡ Professions

This is a whole list in and of itself. These don’t have to be grouped together, but can be prompts on there own:

♡ Gangsters

Kingpin, Mob, Mafia, Loan sharks, Extortionists, Blackmailers, Pimp, Drug dealers, Gang member, Muscle, Hitman, Mercenary, Bounty hunter, Sex traffickers, etc.

♡ Government + Law & Order

King, President, Governor, Politician, Senator, Congressman, Law official, Judge, Lawyer, Agent, Spy, Cop, Parole officer, Warden, Prison guard, etc.

♡ Health

Doctor, Surgeon, Therapist, Psychiatrist, Dentist, Personal trainer, Health manager, etc.

♡ Art

Painter, Sculptor, Writer, Poet, Film director, Photographer, Singer, etc.

♡ Service

Bartender, Waiter, Barista, Butler, etc.

♡ Sex worker

Pornstar, Prondirector, Stripper, Escort, Sugarbaby, etc.

♡ Transportation

Pilot, Chueffer, Taxi driver, Train conductor, Ship’s Captain, etc.

♡ Sport

Pro-athlete, Pro-gamer, Chessplayer, Football player, American football player, Basketball player, etc.

♡ Rural

Cowboy, Farmer, Hermit, Hunter, etc.

♡ Handymen

Carpenter, Plumber, Electrician, Contractor, Construction worker, Mechanic, etc.

♡ Science

Scientist, Biologist, Chemist, etc.

♡ Business mogul & Industrialists

Network owner, Tech innovator, Factory owner, Company owner, etc.

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Creche-master Obi-Wan Kenobi AU that im lit making up on the spot rn LETS GOOOO

Im not a expert on his past and tbh ive prob mixed up certain events so forgive me for being mega vague on the backstory ok if i stop to research this i'll never get around to actually writing this post

Obi-Wan comes back from the horrors of Melida/Daan more determined than ever to fulfill the role of Peacekeeper

But he gets pulled into another war. Another huge conflict. More death and heartbreak and trauma piles on over the years

And when he gets back from surviving Mandalore he decides he's had enough. He cant do this AGAIN

Obi-Wan resigns from being a padawan. It breaks Qui-Gon's heart. It tears Obi-Wan's too. He promised he wouldnt leave. It was one of the requirements to Qui-Gon even taking him on

He cycles through different aspects of the Service Corps, looking for his place in the world galaxy

He's working in the creche when Anakin comes through

Anakin is already a claimed padawan (by Qui-Gon if he lived or by someone else) but he's still got a few years in the upper ages of the creche. The council deems it especially important as Anakin has no sense of Jedi culture and tradition that comes with the upbringing

Its very rough for Anakin for a multitude of reasons

And Obi-Wan steps up

Obi-Wan sits with him when the other kids refuse to. Obi-Wan translates the assignments for him as he painfully learns Aurebesh. Obi-Wan holds him through the nightmares and smuggles him droid parts to play with and gets him on a nutrition plan

Anakin LOVES Obi-Wan his first friend and repeatedly sneaks out to come see him after he moves into the Padawan-Master quarters

And then the war rolls around

That awkward moment when the council realized their best strategist and one of their most experienced fighters and top Soresu Masters is a crechemaster that dropped out of knighthood

The even more awkward moment when the top GAR officials found out the most promising Jedi general is not only a kindergarten teacher but also told Mace Windu to fuck off when trying to recruit him (in any capacity)

Obi-Wan used to teach Ahsoka. When the war came he found he couldnt stomach teaching the older initiates strategy and battle tactics. He knows it will save their lives but all he sees are the bodies of the Young he couldnt save and he re-assigns himself to the younger classes

Idk where to take it from here. The next step would be him meeting the clones who LOVE him. Maybe the council manages to get him on a battlefield? Maybe he taking his class on a overnight field trip and Anakin "i overprotect because i have control issues" Skywalker sends a group to escort them?

[swtechspecs]

Polis Massan Chroon-Tan B-Machine (EW-3 Midwife Droid)

Source: Revenge of the Sith Visual Dictionary (Dorling Kindersley, 2005)

[dearstvckyx]

Every night, im sick and why? - Pezzy

It’s been five weeks since you last saw Max. You’ve both been missing each other deeply. When strange symptoms and late nights of nausea hit you hard in San Francisco, you chalk it up to stress. But a joking comment from Max turns into reality—and your world shifts completely. - The Neighbourhood , Staying Up

Pezzy x Reader , mentions of other steamers

Warnings: Pregnancy, mild language, comfort, found family, fluff, emotional moments.

The Neighbourhood Lyrics Masterlist - ⌂

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, the blue light of your laptop glowing on your face. It’s nearly 1 a.m. in San Francisco, and for the fifth night in a row, you feel like crap.

Your stomach twists. Your throat’s sore. You’re tired, nauseous, and not entirely sure why—until the FaceTime screen flashes and your heart leaps at the name.

MaxTheCat is calling…

You answer with a groggy smile. “Hey, Max”

He lights up at the sight of you, messy hair and all. “Hey you. Damn, you look like a zombie.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, rubbing your temple. “I feel like one.”

His brow creases. “Still sick?”

You nod. “Yeah… every night, I’m sick and I don’t know why.”

He pauses for a beat, then lets out a laugh. “Maybe you’re pregnant or something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying!” He throws his hands up. “That’d explain the mood swings and the fact you said ‘I miss you’ four times yesterday.”

You try to laugh it off, but something twists in your stomach—more nerves than nausea now. “You think I should… test?”

He goes quiet. “Wait. Are we—like, could we actually be?”

You both just stare at each other, the possibility suddenly becoming terrifyingly real.

Three Days Later

You’re staring down at a stick. Two pink lines. Not one.

You sit on the bathroom floor in your tiny San Francisco apartment, knees pulled to your chest.

Then you pick up your phone, looking for your longtime boyfriend’s name.

After 2 rings, he picks up the phone but before he could say anything you beat him to the punch “Max?”

His voice crackles through. “What’s up, beautiful?”

You take a breath. “You were right.”

There’s silence. Then: “Wait. You’re serious?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Six Months Later – Texas

The warm Texas sun dipped low in the sky, casting gold light through yours and Max’s living room windows as you stood back and watched pure chaos unfold in slow motion.

Grizzy was sitting on the floor surrounded by tools for a changing table, staring at the instructions, “who the hell made this so complicated to understand?”

“I think you just slow there man,” Droid offered, half-laughing, half-panicking as a paint can almost exploded on him as he was opening it.

“Jesus Christ!” Droid shouted, hands flying up.

“I told you not to pry it open like that dumbass!” Puffer called from the kitchen, holding a bottle of water, handing it to you.

You sat on the couch, hand on your belly as Olivia kicked softly inside. The boys had insisted on helping build Olivia’s nursery and decorating it. now that it was getting closer to the date and secretly didn’t want you nor Max to worry about it. Max’s mom had sent him some heirloom stuff and even his old baby stuff to add.

“Why didn’t we just pay someone to build this shit?” Grizzy grumbled again, staring at the pile of sad, scattered pieces on the floor.

“Because we’re not millionaires,” Smii7y mumbled under his breath, taping a paper “Baby Pez” banner to the wall.

The room fell silent.

Seven heads turned in unison.

Smii7y blinked, “wot?”

“You literally own a house and rent an apartment, bro,” Pezzy said slowly.

“You flew us first-class to Vegas because you ‘were bored,’” Droid added.

“You accidentally bought a second gaming PC because you forgot you already had one,” Puffer said, smirking.

Smii7y shrugged. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wanna pay for someone to build something.”

You let out a laugh, the first full one in days, hand on your belly. “This baby is going to have the weirdest, best set of uncles.”

Max came over, pulling you gently to your feet. “You say weird like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m pretty sure our daughter’s first word is gonna be ‘Puffer,’ and I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared for that.”

“I hope it’s ‘Grizzy,’” Grizzy piped up, holding up a screw like it was a microphone. “I’ve already accepted the role of favorite.”

Max leaned in and kissed your temple. “She’s gonna love all of you. But mostly you.”

Hospital Room

The room was warm and buzzing, voices low and awed as the boys took turns peeking into the clear hospital bassinet where Olivia slept peacefully — for now.

“She’s got a whole head of hair already,” Grizzy whispered, peering in like he was inspecting a rare artifact. “Bet she came out with a skincare routine too.”

“She’s literally glowing,” Droid added, crossing his arms. “Like she knows she’s a star.”

Smii7y tilted his head, squinting. “I feel like she’s judging me.”

“She should be,” Blarg chimed in from the corner, cradling a juice box he’d stolen from the nurse’s station. “You said you wouldn’t cry, and you did cry.”

“Those lights are bright,” Smii7y argued, blinking dramatically. “Could’ve been allergies.”

“Sure, man,” Droid muttered, grinning. “Definitely wasn’t your voice crackin’ when she opened her eyes.”

Amid all the noise and teasing, you and Max sat side-by-side, your shoulders touching as he rested a hand gently over your wrist. Olivia had just fallen asleep again after her first bottle, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Then the chaos paused. Not because anyone said anything — but because Chris, hasn’t said anything.

Infact Chris was quiet.

Too quiet.

You all turned to look.

Puffer was standing beside the bassinet, eyes locked on Olivia like the world had narrowed to just that single moment. His bottom lip quivered just slightly, his brows furrowed in a way you’d never seen. He looked… soft. Lost. Reverent.

“Puff?” Max said, cautiously.

Puffer didn’t respond. He reached down instead, arms open, waiting for a nod from you.

You nodded gently. “Go ahead.”

He scooped Olivia up with a kind of care you wouldn’t expect from a guy who raged at Uno. His arms cradled her like instinct — like he’d held a hundred babies, even though you were pretty sure this was his first.

And then she started to fuss. A soft whimper at first, growing louder. Her nose wrinkled, her lip wobbled.

“C’mon, Liv, don’t start—” Puffer whispered.

But then—like magic—she stopped.

Everyone blinked.

Grizzy pointed. “Yo.”

“She stopped crying,” Droid murmured.

“In his arms?” Blarg looked offended.

“Is she broken?” Smii7y asked. “Or is he some kind of baby whisperer?”

“She’s got a favorite already,” Max muttered, mock-offended.

You smiled. “Uncle Puff.”

Chris looked up, and yeah—his eyes were glassy now.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, bro,” he said with a watery laugh. “She’s just… she’s real, man. Like our baby. Like she belongs to all of us.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Then everyone, everyone, started tearing up.

Smii7y was the first to break the silence. “Okay, who gave him the main character arc?”

“You’re just mad she didn’t stop crying for you,” Droid fired back.

“Watch your mouth,” Puffer mumbled, bouncing Olivia gently. “She’s sensitive.”

You leaned into Max, laughing softly through your own tears. He wrapped an arm around you, eyes never leaving the sight of Puffer and Olivia.

“She’s got the weirdest family,” you whispered.

“But the best one,” he replied. “Hands down.”

[renlyslittlerose]

One of the thing I really love about Jedi Survivor and Fallen Order is how the Clone Wars haunts the overall narratives of both games.

In Fallen Order you come across a derelict Venator class ship, long since scrapped for parts and left in total abandonment, and yet it still feels the souls that served on that ship exist - like they're watching you from the walls and through the cracks in the brutal, rusting metal, waiting for you to join them due to a misplaced step. This is further compounded by Cal's psychometry powers, where he literally brings life to the voices of the dead, their last moments echoing off the ribcage of the dead vessel.

And in Survivor, when you're on Koboh, there is the rotting husk of a Separatist Core ship lurking over the landscape, the droids inside reanimated by the Raiders, made to fulfill a different purpose from the ones they were built for. They have no knowledge of the Clone Wars, of the Separatists, of their initial design, yet they move and act and live all the same. How jarring must it be for those who fought in the war to see these droids, still acting on blind coding, yet ignorant to their initial purpose? Yet still just as violent toward you, though never knowing why.

Not to mention, Cal's entire narrative is haunted by the legacy of the Clone Wars. Though the Empire stripped him of the last of who he once was - a boy with purpose, with family, with goals and dreams and desires - it was the Clone Wars that began that process. He grew up in the Jedi Order, which for generations symbolized peace, dignity, and diplomacy in an ever expanding and changing galaxy, and yet by the time of the Clone Wars had been forced to pivot and become something it was never meant to be. Their Padawans, once taught to maintain that order and peace, were now trained for combat. By the time Cal was hunted by the Clones during Order 66, he had already been living in a time of great stress and uncertainty. Normal did not exist for him, at least not as it should.

In Fallen Order, we have to wait for the reveal of that happened to Cal during Order 66, and it hangs over us the entire game. We know it's coming, but we must wait for it, almost as if the narrative is just as reticent - just as scared - to reveal those frightful, final moments of the Clone Wars.

It's that legacy of the Clone Wars that continues to follow Cal, despite his attempts at blocking it all out. It's that legacy that haunts the world. Its in the corpses of an old enemy reanimated and just as volatile, the leviathans that once traversed between the stars now rotting carcasses on the surfaces of planets, the scarred, haunted looks of those who physically survived, but spiritually never recovered.

I think it's brilliant.

[apomaro-mellow]

Built for Loving 1/? Read on AO3

Another one from the steddie fic adopt community:

Eddie lands his dream job at a robotics facility that's best known for its pleasure bots. He doesn't mean to make a bot of his old high school crush but the design gets approved all the same. Problems begin to arise when the customer lodges complaints about the android.

Eddie had always messed with whatever he could get his hands on. When he lived with his parents, it caused trouble and he quickly learned that whatever he took apart, he should know how to put back together. It wasn't until he started living his his uncle as he reached adolescence that this particular quirk was encouraged. The first couple of weeks were awkward.

They loved each other and Eddie trusted his uncle. But a weekend visit was different from "both of my parents went to prison and I have nowhere else to go". But all it took was his Uncle Wayne walking in on him disassembling an amp and then everything fell into place.

Eddie knew his uncle worked with his hands too, but not the specifics. It turned out he was an actual robotics engineer. Wayne downplayed it, saying he just did repairs on defective bots, that he wasn't anyone special, but that sounded like Eddie's dream job. And it was for a while. Eddie was on his best behavior, he went to school and got good grades because he knew these places only hired people with degrees.

College was no picnic, both the classes and paying for it was a test of endurance for Eddie. But he struck gold when he graduated. He never thought he'd be the kind of guy to say he had connections, but Wayne was able to get him an interview. And thanks to the awards from the robotics competitions and glowing recommendation letters from some of his professors, Eddie got the job.

He was about to start living his dream. Although his dream had changed since he was a kid. Eddie had forged a new passion during his late nights, drawing up blueprints and designs. He no longer wanted to simply repair robots. He wanted to design and build his own.

And there was no more prestigious position than that of Android Art Director. Especially for the company at the top of the android business, Brenner Ventures. Everybody wanted a Brenner Bot. They made all kinds, med-droids, nannybots, and tutor trons, but the most popular and most expensive were the entertainment automatons. That was their official moniker from the company. Most people called them pleasure bots.

A plethora of skills could be programmed into them but no one was using their human-like throats for singing. Eddie had never owned one. He'd only seen them from behind the glass of window displays. Even in college, he'd only gotten to see them a handful of times in the lab. Pleasure bots busted beyond repair but broken down to be used as a teaching model. Unlike other kinds of robots, people didn't readily parade them around. They'd be ordered discretely and then kept in the home of the buyer to be used however the customer pleased.

Eddie was no prude, he didn't care what people used to get their rocks off. It was the idea of creating something almost human. As close as they could possibly get. And after about a year on the bottom rung (customer service, repair, automaton editing) he had finally arrived. He got the email inviting him to a Research and Development meeting. He attended, noting how he was the youngest in the room. And then at the end of it, he was given his first real job as an art director.

He was going to design and build his first pleasure bot.

The client had filled out the request form and it was quite simple. White, male, 20s, no taller than 5'10 but no shorter than 5', brown eyes and hair. Eddie could see why he'd been given this task. On paper, it looked rather plain. Fleischer was giddily drawing a bot with an impossible waist while Bird had to figure out how to give one Rapunzel length hair that didn't tangle or mat.

Senior Art Directors got the first pick of client requests and they always went for the challenges. Eddie, as the new meat, got what they considered boring. But Eddie knew it wasn't all about what was on the form. It was what you made of it. He sat at his desk, monitor on and started with the basic build. The face was the most important part to these people, so that's what he started with.

No notes had been given on personality besides "agreeable, submissive" which wasn't much to work on, so Eddie got to imagining. He thought about the type of guy he'd want, which felt like an easy place to start. It took a couple of hours into drawing the face, erasing what didn't feel right just to draw a very similar line anyway, to realize he was drawing Steve Harrington.

Steve hadn't said two words to Eddie in high school and yet he'd been obsessed. A guy who ran through girls like toilet paper and so everyone pegged him as the playboy. But Eddie had spent long enough watching him from afar to read the yearning on his face. Imagine that, someone so beautiful who longed for love and yet never found it? Eddie hadn't seen him in years, made he'd found love by now. Found a nice girl to settle down with perhaps. But who was to know?

Once the thought was in his mind, Eddie couldn't let it go. If he did nothing else in this world, he had to let Steve be loved. Which meant he had to build this bot right. He did what he could at the office but ended up bringing his work home with him. Because it was only there that he had the material he needed.

He had to rifle through some boxes to find it, but there it was - an old notebook from his senior year. The year when his obsession with Steve reached its peak. Inside of it were dozens of sketches of Steve. Not just his face too. Eddie had drawn his profile, his hands holding objects, his legs in those stupid basketball shorts, his torso when they played shirts vs skins.

"God, someone should lock me away for this", he said before getting up from the box and taking the notebook to his computer.

He spent the better part of the night, finishing his design, using his sketches as references. One thing about the usual clientele for pleasure bots was that they were loyal. Once they bought one they liked, they held onto it, insuring it, getting regular repairs, sometimes even traveling with them if they were to be gone for a while.

Eddie would never get to tell the real Steve how he felt. But in his own strange way, he'd be making sure Steve felt that love somehow. Obviously overtime didn't exist in the Brenner Bot employee manual, but Eddie didn't care. This is what his whole life had been leading up to.

"You look like shit Munson. The bland bot givin' you that much trouble?", Fleischer said when he came in the next morning.

"I finished his design last night, actually", Eddie beamed, reveling in how his co-worker's face dropped.

Fleischer quickly picked it up. "Still gotta have it approved. And then the build. You sure you're up for it?"

Eddie shrugged. "If I can't handle a bland bot, then I wasn't meant for this job."

His design was anything but bland. Steve was anything but bland. He was beautiful, gorgeous even. The feelings that had cooled thanks to the separation had burned as bright as ever last night. Eddie sent his design to be checked. He'd played it off in front of others but he didn't know what he'd do if any part of it was critiqued or turned down.

It was checked in house first to make sure it met company standards, then sent off to the client to make sure it was what they wanted. Eddie waited for an excruciating 48 hours before the email came in.

Company Approved: Yes

Client Approved: Yes

Part 2

[starqueensthings]

We need to talk about Echo (and by talk I mean screm). S3 E13 + 14 Spoilers!

FRIENDS, I'M GOING TO EXPLODE. I need to talk about Echo for a minute. We need to talk about Echo for a minute,  because he has spent the last two episodes in the absolute thralls of complete and total danger, and I personally don't feel like there's been enough of a celebratory uproar for me to be satisfied with the level of appreciation and love that man deserves. (Remember when Hunter ran face first into a colossal exhaust pipe and we all collectively lost our minds because it was so impressive and so sexy? Remember when Tech drove a speeder really fast through a tunnel and we all fainted? I'M A TECH GIRLY. IT WAS ME! I FAINTED!!) but, Y'ALL, Echo deserves that right now!! And for all eternity!!! Because he is wholly submurged in the harrowing potential of torture and execution, and he didn't even bat an eye to put himself there. My awe of him is all-consuming, so please forgive me if this rant reads as nothing but incoherent screaming. 

Echo haters (first of all, we can't be friends....) come on this journey with me! Let's back pedal to the beginning of the last episode (13). He stole an imperial shuttle. Let me repeat, he stole an imperial shuttle. And not just an attack shuttle. Not just a lil one-pilot transport. Bro somehow stole a Rho-class medical transport, which is very large, obscenely conspicuous, and very easily tracked. And, to use his own words, it was "the best he could do on short notice." The man stole a shuttle on short notice. ON SHORT NOTICE? HELLO, HOW DID HE DO THAT. WHY AIN'T WE LOSING OUR COOL ABOUT IT. 

Next stop on this I-love-Echo journey through my mind: not only did he provide his brothers transportation in the complete void of their own (RIP havoc bb), but he also came equipped with intel and clearance codes, and, as Rampart stated, those things change DAILY. Echo somehow procured top secret imperial clearance codes, and a fkn SHIP, within hours of the Batch requesting his help. Not to mention, the ship had yet to be reported missing (which means it was only-freshly commandeered), and the clearance codes worked. Of course they did. Echo never fails. Never doubt Echo. "Echo's on it."  

Choochoo, next stop! Once they arrived on that station orbiting Coruscant, and made their way to the control room (lookin sexy as heck in his armour-au-noir), he broke imperial encryption, hacked into the Imperial database, almost instantly found them the location of a ship departing for the prison that holds their daughter Tantiss, AND THEN DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE TO CLIMB ABOARD AND STOW AWAY.  

He didn't even remotely have a plan, or have time to make a plan. He didn't know who or what else would be on board that mysterious vessel. He didn't know where it was going other than the name of the fkn mountain (which has proven to be nothing but unhelpful thus far). He just ARC-troopered his way through that crowded hangar, dodging aggressive astromech's and inconsiderate loader droids, shirking from the perspective eyes of highly trained commandos, and snuck his way onto a heavily guarded, extremely unknown science vessel. Then, of course, he wasted no time, hacking into the ships control system (may I gently remind- there were at least three pilots and an officer prepping the ship for jump and closely watching all aspects of its controls), disabling the proximity sensors without being detected, and then seamlessly covered the troopers absence by pretending to be him (which we all know is what should have happened on Serenno but... hindsight is 20/20.)  

So... SO.... now we're at Episode 14. Here we at fkn terrified station because HULLO ECHO IS ALONE ON A SCIENCE DIVISION TRANSPORT; we have literally seen them carry around Zilo beasts in that shit. What the heck else could be on there that they don't know about? Literally anything. Because THEY KNEW NOTHING before attaching themselves to it. Echo knew NOTHING before sneaking onto that thing and creepin' around. Thank heck he didnt come across a fkn fresh wave of slither vines ok?  

NEXT, Echo shoots (not stuns- lol) a sassy fkn droid (they had it coming, not sorry), then another trooper. AND THEN discovered his only option for departing the ship once it enters atmosphere is going completely undercover, because (in true "we improvise everything" CF99 fashion that gives me heart burn just thinking about it), they had zero fkn plan to get off the ship. I will repeat: completely undercover. On Tantiss. COMPLETELY UNDERCOVER ON TANTISS. NO COMMS, NO BACK UP, NO RECON, NO PLAN, BARELY ANY GEAR, and I would just like to stress... no neuro brace. He left his neurobrace on that ship. Left it. LEFT IT AND TOOK A HAND INSTEAD. PLEASE FKN SEDATE ME.  

We can't leave this station yet... This I-love-Echo train needs to linger at this point for a sec because I think it's lost on some people how wild this is. Echo without his neurobrace is huge. It's a bigger deal than Echo without his armour. Armour is, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential (one can find more- see Howzer). Echo's neurobrace is not armour, it's a computer and it's so so so crucial to how his mind processes information and events. Don't forget, the Technounion HIJACKED HIS BRAIN. They took every memory from him and manipulated it for their gain. Pruned it, tweaked it, blanched it, poached it, turned it into scrambled eggs, and then fkn ate it up and used it to defeat their enemies (Echo's family- I'm sobbing). They implanted him with an unfathomable amount of information; they changed the way the neurons in his brain fire in relation to stimuli. That neurobrace is so so critical for him. Now, we know he can operate well enough without it, we saw it in the last episode of the TBB arc in season 7 of Clone Wars, but... please.... to what extent? We don't know what an extended time without that neurobrace looks like for him... especially when all other aspects compliing his surroundings foreign, unknown, and dangerous, and that scares me.

AND NOW HE'S ABOUT TO RUN AMOK IN TANTISS with Emerie who, (I'm sorry) is wishy-washy as heck (who are you loyal to!!!!! What is your history!!! Are you trustworthy and what are you looking to gain!!!), trying to adopt a collection of Jedi children whove spent maker-knows how long playing space tetris, WHILST ALSO ATTEMPTING TO LOCATE AND ESCAPE WITH HIS BROTHERS UNDER THE EYE OF THE GALAXY'S SECOND MOST DANGEROUS MAN. 

So yes, short of d-d-d-di... can't say it... short of THE WORST CASE, Echo has made the ultimate sacrifice to save not only Omega who is literally the only person we've seen able to make him truly laugh, but all the clone brothers that he's been desperately trying to locate and rescue. His bravery and determination are literally unrivalled, and he did it while feasting on nothing but humble pie because that man wouldn't know arrogance if it danced naked under his perfect nose.  

Okay so welcome, we've finally pulled into I-Love-Echo station. Before departing the ride, please stand and do a hip hip hurray for the miracle that is Echo, including but not limited to, everything he's done, is doing, and is willing to do for other people. 

[webslinger-holland]

Running Bets | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: The Bad Batch likes to make bets during missions, especially when things get really chaotic.

Warning: mentions of death, weapons, and droids being dismembered

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Jedi

Word Count: 3.5k

Type: Oneshot

The Bad Batch were currently away on another one of their missions. They found themselves aboard a modified Providence-Class Separatist Dreadnought which served as General Grievous's main command ship. Their mission was quite simple: infiltrate the naval warship, retrieve a piece of valuable intel, and return it back to the jedi council.

A few years prior, the Kaminoans had specifically requested for the Jedi Council to select and send a Jedi to come work with the rebellious group of clones. They had hoped being under the command of a jedi master would beat them into shape and teach them how to properly follow orders.

However, the Kaminoans didn't know what they had gotten themselves into when General L/n was sent to work with The Bad Batch. She was the only jedi who jumped at the opportunity to lead the group of misfits since nobody else wanted to be assigned to them. She came with her own sense of recklessness that only added to the squads over-the-top plans and inability to follow order the 'right way.'

Now, just a few years later, the five members of the Bad Batch stood in front of a closed corridor on the dreadnought. There was a comfortable silence that settled over them which was only interrupted a few times by Crosshair clicking the scope of his sniper rifle, Wrecker cracking his knuckles in preparation for the fight ahead of them, and Tech tapping away at his data pad. They stared at the closed door right in front of them, growing slightly impatient.

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned while rolling his eyes in annoyance. "What's taking so long?"

"I am trying to crack into the ship's security system. It's a complex system, but once I'm in, I'll be able to access all the doors of the dreadnought and open this one for us," Tech explained to them. He was kneeling beside the data panel beside the door, pressing some buttons in the process.

The only problem was that the rest of them had tuned him out after the word 'security.'

"Why can't I just smash through the doors? It'll be a lot quicker than this," Wrecker argued.

"Because that would give away the element of surprise," Hunter interjected. "Nobody knows we're here."

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," General L/n added.

"Just hurry up, will you?" Wrecker groaned. "I'm dying to crush some droids."

"I've...almost...got...it," Tech said rather slowly while pressing buttons on the panel quickly.

The screen became illuminated with a shade of green, which shown in the reflection of his goggles adorned on his face. He was now granted access to the entire ship's security system via his data pad. He stood back up to join his brothers. He pressed a few buttons on his data pad to open the large sealed blast door in front of them.

"Eyes up. We don't know what we're up against on the other side of this," Hunter told the rest of the group. They waited for the door to open for them. He drew his own two blasters out of the holsters, keeping them ready for a fight.

The other members of the group seemed to follow his actions by readying their own weapons. The general, who stood in the front and center of the group, decided to pull her own two lightsabers from her belt. Her thumbs lingering over the button in preparation for activation. Her eyes trained on the sealed door in front of her, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Care to wager a bet, boys?" She hoped it would put the rest of them at ease.

"Don't we always?" Crosshair inquired with a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Loser has to clean the ship including the refresher," Y/n smirked to herself. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wrecker's gaze.

"That's not that bad of a punishment," Wrecker scoffed while his shoulders slumped in slight disappointment.

"Have you seen the ship recently? Can't even see the floor," Hunter interjected.

"It has gotten pretty bad," Tech agreed. Oddly enough, Tech was easily one of the messiest ones because of all the little projects he left lying around. One could trip over all the cords and wires on the ground.

"Fine," Wrecker groaned more to himself. "Loser cleans the ship."

"Including the refresher," Y/n quickly added, not wanting him to miss out that little detail because she had every intention of making sure he lost today.

"Including the refresher," Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Tech." The General was prepared for the fight ahead of them, keeping a firm grip on the two lightsabers in her grasp. She readjusted her stance and lifted her lightsabers up in a defensive manner.

Finally, as if on cue, Tech pressed a single button on his data pad which activated the blast doors in front of them. The doors began opening slowly from the center, retracting back into the walls and revealing the vast hallway corridor in front of them.

What the Bad Batch hadn't expected was to find the corridor completely packed with the traditional B-1 battle droids. There had to have been fifty or sixty of them standing around with blasters in hand. Their long yellow heads seemed to turn towards the source of the noise all simultaneously.

"A jedi?" One of the closer droids exclaimed in slight surprise. He pointed towards the group to signal the others. "Blast them!"

Before the droids even had a chance to start firing, General L/n had activated her two yellow lightsabers and charged straight towards the company of clankers. She dodged each of their shots, moving swiftly from left to right. Once she got close enough to them, she swiftly swung her lightsaber to slice through the base of their blasters, rendering them useless.

Behind her, the rest of them started firing their own shots and taking out droids while making their way down the corridor. Each of them showcasing their own unique style of fighting. While Crosshair usually lingered behind the group to take his precise shots, Wrecker always charged head on and fired wildly at anything in sight. There was Hunter who liked switching between blasters and blades, but often kept to his knifes as a preference. In contrast, Tech always carried two blasters and fired calculated shots.

Despite all their differences, the Bad Batch successfully worked together as a team. The General also had a different strategy. She always rushed head on; though it wasn't because she was eager for the fight, but more so because she wanted to protect the others if she could. Her two lightsabers acted as their only defense in many situations. And they trusted her enough to cover them.

Taking more droids down, Tech quickly maneuvered his way through a clear and open path until he stood in front of the next closed door. His twin joined his side and covered his back so he could have the time to open the next door without getting shot. However, when Tech pressed the button on his data pad, the doors in front of him didn't open and his data pad flashed red.

"Uh oh," Tech said to himself.

"Uh oh?" Hunter repeated. He grabbed the blade of his knife before throwing it across the room, sticking directly into a battle droid's head. "What does 'uh oh' mean, Tech?" Hunter demanded an answer.

"This door isn't opening," Tech explained shortly. He kept pressing buttons on his data pad in hopes that it would open if he tried a different combination.

"I thought --" Y/n grunted as she sliced through another droid. "You said you overroad the ship's security system and that you'd have full access to all doors."

"I did," Tech replied with a strong sense of frustration in his voice.

Pressing one final button, the door opened ever so slightly but then closed again. There had to be someone on the other side, operating the system to keep it closed from them.

"Someone is intentionally trying to keep this door closed and keep us out," Tech announced to the rest of them. His eyes scanned the vast space of the door, thinking about how he could get through.

"Well, get it open." Y/n replied.

Kneeling down beside the door, Tech got to work by prying the metal panel away from the wall. His skillful fingers threaded through the various colorful wires, searching for a cord to connect to his data pad. He called out to the others, saying he was gonna need a minute to break through.

As Tech worked steadily, Crosshair stood right beside him and fired strategically from his sniper's rifle. He took out droids who even turned in their general direction, not wanting them to get remotely close to them.

Just as the group of battle droids was beginning to thin, the doors on the left and right side of them opened to reveal more. The droids marched right into the fight, acting as the reinforcements to protect whatever was locked behind the main door. They fired relentlessly which was starting to put a strain on the group.

At some point, Wrecker had abandoned his rapid firing blaster and decided to just rip droids apart. It wasn't that hard of a task since they were made of a relatively cheap metal. He'd simply grab a droid, tear the limps off, and toss the remaining parts to the side. He threw one of the droid's bodies into the crowd coming into the corridor, which ended up knocking some of them down.

"I've got ten already!" Wrecker announced over the loud blaster fire echoing in the room. He smiled proudly to himself as he tore the arms off another droid.

"I'm on seventeen," Y/n called back. She could have sworn she heard the sergeant chuckled behind his helmet.

"Wha--" Wrecker was at a loss for words. He retrieved his blaster once again, firing rapidly in hopes of taking down more droids than his companion.

As she sliced through two more droids, Y/n turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She wore an amused smile on her face when she announced: "Nineteen!"

"You're falling behind, Wrecker." Crosshair taunted from the sidelines. He went to adjust his scope before pulling the trigger a few more times, watching the droids fall from behind it.

"Yeah? How many are you on?" Wrecker asked snakily.

"Don't worry about it."

In the center of the room, Hunter had pulled his vibroblade out of the sheath on his forearm. He jabbed the knife into the backs of droids, sendings jolts of electricity through them and taking their main computing systems out. He worked through the growing crowd of clankers, moving between them smoothly in a way that managed to dodge their firepower.

Upon turning, Hunter spotted a couple of them pointing their blasters directly at him. He dropped down to the floor just as they began firing, getting out of the way just in the knick of time. He summersaulted towards them, swiping his leg out to take out their legs from underneath them. The three droids fell to the floor. He plunged his knife into their heads before they had a chance to regain composure.

"How's that door coming, Tech?" Hunter inquired.

Now Tech was working steadily at cracking the system's code. He just needed a little bit more time, which he was certain his brothers could grant him. At first, Tech didn't respond to Hunter's question. All of the sudden, a battle droid had come to approach him and stood directly beside him.

"Halt," the droid ordered him.

Without looking up, Tech pulled one of his blasters out of his holster. He raised it quickly and fired a single shot, which managed to lodge itself directly into the droid's head. He pocketed his blaster again as the droid collapsed right beside him and went right back to work on the door.

"Just a few more adjustments," Tech replied to the others. He clicked a few more buttons on his data pad, but nothing that effected their current situation. They were still stuck in the corridor and more droids were filtering in by the second.

"You're taking a long time. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wrecker called out. He grabbed another droid, raising it above his head and sending it hurdling down the corridor to take out another company of them.

"I am the smart one," Tech reassured them with a hint of bluntness in his voice. He did not look the slightest bit amused by Wrecker's comment.

"Heads up," Hunter announced.

He took out an electro magnet pulse grenade, pressed the button on the side to activate it and threw it into a crowd of droids coming into the corridor. The grenade landed at the feet of the droids before random bursts of electricity and energy surged from it. The droids' bodies shook from the electricity, shutting them down.

Despite their efforts, more droids just kept coming after them. It seemed like it was a never ending steady flow of them. When one droid went down, another two would come into the corridor to replace them. The amount of dead droids littering the ground with becoming overwhelming.

At some point, Hunter was firing shots towards droids coming from the left and Y/n was deflecting blasts coming from droids on the right side. They met in the center of the room; their backs pressing together. The two of them moved in a synchronized harmony, trusting that the other was able to cover their backs and silently communicating with their timed movements.

Tapping into the force. Y/n raised her two lightsabers over her head and forced them to form an 'x' shape directly in front of Hunter's helmet. This movement deflected a single blaster shot that was intended to strike the sergeant in the head. If it hadn't been for her senses and his stillness in that movement, Hunter would've taken the shot to the head. But that wasn't gonna happen on her watch.

"Thanks," Hunter peered over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved it off.

With their backs pressed together, Hunter and Y/n continued to work together to take down the droids coming at them. The two of them moved with ultimate precision that they dominated the field. They'd never danced like this before.

At this point, Wrecker and Crosshair had stopped firing their own shots just to watch the others in action. The immediate threat was gone now as the number of droids firing at them had dwindled drastically.

Spotting the last four droids coming towards them in a line, Y/n took a single step away from her partner. She twisted her body to launch her lightsaber down the hallway, watching the yellow blade circle rapidly towards them. The lightsaber effortlessly sliced through the droids heads and they clattered to the ground. Before the lightsaber made contact with the wall, Y/n summoned it back into her hand and switched it off. She pocketed them both onto her belt.

The four members of the squad met in the center of the room while the other continued working on the connecting wires to his data pad. They briefly glanced at the mass amounts of unmoving droids by their feet, kicking a few limbs out of the way. At last, Wrecker flopped down on a small pile of droids. He looked at each of them with a strong sense of anticipation.

"Final count," Crosshair began. He adjusted the scope on his rifle for long range. He smirked to himself at the mere thought of winning the contest. "Thirty-three."

"Thirty-three," Wrecker repeated calmly. He nodded his head understandingly. "That's not bad for the squad's resident sniper."

Upon hearing this, Crosshair glanced up at him with eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He halted his movements, studying the way his brother looked so pleased with himself.

"I, myself am sitting on thirty-four," Wrecker smirked to himself.

Before Wrecker could revel the fact that he outscored his younger brother in a battle, a single blaster bolt struck the droid he was sitting beneath right in between his legs. He glanced down at the sizzling strike.

"Thirty-four," Crosshair smirked to himself. He lowered his rifle once again.

"He was already dead," Wrecker argued.

"I saw him twitching," Crosshair suggested. He shrugged his shoulders at the notion. But Wrecker only became more enraged by this.

"He was twitching because I removed all of his limbs!" Wrecker shouted. Sure enough, the droid was still twitching slightly beneath him since the main operating system located in the head went undamaged in the fight.

"Are you two done yet?" Y/n wondered. She glanced between the two of them. "My final count was forty-eight."

"That's not fair," Wrecker groaned. "You had a head start."

"I always have a head start," Y/n recalled all of their missions together where she went charging head on to defend the others. "This wasn't any different than all the other times."

"Sergeant?" Crosshair questioned with a crocked eyebrow. The sergeant stood with his arms crossed against his chest; an amused look settling over his face.

"Fifty," Hunter announced.

The rest of them only groaned in utter annoyance. This was certainly not the first time the sergeant managed to outperform them and it wasn't going to be the last time. He claimed his victory silently, relishing the looks of disappointment on their faces.

"Looks like Wrecker and Crosshair will be cleaning the ship since they tied," Hunter told them.

"No," Wrecker went to argue. He rose to his feet. "Tech has to do it. He only got like four kills."

"Tech was a little occupied with other things. Like working on the door," Hunter told him. He glanced over his shoulder to find him still tinkering away at the data pad near the door.

"Then it should be Crosshair," Wrecker pointed to him. "That last one shouldn't count."

"Wrecker," Y/n called in a warning tone. "You both lost. Admit it."

"Fine," Wrecker huffed to himself. His shoulders slumping down at his sides. "I'll clean the ship," Wrecker added.

"And the refresher," Hunter recalled. She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes with nothing but admiration behind them.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that too," Wrecker agreed to the terms.

Just then, Tech clicked the last button on his data pad to activate the door in front of him. His data pad glowed green, which meant the system had been overrun thanks to his expertise. The rest of them turned to direct their attention to the opening door, seeing the vast array of data forms in the control center.

Slowly, the Bad Batch came to approach the opening to the control center. Their eyes scanned over the various glowing white tubes attached to one central column in the room. Whatever they had come for, they were sure to find somewhere in there. Now they just needed their resident 'smart one' to locate the intel they'd come for.

"Nice work, Tech." Hunter spoke. "Let's locate the intel and get out of here as quick as we can."

All of the sudden, Y/n was able to feel a slight disturbance in the force. A dark wicked figure had graced their presence directly behind them. The sound of metallic claws for feet ground against the floor in approach. The presence was an all-too familiar one to go unnoticed or unrecognized.

The Jedi General had encountered this imposing figure one other time in her life, which was when he brutally murdered her master in combat. Ever since then, Y/n had grown to fear him and never wanted to face him. But now here he was standing behind them and blocking their only exit.

His cybernetic enhancements gave him exceptional strength, speed and reflexes to outmaneuver force-users. He wielded four lightsabers (one for each mechanical arm) and often overwhelmed the jedi with them. His most intimidating feature was his height alone, standing at nearly seven feet tall and towering over most of his encounters.

"General Y/n," the mysterious voice announced from behind them.

The other members of the squad quickly spun around on the heels of their feet, raising their blasters directly towards the menacing figure on the other end of the hallway. They moved to stand in front of their own general in hopes of protecting her.

"It's been a long time since our last encounter."

Now, coming to the realization that she could no longer run from her past, Y/n found herself turning around to face her demons. Her eyes landed on the familiar figure who had slaughtered her master, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

It was almost like he could sense her fear of him despite not being a force sensitive being. He cackled to himself, which was something else that still haunted her too. She could still hear the way he laughed over her master's dead body. She went to retrieve her lightsabers from her belt, feeling the strong sense of anger overtaking her senses.

Because today would be the day she took down General Grievous.