#dad batch

[zaana]

Upgrading from the bow

[yatzstar]

I'll Do Better

Crosshair is the last to warm up to the tiny infant girl rescued from Nala Se's laboratory, but even he could not help but love her.

-

For @star-farer's Ik'aad (name under construction) AU! Omega is very smol in this one, and I gave her some premature baby qualities (based on myself).

“This is insane, even for us,” Crosshair growled. “I don’t want any part of it.”

“You can’t say that!” Wrecker cried indignantly.

“Yes, I can,” Crosshair insisted, meeting his angry glare. “This shouldn’t be a situation in the first place.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Hunter spoke up for the first time since the argument began. “Just leave her to die?”

Crosshair stared at the tiny child laid out on the table, limbs barely moving in protest as Tech worked to deliver nutrients intravenously. He hadn’t known it was possible for humans to be so small, let alone clones, regardless of the fact that she was a she. Tiny sounds filtered into the air, attempts at crying from lungs struggling to breathe, and he could not imagine a child so weak could survive. As much as he detested Nala Se’s decommissioning of the child, his brothers were only bringing pain on themselves by becoming so heavily involved with this child Hunter had practically stolen from her laboratory.

“I don’t know what you should have done,” he muttered, “but this isn’t what we’re meant to be doing.”

“We are experimental units, and so is she.” Tech cupped the child’s head to keep her still, his palm nearly engulfing the entirety of it. “It would be wrong to leave one of our own.”

Her hands and feet were so small, her eyes just barely able to open. Veins protruded beneath her skin where what little fat she had could not cover them. She was too small, and the sight of her set an uncomfortable weight on Crosshair’s heart.

“Do what you want,” he finally said, turning away, “but don’t expect me to get involved.”

And yet, despite his expectations, the child lived. He did not visit her in Nala Se’s laboratory, but he heard about her progress from his brothers, how she was growing stronger with each passing day. They called her Omega, taken from her batch designation, and the next thing he knew, she came to stay semi-permanently in their barracks.

It was then Crosshair came to realize that stronger also meant louder. When Omega needed something, she made it known to everybody, and the noise wore on his already dwindling patience. The only way anyone got any sleep was with ear protectors taken from the shooting range, and he continued arguing with his brothers about their new charge, even threatening to move to the reg barracks.

With the massive distraction the child provided, he feared they would lose their squad’s nearly perfect success rate, and that was something his brothers no longer prioritized as much as he did. That was even worse than the kid herself in his mind, and that shift led to several confrontations that teetered on the edge of a fistfight. He kept as much distance as possible between him and the kid out of principal, but if it was one thing he could count on his brothers to do, it was breaking through every barrier he tried to put up.

“Crosshair, I need your help.”

One glance was enough to make Crosshair bristle instinctively as Hunter approached him, carrying the small, squirming bundle of Omega against his shoulder. So far, he had not been asked to help with the child after making his opinion clear, but he had a sinking feeling that was about to change. Even Hunter’s tattoo could not hide the sleep-deprived weariness on his face.

“What do you want?” Crosshair growled.

“I have a strategic assessment soon, but someone needs to watch her.” If Hunter noticed the tiny hand grabbing at his hair, he did not react. “All you need to do is get her to go back to sleep. Wrecker should be back within an hour.”

“I’m busy.” It was a lie, and a weak one at best, but Crosshair tried it anyway.

“Don’t give me that.” Hunter’s gaze sharpened, the glaze of fatigue replaced by fraternal irritation. “You don’t have anything until later, and there’s plenty of time.”

Motivated by spite, Crosshair asked, “Why don’t you just leave her with Nala Se again?”

A shadow passed over Hunter’s face, and he cradled Omega’s head as if he wanted to shield her from the mere idea. “We want to avoid that if we can. Nala Se takes the opportunity to perform…procedures on her.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Crosshair could not help but feel sympathy. He knew what that was like, which was deeply unpleasant at best, and he disdained Nala Se even more for the fact that she would so callously experiment on the child.

“I don’t know what to do with her,” he said, speaking out of honesty rather than an attempt to avoid it. The next thing he knew, Hunter handed Omega over, settling her gently in his arms. She suddenly seemed even more small and frail, her weight barely existent against him.

“Support her head and torso,” Hunter instructed, “and make sure you have a good hold on her.”

Crosshair awkwardly did as he said, trying not to look at the little face beneath him. Handling guns was a delicate process he had practiced to perfection, but somehow holding Omega made that seem simple by comparison. “…What do I do now?”

“Just hold her until she falls asleep, then put her in bed. She’s already fed and clean, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Crosshair eyed Hunter skeptically. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Crosshair sighed, trying not to feel the tiny fingers prodding lightly at his chest. “Alright, fine, but you had better pass that assessment.”

Hunter smiled, but there was no teasing towards his acceptance, only sincere relief. “Thank you, brother. I owe you one.”

“Careful,” Crosshair muttered. “Depending on how this goes, I might actually take you up on that.”

Within a matter of minutes, Hunter had gathered his equipment and departed from the barracks, leaving Crosshair alone with his unexpected charge. He finally made himself look at Omega, bracing for tears now that Hunter was gone, but none came. She merely stared, sucking contentedly on her fingers. Her face had gotten rounder as she gained weight, no longer so alarmingly bony, and he was struck by how large her eyes were. They were brown, containing nothing but wondering innocence as she looked at him.

“Just make my life easier and go back to sleep,” he grunted, keeping his voice low. The sooner she slept, the sooner he could forget this had ever happened.

Omega was clearly of a different mind, because she didn’t fall asleep immediately. Several minutes passed, but she remained awake, docile with an occasional bout of squirming. When it became clear that she would not oblige him with quick slumber, Crosshair tried to remember the methods of soothing he had seen his brothers use.

With a sigh, he stood up, carefully repositioning Omega so she was resting upright against his shoulder. She made a small noise but did not protest beyond that as he fixed the loose ends of the blanket, beginning to walk a slow circuit around the room. Little fingers flexed against his shoulder, and on some impulse he took hold of one hand, raising it to inspect it. The soft skin below her knuckles was blemished by scars from needles and intravenous lines, still red in their newness. Some of them were from Tech’s procedures, but not all of them. He didn’t want to think about what other scars she might have, or from what.

Omega curled her fingers around one of his, and he pulled back instinctively, eliciting an unhappy whimper from her. He quickly returned the finger, his heartbeat spiking at the potential of having to deal with a crying child. “Relax. I was just surprised.”

Omega took Crosshair’s finger again and settled down, resting her head on his shoulder. He chanced a look at her, and was struck by the innocent tranquility of her expression. It seemed that she was perfectly at ease with him, like everything was right in her little world. He never thought it was possible that someone could be so peaceful in a life spent training for war, much less because of him, and the fact that someone so small and fragile as she was left him amazed.

Suddenly, Crosshair’s earlier remarks to Hunter were made bitter with regret. Handing Omega off to Nala Se would surely disrupt her simple peace, and she had already been through enough by simply fighting to stay alive. Nala Se would not care about the child’s comfort; she was still an experiment, who had initially been left to die. It was disquieting to consider what she had been made for, since the major difference of being female provided no tactical advantage in war that he could see, but he tried not to think about it as he walked in slow, measured steps around the barracks.

Omega clung stubbornly to wakefulness, and as Crosshair began to lose count of how many laps he had made, he decided to try something different. He took her to the window where she could look out at the rainy Kaminoan day, and he felt a sense of accomplishment when she let go of his finger, turning wide, wondering eyes on the glittering raindrops.

“You’re not so bad when you’re calm,” Crosshair murmured, keeping his voice just barely louder than the rain. “Like Wrecker after a few strength assessments.”

Omega shifted a little, but did not seem disturbed by his words, and he surprised himself by continuing to talk.

“I guess you’re better off here. My brothers have kept you alive when that longneck couldn’t be bothered.”  A pang of guilt hit Crosshair. “Or me.”

Omega continued to watch the rainfall, oblivious to his musings. She leaned against him with no trace of unease, like he had spent time alongside his brothers, tending to her day and night though he had never even held her before.

“I’ll do better than I have,” he decided, a quiet promise only for her to hear. “I guess you are one of us, in a way. I’ve never seen another clone like you, and you don’t deserve to be tossed aside.”

A slight pressure on Crosshair’s shoulder made him glance down. Omega was finally giving in to sleep, her eyes shut, and the sight ignited something in his chest, a fierce desire that her peace should remain undisturbed by those who saw her as a faulty experiment. He began to understand what had gripped his brothers so tightly, because it was slowly taking him too, wrapped in round cheeks, tiny limbs, and wisps of pale hair.

Wrecker crept into the barracks, paying close attention to each movement he made, expecting that Omega would be asleep. However, he did not expect Crosshair to be with her, reclined on his bunk with the girl splayed on his chest. The sight made him stop in his tracks as a smile slowly overtook his shocked expression. He had figured it would only be a matter of time until Crosshair gave in, and he wished Tech had returned to document it.

After taking in the surprising scene, Wrecker eased forward, intending on relieving Crosshair, but as he got close the sniper opened his eyes.

“Leave her until she wakes up,” he muttered. “Not worth disturbing her.”

Wrecker grinned, which Crosshair met with a scowl, shutting his eyes again and adjusting himself with utmost care. That did not dissuade Wrecker, who continued to smile even as he went about his business. He had hoped Crosshair would eventually understand, and seeing them together was worth the wait.

[toastyrobos]

Dad Hunter is something we didn’t know we needed, but now that we have it, we will always treasure this beautiful and precious thing����

[lavender-jedi]

The Dad Bad Batch as dad lines they've absolutely said

Hunter- *runs into Cut at SpaceMart* "I guess they'll let anyone in here!"

Tech- *snaps bungee cord* "Oh yeah, that's not going anywhere!"

Echo- "Omega, turn off the car light, that's illegal. Don't make me turn the Marauder around!"

Wrecker- "Let's blow this popsicle stand!"

Crosshair- "Hi hungry, I'm Cross."

[queenofspades6]

I need more seasons of The Bad Batch! I can’t believe this amazing series is almost over… what am I supposed to do after? Just live my life like nothing had happened? These characters are part of me, and I don’t want their story to end.

What do you think?

[paperback-rascal]

Some time ago I drew a short comics about instead being trapped in cryofreezer for decades, Kix was found by Clone Force 99 -> [LINK] <-. Now imagine him settling in as a mother henmedic of the Havoc Marauder crew.

---

see more Kix the CF99′s medic posts here -> [LINK] <-

===

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars/The Bad Batch © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

[saltyseaturtle]

Loving Dad sends his kid off to college 😭

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Okay, I want to know HOW Omega, the preteen/teenage girl who spent all her time with her 4 dads/brothers (if not hanging around a Trandoshan, a Weequay, and an Ithorian), managed to end up with SUCH a cute and stylish haircut between seasons 1 and 2.

Because let's be real, Clone Force 99 never went to a hairdresser/barber for the duration of the Clone Wars (who has time for that?) and they don't bother to do so now. Hunter knows how to cut a straight line and that's good enough for him. Echo vaguely remembers how to do a regulation haircut but obviously doesn't have the right hairdressing tools now. Tech's hair grows maybe one millimeter per year, so... And then there's Wrecker.

I'm just picturing Hunter noticing Omega constantly brushing her overlong bangs out of her eyes (she insists it's fine because she doesn't want to cause a fuss but Hunter knows better). A bandana doesn't work as well for Omega's oddly grown out uneven layers as it does for Hunter. Good luck with any of those brothers figuring out how to help Omega with a ponytail or a braid (Omega certainly doesn't know how, Nala Se always made sure her hair stayed short).

Tech finally suggests the barbershop he knows is located two blocks away from Cid's (Echo rolls his eyes that Tech didn't bring this up four hours ago, before they all had started trying to figure out what a ponytail even is). The barber has some suggestions but has to spend over two hours getting Hunter, Echo, and Tech to agree to a style (Tech is primarily concerned about Omega having a haircut that strikes a balance between functionality and chic [look at that man's style in season 2 and try to tell me he isn't the most fashion-conscious of the bunch]; Hunter wants to be able to help Omega with upkeep so he wants a lesson on how to cut her hair; Echo is dead set against a long hair style because he already tried braiding hair with one hand + his teeth and it didn't go well). After an hour, Wrecker jokes with Omega that she should just go bald. Omega just shakes her head and shrugs; all she wants is to keep her bangs out of her eyes without using Tech's hair gel.

[happyecho]

Pabu activities

[mantellmix]

Hunter empty nester 🥹

"Hunter protests at first, but eventually commits what could be his most heroic act ever: he lets her go."

- Bad Batch Declassified: 5 Highlights from “The Cavalry Has Arrived”

[crazyfangirl0113]

Ventress: Saying that the BB is overprotective.

The overprotective shadows: Watching from afar and ready to intervene if they have the slightest suspicion that their girl is in danger.

[yatzstar]

Passing These Quiet Hours

The Batch find ways to pass long transits with a child in tow!

Another entry for the Ik’aad AU by @star-farer. Made for May on May the Fourth :)

Omega sat just beyond the Marauder’s ramp, using a stick to doodle in the dirt, albeit grumpily. They were going back to Kamino much sooner than she would have liked, and the long hours of transit were often boring. She had already made her displeasure known, which had been met with stern insistence that complaining would not change the fact that they were going back. Now she sulked, dragging her stick through the dirt to vent her unhappiness.

“Omega…”

Try as she might to be grumpy, Omega could not ignore the call. She turned a curious gaze on Wrecker as he approached her.

“I have a job for you,” Wrecker said, crouching to her level. “Wanna help me?”

Omega paused her activity, her discontentment pushed to the back of her mind. “Yeah!”

“See those flowers?” Wrecker pointed to a nearby patch of blossoms in the grass. “I need you to find the best one for each of us.”

“‘Kay!” Omega scrambled to her feet, eager to be of help.

“You gotta be fast!” Wrecker called after her. “We’re leaving soon!”

“I will!” Omega promised, running over to the flower patch. Blossoms sprouted in all shapes and sizes, filling the air with a sweet smell and giving her a large variety to consider as she perused them seriously.

She found one for Hunter first, an oblong bloom with lots of tiny petals in a shade of red that matched his bandana. Selecting the flower she thought was the prettiest, she ran back toward the Marauder, shouting, “Hun’er!”

As always, Hunter appeared quickly, stepping out onto the Marauder’s ramp. “Yeah, kiddo?”

Omega ran up to him, holding out the flower. “Lookit! For you!”

“Thank you.” Hunter took the offered bloom. “It’s very nice.”

“It’s red like your banana!” Omega proclaimed.

Hunter huffed a laugh. “It’s ‘bandana’.”

Omega barely heard him, scampering off to the flower patch again. “Gotta find ‘nother one!”

The next one she found was suitable for Crosshair. It was smaller than Hunter’s with large petals colored silver-white, the same color Crosshair’s eyes reflected when the light hit them right, and she sprinted to the Marauder with it. “C’oss!”

Crosshair was in the cabin, crouched over a crate full of things she wasn’t allowed to touch, and he turned slightly when she bounded in. “What?”

Omega shoved the flower in his face. “This one’s yours!” As soon as Crosshair took the gift, she wheeled around to go find the next one, but her impending takeoff was halted by an arm wrapping around her middle. “‘Ey, leggo!”

Crosshair only pulled her closer. “Not until you tell me why you gave this to me.”

Omega craned her neck to look at him. “‘Cause it looks like your eyes, silly, now leggo!”

Crosshair smirked back. “Maybe I won’t let you go. Maybe you have to stay here with me.”

“Nooo!” Omega complained. “I hafta go!”

“Now what could possibly be so important?” Crosshair asked, resting his chin on her head.

“Gotta find more f’owers!” Omega’s protests were interspersed with giggles as she tried to escape, Crosshair’s slight stubble brushing against her face. “For Wricker an’ Tick before we leave!”

Crosshair heaved a sigh. “If you insist…”

Omega broke free from his hold when he loosened it, and she turned and stuck her tongue out at him, dashing away in a fit of laughter at his indignant expression.

“You’re lucky I’m busy, womp rat!” he called after her.

Omega discovered Tech and Wrecker’s flowers together. For Tech’s, she found a bloom he had pointed out to her the day before with six small white petals. Wrecker’s was a large, bright blue cup-shaped flower, with a stem so long that it almost seemed as tall as he was from her perspective. She made her third run back to the ship, this time circling around the outside to the place where she knew Tech was working.

“Tick!” she yelled breathlessly. “Lookit what I got!”

Tech paused his work, putting out a hand to steady her when she came to an uneven stop beside him. “What do you have?”

Omega offered him the flower. “For you, I ‘membered it.”

“I see, well done.” Tech accepted the gift, and Omega beamed at his praise. “Do you remember what it is called?”

“Umm…” Omega paused, staring at the flower until the name came to her. “It’s’a ���tarflower!”

“A starflower, yes,” Tech said, easily parsing her mispronunciation with an amused smile. “Thank you, sweet one. You’re developing quite a memory.”

Omega held up her other find. “What’s this?”

Tech studied the flower briefly. “I believe that is a blue windstalk.”

Pleased with that information, Omega ran to make her last delivery, accosting Wrecker in the cabin. “Wricker, I got a b’ue winds’alk!”

“That was fast!” Wrecker laughed, taking the flower. “Did you already get one for everyone else?”

“Yeah!” Omega said, though her enthusiasm was slightly diminished by the effort of running around.

“Good job! You make us look slow.” Wrecker ruffled her hair. “Maybe you should get some more.”

Omega leaned against his leg. “But m’tired now.”

“Maybe it’s time for a nap, then.”

Omega straightened, trying to hide any trace of weariness. “I don’t need’a nap!”

Wrecker raised an eyebrow. “But you just said you were tired.”

“Not that tired.” Omega turned and marched down the ramp with every intention of proving her claim, resuming the doodles she had been making before her errand. She held out as long as she could, until the pull of soft, sun-warmed grass became too much to resist, flopping onto her back.

“If you’re not tired, then what are you doing?” Crosshair asked from the direction of the Marauder.

Omega frowned at the pale sky above her, still vehemently opposed to a nap. “I’m resting.”

She got a strangled noise between a laugh and a scoff from Crosshair, undercut by Wrecker’s outright laughter. “Oh, yes, clearly.”

They did not push the argument further, leaving Omega to her own devices. It wasn’t long before the peaceful afternoon began working its magic, the sun’s warmth and the softness of the grass coupled with Omega’s physical exertion pulling her into a drowsy state. She fought to keep her eyes open, but her eyelids were getting steadily heavier…

“Alright, you. Let’s get you into a real bed.”

Omega stirred briefly as she was lifted gently to rest against a strong shoulder, her mind subconsciously recognizing Wrecker.

“How long did it take?” Hunter asked from somewhere farther away.

“No more than half a standard hour.” Omega’s head rumbled with Wrecker’s quieted reply. “Told you it would work.”

“Wha’ worked?” Omega mumbled.

“Nothing, kid,” Wrecker said. “Just go on back to sleep.”

Omega was placed in a soft pile of bedding she knew instantly was her own. She instinctively reached out for Lula, and the plush toy found its way into her arms. Wrecker pressed a slightly bristly kiss to her forehead, and she pressed her face into Lula’s softness, surrendering to sleep.

Omega woke up in her dim corner of the ship, wrapped in blankets and Lula in her arms. She stirred slightly, stretching herself and almost feeling tempted to stay in the comfortable coziness of her bed, but low voices caught her attention. Towards the front of the cabin, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair all sat around the upside-down crate that had been designated as a table.

“Don’t look now boys,” Hunter said without turning around. He never had to look to know when she woke up. “We’ve got incoming.”

Omega slowly burrowed her way out of her blankets, drowsy but eager to be closer to the four affectionate gazes that settled on her.

“If it isn’t little miss ‘I’m not tired’ returned from over an hour’s sleep,” Crosshair teased.

Omega was too groggy to bother replying as she padded across the cabin, slumping against the nearest body, who was Hunter. “Are we in space now?”

“Yes, sunshine. We’ve been traveling for a while,” Hunter said, wrapping an arm around her.

Omega leaned into his hold and pouted, not only because they were going back to Kamino, but because she had slept through takeoff, which was her favorite part of flying.

“We’re going to get our next missions done as quickly as possible,” Hunter promised. “You won’t have to wait long.”

“Yeah, and your flowers will make us go faster!” Wrecker said. He pointed to the cabin’s console, where her flowers had been carefully arranged together in an empty canister on the top.

“Really?” Omega gasped.

“Of course.”

Omega’s happiness was short-lived when she lamented, “I should’a picked all of ‘em.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Tech reminded her. “Taking one is more than enough. We don’t want to be wasteful.”

Omega sighed, tilting her head back to look at Hunter. “‘Ow much longer?”

“About three hours or so,” Hunter said.

Omega fell against him in despair. Leaving Kamino always felt much shorter. “But that’s forever!”

Hunter ran a hand over her hair. “Well, I might have an idea of something fun to do.”

“What?”

“We could make you a fort out of pillows and blankets.”

Omega stared at him, increasingly interested but confused by the idea. “‘Ow?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll show you!” Wrecker stood up with a grin. “We used to do this all the time!”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything,” Tech agreed, “so long as it doesn’t take up too much space.”

Now fully invested, Omega followed along eagerly. All of them moved to begin the project except for Crosshair, and it did not take long for Omega to notice his lack of participation.

“C’oss!” she shouted as she yanked at the pillows Hunter directed her to retrieve. “You gotta help!”

“No, I don’t,” Crosshair huffed. “The four of you are already getting in each other’s way, and I’m not a cadet anymore.”

“But I wan’ you to help!” Omega insisted.

“Why?”

“‘Cause…’cause I wan’ you to.” Omega paused, trying to think of something to convince him. “P’ease?”

“Oh, now you can’t refuse,” Wrecker said.

Crosshair withstood Omega’s beseeching gaze for a few seconds, then he caved with a roll of his eyes. “Okay, fine, you little monster.”

Omega’s excited cheer was followed by Tech’s dry observation, “I seem to recall you spending a large amount of time in the constructions we used to make, to the point that we had to fight you for space.”

Crosshair grabbed the pillow from his bunk, brandishing it threateningly. “I hope you also remember me winning those fights.”

Hunter snorted. “Now that’s debatable.”

Omega laughed at Crosshair’s expression, only to hide behind Tech’s legs when he aimed a look at her.

The construction of the proposed fort got underway, and Omega enjoyed herself immensely. She made herself a nest of pillows, entertained all the while by the squabbling between the four men as they worked on setting up blankets to act as the “walls” and “roof” of the fort. The result was a lopsided little structure contained between the console and the nearest bunk, big enough for Omega to sit in comfortably.

“What do you think?” Wrecker asked as he finished securing one of the blankets.

“I love it!” Omega shouted, snatching one last pillow for the inside.

“Hey, that’s mine.” Crosshair made a grab for her. “You’re worse than a Jawa, you little…”

Omega dodged his hands with a cackle, diving into the safety of her new hovel. Once she was inside, she peered out at him with a wide grin. “Never said I couldn’t take it!”

Crosshair scoffed, though the corner of his mouth curled up. “Tech, you need to stop teaching her how to argue.”

“I taught her no such thing, though she has certainly observed it between us more than enough,” Tech retorted, then said in a slightly sterner tone, “Omega, you should ask nicely if you want to take something.”

Omega was undaunted, knowing what the answer was likely to be. “C’oss, can I p’ease have your pillow?”

“I take it back. You’re worse than a Jawa.” Crosshair sighed when she giggled. “I want it back when we land, got it?”

“‘Kay!” Pleased with that outcome, Omega retreated into her cozy fortress with some of her toys, and it was there she stayed for the rest of the trip until Hunter called for her.

“Omega, we’re going to be arriving soon. Get your things ready.”

“But I wanna stay in here!” Omega complained.

Wrecker laughed. “Hey Tech, you should write that down. I don’t think she’s ever wanted to stay on the ship before.”

“You’re right. That is rather noteworthy.”

Hunter appeared outside her fort, beckoning her. “Come on. We can make another one next time.”

Omega emerged with great reluctance and a frown, unhappy at abandoning her fort so soon after its creation.

“You know…” Crosshair began from his pillow-less bunk, “I don’t see why you couldn’t make one in the barracks.”

Omega gasped as the realization settled in, breaking into an excited grin. She ran off to the cockpit yelling, “Tick, ‘ow much longer? Gonna make ‘nother fort!”

“Good thinking,” Hunter told Crosshair, “But now you might never see your pillow again.

***

“Six hours?” Omega’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“It’s Tech, of course he’s sure,” Crosshair drawled.

“He’s right. My estimates are generally correct,” Tech said, sitting back from the flight controls as the ship settled into hyperspace travel. “It will be a six-hour transit, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

Omega groaned, slumping in her chair. “That’s forever!”

Tech cracked a smile. “I know it may seem that way, my dear, but I’m confident you’ll persevere.”

“You could always use the time to catch up on your studies,” Hunter suggested.

Omega wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather do something else.”

“I thought so.”

“Life was easier when we could just trick you into sleeping through half the trip,” Crosshair muttered.

“Trick me?” Omega repeated indignantly.

“A better definition would be ‘tiring you out’,” Tech said.

“Hey, don’t let them tease you, kid,” Echo put in. “You fill them with enough food and you can trick them into going to sleep. It’s the only way I get some peace and quiet around here.”

Omega laughed at the others’ affronted expressions. “Maybe I’ll try that.”

“Really? Then I’ll just have to use you to train for the next six hours!” Wrecker grabbed Omega out of her seat, lifting her above his head as she squealed.

“You can do better than that,” Crosshair said. “You might as well be lifting nothing.”

“Stoppit!” Omega laughed, limbs flailing. “I’m not even heavy!”

“Put her down before someone gets hurt,” Hunter ordered, though he was fighting a smile.

“Alright, fine.” Wrecker lowered Omega easily, plopping her in the nearest available lap, which happened to be Echo’s. He didn’t bat an eye as he was suddenly saddled with Omega, who had not stopped giggling.

“Crosshair’s right,” he said as he adjusted Omega to make her more comfortable. “You might as well be lifting nothing.”

“Sorry, kid. Guess you’ll have to find something else to do for the next six hours…unless…” Wrecker brightened suddenly, and he leaned over, whispering something to Hunter.

“Oh, great,” Echo grumbled. “Whispering is never good.”

Hunter ignored the comment, addressing Omega. “Wrecker suggested that you could pass the time by building a fort like you used to. Remember that?”

Omega squinted as she tried to dig up the memories. “A little…”

“Sound like fun?” Wrecker asked.

Omega almost agreed, but caught herself habitually. “Uh, won’t that make a mess?”

Wrecker shrugged. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Really?”

“We’ve made some far bigger messes than hanging blankets,” Echo said, “and I only know what I’ve been around for.”

“Yeah, so don’t worry about that.” Wrecker tugged Omega to her feet, and she followed him into the cabin as she warmed up to the idea.

“I don’t know where to start,” she confessed. “I don’t remember that much.”

Wrecker grabbed the rumpled blanket from his bunk. “That’s why I’m helping you out.”

“And me, as well,” Tech said, stepping from the cockpit. “Though admittedly, I would like to avoid any incidents similar to the attempts to hang Echo’s hammock in the barracks.”

“That was Crosshair’s fault,” Wrecker argued.

“For the millionth time, it was yours,” Crosshair shot back, following Tech. “Echo agrees with me.”

“What? No I don’t.”

Hunter sighed. “Even if you did, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

Eventually, all of them piled into the cabin to help with the construction. Omega had great fun putting together the fort, but more than that, she enjoyed simply being with them. They hung a blanket between the gunner’s mount-turned-bedroom and Gonky, upturning a couple of empty crates to act as support for the “walls” that surrounded a soft pile of bedding.

It was a simple project, crude even, but Omega loved it for those very qualities. It was the opposite of Kamino, built specifically for her by the men she loved. As she situated herself on the nest inside the little fort, she already knew she wouldn’t want to take it down.

“Now what are we going to do for the next five hours?” Crosshair asked when the fort was deemed finished.

“I got it.” Wrecker sat himself down on the floor in front of Omega’s fort. “Wanna hear some stories about what we got up to?”

Omega leaned forward eagerly. “Yeah!”

“So long as they are appropriate,” Tech added.

Crosshair rolled his eyes and turned away, but Wrecker caught his leg before he could move out of reach. “Aw, don’t go away! You had the best view for some of ‘em!”

Crosshair tried to shake him off to no avail. “Spare me.”

“But I want to hear your stories too!” Omega pleaded.

“Why?”

“Because…” Omega tried to come up with a convincing argument. “You get to see lots of things the others don’t!”

Crosshair stared at her for a moment, then sighed, biting out, “One.”

Omega grinned as he sat down, settling in as Wrecker began. “So, one time when we got stuck in a snowstorm, and the ship’s power supply froze up…”

Some time later, Omega blinked awake, her face squashed against Lula’s softness. Remembering where she was, she realized that she had fallen asleep somewhere in the course of the many stories told to her. What had begun as Wrecker and Crosshair had turned into everyone telling her about some of the wild exploits they had accomplished in her absence.

She sat up groggily, embarrassed at herself and fully prepared to be teased for her lapse, until she saw she was not alone. Everyone was strewn about the cabin; Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech were on the floor almost on top of each other, while Hunter and Echo were on bunks, but every single one of them was asleep.

Omega smiled, unable to help it as she rearranged herself. Laying down again, she basked in how secure she felt, and found she almost didn’t want to reach their destination and ruin the tranquility. Maybe long transits weren’t so bad after all.

[jedipoodoo]

This might be a weird request, you don't have to write this okay! But... How about Imperal bad batch ( seperated) and pregnant reader? Hunter turns into the darks side while his wife is pregnant (almost like Anakin and Padme

THIS REQUEST GOT ME LIKE

Ma'am, I will answer any and all requests for a pregnant reader and you know that. I'm sorry for taking so long, but I really wanted to do this one justice 😁

Haunted (Imperial! Hunter x Pregnant!Fem!Reader)

Okay, so most of my Dad Batch shorts mention keeping the baby from the kaminoans and the like, so....what if they couldn't keep the baby from them???

Warnings: labor and delivery, pregnancy (obvi), kidnapping, The Empire sucks, Nala Se is a pain in the shebs, Nobody likes Wilhuff Tarkin. This one is a lot darker than my usual stuff. Dark may be too strong of a word for it, but idk how else to put it.

Notes: what it says on the label. Pregnant reader, female reader. Hunter is manipulated. Protective Hunter, Angst without a happy ending...yet. Dividers by @saradika

"Hold on just a minute more, cyare, we're almost there," Hunter urged. Echo peeked around the corner, signaling for Hunter to freeze. Hunter, holding one of your hands to lead you and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you upright, pulled you against the wall to keep from being seen around the corner. He could hear the slow, meandering gait of a Kaminoan as they walked past the hall, unsuspecting, taking all the time in the world while you struggled not to whimper at the pain in Hunter's arms.

Hunter gently patted your belly, as if that would make everything better.

"You're doing great," He whispered.

"I'm gonna kill you," You growled.

Echo hissed a warning, waving you both forward. The Kaminoan was gone.

Your comm beeped softly, and Hunter snatched it up, trying to get you to move faster when all you could do was waddle.

"Come in, Tech."

"The medical wing has been cleared. Wrecker and Crosshair will stand guard."

"Good. We're two minutes out."

"AHH!" Your knees gave out as a contraction tore through your body, and you almost slipped out of Hunter's arms.

Hunter gently lowered you to the floor to let you catch your breath, "Breathe, sweetheart, just keep breathing," He urged. It was in some stupid holo-article that he had read online, and despite the amount of research he'd put into labor and delivery, that tactic in particular was starting to get super annoying. Breathing was one of the last things on your mind when you had

"Is that one worse than the last few?" Echo asked. He was trying to be gentle, force bless him he was, but his grip on your arm was struggling not to pull you to your feet and drag you to safety.

You looked up at Hunter, and froze. Despite the fact that every single thing he was trying to do at the moment was annoying you to no end, you could see the fear quavering in his eyes.

You all knew that if the Kaminoans found you, as arrogant and self-serving as they were, they would unquestionably seize your child as Kaminoan property, enfolding him (or her) into the sea of identical brothers bred for slaughter. Neither Hunter or his brothers were going to let that happen.

"Osik," Hunter muttered none too softly. You followed his gaze to the floor, where a sticky puddle was forming from your water breaking. Osik was right.

Hunter slipped his arms under your legs and your back and hefted you in the air. He didn't even wait for the all-clear from Echo, he just ran to the med-wing.

"Hunter, I can walk-" but the next contraction stole your breath and proved you wrong. Hunter ran faster, and you could hear Echo struggling to catch up with you. You wrapped your arms around Hunter's neck and prayed.

Wrecker and Crosshair waved you past, sealing the door shut behind you. Only Tech and a single med-droid were in the tiny medical wing they had managed to clear.

"The droid's memory will be wiped the moment we are finished," Tech promised before you could voice your worries. Hunter gently sat you on the table, bracing your feet in the stirrups.

"Her contractions are two minutes and thirty seconds apart," Hunter said. The droid quickly ran a few scans to confirm and Tech handed you a large sheet of paper that hardly counted as a robe.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You gulped, bracing yourself against another contraction. Whether or not you were ready, your baby was coming.

There was pounding on the door, but you could barely hear their demands of "Open up in there!" over the squalls of your baby.

"It's a boy," Tech said, almost as an afterthought as the droid cut the umbilical cord.

Hunter pressed his lips to your forehead, despite how sweaty and gross you felt. "Good job, cyare," He whispered, "You did so good."

You nodded, unable to think straight. "The baby..." You reached for the child bundled in Tech's arms. Hunter sprung to his feet and took them from Tech as gently as he could, bringing the baby back over to you.

"Oh," You gasped softly, running a finger across their cheek. It was a little sticky, like something that had been dried haphazardly, and their hair was still slick with blood and fluids, but you brushed it out with your fingers, letting the dark curls spring into place as he wriggled with all his newborn strength.

"He looks just like you, Hunter," You whispered.

"The spitting image," Tech had already shut down the droid to wipe its memory circuits, and you took the baby from Hunter, pressing him against your chest.

"Mama's here, Mama's here," You said, kissing the baby over and over.

The pounding on the door had stopped, but there was lots of shouting. Hunter's gaze darted to the door as he heard Wrecker cry out.

"We've got to get you out of here," He said, pulling you to your feet. You stumbled like a newborn fathier colt, leaning against him.

"I-I can't," You gasped. You tried to give him the baby, "You have to take him,"

"I'm not leaving you," He insisted.

"Now is not the time for affectionate stubbornness, Hunter, she's right. You have to get him out of here before-"

There was blasterfire in the hall, and you saw sparks fly as several bolts hit the door. Your son wailed unhappily and you reached for him, only to pull your hand back at the last moment.

"Go!" You begged Hunter, but it was too late.

The door that Tech had painstakingly sealed shut slid open, and eight shock troopers pointed their blasters into the room, aiming for you, Hunter, and the baby.

"Place the infant on the table and step back," Their captain commanded.

"No," Ever the contrarian, Hunter shielded your son from their view.

You hadn't even named him yet.

Just beyond the wall of troopers, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo had all been forced to their knees with their hands behind their heads. The bodies of several other Shock Troopers and Kaminoan security troopers were strewn about the hall, dead or alive it was hard to tell, but the Batch wasn't going down without a fight.

Admiral Tarkin stepped into the doorway to take in the damage for himself, but what made your blood run cold was Nala Se standing behind him.

"You will not take my child!" You screamed. stumbling to your feet to stand between your son and the blasters.

"Your child is Kaminoan property," Nala Se said calmly, despite the bodies of her creation littered around her.

"Imperial Property," Tarkin corrected harshly, "Much like your supposed lover and his squad. Lieutenant, you are stripped of your title and imprisoned for your crimes. CT-9901, you are also henceforth removed from your post as Sergeant. You are all under arrest."

"She has just given birth!" Tech finally spoke up, "She will not be going anywhere until she heals! Unless you wish to have her death on your hands?"

You hadn't even named him yet.

Tarkin shrugged, "Dead or alive, it makes no difference." He waved to the troopers who approached with several sets of binder cuffs like the others wore.

"No!" You screamed and leaped at the troopers. You were unable to do more than crash into them, but it gave Hunter a shot at getting through, and that was all you could hope for.

With your son secured to his chest, Hunter dashed out of the room and past the astonished Nala Se and a flabbergasted Tarkin. You smirked to yourself as you slid down to the floor, breathing heavily.

Tech grabbed your arm to steady you, and both of you were grabbed by the troopers

Hunter knew the halls of Kamino like the back of his hand. Once he made it past the original wave, there was little to stop the (former) sergeant of Clone Force Ninety-Nine.

His baby whimpered in his arms, and he hurriedly hushed them.

He'd come back for you later, or maybe his brothers would help you escape, somewhere quiet and peaceful like you'd always talked about after the war. Somewhere you could raise your family in peace.

But for now, he was only worried about doing what you'd said, and that was getting your son to safety.

"It's alright, ad'ika, we're gonna get you out of here," He whispered, pressing his lips against the boy's forehead.

"I'll keep you safe."

Alarms blared to signal his escape, which made it harder to calm the baby, but also simultaneously hid their cries.

Hunter wished that his brothers were with him, but they had all agreed to this. They had all insisted that your child was priority, and they would defend it like one of their Vode, just as they had when you joined them.

Hunter ran faster, on deft feet, always knowing which hall to take in order to avoid a clumsy stampede.

The Marauder was docked in the bay closest to the medwing, Echo needed a checkup after their last mission, but it seemed serendipitous when your contractions started in the early morning. You knew the Kaminoans would see this as openly flaunting your blatant disregard for their authority in their own city. You'd wanted to have your baby anywhere but Tipoca City, but then you'd received orders to return to Kamino with the end of the war.

Hunter grit his teeth, avoiding patrols was keeping him from going as fast as he'd like,and his son's cries were getting more and more agitated. It was a pitiful replacement, but he stuck his finger in the child's mouth to let him suck on it. As soon as he took off, he could give him the formula aboard the Marauder and look him over.

"Most childcare experts agree that there is a distinct possibility that hyperspace travel at such a delicate stage can be detrimental to child's development," Tech's voice echoed in Hunter's mind. But that couldn't be helped right now.

He turned the corner towards the bay, but it was blocked by another squad of Shock Troopers. Before he could think, he drew his blaster.

"Hunter!" You screamed in terror. Hunter's blood ran ice-cold as he spotted you.

You were on your knees, held upright by two troopers, and an Admiral (or someone else who wore one of those gray suits) had a blaster pointed at your head. Tarkin met Hunter's gaze with a smug smile.

"You made a valiant effort in your escape, Sergeant. I can only imagine how much that child means to you."

Hunter shifted the baby, holding him closer. The boy was starting to grow frantic again, now that he didn't have anything to suck on.

"However," Tarkin continued, "Much like yourself, the child is now property of the Galactic Empire. Attempting to steal him is treason."

"If I'm already committing treason, I might as well shoot you here and seal the deal." Hunter focused his aim on Tarkin.

"You could, couldn't you?" Tarkin barked a cold, humorless laugh,

"However, the moment you open fire, Vice Admiral Rampart has orders to shoot at point-blank range."

You shook your head desperately. "Hunter, don't!"

"Hand over the infant, now!" Tarkin said. His lackey in an identical suit pressed the blaster to the base of your throat, cutting off your protest.

"What will it be: the child? Or it's mother?" Tarkin sneered.

It was over. Hunter knew that. Even if he did as you asked, he still wouldn't be able to get past the Shock Troopers. His sons cries were like ringing in his ears as he tossed his blaster to the side.

They took his son from his arms, and all he could say was "Support his head!" as they turned away so that Hunter couldn't even see him anymore, but he listened to his cries as they were dragged in opposite directions.

You and Hunter were brought to what sufficed as the brig in Tipoca City. Tech, Echo, Crosshair, and Wrecker were already there, and they hurried to make room for you to sit on the only bench available. Your legs were shaking terribly, and you were sore all over. The pain medication Tech had given you was starting to wear off. Tech gave you a once-over as best he could without his datapad or any medical gear.

"Most of this recovery takes several months anyway, even without the added stress you've been through," He said, it what must have been an objectively positive observation, but only served to remind you of everything you had just lost.

"Where's the kid?" Crosshair demanded. Hunter couldn't even look him in the eye from the insane guilt he felt at giving up his son. All you could do was cry.

Crosshair cursed and slammed his fist against the wall, though he didn't know what he was expecting from an operation like this. Clone Force 99 had never known failure like this before, it was a foreign feeling to them.

Hunter refused to let himself cry. He had to be strong for his brothers, for you and your son. He had to get you out of there, somehow.

He didn't even know how you could bare to look at him for such a catastrophic failure, but you turned to him and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him close to you.

"We...we didn't even get to name him," You whimpered in Hunter's arms.

Hunter's jaw stiffened atop the crown of your head.

"Well, let's name him now."

It felt slightly pathetic, sobbing in a jail cell over a child that had been ripped from your arms, but the idea of naming him felt like a rousing battle cry deep in your soul. The Kaminoans hated the names that the clones gave each other, and despite all the nicknames that they claimed and gave to each other, at the end of the day only their numbers were written on reports and official documentation.

But your son wasn't a clone. He was your son. And he would have a name from birth.

"Asher." You said. Where you came from, the name symbolized hope, of something beautiful and precious being created from the ashes of destruction. Something like your life as a family.

Hunter nodded, gently rubbing circles into your shoulders. "Asher it is."

"CT-9901, you need to come with us."

Ice encased your heart as the shock troopers approached the makeshift cell, deactivating the shield.

"Don't," You begged, looking up at him as your hands dug into his shirt, holding on for dear life.

"I have to," He whispered, working your fingers loose so he could stand.

"She's right," Echo said loudly, standing up.

"Yes, we stay together." Tech stepped between Hunter and the shock trooper.

The trooper did not take kindly to this show of defiance, and drove the butt of his blaster into Tech's stomach. Tech fell to his knees as he gasped in pain, and the others all stood ready to fight, but knowing it was fruitless.

"Enough," Hunter stood, motioning to his brothers to stand down.

"I'll go."

He wasn't cuffed, but there was a blaster muzzle in his back every step of the way. The troopers led him back to the med bay, where several medical droids were still cleaning the room that you had commandeered earlier. The troopers marched him past the room and past a large window where several cadets were going through their checkups. And right in the corner was Asher.

Hunter disregarded the warnings from the Troopers and place his hand against the window, wishing he could catch his son's attention. He was in an incubation box, sound asleep, with monitors strapped to his chest. Hunter was just relieved he wasn't in a growth tube.

"Asher," He murmured as a shock trooper gripped his shoulder, "Your name is Asher."

The troopers all but dragged him to another closed-off room, where Tarkin waited with Nala Se and a datapad. Hunter kept his focus on Tarkin, wondering if the so-called "Admiral" had spent as much time with a hot blaster in his hand than in a comfortable office on Coruscaunt.

"We meet again, Sergeant."

Hunter chuckled, "I thought I wasn't a Sergeant anymore, Admiral."

"I suppose you'd prefer to be called CT-9901, then?"

So the Admiral did know about their chosen names, he just chose not to use them.

"What do you want?" He asked, trying to not let his breathing get the best of him.

"What I need is your cooperation,"

Hunter shrugged, "Sounds simple enough. Just let them go."

He knew it was a fool's dream to think that Tarkin would actually acquiesce to his demands, but he had to try.

"Let my wife, son, and brothers go and I'll do whatever you want."

Tarkin squared his shoulders to challenge Hunter, "Certainly not. That would be a grave mistake on our part. Think of all that we could learn. The Empire has other plans for a force-sensitive child."

Hunter's blood ran cold.

"Oh, you didn't know," Tarkin smiled slyly, and Hunter's hands clenched in an effort to keep from slapping the smirk off his face.

Nala Se handed Tarkin her datapad, "Nala Se's team has performed all the necessary tests and administered the correct vaccinations for your child. A quick blood test showed a count of approximately fifteen-thousand midi-chlorians."

Hunter's throat ran dry, and his ears rang with the sound of his son- Asher's- cries.

"You have a simple choice, Sergeant. Join the Empire freely, stay with your brothers, your partner and your child, or be forced to watch them suffer for your treason."

It wasn't much of a choice, and Hunter knew it. They were offering him the short end of the stick to pull him from the same raging rapids they had tossed him into, but it was either that or drown.

And he would sacrifice everything he was for the chance to protect you and your child.

Post-Script: I know I've used Asher as a name for Crosshair's kid but it fit too well for this AU.

[stars-n-spice]

Dad Batch as things my Dad did/said during our trip to drop off my younger sister at college:

Hunter:

Told my mom (who was driving in the other car) that we were going to take a shortcut and she expressed her disagreement with the idea before giving in - then after that conversation he kept muttering about how "great" his shortcut was to validate it to himself

Got mad at me for messing up one screw on the table we were putting together (it literally did not compromise the table in anyway) - "You ruined it!" - and this was after I helped him put together a whole ass dresser

Knew our van had battery problems courtesy of our last trip and STILL didn't get it fixed so he had to jump-start our van every time we turned it on

Echo:

Had a playlist that consisted of country songs, old Korean songs, pop song covers of classic songs that didn't need pop song covers, Latin pop music, and Disney songs playing

Showed us multiple times how to fold a t-shirt in seconds after seeing an Instagram reel about how to do so

Wrecker:

Kept getting spooked out by the fact that our hotel was across the street from a cemetery - he'd make ghost noises and when I told him to stop because he'd scare himself he went "I'm already scared."

Got scolded by my mom for playing the games on his phone when it was nearly midnight - she asked "are you still playing your games??" and he just gave her a blank look and showed her his phone where he was, in fact, still playing his games

Would remember he had things to do on his phone WHILE DRIVING and would try and get them done WHILE DRIVING

Tech:

Would violate traffic laws occasionally and when I called him out he went "I don't care. Nobody died."

Had me help him build furniture and make sure he was following the directions right because "I'm good at Legos"

Every time he got a chance to take a rest from diving he'd sleep for maybe,, ten minutes?? and then spend the rest of the time either A) playing on his phone or B) making sure we were going the right way despite having a GPS

Crosshair:

"He seemed to be....Canadian looking *with disgust*" <- about my sister's neighbors

Looked up the lyrics to a hymn my mom was trying to remember so she could go to sleep and leave him alone

[auntie-venom]

Bad Batch fandom gang, I need your help.

DragonCon is coming up and for a party cosplay I decided that my husband needs to be retired Hunter, but as a stereotypical dad.

Not quite epilogue old man, Hunter, but him wearing khaki shorts, crew socks, tennis shoes, Hawaiian shirt, and a sleeveless undershirt that needs to have something clever on it. Something like “Pabu sweet home“ or “retired“ or something punny or cheesy.

Test outfit for vibe:

Thought about him wearing a tourism Pabu themed shirt that quotes what he says at the end of the season finale: “follow your own path” or “choose who you want to be”. Also thought about getting one of those cringey hyper specific shirts.

I’m now just searching for ideas for the shirt so I can find someone/force myself to draw it up and get it printed. (I might commission cause I’m shit at digital art and graphic design)

Do you have anything punny or funny you can think of as a shirt idea for him?

I just need more brains on this than mine.

Collage of premade shirts I’ve been considering (and the hyper specific shirt style):

[easchnitt]

Sleepy Omega needs sleepy time