#hunter is all no echo we were meant to be a team

[bibannana]

Wrecker *holding an egg in his hands*: Do you think eggs can be scrambled while in the shell?

Crosshair *agent of chaos (as long as it doesn't affect him)*: Do it. Let us find out.

Omega *nodding*: I think you can Wrecker!

Hunter *can see Wrecker breaking the egg and it going everywhere*: Don't try it. Don't.

Tech *placing down his datapad*: You can. If you spin the eggs-

Hunter *frowning*: Nobody is spinning anything.

Echo *who figured out the fastest way to scramble an egg in shell (through much trial and error, and a furious Rex covered with egg)*: I say we do it.

[ghostofskywalker]

Can I request a tech x gn reader where the reader gets injured upon landing instead of him?

warnings: spoilers for tbb episodes 1 and 2!!

hello! here it is, i hope you enjoy!! side note, i was researching what a broken femur felt like (i've never broken a bone so i have no clue) and from what i can tell, the pain is literally unbearable, so either tech is a hell of a lot stronger than people give him credit for, or they totally downplayed how painful this injury is!

words: 2,033

summary: after you get injured in the cargo container, it's clear that tech is worried about you, and you can't help but wonder how your injury will change the team's dynamic.

clone troopers masterlist

Why Serenno Isn't Exactly The Best Place For a Vacation

The crate came flying at you too quickly to move out of the way in time, and the crushing pressure you felt when it landed on your legs made the hope of escaping unscathed completely out of question. You barely registered the shouts of your name from the other members of the team, and even when they removed the offending object from your legs there was no break in the pain.

Constant and unfathomably sharp, the feeling of absolute agony took over to the point where you were blinking tears out of your eyes and trying desperately to think about anything but the ever-growing feeling of horrifying torment. “Are you okay?” you heard Omega ask, and you knew she only meant well, but you were in no shape to answer.

“I believe that you have broken your femur,” Tech said after he took out a scanner from his belt and ran it over your leg. “This is a very serious issue, and we will need medical attention as soon as possible.”

“Let’s hope we can get out of here soon then,” Echo responded, and you couldn’t help but agree with him.

There was no hiding the pain now, and you just let the tears flow freely instead of trying to downplay the cocktail of horrors you were currently experiencing. Echo and Tech climbed up the side of the cargo container to hopefully be able to see where it had landed, and Omega stayed by your side, her little hand finding its way into your larger one. You knew that she was worried about you, and you tried your best to offer a smile of reassurance, but you were sure that it probably didn’t seem that convincing. After being pulled up by a wire and eventually landing on the clifftop, you laid on the ground and stared up at the sky, desperately hoping that everything would all be over soon.

There was still so much at play and so much danger all around you, but it was going to be hard to focus on anything but the terrible pain in your legs at this moment. You closed your eyes in hopes that you might be able to trick your brain into believing that you were anywhere but here right now, and you heard snippets of conversation between Echo, Tech, and Omega.

“Can’t move well, if at all…”

“It’s dangerous to be so open and exposed…”

“Nothing we can do if…”

You floated in and out of consciousness the entire time, still trying desperately to cling onto happy memories of the past even though it has proven so far to be ineffective against this particular torment. You thought you heard Echo say something about checking out the area and searching for cover, but the next thing you truly registered was the sight of Tech leaning over you, a worried expression on his helmet-less face.

“What’s happening?” you managed to slur out, the pain starting to affect your speech.

“Echo and Omega are going to search for a suitable shelter while we wait for Hunter and Wrecker to return with the Marauder,” he said. “But unfortunately there is not much I can do to help you at this moment. The fracture that you sustained inside the cargo container will require more medical attention and skill than either Echo or I have to give.”

You nodded in understanding as Tech took your hand and gently pulled it up to place a soft kiss to your palm. The gesture did calm and ground you, even if just for a fleeting moment, and you were thankful that he stayed behind with you instead of Echo or Omega.

While you couldn’t ever put an exact label on the relationship you had with the Bad Batch’s resident genius, it was certainly more intimate than the one you had with the other members of the squad. But due to your own worry and the fact that neither you nor Tech were really great at expressing your feelings, the few kisses you had shared and obvious affection you felt for one another never received a specific designation, instead remaining as open and nebulous as the galaxy itself. But you did know one thing, and that was the fact that even though the pain in your leg had yet to subside even for a single moment, you couldn’t help the way you wanted to pull yourself off the ground and place soft kisses all over Tech’s worried face.

But clearly you couldn’t, so you had to be okay with simply holding his hand until Echo and Omega returned with an elderly gentleman in tow. It seemed that neither of them noticed the way your hand pulled away from Tech’s or the way he stood up quickly as they approached, and soon you were being gently pulled up and supported as you began the short (and immensely painful) trek to Romar’s dwelling.

The only thing that provided a little bit of hope once you reached shelter was the single painkiller capsule Tech found in his kit. It didn’t kick in right away, but by the time things got serious, the feeling of intense agony had started to fade, even if it only left you with a feeling of less intense agony.

When Omega disappeared, you kicked yourself for not noticing quicker. Tech and Echo had immediately ran out to check the war chest, sure that was where she had gone off to, and you sat there, wondering what you should do. It felt wrong to just stay here and do nothing while your teammates were out and likely experiencing immense danger, but the pain in your leg had simply not subsided, and you had a feeling that you would be stuck with this feeling for the considerable future, even if you were able to find some form of treatment for your leg.

But when neither Tech nor Echo returned to Romar’s home for a while, your mind took a turn for the worst. Pulling yourself up to a standing position, you hobbled to the door. “You won’t get very far in your condition,” Romar said gently.

You knew that it would probably be better if you stayed, but you just couldn’t stomach the idea of letting your team down. Being a member of this squad meant more to you than you could ever put into words, and you refused to sit by and stay out of the inevitable fight that was coming. “I’ll manage,” you responded to the old man, trying to hide the pain you were still feeling from your expression.

“Your friends seemed to foresee this happening,” he responded, and you turned around to see Romar holding a blaster out to you. You took it, overcome with an emotion you didn’t quite know how to explain, and after you thanked the man for all his help, you were stepping out into the night air and doing your best to ignore the horrible sensations you felt in your injured leg.

By the time you reached close to where you thought the cliff was, the pain in your leg had grown to nearly be unbearable, but you couldn’t focus on that now, because there were two troopers up ahead, their Imperial armor devoid of all the color and other things that made the Batch’s armor unique.

Stunning one of them was easy because they didn’t know you were there, but once your position was given away it got a little more difficult. Blaster fire scattered all around as you to took cover behind a tree, and you thanked the Maker that it only took one or two more shots to stun the other trooper. However, you weren’t out of the woods just yet (both literally and figuratively), because you had no idea whether or not more reinforcements were on the way, and you hadn’t yet seen Tech, Echo, or Omega.

As you took a tentative step forward, the uneven ground beneath your foot made you stumble, and the pain in your leg sent you careening forward. You threw your arms out as to not let your face hit the ground, but you were now completely stuck as you laid there, not enough strength left in your body to pull yourself back up.

The pain capsule from before was starting to wear off as the adrenaline from the fight also started to diminish, and you could barely register the sound of others approaching you, but you couldn't really recognize their voices. Hoping it was Tech, Echo, and Omega, you allowed your eyes to close, the inky blackness enveloping your mind and body like a warm hug.

***

The sound of steady beeping is what brought you back to the land of the living, and you were immediately startled by the brightness of this new location. The feeling of stabbing pain in your thigh had become a dull ache at this point, still intense enough to pull your concentration from anything else but significantly less powerful than it had previously felt. You shifted slightly in the cot you were laying on, and suddenly a hand appeared in your vision, gently landing on your shoulder to keep you from sitting up. “Calm down, you’re going to be okay.”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t move too much, it will disrupt your bandages.”

You knew that voice, and that familiarity is what got you to pause. Looking up, you got a better image of where you were. It was clearly some kind of medical facility, from the look of the beds and machines all around you, and you were laying on a cot. It was Tech that had stopped you from moving before, and he had a worried expression on his face. “Where am I?” you asked.

“Medical facility, courtesy of Rex’s information,” he responded. “They set and put a cast on your leg, but you will still need time to heal. Wrecker and Omega are currently picking out a cane to aid you when your leg has recovered enough to walk, apparently there were many options and they wanted to make sure you had the best one.”

You smiled slightly and nodded. The fact that your injuries had been treated explained the significant difference in pain level, but you knew this injury was not something that was just going to disappear. “When are you all going to leave?”

“Leave?” Tech’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in your question. “What do you mean?”

“I highly doubt I’ll be able to go on missions with you guys, and I wouldn’t want my injury to slow you down,” you said plainly. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.”

There was a moment of silence before Tech answered your question, and he reached down to gently take your hand in his. “There is not a single member of this team that thinks that we would leave you behind,” he said, his usual matter-of-fact tone having taken on a slightly softer edge. “And there is plenty that you can help us with even if you cannot be in the center of the action.”

“Really?”

Tech nodded. “Truly. I could not live with myself if we left you behind, just seeing you injured has been painful enough.”

At his words, you scooted over in your bed and tapped the spot next to you. “Come cuddle with me,” you said, hoping your silly request would be accepted and he wouldn’t find it odd or strange.

“But what about if the others see?” Tech’s eyes were wide behind his goggles, and if you were completely healed, you would have moved up to place a kiss on his cheek or nose.

“I don’t care if they do,” you responded. “I just want to cuddle with you.”

It took a moment, but Tech eventually obliged, gently slipping into bed next to you. When he placed his arm around you and felt you nuzzle gently into him, he immediately decided that he didn’t care what his brothers thought either. And besides, if the way Echo had looked at him when they were watching over your unconscious form on the ship was any indication, they probably already knew something was happening.

- the end -

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[warsamongthestars]

After the roaring rage of the last few days, how bout some hope?

ONWARDS TO THE CLONE WARS!

Me rewatching the TBB TCWshow Arc (... [sigh], again), and I caught a new thing.

See, Hunter and Rex are meant to be narrative foils to one another.

Rex is upright and honest, whilst Hunter is evasive and snarky.

Rex is a clean cut commander who is having doubts about the war, and Hunter is a scruffy sergeant who isn't really taking all this that seriously.

Rex using an algorithm to vary strategies and relies on defense. Hunter aggressively rushes in, and he and his team trust instincts instead of orders.

Rex keeps his cool under pressure, and when he loses his cool, he gets aggressive. Hunter tends to be a snippy worrywart, and shutsdown as a response to aggression.

The new thing is that, on other end, Echo is also meant to be a Foil and Contrast to Hunter... But where Rex and Hunter don't compliment each other--Echo does compliment the Bad Batch, just as much as he'd compliment Rex as a character.

When we get reintroduced back to Echo, inspite of his circumstance, he maintains good humor and though its a life threatening situation, he not only maintains his cool, he's back on his feet in hours.

He's got humor and optimism to Hunter's cynicism and worry, and can even work to outsnip him. Determination against any fears and pressure in the face of danger, to Wrecker's emotional state and phobias.

Social graces to Tech's technical graces (To a point, but I don't really want to rely on this as their contrast, but its the only one I've spotted outright... because its kriffin' typical. )

And to Crosshair? Well, instead of the "Reg"ular clone, meet the "Reg"ulations Clone. In fact, there's actually a comparison here. Both of them will simply march up to any officer and tell 'em how it is--with Cross its usually for purposes of hostility, but for Echo, its purposes of forwarding goals. I know a lot of HCs and Fanfics go into how Echo, with his regulations reading, is about chain of command--but Echo has never respected chain of command. As a Cadet, he outright jumped to General to ask for a Transfer. Echo gives no fucks.

Honestly, by his introduction into the Bad Batch, he fits right in.

If such relationships were given a show to expand on these comparisons and contrasts, it would've been great.

[wolveria]

On Frozen Wings - Ch 12

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Hunter thought he was going to lose everything on Tantiss. Instead, he got something back.

AO3

Hundreds of missions completed with a one-hundred percent success rate. And in the end, they lost.

Or… thought they had.

Their infiltration into the base had gone awry almost immediately, their progress halted by a team of Imperial operatives just as well trained as the Batch. They were outnumbered and outgunned.

Hunter had been knocked out before they even had a chance.

He awoke in one of Hemlock’s labs, already in the throes of whatever machine he used to break the other clones. The insidious pain wormed its way into his skull, tried to pry him open and empty him out, like a burrowing creature that wouldn’t stop until he was a hollow husk.

And even through all of that, the throbbing in his head and Hemlock’s victory speech, which Hunter flagrantly ignored, he spotted Crosshair. Unconscious and trapped in another machine, his right hand ended in a stump that the medical droid finished cauterizing.

Sorrow buried deep in his chest, and then it ignited into rage as he watched Hemlock’s progress with a furious need to tear him apart. But he couldn’t break free before the machine sent him into a blinding, consuming hole where only agony existed.

It seemed to go on for an eternity until Omega freed them, only to be taken away by Hemlock. Hunter tried to follow, but he was unsteady, off-balance, his head a hive of angry hornets. A high-pitched ringing persisted, the planet wouldn’t stop spinning around him, and he distantly wondered if he was going blind, the edges of his vision dark.

He’d never felt so helpless. He hadn’t even sensed the operative behind him, poised to shoot, until Crosshair kicked him in the shoulder and knocked him off-balance.

Hunter saw the opening and took the shot.

Only after the electrospear was in the air did he glimpse what he’d first felt in the hanger. This was the closest Hunter had been to the assassin that had followed them like an ill omen.

Something was wrong.

The spear punctured through the middle of the assassin and pinned him to the stasis pod behind him.

Hunter couldn’t move. The electromagnetic signature, the heartbeat, even the hint of a faint scent that couldn’t be covered by the uniform.

But that heartbeat was fading. Hunter stumbled forward, grabbed the assassin’s helmet.

Please no, please no, pleasedon’t—

The helmet unsealed with a hiss, and he lifted it away.

Hunter was going to be sick.

He turned to Crosshair, whose own expression had gone abnormally pale.

“Help me,” Hunter pleaded. Not knowing himself if he meant getting him down or keeping him alive or—

“Here.” Crosshair grabbed Hunter’s vibroblade from where it was clipped to the assassin’s belt and held it out to him. “Use it.”

Hunter stared at him in horror.

“On the spear,” Crosshair instructed, his voice steady as he gripped his good arm around the assassin’s chest. “Cut through it. I’ll catch him.”

It was that calm, even tone that cleared some of the panicked haze from Hunter’s head. With great care and deep, slow breaths, Hunter sliced through the small space between flesh and metal. The spear separated from the pod, its edges glowing from the vibroblade, and they carefully set him on the ground. The spear was still impaled in his stomach, and before Hunter could reach for it, Crosshair’s words stopped him cold.

“We can’t remove it. It’ll kill him.”

He’s already dying, Hunter didn’t point out. Crosshair didn’t need him to.

Hunter could feel the assassin, or who they thought was the assassin, slip further and further away. But Hunter’s senses were also clearing, and he realized they weren’t alone.

“The others,” Hunter croaked. “They’re nearby.”

Crosshair immediately understood what he wanted—he called out Echo and Wrecker’s names, all while Hunter focused on the wound he had caused. They didn’t have any bacta left, and even if they did, this would need more than what they carried around in their supply packs.

And Omega needed him. Hunter was torn in two, hunched over the figure as he stared at his pale, bloodless face, praying to the Force or whatever deity would listen that he would open his eyes. Hunter needed to see them, proof that this was real.

Their other two brothers joined them, leaning against each other and looking worse for wear. Echo favored his right shoulder, and Wrecker had been shot at least once, but those injuries were forgotten when they saw the motionless figure.

Wrecker stumbled forward, his expression its own kind of fatal wound.

“…Tech?”

Echo pulled off his stolen helmet, his own expression brittle.

“We need bacta,” Hunter said, not addressing what they all could see.

“Hunter…”

“No,” he bit out and glared up at Echo. “He’s going to be fine.”

Echo didn’t say anything, but his expression said enough. Hunter ignored him, ignored everything, his only focus on the brother who needed them. There was no mistaking him for anyone else. The same stern features softened and slack in unconsciousness.

Hunter didn’t know how it was possible, but he couldn’t- he couldn’t lose him again.

But Tech was too still, too quiet, and his lips were turning purplish-blue.

“He’s not breathing.” Hunter looked up, desperate for answers, which instinctively made him look to Crosshair. “We need a bacta tank. There has to be one somewhere on this base.”

“Not enough time. My guess, his diaphragm is punctured.”

Before Hunter could insist they do something, Crosshair’s frown went focused and he left Hunter’s side to search a side cabinet. He brought back a black case and knelt opposite Hunter on Tech’s other side. He opened it, revealing several compartments, the bottom one revealing a long syringe containing some kind of solution, along with what looked like a battery pack.

“We have to wait for his heart to stop,” Crosshair said as he lifted the syringe and examined the liquid inside.

“What?”

“Otherwise, it will just send his heart into an abnormal rhythm.” Crosshair gave Hunter a grim look. “I’ve seen Hemlock’s doctors use it enough times. The reconditioning process is… harsh.”

Hunter couldn’t think about the implications of that, how Crosshair himself might have… No. He couldn’t think about it. Not when he was so close to the edge of something he feared he wouldn’t return from.

“Wrecker.”

Their brother took a moment to respond, his face streaked with silent tears, and he looked at Crosshair with a pleading sort of confusion that was painful to even look at.

“Grab that cart over there, the one with the tubes. Once we restart his heart, we’ll need to do his breathing for him.”

Wrecker obeyed without question, quickly bringing over the equipment and setting it up next to where they knelt. Crosshair grabbed the mask but didn’t put it over Tech’s face yet, and Echo hovered nearby, also ready to help. He looked even paler than usual, and it couldn’t be easy seeing a place like this, with his brother being used in a painfully familiar way.

Hunter grit his teeth and looked up at Crosshair, determined.

“What do you need me to do?”

Crosshair met his eye with the same determination.

“Tell me when his heart stops beating.”

Hunter paced in front of the door to the surgery bay, which remained solidly shut despite how much he glared at it. It had been a long time since he’d been on a Republic medical station, and finding out Rex had a decommissioned one hidden away had been a lucky break. Maybe the Force had heard Hunter, after all.

He ached all over, his head splitting, and he could still smell the faint acrid stench of ozone and singed flesh from his own time spent in Hemlock’s machine.

But no one would be hurt by Hemlock again. He was dead, and even Hunter didn’t know who delivered the killing shot with how many bolts he and Crosshair filled him with.

Rampart was also dead, and Hunter’s only regret was that he hadn’t done the deed himself. Crosshair just seemed relieved at the news, a weight lifted off his shoulders that he’d hidden well but seemed so obvious now that it was gone.

Hunter was glad of that, he really was. He just couldn’t… settle. Couldn’t stop moving, and he continued his pacing in front of the door.

Crosshair eyed him from his spot on the bench, a toothpick in his mouth as he watched Hunter’s restless progress.

“You haven’t slept in three rotations,” he drawled. “Sit down.”

Hunter didn’t respond. How long did it take a medical droid and combat medic to finish three-hour emergency surgery?

“Hunter. You’re going to pass out.”

“I’m fine. How long since they started?”

“Twenty-six minutes. Sit.”

He almost growled a response about how he wasn’t a damn dog, but then he caught sight of Crosshair’s arm. The stump was wrapped in a medical brace, one that would provide pain relief and further healing after the cruel cauterization done by Hemlock’s droids.

Hunter let out a breath and allowed himself to sit next to Crosshair. Just the act of getting off his feet was enough for exhaustion to grip him by the neck, but he fought off its heavy weight. He wouldn’t rest until it was over.

Crosshair, apparently, had other plans.

“Come here.”

He pulled Hunter down onto his shoulder, and Hunter gave only token resistance. He naturally sought out Crosshair’s neck, burying his face there and breathing in his scent.

“Can’t sleep yet,” he mumbled but didn’t pull away.

“You’re not sleeping. You’re resting your eyes.”

Hunter let out a huff, too bone-weary to laugh. All he wanted was to pull Crosshair into his bed (their bed?) on Pabu and sleep for a week. The kids were being looked after by Echo, Rex, and Wrecker, and probably any other clone that happened to wander by. Maybe Hemlock had a point about clones being paternal, but it was the only good point he’d ever made in a long line of terrible ones.

Including what he’d said about Hunter having lost a member of his squad and history was about to repeat itself. He’d practically rubbed it in his face that Tech had been his operative this whole time.

Hunter didn’t know how Tech had survived the fall, or what he could remember, if anything. What was left of him after Hemlock’s torture? Hunter hadn’t been in that machine for long, and he’d felt strange for hours afterward, like his skin didn’t quite fit right.

Uncertainty plagued Hunter like a ghost, a shadow, not unlike how Tech’s absence had lingered over every decision he’d made since Eriadu. And now here he was. Crosshair had managed to restart his heart with the syringe filled with bacta, adrenaline, and some kind of experimental concoction that no one but Tech would have understood. The syringe had also been equipped with a battery pack that shocked his heart directly through the needle, and Hunter had to try very hard not to think about Crosshair enduring the same brutal procedure.

But it had worked, and Echo and Wrecker had carried Tech back to the shuttle while Crosshair and Hunter caught up to Omega. Hemlock had been waylaid by a group of freed clone prisoners who had managed to subdue and stun the clone commando he was always with.

Without his bodyguard, and a little help from Omega, they’d stopped Hemlock for good. Omega was finally safe, and she hadn’t let go of Hunter or Crosshair the entire journey away from Tantiss. They’d all returned from the mission, including some unexpected additions, such as the clone scientist Emerie, and a group of “Jedi tubies,” as Wrecker had taken to calling them.

They had survived. Hunter couldn’t quite believe it, and he knew part of that was due to the lack of sleep. They’d been trained to endure long periods of sleep deprivation, but this was pushing it even for them.

And with his pauldrons removed, Crosshair was very comfortable. He gently stroked Hunter’s hair, and he was so out of it he couldn’t remember when that started. He drifted in and out, fighting to stay awake. Tech still needed him.

He couldn’t fall asleep. Had to… be there when he woke up…

When the door slid open, Hunter sat upward so fast he almost headbutted Crosshair in the jaw.

Kix gave him a look of poorly hidden amusement, but there was softness there too. That had to be a good sign, right? He wouldn’t look like that if Tech was—

“How is he?” Hunter asked as he got to his feet too fast, his vision spinning. He shook his head, indicating he was fine when Kix tried to approach him, but he needn’t have bothered. Crosshair was right there at his side, looping an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

If Kix was surprised by their odd closeness, he didn’t show it.

“Stable. The surgery went well. No complications. He’s still out, but I think that’s best for now, keep him sedated and in a bacta tank.”

“For how long?” Hunter pressed, sensing something more than what Kix was saying.

“At least another three days, then I’ll reassess. It’s… not just the abdominal injury. There’s nerve damage to his spine.”

Hunter had tried to prepare himself for that. It was a lucky shot all he did was graze Tech’s spine with the spear, but still, Hunter wavered. He only remained standing because Crosshair’s supportive arm kept him that way.

“How… bad?”

“There’s a good chance of partial recovery. He may have some mobility issues, but I think he’ll do well with physical therapy.” Kix paused, as if to carefully choose his words. “That’s honestly not my biggest concern. It’s the brain damage he sustained while in Imperial custody. It’s extensive. And no, I won’t know how severe or how permanent until he wakes up.”

Hunter knew there were questions he should ask, but he couldn’t voice any of them. He simply stood there, trying to process Kix’s words.

“He might not remember us?”

Crosshair’s voice was quiet, and Kix’s gaze was sympathetic.

“He might not remember anything.”

They were silent for a long moment, and when he thought Kix might end the conversation, he gave Crosshair a curious look.

“But you went through the process, and as far as I know, you don’t have any memory recall issues. I would like to ask more about that, and the reconditioning procedure in general. The more I know about it, the better equipped I’ll be to ease him through this transition period.”

Before, Crosshair always shut down or changed the subject when his imprisonment on Tantiss was brought up. But he nodded at Kix, mouth pressed into a determined line.

“I can do that.”

“Good.” Kix glanced between them both, a brow raised. “But that can wait. You both need sleep, and I seem to have found myself with a whole medbay full of brothers requiring my attention.”

“Wait,” Hunter said as the medic started to turn away. “Can we… see him?”

Kix’s smile was soft.

“Figured you’d ask. He’s down the hall where the bacta tanks are stationed. Tank two, though I’m sure you’ll have no trouble picking him out.”

“Thank you, Kix. Really.”

The medic put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“We’ve come a long way from Anaxes, eh?”

Hunter let out a tired chuckle.

“A lifetime.”

It really did feel that way. Hunter wasn’t the same person he was then, but that could be said of all of them.

Especially their brother suspended in the tank, Hunter and Crosshair watching him, side-by-side. He looked peaceful, slightly curled as he floated in the soft blue light, and Hunter was suddenly reminded of the clone incubators on Kamino. Something sharp twinged in his chest, settling into a dull ache.

He leaned against Crosshair, barely able to keep his own feet between the exhaustion and imbalance that Hemlock’s machine had caused. He’d have to have Kix look at him later. For now, he just wanted to see his family together again, in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

Worst case, Tech might not remember anything, but he was still Tech. Hunter was sure there was some part of him that would fight its way to the surface. Tech was just as much a soldier as they were, and he wouldn’t give up. He was too stubborn for that.

They would just have to wait.

“Think we can find a spare bunk?” Crosshair asked quietly, his eyes still on their brother suspended in the bacta solution. “At this point, any horizontal surface will do.”

Hunter considered it. He was far too tired to do anything, but if Crosshair wanted to just… well, use him, then—yeah, Hunter was fine with that. More than fine with it. He found himself wanting to touch Crosshair, reassure himself they were both still there. Crosshair still smelled too much like that place, and Hunter wanted to claim every inch of him until Crosshair smelled like… well, him.

At Hunter turning his head to nose against his neck and pull him closer, Crosshair gave an indignant noise.

“For sleep, Hunter.”

“Oh.”

He might have been embarrassed if he was more awake, but as it was, he was now exhausted with a confusing half-erection.

Crosshair sighed and tugged Hunter by his waist. Hunter looked back one last time, reassured himself that Tech was still there, and let Crosshair take him where he wanted.

Next Chapter

[arctrooperechy]

KINDRED - A BAD BATCH STORY

Series Synopsis: The Bad Batch accepts an extraction mission to rescue a member of the Galactic Senate’s daughter.

Series Rating: Mature (though that will likely change as the story progresses)

Prologue

19 BBY - OPEN SPACE

It was so...quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet for a ship full of four men and one child. Everyone was keeping to their own tasks on the ship as Hunter stood in the cockpit behind Tech in his pilot's seat.

Usually, a quiet moment such as this would be one Hunter would have savored. His enhanced senses meant feeling everything a bit more than everyone else.

And that was putting it mildly.

The sergeant learned how to quiet his mind years ago; it had been critical for his sanity and well-being. So no, of course it wasn’t the Kaminoans who taught him. And it wasn’t a member of the cuy’val dar, either.

Hunter had gotten the idea from his squad’s only friend: a gentle clone named 99. Hunter had struggled, hiding in corners when no one was watching and banging his little hands against his temples begging for silence. He thought no one noticed; but 99 did, approaching him quietly.

When trying to explain the problem, all he’d been able to say was, “it’s too loud, it’s too loud.”

99 had consoled him, stating that when things were too loud for him—when there was simply too much noise to think—he should choose a single thing and focus on it.

One thing. Focusing every heightened sense and every bit of his attention on one thing and allowing the sensation to wash over him wholly until it didn’t feel like he was really focusing on anything at all.

It took time to master the skill, through patience and seemingly endless practice. Wrecker had called it “Hunter’s quiet time” once, when they were still small. Tech had rolled his eyes and started to give the definition of “meditation” and Wrecker had covered his eyes with a groan.

Crosshair, the stoic sniper that he was, had joined Hunter for the practice numerous times over the years. It seemed to Hunter that they sought silence for very different reasons. But the pursuit to find that silence was altruistic on both their parts.Tech and Wrecker tried but it was simply in their nature to…well, not be quiet.

But tonight’s quiet was a different story. In the few hours since the squad had left Crosshair alone on Kamino, Hunter's mind had been a prison of memories and guilt. What if the Empire never sends a scout team back to Kamino? What if Crosshair was never found? What if he…

The scenario had to be in the back of everyone else’s head as well. He knew that as the squad's sergeant, it was his duty to speak up and offer guidance, hope, for his teammates.

But he had nothing. He stood in silence, hoping for someone to speak up and distract him from the gnawing insecurity clouding everything.

He stood in silence wondering if they’d made the right choice.

Finally, Wrecker spoke up behind him, ever in keeping with his optimistic and empathetic nature. "'Mega, how about we play some sabaac when we get back to Cid's?"

Omega snapped out of her trance and grinned as she replied, "oh, you're soooo on. Loser buys the Mantell mix for our last mission!"

Wrecker chuckled as he whispered to the girl, "you know Hunter covers that anyway." Omega giggled jovially as she and Wrecker continued their banter. Up front, Echo and Tech began discussing necessary maintenance for the hyperdrive once they were on land again.

Thankful for the chatter, Hunter began selfishly longing for the moment they touched down on Ord Mantell. Maybe the squad would have a chance to relax (for once) and take their minds off of the last several rotations’ events.

As wrong as the notion felt, Hunter thought that perhaps the more distance the squad put between themselves and Crosshair...the better.

-

CARIDA

Merritt Belaena couldn’t wipe the frown off her face. She wouldn’t wipe the frown off her face. One act of defiance, one thing she could control, was this frown. She would wear it until the day she died. If only to prove a point.

The previous evening had been typical. A beautiful gala in a beautiful gown. A lot of conversation she couldn’t remember. A bit too much to drink. An unwelcome wave of emotions hitting her once she retired to her bedchambers. A fit of tossing and turning before sleep set her free.

This morning had been anything but typical.

She had been jolted awake by one of the handmaidens, imploring her to follow. After a moment of back and forth, Merritt relented and was led to the study.

Senator Belaena’s study, that is.

The Senator being her mother; the study being a room no one was typically permitted access while she worked.

The handmaiden ushered Merritt inside and was away with a final thud of the door closing. She looked around the room and saw no servants, no troopers, and no onlookers; only her parents gathered near a corner talking hushedly to each other.

“Mother? Father?”

The pair turned to face their daughter with wild looks in their eyes. Merritt felt her stomach lurch as she realized whatever this was, it was not a good thing.

“Darling,” her father began as he walked over towards her. “We have some news that might seem a bit strange.”

Her mother sighed and walked to meet Merritt before her father had even reached her.

“You must go.”

“Go?” She was dumbfounded.

“Yes. You must leave Carida,” her mother responded sharply. Merritt noted a hint of emotion in her mother’s voice, something she’d only heard a few times in her lifetime.

“I don’t…what?” A small wave of panic began creeping over her, but she pushed it away with every bit of force she could muster.

“You must leave. And it must be tonight.”

Merritt could not for any reason begin to grasp what was happening here. Of all the things she expected to happen…this was not one of them. “Do I have no say in this?”

“You do not,” her father replied. “This is urgent and non-negotiable.”

“We’ve arranged passage for you off-world. You’ll need to be ready in the next few hours. We don’t have much time.”

“Stop.” Merritt took a deep breath before continuing. It was always so nerve-racking to speak to her parents, but it seemed even more daunting now. “What is going on?”

“Something’s happened with the Galactic Se—“ her father began until he realized he was being met with a harsh glare from the Senator.

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on. All you need to know is you’re leaving and your father will pass instructions to you later in the day.”

“Mother, I’m sure I can handle—“

“You. Are. LEAVING. There will be no discussion. That is final.” Her mother’s face had turned wholly red, the veins showing in her forehead and neck.

Merritt had learned a long time ago not to argue with the Senator. The outburst seemed callous at first, but she soon realized that hidden within the vitriol in her mother’s words, there was fear.

That fear did not soften Merritt’s feelings towards her mother at all. It was so characteristic of her to make demands with no discussion. Once, after a particularly difficult situation arose involving the family’s reputation, Merritt asked if she could be of any help. Her mother had not replied; but she’d overheard her later ranting that Merritt was “not capable” of bearing such heavy burdens.

Perhaps she was right.

And yet, here Merritt stood with what felt like the heaviest burden of all—the unknown. Her only ally, it appeared, was the frown on her face. She was on her own, she and that frown, now just as she had always been.

-

ORD MANTELL

Before the Batch could even settle in at Cid's, the Trandoshan was beckoning for Hunter to join her in the back.

The dimly-lit room was anything but welcoming on a good day. But now, when Hunter was desperate for a moment of downtime? It was even worse.

"Heard you almost died," Cid said nonchalantly. Hunter wasn't sure she was feigning the lack of sympathy.

"Been through worse. Nice of you to worry, though," he responded curtly as she took her usual seat.

"Well, I'm not quite ready to lose part of my top source of revenue yet," she shrugged, sifting through the items on her desk. "Besides, I've got a job for you."

Hunter sighed loudly as he started, "I think the squad needs to lay low for a bit."

Cid continued as if she didn't hear him. "Carida, planet that's been getting quite a bit of Imperial attention lately.” She activated a diagram from her holopad at the desk, showing the planet’s location in the Inner Rim. “The planet’s the site of a clone training facility that's been converted into an Imperial officer and trooper academy."

Hunter nodded quietly; he was familiar with Carida and the soldiers they produced. Why it was relevant to him, he hadn’t the slightest idea.

"Someone needs to be transported off-world, ASAP. Willing to pay a fortune," she grinned.

"Cid...the team's been through a lot lately. I'm not sure we're ready to engage in conflict with the Empire again just yet."

"Bandana, this is a quick extraction, easy score for you boys," she scoffed. "Details are on here," she explained as she tossed him a holodisc.

"No," Hunter said as he tossed the disc back towards her desk. "Not happening."

Before Cid could respond, a tiny voice piped up from the office's entrance. "What's not happening?"

Omega stepped in and sat on the arm of Hunter's chair.

“Tiny! Finally, someone with some sense. Dark and broody here’s rejecting a simple rescue mission I had for you all,” Cid said with a devious smirk. Hunter glared at her, knowing she’d used the right words.

“Rescue mission? Someone’s in trouble?” Omega’s eyes lit up; she looked to Hunter excitedly.

Before he could say anything, Cid made matters even worse by adding it was someone on an Imperial-occupied planet.

“Hunter, we have to go!” Omega exclaimed, beginning to tug on his arm.

“Omega,” he started slowly, “I just don’t know that the squad is ready for another mission just yet. There’s been…a lot that’s happened these last few days,” he finished.

She looked at him with a fierceness in her eyes, and he knew that was it. The kid was very persuasive and usually right…usually. “Hunter, we help people. Isn’t that what we do?” she asked firmly.

After a long pause and without looking away from Omega, Hunter spoke to Cid. “Just an extraction? This person is going to be ready for us…in and out, without any intense maneuvering?”

“Yup. And then we both reap a ton of credits. What could go wrong?” Cid smiled back with greed in her eyes.

Hunter sighed with a look back at Omega. He resolved to himself that this would be their last mission for a while, no matter what Cid bribed, or Omega pleaded. It wasn’t just that they needed rest; he was concerned his squad had been making far too much noise lately and needed to lay low for a while.

Perhaps one simple low-risk mission to provide them enough credits to relax for a long while wasn’t such a terrible plan.

“Alright, kid. Go round up the boys. Let’s make this quick.”

-

A/N: thank you for reading! After months of reworking, I am finally ready to begin sharing this TBB story. This is my first fic, so any tips or comments would be so helpful ❣️ I don’t know how to do a tag-list but if that’s something you’re interested in, please let me know!

-CC

[niobiumao3]

Clone Bang Sneak Peak

Hello all, this is Team 4 (@niobiumao3 and @flowerparrish) from Clone Bang 2023 with a sneak peak at our work which will be posted at the end of January 2024.

Begin Again

Rating: Teen/Gen (background relationships) No Archive Warnings Apply · Canon-Typical Violence Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, Mayday (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Phee Genoa Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair & Mayday (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair & Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair & Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), background Phee Genoa/Clone Trooper Tech Word Count: 22.1k

Summary Mayday survives at the end of The Outpost. This has a lot of implications for Crosshair, chief among them: what exactly do they do now?

Flee from the Empire, obviously. And if Crosshair continues to not examine his internal turmoil over letting Mayday think Clone Force 99 are all dead when Crosshair knows all too well that they’re alive, that’s Crosshair’s business and no one else’s.

Until their paths cross and it’s everyone’s business, that is.

~*~

This fic’s core idea came from this post by @cloned-eyes, which posits what would have happened if Mayday had survived and he and Crosshair bailed together but don’t rejoin the Batch immediately. I took that and rolled with it.

Podfic by @flowerparrish|ao3 Writing by @niobiumao3|ao3

~*~

[Podfic sneak peak]

On a sigh, Mayday admitted, “Wrong. We’re deserters anyways, I guess I can just say that. And even if the order was to execute them…why…” He hesitated, struggling. “They lead us for years. Didn’t that mean anything?”

Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?

Echo’s voice rang out in Crosshair’s mind. It had been like a warning bell to him back then; it was a relief to hear it now and know what it (hopefully) meant.

“No. Because of the chip.”

Mayday glanced up, eyes narrow. “What?”

“The inhibitor chip.” Crosshair tapped the spot on his head where the ion scarring remained. “Biotech implanted in us by the Kaminoans.”

Mayday went rigid. “Biotech.”

“It’s how they could ensure we’d follow any orders given.” Even horrific ones.

Mayday’s fingers tightened on his canteen, eyes scanning the floor in disbelief. “That—that can’t—” The denials were half-hearted at best, not even fully formed. Crosshair continued, undeterred.

“You said it yourself. Order 66 didn’t make sense. Why didn’t we arrest them? Why weren’t they put through due process?” Traitors don’t deserve due process, the chip would have assured him.

Mayday looked up at him, new understanding lighting his expression with horror. “You mean—you—”

Nausea threatened. Crosshair fought it down. “I tried to.”

“Tried.”

“He escaped.”

[skellymom]

thoughts on the new bad batch trailer?

(i saw it had come out thru @techs-goggles9902 and couldnt be bothered to watch it for hours and now i have im so excited)

~ Jamie <3

Heeeyyyy, @fionajames <3

I just posted a spoiler...looks like someone is back w/their brothers...*cough* Mosshair *cough*

Please take my analysis with a grain of salt as Disney can post flashback scenes, scenes that might look to be part of a whole sequence but are two separate/several ones to throw us off. Plus these is plenty that they AREN'T probably including in the trailer. Should be interesting if there will be a second trailer for S3.

I don't see too much serious evidence that outwardly points to Tech. HOWEVER, I do see two "maybe" possibilities in the trailer and they are both wearing helmets:

Timestamp 1:03, The "X" Clone Trooper shown in the second half of the trailer. Now I have seen one trooper who unalived himself in the last season w/Senator Chuchi and Rex, so we know there are clones still actively working for the Empire. And, if you look REALLY close, Timestamp 0:36, there are more X Clone Troopers in the trailer scene right before the one w/Omega getting scanned. It's a shot from the top of the room showing what looks like 3 X Clone Troopers and a droid. Could one of them be Tech? Don't know.

Timestamp 1:14, The scene with the Imperial armored soldier in the cockpit of his ship lifting his left arm up. Did Tech steal a stormtroopers armor to save his brothers? Remember Tech's "hand signal" callback to S1? Is he signaling to The Batch? Or, also in Tech fashion, is he flailing because of an explosion as Tech sometimes does? Or, is it just a random stormtrooper and not Tech?

Looks like we get Fennec, Rex, Echo, Phee, Howzer, Cad Bane, Ventress, Palpatine, and Scorch.

The scenes in the trailer that REALLY has me scratching my head:

Timestamp 0:28 shows an Imperial Transport ship crashed and smoldering on a large hill. Is it the same ship from Timestamp 1:07? Faraway shot of several figures walking away: The one at the top of the hill looks like Omega. There is a figure either rolling down the hill: Wrecker? Although, silly me who works with dogs...it almost looks like a dog running down the hill. And a figure at the bottom that I at first thought was Crosshair...but then it kinda looks like Rex with the shadowy person walking next to them on the other side. It looks like Phee's hair. Or did this ship only carry Omega as seen in Timestamp 1:23? Did she meet someone on the planet to help her hide? Someone with a dog (I just remember the wonderful scene with the space puppy licking Omega's face and how happy her laugh sounded)?

Timestamp 0:33 is that Crosshair in the left hand side of the screen walking calmly in the opposite direction (that everyone else is running)? Is he settling a score? Is that Clone Trooper "X" (possibly Tech?).

What does the "il" uniform patches on each side of Omega's shoulders mean. I checked the Aurebesh language keys online. Doesn't match up with anything.

Who is CX-1??? Timestamp 1:15. Boba Fett????

Timestamp 1:21, who is the dude in the white and grey armor??? Wait...OH SHIT...is THAT WOLFFE???

I DON'T trust Emerie. She's creepy. Sorry. Not all the clones are tight with one another. I worry she's in secretly with Hemlock.

Are Fennec and Cad Bane working with The Batch? Or against them? Is Ventress teaming up with The Batch against Palpatine? Or is she truly fighting them at the end? Or is that just two separate scenes meant to look like they go together?

And, something that makes me sad: Both Hunter and Wrecker look older, more aged. They are still so handsome. However, with the stress of what they have gone through, plus their advanced aging...well, how long do they have left? The still of Echo doesn't look like he aged at all. Could it be that he isn't as accelerated due to what the Techno Union did to him? Or were The Batch genetically altered to be so specialized...but live even shorter lives than the Regs?

[pearlsinmyhair]

༄ breath of venus ༄

chapter five ~ fight or flight

word count: 3.3k

warnings: cannon typical violence. venus teases people. mansk and venus content.

glossary:

Sì ha tsa’sngeykäʼi: ‘and so it begins’

previous | series masterlist | next

“i am half afraid to hope for what i long for.” - Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Mrs. A.P. Strong.

Since she could remember, Venus had always sought out the sky.

Why, she did not know. She lifted her face to the wind like it was a friend, allowing it to breathe air into her lungs. She reached for the clouds from day one.

It was one of the many reasons she had tamed an ikran so young. She wanted to fly.

And fly she did. With her mothers guidance, she became a fearsome aerial hunter, and she even grew up to lead the young hunters of her clan.

They were a band of six boys and herself, all well trained in flight and combat. As she flew on Rutxïryo through the Halelujah mountains, she wished for their presence.

Only silence greeted her ears as they glided between floating land and vines. It was eerie, but she was glad for the quiet. It meant no hunters were out today, no Omatikaya for the recombinant soldiers to see.

She wondered if they had scouted her flying amongst the mist. She had flown Rutxïryo in a ‘danger’ motion a few times to ward off any friendly confrontation.

All the while, she’d been keeping one ear cocked through Rutxïryo, waiting for the marines to eventually find her.

She had debated ripping out the tracker in her arm and flying to freedom, but she could tell that it was deep. Too deep to dig out without something sharp, and too deep to do without bleeding a large amount.

She had looked for seze’awkx anyway to no avail. Besides, she didn’t want them to somehow see her fly towards High Camp.

No, running was too much of a risk. If she stayed, she could lead them astray.

Before she could debate that choice more, Rutxïryo alerted her through the bond. They banked hard around a large mountain to see the group emerging from the trees.

She let out her call, and the soldiers looked up in a mixture of fear and recognition. Ja raised his hand in greeting as she circled above, and she nodded to him. The rest of them glared with varying degrees of heat.

A good lesson, then.

She urged Rutx to a cliff, and he hooked his fore-claws into the rock. She looped her knees over the stirrups and laid back against the saddle, hanging upside down to look at the recombinants.

She smiled. “How was your trip?”

Quaritch gave her a cold look. Wainfleet had the audacity to look disappointed. Z-dog removed a leaf from her hair. Prager scoffed. Lopez’s tail lashed. Mansk lowered his glasses to look at her.

She laughed. They had thought that their blue bodies granted them safety. She knew of the so-called immune response of Pandora. The soldiers may not have fallen victim to it, but they were still a part of the food chain.

Something in Quaritch’s eyes sobered her slightly. The rest of them were curious as to why she was here, back in their grasps. But Quaritch knew.

You’re loyal. And I respect loyalty, his words echoed in her head.

He had known that she wouldn’t remove the tracker. He knew that people relied on her keeping their home a secret. He was a soldier and a leader, so of course he understood that it was better for her to come back than to try and flee.

It irritated her to know end that he had read her so well.

She clicked at Rutxïryo in thanks as she disconnected the bond. She leapt from the saddle, landing on one of the roots to the floating mountains.

“Look alive” she said teasingly. “You have a long way to climb.”

Someone groaned.

༄

Quaritch paused as he reached a ledge in the cliff, taking a moment to breathe and check on his team.

“Too much, old man?” called the girl from above him.

He glared up at Venus, and she smirked.

“We can take a break if your back is hurting you. Or if you need a sip of water.” she offered mockingly.

“Can it.” he growled as he hauled his body up to her, and Venus waited until he stood next to her on the ledge. For all her mockery and jabs, she made sure that the soldiers behind her were still alive and climbing.

She had guided them through a well traveled route, reciting instructions as if she had said them hundreds of times. Maybe she had. They probably weren’t the first group she had taken to the rookery.

He glanced at her profile, noting how she didn’t seem to break a sweat. She glanced at him before shouting out to Lyle that he “shouldn’t grab that!”

He had told his squad about his relation to her when she flew away, and they had been respectful thus far. But now that he had claimed her as his daughter out loud to someone, it was more real.

Especially when he was starting to notice how similar they looked. The way Venus avoided meeting his eyes proved to him that she noticed it too.

When they all reached the ledge, Venus turned to the drop on the opposite side. She paused, and the recombinants looked at Quaritch in question when she suddenly leaped over open air to grab a vine.

A few of them shouted. Venus just reached up and started climbing.

“Well shit.” breathed Z. Quaritch agreed. He rolled his head to the side before following after the teenager.

It seemed like hours before they hoisted their bodies over a final ledge. They paused to breathe in the shade of a cave when they heard the squeals of ikran. Their ears flicked back as Venus took a step around the corner. She gestured for them to follow.

They rounded the corner to at least fifty ikran screaming and flapping. Most of them ignored their presence, but a few snarled at them or leapt from the cliffs.

They took up a position behind a fallen tree. Venus settled on top of it, and he reasoned that she didn’t need to worry when her ikran was near to protect her.

Lyle loaded a tranquilizer dart into the rifle. “I got this.” Quaritch said to him, taking the gun. As he took aim, Venus chuckled.

He looked away from the scope to her grinning face. “What?”

“Kids half my size do this with their bare hands. You’re really going to sedate her?”

Quaritch glanced at Lyle, and the corporal tilted his head.

Well?

“Sully do it the hard way?”

“What do you think?”

He let out a puff of air as he gave the gun back to Wainfleet. When he slipped over the log, he taped his shoulder with his tail.

Eyes up, we’re still in dangerous territory.

Venus’s eyes tracked him as he strode over to the beautiful turquoise and yellow ikran that had yowled at them. She was older, judging by her size, and impatient. She knew what he was here for. And he wasn’t getting it easily.

He hissed in her face, and she did it back. When she reached and snapped at him, he punched her solidly across the face.

Venus winced. It was a rather unusual approach, but it was working. He threw himself over her back, and she hissed, bucking and snapping at his flailing limbs.

“Did I mention you’re supposed to tie her mouth shut first?” she called.

“Thanks a lot kid!” he yelled back at her in a strained voice.

Wainfleet and the others looked at her uneasily. “Oh, he’ll be fine.” she assured them half heartedly. Right as he dropped over the side with a distant “woohoo!”

She and the squad rushed forward to the edge. Venus peered over the ridge right as Quaritch disappeared.

Wainfleet caught her arm loosely, preventing her from falling forward. She used his grip as leverage to lean even more.

When nothing emerged from the clouds, Wainfleet called it.

“Alright, let’s go. Oscar Mike.”

Venus didn’t move.

“C’mon kid.” he called. When she still didn’t step away from the ledge, he took a step next to her. “He’s down there.” she told him. “I’ve seen far worse.”

Lyle shook his head and stepped away once more, patting Ja’s shoulder as he walked past.

A rush of wings blew wind into her face as Quaritch rose riding his ikran.

“That’s right!” the colonel yelled as he hovered only a few feet above Venus. He looked down at her, a grin on his face.

She tilted her head to the side before she nodded.

Well done.

Venus was slightly impressed, but a pit formed in her stomach as soon as Quaritch landed. She swallowed in an attempt to dismiss it, but her gut churned.

This is wrong. This is very wrong.

Something about the recombs being able to tame ikran made the possibility of teaching them more plausible, but the look in their eyes hurt her. Like the ikran were nothing more than mounts, nothing more than something to be commanded.

Like all of Pandora, the soldiers only saw them as subservient beings to bend to their will. And Venus worried that nothing could change the way they perceived the world around them.

But she had to try.

༄

Just like when they walked, the recombinants flying was slow. Wonky and unbalanced, they nearly fell off of their ikran multiple times. Venus had resigned herself to flying above the group so that she wouldn’t get bumped.

Quaritch was the most composed, but he was terrible at the partnership part of the bond. His mount bucked against him, with both mind and body, as he forced her to fly. Forced. He yanked at her limbs and pushed his weight harshly as if she were a machine. She had tried to correct it, but he had ignored her.

So Venus bit her lip and prayed that the she-banshee would lose her patience and throw her rider into a cliff.

Surprisingly, it was Lopez who first got the hang of it. He held his ikran lightly, and the male seemed to like his rider. She guessed that the marine had ridden a horse in his past life and understood the importance of a gentle touch.

She shifted on Rutx, and her ikran moved to fly under Lopez’s. The marine looked over his ikran’s shoulder at her, raising a brow. In response, she zipped up in front of his mount, causing them to halt midair. Rutx was snapped at, and Venus got a firm glare from Lopez.

But she didn’t miss the mischievous glint in his eye, nor the quirk of his mouth.

He knew what challenge she had given him.

They raced away from the group, diving down cliffs and gliding through waterfalls. Quaritch’s irritated voice commanded them to return, but Venus answered. “He’s making sure I get back!”

Venus and Rutxïryo soared into a backflip, arching so that Venus hung upside down for a moment before they returned to a stable position. Behind her, Lopez hissed.

She turned sharply to see him nearly lose his balance. In an instant, she and Rutx were beside the newly bonded rider and mount. Rutxïryo steadied the other ikran with a wing, and Venus reached for Lopez.

When they were both steady, Venus glided away. She shoved down the worried knot in her stomach.

Lopez gave her a small nod of thanks as they returned to the group. She flew to her spot above Quaritch, and Lyle watched her over his shoulder.

Lyle Wainfleet was not a stupid man. Loud? Yes. Obnoxious? Of course. But he knew many things just from watching. He was a good reader, and Venus avoided looking at him for it.

Lyle saw how her body stiffened, how her shoulders hunched. But she didn’t want him to see what emotions her body was mirroring.

Around her flew eight recombinant soldiers, resurrected marines that had fought against her parents for the right to destroy her home. They rode on eight ikran, symbols of Pandora and indicative of their status as one of the People. It was an honor that none of them were worthy of. And she had led them to it.

She felt ashamed. She felt like a traitor.

She should never have brought them here.

༄

They returned to Bridgehead for saddles and supplies. Rutxïryo tittered anxiously, and Venus kept a hand on his neck the whole time to calm him. All around them, humans worked on machines and guns. It was too loud and too quiet. There was no home here, no resemblance to the forest which had once grown under the tarmac.

They landed and dismounted. A few soldiers rushed forwards with harnesses and muzzles, and Mansk’s ikran snapped at one.

It all happened in a flash. The soldier let out a shout, and another turned on his tazer and shocked the female banshee. She screamed and fell down, not used to the powerful electricity. Rutxïryo bounded towards them, hissing and spitting with rage he had only ever shown when Venus was injured. He stood over Mansk’s ikran and screamed at the soldiers.

The recombinants shouted for the soldiers to hold fire as Mansk and Venus rushed forward. Rutxïryo allowed Venus close, but he screamed again when Mansk tried to get near his own mount.

Venus paused as the soldier with the tazer backed away from the four of them.

There was only one reason that Rutxïryo would be so protective of another ikran.

Her thoughts were quick. He was at least ten, as he had been young when she tamed him. He was big, so he would have no problem commanding territory and hunting. And he knew Venus, so he didn’t worry about letting her near.

But Mansk was unknown.

She watched as Rutx nuzzled the female ikran’s beak.

By Eywa.

She gestured for Mansk to come closer, and when he did she touched his hand. He looked at her in surprise.

“I need him to know you’re not a threat.” she explained. “And the easiest way to do that is by allowing you to touch me.”

Mansk nodded, though she could still tell he was hesitant. She reached up and took off his shades, tucking them into her top. She could feel the squad looking at them, and it made the back of her neck prickle.

“Why would I be a threat?” he asked as he took her hand. She led him to the ikran as she replied.

“He does not know you, and he’s worried that you’ll hurt her. Because your banshee is mine’s mate.”

Mansk blinked at that but chose not to reveal any thoughts he had on the matter.

Rutxïryo performed the ikran form of glaring as they approached, and Venus raised the hand that was intertwined with Mansk’s. He leaned forward to sniff at him, breathing the scent of the marine beside her in. He snorted, most likely from the smell of RDA soap, and pulled back.

“Now your turn.” she said to Mansk.

He brought her hand down to his own ikran, and the female touched her chest with her snout. Evidently she approved, because she squawked at Rutxïryo, and the male ikran moved from standing over her.

She let go of Mansk’s hand as he knelt to examine his mount for any wound. She stroked at Rutxïryo’s neck, and he bent down to coo at her.

I’m sorry.

She shoved his nose playfully.

Don’t be.

When Mansk stood, the two ikran walked to the others. Quaritch’s snapped at Rutx, and he hissed at her.

The squad looked at them with raised eyebrows and smirks as they rejoined the group. Quaritch glared before he turned and led them into the belly of Bridgehead.

༄

Venus leaned against the wall of the control center, quiet and observant as Quaritch and Ardmore discussed the traveling path that she and the rest of Deja-Blu would go on.

She had nearly cackled at the name of the squad when Ardmore first said it. It was comical, really. It belonged in one of the cartoons that Norm had shown her and the kids years ago.

She had zoned out of the conversation long ago. It seemed that Ardmore wanted her there just to make her feel uncomfortable, but the employees of the RDA that ran the room around her did little to frighten her. She had moved out of their way, watching as they flit around on their quick human legs. A small woman had tripped over her tail, nearly falling and splashing coffee on the floor.

Venus had caught her easily, and the woman had looked surprised when she had apologized. It was amazing just how oblivious these people were. Just like human Quaritch had, Ardmore utilized the overall lack of information of Pandora and the Na’vi to paint the world as hostile and savage. Pandora wasn’t kind, Venus conceded, but it wasn’t the hellscape that RDA propaganda claimed it was.

Even though Venus was tall, standing at 8’5”, the lofted ceilings meant that she could stand comfortably. Ardmore’s plan to make her feel alien failed in that aspect.

She tuned back into the conversation when she heard Ardmore say “Tawkami.”

Her mind instantly flooded with memories. Of a boy, of friends, of a distant clan whom she hadn’t heard of for sometime.

The plan was simple: they’d fly to them first. They were peaceful, and the RDA had made connections with them when their trade routes overlapped. It would be a long trip, but it had an easy resolution.

“It’ll be the first step to smoking Jake out” Ardmore claimed.

Ardmore dismissed Quaritch, and the man turned to Venus.

“Girl” Ardmore said right as Quaritch’s hand closed around her shoulder. “I have given orders to every single recombinant soldier to shoot you down if you pull a stunt like what you did today. You are a hostage and a prisoner, not a child being babysat.”

Venus glanced at Quaritch. He was turned away from Ardmore, and he dared to meet her eyes. The look on his face told her that Ardmore’s words were true, and the small wince told her that Quaritch had been told off for Venus’s so called ‘stunt’.

Do not fight her.

Venus narrowed her eyes at him before she looked back at the General.

“Noted, ma’am.” she said simply, before she turned and walked with Quaritch out the door.

༄

By the time they returned outside, it was already dark. The squad gathered around them, changed and showered. Zdog popped a new piece of gum. When she saw Venus looking, she offered her a piece. The girl took it gingerly, popping it into her mouth. She winced at the sweetness, her mouth not used to the taste of human sugar. But she was thankful anyway.

“We’re flying at night?” asked Venus as they mounted up.

“Yup. Tight formation and clear sights. It’s gonna be an all-nighter.” Z explained to her.

Many of the marines had changed into more travel appropriate clothes. Mansk, she noted, had removed his long sleeve top in exchange for a high-necked tank like the one Prager wore. She also realized that none of the squad had worn boots.

Venus sighed as she connected to Rutxïryo, letting him stretch his legs one last time before they rose into the night sky, the glow of Polyphemus lighting their faces.

Sì ha tsa’sngeykäʼi.

why is the tawkami clan important, you may ask? you might want to re-read chapter 0.5. there’s a certain someone who will make a reappearance later on.

here’s what i learned from my rest period - not every chapter needs to have a huge event in it. i have multiple very important plot points that i’ll hit, but i don’t want to rush through them. this story takes place over the span of months of travel, so i want to really flesh out just normal activity. this means that not every single chapter will be action filled. forcing myself to write thoroughly is hard, and learning to not rush is harder.

venus has been in my head for months, and i want to do her and her story justice.

i love you all, and thank you for all your love and support ♡.

taglist:

@xstarsmvxz @lisedanie @avatar4eva

[thewidowsghost]

Hello, Kaitlynn. I have a Skye/Daisy X reader request.

Reader is a lot like May and has taken a liking to Skye, Reader overhears the team talking about Skye (after she gets her powers) and she defends Skye. (Skye being there to hear what she says.)

Defense (Dais x Barton!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Daisy Johnson Masterlist

Glass shatters over Skye and (Y/n)’s heads.

(Y/n) grabs her girlfriend’s hand, pulling her along.

Skye’s hands tremble, and (Y/n) leads her down one of the staircases into a dungeon like Ward’s.

(Y/n) sits Skye down on one of the beds.

“Honey, you can do this,” (Y/n) brushes a tear from Skye’s cheek as the room continues to shake. “We can do this. I believe in you.”

“I can’t,” Skye whispers. “I can’t ma-ake it stop,” Skye’s voice breaks, more tears running down her face. “Everyone is at risk.

“Honey, look at me,” (Y/n) says, moving to sit on the bed beside her lover. “Focus,” she takes Skye’s hands, brushing the tops gently with her thumbs.

“Yes, you can,” (Y/n) turns her back on her girlfriend for a moment as a sword is stabbed through the barrier (Y/n) had just put up.

“Agent Barton,” Sif yells through the barrier. “Release the girl.”

“Like hell,” (Y/n) replies.

“(Y/n), she’ll get through!” Skye says, meeting her lover’s eyes with wide eyes.

“Ignore it,” (Y/n) tells Skye, though her voice was gentle. “Remember, focus.”

The barrier breaks, and Sif steps through.

In a quick motion, Skye leans forward, grabbing (Y/n)’s ICER from her belt, shooting herself in the chest.

The quaking stops and (Y/n) tears her gaze away from Sif.

Forgetting the Asguardian, (Y/n) lunges at the bed, tapping Skye’s cheeks with a hand.

“Skye!” (Y/n) leans over her lover’s body, pulling Skye’s head into her lap. Tears fall down onto Skye’s cheeks as (Y/n) runs her fingers through Skye’s hair.

“She harmed herself,” Sif says, but (Y/n) doesn’t respond, too focused on Skye.

Coulson and May charge down the stairs.

“Even though she knew it meant giving up her freedom,” Coulson says, stepping up to Sif.

“All to save the rest of you,” Sif finishes, her gaze falling back on (Y/n) and Skye.

“Don’t you see? She wants to get better,” Coulson tells Sif.

May walks over to the bed, resting a comforting hand on (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“If you take Skye away from the people she loves,” Coulson goes on, “she’ll only get worse.”

. . .

(Y/n) is walking from Skye’s hospital bed to their shared room when she hears voices.

The remainder of the SHIELD team is cleaning up the glass while Coulson and May take Vin-Tak and Lady Sift to a place where Lady Sif can summon the Bifrost.

"Jemma . . ." Fitz begins. "Um . . . I know you feel that I could have been, uh . . . a bit more forthright -" Fitz pauses.

Jemma chuckles sarcastically, "Forthright. Fitz, as understatements go I think that qualifies as an instant classic. You lied to me."

"Okay, so now we're even," Fitz replies, putting his hands on his hips. "Could you blame me, the way you were going on about Raina, that she's a-a-a plague to be eradicated?" Fitz questions. "I -"

"Skye is my friend. She’s different," Simmons retorts.

"Oh, yeah. Like I was your friend, and then I changed?" Fitz asks. "How did you handle that?"

By this point, the two had caught the attention of Mack, Bobbi, and Hunter, and (Y/n)’s eyes had glued themselves to the scene in front of her.

"Uh, t-the point is, secrets don't help any of us," Mack says. "Y/n) and Skye should have come clean," he says.

"What, and risk being locked up like animals?" Fitz asks. "Studied? Or who knows what else? No, I wouldn't let either of them."

"Oh, you wouldn't let them," Jemma asks.

"We could have handled them," Mack says. "In a way that would have kept everyone safe."

"It wasn't fair to us, Fitz," Bobbi says softly. "We had a right to know."

"A right to know," Fitz echoes. "What - is that the same way that Sif and the Kree had a right to know?"

"I think this situation's a little bit different, mate," Hunter responds.

"No, you would have done to them exactly what Sif and the Kree wanted to," Fitz argues.

"You don't know that," Simmons says.

"Yes, I do know that!" Fitz yells. "They would - You would - You'd 'handle them'! Mack just said it! Like, uh - Skye is something to be locked away in a cage somewhere. We should be protecting her."

"No, Fitz," Mack interrupts. "We're the ones that need protection from her." Then Mack goes silent, looking over Simmons's shoulder to meet (Y/n)’s eyes.

“You do understand that she shot herself to protect us?” (Y/n)’s voice was deathly quiet, though there was no doubt that the others could hear her.

“It was only an ICER.” Simmons replies and (Y/n) lets out a laugh, and the other’s wince at the slight hysteria in the sound.

“What if Skye hadn’t known it was an ICER?” (Y/n) says, her words taking on a harsh tone. “What if it had been an actual gun? She shot herself in the -” (Y/n)’s words break as she sucks in a breath of air. “She shot herself in the heart. If that had been a real gun, she would’ve -” her voice breaks again.

Mack, Bobbi, and Hunter’s gazes fall on something behind (Y/n), and the higher level agent turns, meeting her girlfriend’s watery gaze.

Skye looks so hurt, so betrayed that (Y/n) almost doesn’t follow. Then (Y/n) metaphorically kicks herself, knowing that her lover wasn’t mad at her.

Word Count: 965 words

[generic-ghost-ghoul]

The Younger Brother

I’ve spent too long editing and being nervous about publishing this little fic, so here I am posting it on Sniper Sunday!

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Angst

Pairing: None

Summary: Omega needs an older brother, but all she has is Crosshair.

Crosshair hadn’t had a childhood. Not a proper one, at any rate. He doesn’t have the firsthand experience to know how children are supposed to be treated. How they’re meant to be handled during times of hardship and anguish. Crosshair doesn’t know because he was never treated as anything other than a tool to be sharpened and used.

But he does have an innate sense that what is happening in this moment is wrong. A child should not be in the position that she is in. He knows, on some very adult level, that he needs to be the mature grown up here; that Omega needs an older brother to provide support and stability in this untenable situation they’ve both found themselves in.

Crosshair is the adult. He is the older brother.

But he is also the child that he was six years ago on Kamino. He is the child who, along with his unit, was ostracized by other clones and ruthlessly experimented on by the Kaminoans. He is the child who sat up late into the night and watched the door while his batch mates slept, waiting to alert them to any approaching scientists or trainers. He is the child who desperately craved affection from his squad, but never knew how to ask for it.  

Crosshair should be the adult. Instead he is the disbelieving child who asks Omega to say it again.

“Tech is dead.”

He knows it’s cruel to make her repeat herself. He knows he’s young, in spite of the accelerated aging, but as small as he feels, he knows Omega really is a child. She is a child who has lost a brother.

Then again, so is he.

“What happened?”

He watches as Omega’s eyes gleam from unshed tears and her lip wobbles. He shouldn’t ask her. It’s not fair to her. He waits for her answer anyway.

“Tech found out you’d been taken into the Empire’s custody and Echo found a lead on Hemlock, so we followed it so we could find you.” She catches a small sob in her throat. “Tech wanted to find you. You’re his brother.”

Crosshair’s brain buzzes loudly and everything stops for a moment.

Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.

“The mission went sideways and we got caught on a railcar in the mountains of Eriadu. There was no power. Tech got it working again, but there were Imperial ships. They shot at us. Tech sacrificed himself to get the rest of us to safety.”

Tears were falling freely down Omega’s cheeks. Crosshair knows, on some level, that he should comfort her, but he doesn’t even know where to begin. He stares wide eyed, not really seeing her. She’s a child. He should comfort her. He’s the adult.

But he is also the child he was six years ago on Kamino. He is the child who has been desperately missing his batch since the Clone War ended and they left him behind. He is the child who has lashed out at his former team in a poor attempt at making them see his side. He is the child who has sat, alone, with his fury and hurt for months. He is the child who just lost his brother.

Crosshair looks away from Omega and squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back the rising nausea. He’d never had a childhood, not a proper one. But he was a child once. He takes his time, remembering the moments from Kamino with his brothers. He remembers sitting up late into the night, keeping watch over his exhausted brothers. He remembers keeping his distance from them, because he could protect them better if he had the whole picture. He remembers their backs in front of him in training, on the field of battle. He remembers being so far away from them.

But he also remembers Wrecker loudly announcing that he was going to compete with Crosshair to see which of them could take out more droids, keeping Crosshair involved in the games the largest of the Bad Batch loved to play. He remembers Hunter waking and quietly talking with him through those long nights as he watched the doors of their quarters, making sure Crosshair wasn’t alone through the lonely nights on Kamino. He remembers Tech seeking him out, datapad in hand, to share newly acquired knowledge, ensuring that Crosshair felt included in his interests and stayed informed of any mission relevant information.

He takes his time to remember when he was a child. He takes a steadying breath and, when his eyes open, the child he was is gone. In his place is the adult with all the strength and resilience needed to survive the loss of his older brother.

The child Crosshair was is gone. In his place is the older brother Omega needs him to be.

[like-a-bantha]

Human Nature

Pairing: The Bad Batch & GN!Reader (platonic, no Y/N, reader's appearance never described)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Chronic hiccups, mentions of anxiety, canon typical violence (Set during The Clone Wars)

Read on AO3

This has been happening ever since you were a kid. Pretty frequently, too. It’s easy to grow used to something the longer it goes on, as annoying as it is, especially something so unavoidable. Still, sometimes, and especially in such confined spaces, you feel a pang of guilt bubble up behind every-

Hiccup!

The force of it drives your shoulders up before they fall heavily to a slouch as you sigh. You shut your eyes, hoping that the squad you’ve been accompanying for the past month isn’t currently typing up a request for a much quieter weapons expert. They’ve all been polite about it so far –  to your face, at least – but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t catch the Sergeant, Hunter, quietly leave the room from time to time.

Thankfully, you’re much quieter than usual as the members of Clone Force 99 converse around you and the Havoc Marauder cruises through hyperspace. Another small hiccup rocks your shoulders as you review the schematics of the Separatist base on your datapad and draws the attention of the 99’s gentle giant, Wrecker.

He breaks away from a conversation with Echo rather abruptly to ask you, yet again, “Hey, want me to scare ya?”

It doesn’t help your hiccups, but it does put a smile on your face. “We both know that doesn’t work, man, but you can give it a shot,” your laugh is interrupted by another hiccup, a tired grin taking over your face with a sigh. Wrecker returns your lopsided smile and nods, turning to Echo to continue their conversation. Your gaze returns to the datapad in your hands. Just as you’re ready to get back to planning the next phase of your attack, Wrecker stops mid sentence, he jumps in front of where you sit with a loud boo! eagerly awaiting your reaction. You look up from your datapad, not wanting to break the big guy’s heart, you put on your best scared face and pray your body doesn’t betray you. Of course, after a few seconds of clutching your chest in mock fear, you let out a loud, cartoonish hiccup and his shoulders sag in defeat. You let out a sad little laugh and a gentle, “Sorry, Wrecker.”

Wrecker only nods, before returning to his conversation with Echo in earnest this time, dejectedly plopping down in the seat beside his brother. Echo laughs, patting Wrecker’s shoulder, “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

You sink further into your seat and try to focus on your datapad, most of the time it's a distraction that really helps. It’s not long before Hunter emerges from the other end of the ship to go over plans for the next mission as Tech pulls the ship out of hyperspace and descends upon the planet below. Thankfully, your hiccups subside at some point during the briefing. Just in time, too; you’ll be teaming up with Hunter, who will provide cover for you to download Separatist weapon blueprints while Tech wipes them from the database. As soon as the ship touches down, the three of you make your way to the command center.

It’s almost too easy. Tech did predict there would be a shocking lack of battle droids at this base, you just didn’t think he really meant it so literally. Wrecker will surely be upset; his distraction won’t even be necessary. You turn a corner and easily take out two droids patrolling the hall before Echo comms in, already in position at and hacked into the security system.

“Hunter, you’ve got a clear path to the command center, this place is deserted,” the suspicion in Echo’s voice is evident and you don’t blame him. Still, you pick up the pace, if the Seppies are planning something it’d be best to make this quick. Echo opens the door of the command center just as you approach, revealing a handful of confused battle droids.

After a brief firefight, you and Tech make your way over to the main computer. He’s already plugging his datapad into their system, not looking up as he remarks, “There should be a tactical droid present, this is most likely a trap.”

“Well then we should hurry it up,” Hunter has his blaster at the ready, keeping watch while you scroll through the files Tech is rapidly decrypting from his datapad, “you find those blueprints yet?”

“Almo- hiccup” it’s like your body knows the worst possible time for them it almost feels personal sometimes, like the Force is punishing you. You’re quick to shake it off, too focused on the task at hand to even finish your sentence. Seconds later you find the files, quickly downloading them to a datastick, “Got them.”

Tech is already deleting the files from the database as you stash the datastick in your tool belt. Just as Tech untethered his datapad from the computer and drew his blaster, Hunter holds up a hand, silently signaling incoming. As if reading your mind, Echo comes through the comms, “Rollies headed towards you from the north hallway. About a dozen battle droids from the south.” You choke down a hiccup, trying to remain as silent as possible, and ready your weapon. Hunter shoots you a look before peering into the hallway, he makes a few gestures with his hand, of which you only understand half: cover, shoot, run. Hiccup.

Tech passes you two droid poppers and you both get into position, ready to attack the north hallway while Hunter takes the south. The rolling gets progressively louder before stopping a few feet from the door, waiting for unsuspecting thieves to run out. Instead they’re met with two perfectly aimed shots before Hunter bolts out, vibroblade in hand, drawing their haphazard fire towards the battle droids approaching from the south. You follow his lead, tossing a droid popper into the third droideka’s forcefield with practiced ease and drawing the remaining droid’s fire as its comrade falls at its side. Tech covers you as you wind up to toss the last droid popper, but, of course, just as it’s leaving your hand hiccup.

The droid popper veers to the left, rolling too fast, even if your aim was unaffected the velocity was not. You reach for your utility belt for another droid popper but Tech only handed you two. You shouldn’t have needed more than two. In a panic, you open fire on the massive droid knowing you’re not doing any damage, but keeping it’s focus on you rather than Tech. You glance behind you and there’s no sign of Hunter, on your left Tech is rolling another droid popper into the droideka’s forcefield.

Hiccup. It lets out one final shot before falling to the ground and for a second you forgot it’s focus was on you, not Tech, and you were the one that was supposed to be dodging its attack. The bolt grazes your arm, searing your plastoid armor. Hiccup.

“Well that coulda gone worse,” you laugh anxiously, turning to Tech with wide eyes.

His expression almost matches yours, “Indeed.”

You shrug before you both begin your dash down the south hallway to regroup with Hunter.

Back aboard the Marauder, Crosshair cleans his unused rifle while Wrecker complains that he didn’t get to use the new explosives you’d given him but it doesn’t seem like the sniper is paying too much attention to his brother's frustration. You review the blueprints with Tech and Echo, discussing the likelihood of the Separatists replicating the blueprints from scratch before the Republic can build and distribute the weapon. Highly improbable, according to Tech. You silently wonder where Hunter’s gone, it’s not that big a ship and your hiccups have subsided for now. Once again, as if hearing your thoughts, Echo gets up to look for the Sergeant.

Tech reads through a few other files he managed to download from the database while you stare blankly through the viewport, the swirl of hyperspace casting a blue glow over your furrowed brows.

“Thanks,” you finally pipe up, your eyes locked on the viewport, Tech glances up from his datapad, “I, uh, I’m not usually so helpless when I have them. Don’t really know what happened. But thanks.”

“It is human nature. Both singultus and the urge to save those close to you,” Tech’s gaze returns to his datapad as you hear footsteps enter the cockpit behind you, “your gratitude is unnecessary but appreciated.”

“Cool.” You smile, glancing to your left as Hunter takes the seat next to you.

“There are many causes of hiccups, I assume the main factor, in your case, is general anxiety.” Tech states plainly. You look over to him with a scoff, but his attention is now fully focused on the datapad.

“He’s right.” Hunter finally says and you redirect your shocked look from his brother to him.

“No- Anxiety? I’m not anxious,” Hunter shakes his head, and it almost looks like he’s smiling, “if that were true then Wrecker would be able to scare them away. It’d, like, cancel it out. I’m just a medical anomaly.” You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head.

To that remark and your incredulous look, Hunter actually laughs. You’re vaguely positive you hear a quiet chuckle from Tech, too, but you’re too busy looking deeply offended to know for sure. Hunter shakes his head, “Well, heightened senses never lie. Your heart rate is out of control when you get them.”

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your gloves, before you say, quietly and in disbelief, “So you’ve been avoiding me because of my heart rate? Not the hiccups?”

“It’s both.” Tech interjects.

“Great.” You scoff.

Hunter kicks the back of Tech’s seat, “Like I said, heightened senses. Sometimes, before a mission, it’s too much so I go find someplace quiet. Nothing personal.” You nod, sights still locked on your hands. “But,” that draws your attention, “if you’re feeling anxious, just tell us. We all understand.”

“Precisely,” Tech turns to look at you, “human nature.”

Hunter nods, “And I don’t want to see any more of this,” he points towards the burnt plastoid of your rerebrace, “talk to us. Understood?”

You look at the scorch in your armor then to the clones in front of you, the furrow in your brow softening to a smile as you nod, “Copy that.”

It's been almost a week since that mission and you haven’t had the hiccups once.

A/N: Busted Hyperdrive chapter 3 is on its way!! This is short and silly but it came to me in a dream so I just had to write it. I've always had violent hiccup attacks so this was a fun thought experiment. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to let me know what you think! <3

[notgonnaedit]

Healer's Hands

Chapter 8: A Distant Echo

Master list

Back at the Republic base on Anaxes, Hunter, Althea, Rex, and Jedi General Anakin Skywalker discussed their new mission. The plan was to travel to Skako Minor, and find the live signal emitting from the capitol, Purkoll. "Word is the general staff isn't completely behind this mission." Said Hunter.

"I admit the idea of Echo being alive is still a long shot." Rex said.

General Skywalker folded his arms in a relaxed way. "I'm sure the Council will approve the mission. Just remember the primary goal is to learn how the Separatists are predicting our strategy, whether it's Echo behind it or not."

Hunter hummed in thought. "Well, if you want my opinion, sounds like a trap, but me and the boys will tag along anyway, if only to say 'I told you so'." He smiled at the end, Althea doing the same. Sure, they were a rough bunch, but they still meant well.

Skywalker nodded. "Just make sure you're ready if we get the go-ahead from General Kenobi."

"If you're certain he'll approve the mission, why wait?" Rex asked with vigor. "Let's get going."

Skywalker gave him a look. "First, we have that 'thing' to do."

"Uh, what thing?" Rex asked.

"You know."

Rex glanced at Hunter and Althea. "We don't have time for that, sir."

Skywalker raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we do."

Althea and Hunter shared a look. "Well, we'll just let you two sort this out." The sergeant said backing away. "We'll be waiting on the ship with the rest of the team." They walked away toward the Marauder, both confused as to what they just witnessed.

"Regs are weird." Althea said. "And the Jedi too."

Hunter chuckled. "Now you're getting it, kiddo."

"I've gotten it for a long time." Althea retorted. "I just haven't seen it as much as you have." She bumped him lightly as they walked. Hunter chuckled again and ruffled her hair. It wasn't uncommon among clones to show physical affection, but for the Bad Batch it was their main form of communication. More could be said with a simple nod than with a speech. There were often days on the ​​​​​​Marauder when no one uttered a word, but everyone understood each other. It was one of Althea's favorite part of the squad, though it did take some getting used to at first. But now, the young medic was a master at deciphering the difference between Wrecker's playful and angry shoves, or Hunter's stares of either judgement or being "in the zone".

                      •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Aboard the Havoc Marauder, the Bad Batch, Rex, and General Skywalker prepared for their mission. Tech piloted the ship calmly, while Wrecker lifted their gonk droid, Gonky, and ate some sort of avian wing. Skywalker inspected Crosshair's rifle, with careful supervision by the sniper. Althea prepped her med bag, and Hunter tapped at the controls of one of the monitors. "So," General Skywalker said as he handed Crosshair back his rifle. "How many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?"

Hunter leaned against the wall of the ship. "Honestly, sir, I've lost count. All the action sort of blurs together."

"I know you work with Cody sometimes," Said Rex. "But who do you guys report to?"

Hunter rubbed his chin. "Hmm...good question. Can't say I've got an answer."

Wrecker took a bite out of his food. "Yeah!"

Suddenly, the ship shuddered and everyone aboard fumbled to find their balance. "We are approaching Skako Minor." Tech said from the cockpit. "It looks to be a difficult landing."

An alarm started to go off, and Wrecker set down Gonky to help Tech land. The rest of them buckled down in the crash seats, strapping themselves tightly as to not be thrown around. Luckily, Tech was an incredible pilot and landed them safely on the surface of Skako Minor.

The team moved to the cockpit to see where they were, but all that was visible was clouds of yellow dust. "Rex, what do we know about this place?" Skywalker asked his captain.

Rex looked out the windows. "On this part of Skako, there's a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is they're very primitive."

"Primitive is being kind." Tech added. 

Althea shook her head. "Tech, you said my people were primitive. You have a very low bar for what primitive is."

Tech shrugged. "My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles."

That's fair. Althea thought. Then suddenly, a creature landed on the ship, screeching and moving out of their sight. Wrecker leaned forward to try and see it. "Oh! What the heck was that?!"

"It's one of those reptiles." Said Tech.

"I want that thing off my ship." Hunter growled. He slipped his helmet on and moved to go outside, but Rex tried to stop him.

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't just run out there."

They didn't listen. The Bad Batch ran out, Rex and Skywalker on their heels. On the Marauder was a reptile with large wings. Atop that, was what seemed to be a Poletec glaring down at them. "Hey!" Wrecker yelled at him. "Get off of there!"

"Hey, calm down." Skywalker said, despite the lightsaber in his had. "We need to talk to them."

"Why?" Hunter asked. He really hated it when something messed with his ship.

"The General's right." Said Rex. 

Then, out of left field came three more of the creatures with Poletecs on their backs. "Look out, Rex!" Skywalker shoved Rex out of the way as the creatures made their pass. They swooped around again, this time grabbing the General and flying away with him. The others shot at them, but they were to far. 

Tech lowered his visor. "I have a thermal reading." He pointed to where the Poletecs took Skywalker. "Point-2-5 east, elevation 175."

Crosshair changed the barrel of his rifle. "Relax. I'll handle this." He rested the barrel on Tech's shoulder for more stability, then shot a cable. He handed Hunter the end of the cable.

"What are you doing?" Asked Rex.

Hunter clipped the end to his waist. "Going for a ride." And with that, the creature pulled him away. Althea rolled her eyes. Of course Hunter would take off like that. It was only earlier that Crosshair said that he couldn't do something like that. It wasn't too long before Hunter checked in. "Tech, I'm with the General. Hone in on my signal."

                •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Tech landed the Marauder not far from Hunter. The sergeant was crouched on the ridge observing the Poletecs. The others ran up to him, blasters ready. "That creature still has a hold of the General." He said.

Rex nodded. "We're going in, but remember what the General said. No casualties, disarm only."

"We're on it, Captain." Hunter turned to his squad. "Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide!" He, Tech, Althea, and Rex slid down the slope, blasting the weapons the Poletecs held. Crosshair shot the creature's leg, freeing General Skywalker while Wrecker shoved a boulder down, dispersing the Poletecs. One of them who seemed to be the leader walked up to them and spoke in his native tongue.

"Tech, translate what he said." Hunter ordered. 

Tech pulled down his visor. He used the audio of the Poletecs to translate to galactic basic. "He's says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader."

Skywalker's eyes softened. "We didn't bring the war here. It was Wat Tambor and the Separatists."

Tech translated, and the leader seemed to be less hostile. Rex took a step forward. "Tell him we apologize for what's happened. But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll. As soon as we rescue him, we'll leave his planet for good."

The chief leaned down and looked at Tech closely. Probably out of curiosity. He then turned to Anakin and spoke, which Tech translated again. "The chief says he will provide us with scouts and lead us to Tambor's city. From there, we're on our own."

"Any help is better than no help." Said Skywalker with a small smile.

A little while later, the team was led up a jagged mountain by two scouts. When they reached the cliffside summit, they pointed to the city in the murky distance before leaving. "Hope nobody's scared if heights." Skywalker said. 

The entirety of the Bad Batch turned to Wrecker. "Well, I'm not scared of nothing." Said the demo man. "I just... When I'm up real high, I got a problem with gravity." Everyone knew that Wrecker was terrified of heights, but they let it slide so he could save face.

Tech tapped his gauntlet, a special part of his armor with technology inside. "Speaking of problems, I am no longer picking up Echo's signal."

Rex turned to him. "I...I don't understand. "You said it was coming from this city."

"I can only speculate, but it is possible there's a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances." Tech took it his datapad and walked away in search of a better signal.

"Or...maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap." Hunter suggested. "And maybe your friend's actually dead."

Althea looked up at him in disgust. And though only the upper part of her face was shown, it was clear how she felt. Hunter looked at her. "Well, I can't be the only one thinking of that."

Althea scoffed as Rex tried to explain. "Look, every mission could be a trap. This one is no different. I'm telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He's alive!"

Althea felt a pang of sympathy. She knew exactly how Rex felt. But Crosshair wasn't as kind. "I think your letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel."

"I had no choice. You hear me?" It was clear Rex was losing his temper.

"Oh, I don't blame you." The sniper said as he turned away. "I would've left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg."

That was the last straw. Althea would've punched him right there is Rex hadn't beaten her too it. Wrecker grabbed the captain by the throat. "Hey! Why don't you pick on someone not your size?" He threw him to the ground, but Rex got right back up.

He made himself as tall as he could and got in Wrecker's face. "You'll be a whole lot smaller when I'm through with you."

"That's enough!" General Skywalker ordered. He turned to Hunter. "Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my Captain alone."

The Bad Batch walked down the mountain away from the 501st soldiers. Althea was fuming with rage the whole way down. When they reached the bottom, Crosshair took off his helmet and rubbed his jaw. Rex threw a strong punch that even a helmet couldn't save you from. But Althea didn't care about the sniper's well being now. She punched him square in the jaw with all her strength. 

Crosshair stumbled back and Hunter grabbed her shoulders. "Althea!"

The medic shook him off and turned back to Crosshair. "What the hell was that?!" She asked. Not even giving them a chance to answer, she turned to all of them, meeting each one of their uncovered faces. "Rex has a chance to find his friend that he thought was dead for a long time. Who cares if he's wrong? There's a chance his brother is alive and he's going to take it." She paused for a moment. "If I found out my brother was still alive, I wouldn't hesitate to try and find him."

She walked away to scout for a tower entrance, leaving her brothers to think about her words. Althea had expected better of them.

Crosshair walked over not long after, his rifle in his pack and helmet at his side. "You throw a mean punch for a healer."

Althea ignored him, earning a sigh from the sniper. "Thea," He started. "You're right." He had her attention now. Crosshair never admitted he was wrong. "But your different, so helping you with your brother was too."

"How?" The medic asked.

"You were just an innocent kid." He explained. "Your brother was all you had left. Rex is a reg. The regs have never treated us right, even we we were cadets. It's hard to feel sorry for them."

Althea hummed in thought. "You don't have to feel sorry for him, but you can't talk to him that way. Especially if it's your CO." She nudged him slightly, silently signaling she forgave him.

             •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The Bad Batch guarded the tower entrance as Tech worked to open it. A storm whipped sand around them as dry lighting struck the ground. It was times like these that Althea wished she had a helmet, but she was grateful for her cloth. Hunter leaned forward slightly and out from the shadows came Skywalker and Rex, running as fast as they could. "We're in business, General." He said. "Tech regained Echo's signal. It's coming from this tower. How's it going, Tech?"

Tech didn't respond as he tapped the buttons. He pressed one final switch and the door opened. "Sorry it took so long." He said standing up.

"Hey, Crosshair, check it out." Hunter ordered.

Crosshair walked inside taking a quick look. "Yeah, it's a lift."

Althea rolled her yellow eyes as she walked in. "Well, we already knew that." They piled up inside, but Wrecker hesitated.

"Wait, wait, wait. A lift?" He asked. "How far up are we going?"

Hunter chuckled teasingly. "Heh. Don't worry, Wrecker. I'll hold your hand." He held out his hand mockingly, but Wrecker just shoved him.

"Hey! Cut it out, Sarge. Just give me some droids to crush." He stepped inside, and the crowded lift made it's ascent.

"Remember," Skywalker said. "This is a stealth mission. No blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we're here."

The lift doors opened, revealing a room full of droids. Wrecker let out a yell as he charged them, the rest of the Bad Batch close behind. In no time they cleared the room, but the element of surprise was long gone. "Yeah!" Wrecker cheered when the fight was over. "Hah! Haha! Yeah!" He stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him. "Uh...sorry. I just got excited."

"I've still got a lock in Echo's signal." Tech said as he stared at his datapad.

Hunter nodded. "All right, men. Let's hunt some droids."

"Now you're talking! Yeah!" Wrecker cheered as they left.

They made their way through the tower. Hunter peeked out the door into a hall and saw only a few droids. He and Rex stepped out and took care of them instantly. Everyone stepped into the hall. "Where exactly is Echo's signal coming from?" Skywalker asked.

Tech tapped his datapad. "Strange. I just lost the signal."

Rex took of his helmet. "What? How can that be? There's no 'atmospheric disturbances' up here."

"Well, I have a new theory." Said Tech. "I'm surprised I did not consider it earlier. The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal."

With this new information, Skywalker gave new orders. "Okay, we're splitting up. Search every door. If someone finds Echo, contact the other. We go in together, just in case there's trouble."

They split off, Anakin and Crosshair going one way and the rest going the other. It was a circular room so they wouldn't be far. Althea opened a door and aimed her blaster, but nothing was there. "Ah!" Tech sounded pleased. "It appears the signal is back. It's from up ahead." He ran towards his signal.

The others followed him, Hunter with his helmet off. It was possible he sensed something and needed the helmet off to be sure. In a dark area stood a heavily locked door. "In there." The sergeant said.

Rex tapped the door. "Tech, open this door."

Before he could, the intercom by the door whirred to life, revealing Wat Tambor. "You clones are so predictable."

"Wat Tambor." Rex seethed.

"Your algorithm predicted every move you made to infiltrate Purkoll."

"There is no algorithm." Said Rex. "We know you're holding a prisoner of war in here."

"Prisoner? I don't know what you mean, Captain." Tambor lied.

"I am leaving here with my friend."

"Your friend is dead. His mind is ours."

Rex hit his fist on the wall. "Liar!"

Behind them, dozens of droids approached. "Execute them." 

The Bad Batch and Rex fired instantly. Hunter threw his knife, lodging it in one of the droid's head. He grabbed it and swiftly moved on to his next victim, flipping over droids like a Jedi. Speaking of Jedi, General Skywalker used the Force to destroy over half the droids. Crosshair slid on the floor and blasted the droids from beneath them. 

But when all the droids were destroyed, more on both sides of the circle fired at them. Althea, Hunter, Rex, Tech, and Skywalker all hid against one wall, and Crosshair and Wrecker the other. "Tech, open that door for Rex!" Skywalker ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Tech ran over to the door.

Hunter turned to Althea. "Thea, cover them." She nodded and ran to Tech as Hunter looked to Rex. He remembered Althea's words about her brother. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Captain."

Rex nodded and ran into the now open door with Althea and Tech.

Althea and Rex led they way, their blasters ready. The door led to a dark room filled with electricity. In the center was a huge control board with a hatch above it. "I don't like the look of this." Althea mumbled.

Tech went to work at the controls. "I'm definitely picking up a life-form in there. It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open." He pulled one final lever, and the chamber opened.

Inside was white and cold, and a person. Gravity took over and the person fell out, the only thing keeping him upright was the thousands of wires attached to his body. His face was gaunt and pale, but it was a clone. Althea took a step back in horror, her hand reaching for Tech's. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze, assuring them both that what they were seeing was real.

Rex looked up at the clone. "Echo." He climbed onto the control board and pulled Echo down. "Tech, Althea. He got to get him out of here." This snapped the siblings out of their shock. "Figure out how to unplug him from this mess."

Tech and Althea stepped away, the former checking his datapad for how to unplug Echo. Althea took a ragged breath. Up till now she had thought she'd seen it all. She knew first hand that war was hard, but this was a whole new level of horrific. One that she didn't know how to comprehend.

​​​​​​​​​​​​​<- Previous

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[ghostofskywalker]

hellooo! i'm really excited about your winter ficlets and wanted to request something!

what about “I don’t think either of us are qualified for this, but sure, go for it” with tech? i'm really wondering what he wouldn't be qualified for. 🤭 and i don't mind about the reader's pronouns, you can write what you're up to!

hello! this was such an interesting and fun prompt for him, i hope you enjoy my interpretation!

words: 840

summary: omega's in a bad mood, and neither you nor your boyfriend know what to do about it.

note: the mechanics of this fic rely on the idea that when they're on Ord Mantell, the batch rent an apartment so that they're not on the ship all the time.

Not Qualified

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet

The sound of Omega’s door slamming shut echoed throughout the tiny apartment, and you could have sworn you heard some of the plates in the cabinet rattle. Not sure what to do, you looked at Tech. “Any idea what that’s about?”

Looking as confused as you felt, he shook his head. “I understand that Omega may be worried that Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo haven’t returned by now, but this behavior is far from normal for her.”

“Do you want to check on her and make sure everything is okay?”

He looked at you like you had just suggested that he wrestle a gundark with his bare hands. “What?”

“Someone should check on Omega,” you said, a confused look on your face. “She clearly needs to talk to someone right now.”

“What about you?”

Your eyes widened. “I don’t know how qualified I am for something like this. Usually bounty hunters can just kill their problems, and that’s definitely not what needs to happen here. Besides, you’re her brother.”

“Look, I don’t think either of us are qualified for this,” Tech said. “But we should still go for it.”

As you looked at his face, you could see a glimpse of something in his eyes that you didn’t quite recognize at first, until it came to you. Tech was nervous. It made sense of course, because Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo had embraced their newfound role of “big brother” a little easier than he did, because he had always been a little bit less social than the rest of the crew. Hells, it had taken you what felt like forever to finally get him to realize that you liked him, and the relationship you had with him was still just barely out of the friend zone. You knew it had to be nerve-wracking right now, to be the only one of his brothers here and having a issue that can’t necessarily be solved with cold hard facts, and you reached out to take his hand. “Come on, let’s go together.”

A gruff “come in” sounded through the door moments after you knocked, and the door opened to reveal Omega laying face down on her bed, with the plush Aiwha you had gotten for her at a market laying haphazardly on the floor (which was likely launched into the air from the momentum of her throwing herself on the bed).

You were definitely not prepared for this, but it would be much worse to just turn around and leave, so you took a few steps into the room. “I can tell that something is bothering you honey,” you said gently. “Do you want to talk about it? It may make you feel better.”

She pulled her body upwards off the bed, and you could see the way her eyes shined with tears. “When is everyone else going to come back?” she asked, and your heart broke.

Growing up where she did and being watched over exclusively by Kaminoans clearly affected her, and now that she had found something of a family it had to be hard to watch some of them leave. Even if it was simply for a mission, part of the team leaving meant that she still had to spend more time without the people she cared so deeply about. “I don’t know,” you admitted softly. “But they won’t be gone forever, I know that.”

Tech looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something, but you shot him a quick glare. Yes, you knew that every mission meant the chance of serious injury or death, and Omega probably knew that too, but technicalities were not what she needed to hear right now.

Thankfully, he seemed to get the message. “Yes, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker will be back as soon as they can,” Tech said, and you watched as Omega ran over to him. He definitely looked a little shocked as his sister threw her arms around him, and you could see the way he looked to you for help. You mimed wrapping your arms around something to give him a little hint of what to do in this moment, and he nodded quickly.

You watched as Tech followed your hint, and you could see Omega’s tears start to stop. You knew that her heartbreak wasn’t something that could be fixed right away (or maybe at all), but with some time (and maybe a little bit of ice cream), you might be able to help make this a little less difficult for her.

It was impossible to ignore the smile that crept over your face at the sight of Omega clutching onto Tech like he was going to disappear, simply because he looked really surprised when it first happened. You had a feeling though, that he would be settling into his newfound role as big brother a little easier from now on.

And maybe, later you would get to gleefully inform him that he was wrong about neither of you being qualified to help in this particular situation.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[stardusthuntress]

EnigmaTech - Ch. 2

My Tech lives AU! This one is based on the idea that the Bad Batch just needs someone with a clear head to follow his trail and appreciate the man for what he is truly capable of! I’m not a many-chapter-fic writer, but this one I felt like it could be divided into 3-4, maybe 5 (yes, it's getting longer, I know) solid chapters that focus on retrieving the beloved brainiac, his bubbly little sister, and their angsty brother. Consider it a mini-series! 

Chapter 2 - One Step at a Time 

Tech x female!reader (EVENTUALLY; but he still hasn't met her yet, this is the buildup to that part, they will meet soon, I promise! just use of pronouns in this part, not anatomy)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

Word Count: ~3.7K

Chapter Summary: Now that they know Tech survived, that means they now have a list of people they care about that they need to rescue. By asking the question 'what did the Empire want with each one', will that help them figure out where each one is?

TW: I state that Tech is hurt, but I don't specify any details! No gore here! Just some notes that he might end up in the same boat Echo was once in. She/her pronouns used, but no mention of female anatomy or anything like that in this one.

A/N: Alrighty, this part feels like it's almost there but not quite, but I needed to just get it out so I can focus on the next part, or I will NEVER finish this story! Enjoy!

Tech dividers by @/djarrex

Translations: haran = hell (Mando'a) dank ferrik = the Star Wars equivalent of "oh fuck" or "damn it"

He’s alive! But dank ferrik, that looks like it hurt like haran [hell]! 

He’d managed to soften his fall a bit, and get out of the way of the railcar, but it was still a long way to fall, and he’d only been able to slow his speed enough to survive it, but not enough to prevent injury on impact. 

“Wait,” Wrecker has questions, “I don’t get it… if Tech is still wearing his goggles, under his helmet there, how can they be the thing that’s recording this?” 

“Good catch Wrecker,” Echo smirks, proud of his brother. 

“Tech had a spare pair of goggles.” Hunter adds. “They must have been in the pack he was wearing when he fell. I used to use whether they were in that pack or this pack,” he gestures with the backup pack he’s still holding, and proceeds to check for the spare pair in it as he continues, “as an indicator of whether or not Tech thought the mission was more dangerous than he was letting on…and they’re not in here. That IS his spare pair… *sigh* I guess you’re right, there were little things he would do to protect us from the full truth.” 

“Don’t feel bad about it Hunter. It means he loves you very much. I just…” she takes a deep breath, “… I’ve found he’s a lot like me, we have a lot of the same habits and ways of doing things. So it’s a little easier for me to put myself in his shoes, so to speak.”  

“So I’ve noticed.” Hunter comments, “It’s sorta comforting, really. You’re just like him… I just wish he had been able to meet you a long time ago. To know that there were others like him, that he was not alone. When we were cadets he often told me that his mind was both his gift and his curse, because it made him unique but being unique meant he was the only one like that. I don’t know if he knew the Kaminoans made him that way because of the effectiveness of people like you.” 

“I know the feeling, and I appreciate the complement.” 

“I’m glad you’re the one Rex sent to help us get them all back. I’m glad he will get a chance to meet you,” Hunter comments. 

“Thank you, Hunter. That means a lot to me, especially coming from you. I know you are having a hard time trusting me, and I understand why. I’ve had trust issues too, they are very hard to work past. Thank you for letting me work beside you guys. It’s nice to have an understanding team that doesn’t hate me for infodumping all the time.”

“I don’t think I realized how comforting it was when Tech did that until he wasn’t there anymore to do it all the time,” Wrecker added. 

“Then let’s get him back, big guy,” she pats his arm. 

Wrecker smiles and nods. 

Echo chimes in, cool headed and taking inventory like the ARC he is “Okay, so… that recording doesn’t add much. It’s only a few minutes between impact and when that trooper steps on the spare goggles and the recording stops, and it’s mostly pointed at the trees and the wreckage of the railcar during that time. But what DO we have to work with now?” 

“What about the things the TK troopers were talking about. Any names ring a bell?” She asks. 

Hunter starts the list for the group “they mentioned the name Hemlock, that’s the man who brought us Tech’s goggles and took Omega.” 

“Hemlock’s facility is the same one Crosshair was wired to” Echo adds. “That’s why we were trying to track his shuttle from Eriadu.”

“The name does appear in Tech’s notes a few times. Mostly about Crosshair and where he may have been taken, but he doesn’t seem to get very far before the railcar incident.” 

“There are so many unanswered questions though,” Hunter interjects, concerned-big-brother (read: concerned-Dad) mode kicking in. “Why did they want Omega? They’re clearly not interested in more clone troopers, so her status as a near-perfect copy of Django is not it.” 

“She knows a lot about cloning. She grew up in close contact with Nala Se, as an assistant of sorts,” Echo shrugs. 

“Tech told me once that the Empire destroyed Kamino so that they could control cloning. That was shortly after the encounter with the Zillo Beast, the one after the war.” Hunter recalls, doing his best to add as much info as he can, as per her request. 

“That’s not much to go on,” Echo sighs. 

“On the contrary, there’s a lot there to unpack.” She starts counting as she adds each one to a list on her data pad, “one: Omega's knowledge, two: her bond with Nala Se, and three: how there are far more cloning projects going on. And, four: looking at Tech’s notes on the Zillo Beast, they utilized Kaminoan technology, and yet there were no indications of any Kaminoans ever having been present in the lab. All the technology was the human-sized versions they developed ‘for interactions with the clones of Django’ as Tech puts it. And here, a fifth one! Records he decrypted when searching for Crosshair indicate that Nala Se is also alive and was transferred into custody of an unlisted scientist. A scientist? Interesting. She’s listed as a prisoner, but she’s not being held by a prison guard. Either way, it seems that Tech, Nala Se, and Crosshair are likely under Hemlock’s ‘supervision’, or rather control, within the Advanced Science Division. Considering Omega’s ties to all the aforementioned individuals, and that it was Hemlock who took her away, it is likely that she is at the same facility.” Feeling elated by the progress they’re making with everyone contributing, she keeps on rolling. “Speaking of, Tech’s notes on the reason the bounty hunters were after Omega and why the stopped hunting her are very vague, suggesting that info was well hidden. Echo, have you and Rex been able to dig up anything more on that?”

“No, Weirdly, there’s absolutely no record of bounty hunters going after Omega in any Imperial logs we’ve found so far. Which suggests it was not the Imperials that put a bounty on her. Let me crossrefference the times at which the Bounty Hunters stopped showing up with the times that things began to move off of Kamino and see if we can find any correlations there.” 

The room is quiet while Echo scomps into the computer. The screen nearest him lights up and Hunter and Wrecker provide additional eyes as he scrolls through the data, pointing out important pieces as they see them. 

“Here!” Echo’s voice is triumphant. “Tarkin issued orders to put the Kaminoan Prime Minister under surveillance and then he was transferred off world! That’s all not long after we rescued Omega from the two bounty hunters and not long before Admiral Rampart destroyed Kamino. Looks like that does correlate with the time we noticed the bounty hunters seemed to have stopped searching for Omega.” 

“So, its likely that it was the Kaminoans that put a target on her.” She reasons, “But why? What secrets do her genetics carry? What value does she have to Nala Se? Most of the evidence we’ve listed so far has to do with cloning, so it would seem that Hemlock’s work is some type of cloning project, but why is he using existing clones as test subjects? What is he cloning that requires test subjects, or are there other medical projects under Hemlock’s control?” Her train of thought seems doomed to derail just like the railcar. 

“If you’re looking for answers, we definitely have less of those than you do” Wrecker laughs. 

“There are clues everywhere.” She uses a finger to emphasize her point, but the glazed look in her eyes tell them her mind is still diving throught the data, “You just need to know where to look and how to read them.” Wrecker found himself exchanging glances with the other two. 

“Okay, let’s backup. We know Omega, Crosshair, Nala Se, and now Tech are all in the custody of this Dr. Hemlock fellow, and all are central figures in his latest cloning project, which seems to utilise Kaminoan tech (if the Zillo Beast incident is anything to go on, that is, though that is a bit of a leap) and requires test subjects, a LOT of test subjects according to the transferred records Echo and Tech recovered. This would imply that all are likely to be found at the headquarters of the Advanced Science Division, and that there are too many things getting shipped into these new facilities for it to stay off the radar for very long. Track enough of them, and they will all trace back to this secret base, like rashnold on a kylak.” 

“But, what does Hemlock want with Tech?” Like the rest of them, Wrecker’s mind is swirling with unanswered questions. 

“It’s not clear,” Hunter answers, “all we know is that he was injured, in a lot of pain and barely conscious, and they have all the facilities to patch him back up there.” 

“I think there’s more to it,” she cringes “but you’re not gonna like it.” She looks with a pointed pain at Echo out of the corner of her eye. 

Echo turns even more pale, picking up on what she’s implying. “No. No, they better not have.” 

Hunter starts to pick up on it too, he leans forwards in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I don’t have a good feeling about this.” 

“Me either.” She almost whispers it, “But based on the fact that Hemlock needed Omega and Nala Se and test subjects, there’s something they weren’t able to get from the Kaminoan cloning equipment and whatever else they stole from Kamino before destroying it. Likely their records of how to actually do the cloning. Which would mean that they need a mind or two with lots of experience with Kaminoans and their cloning facilities, especially one that’s really good at untangling details and solving complex problems. Based on the fact that Crosshair sent you boys a Plan 88 message, warning that someone is in pursuit, it is likely that Hemlock knows how loyal your team in particular is. That would further suggest that Hemlock knows he’s not going to get anything useful from Tech while Tech is consciously aware of what he is doing. We also know from the Techno Union’s experiments on Echo that it is possible to use an unconscious mind as a strategic processing system. I’d wager that’s exactly what Hemlock plans to do with Tech to extract whatever in haran [hell] he’s missing.” her eyes gloss over as her mind races “kark, it would even be easy to hide him, since his name is ‘Tech’, and how Hemlock is clearly aware that clones are considered property. It’s just a box of equipment and ‘tech’ ready for installation or inspection at his facility, even Tarkin could miss a box with a generic label like that. I shudder to think…” her thought trails off as they all sit in an uncomfortable silence. 

Each of them wore expressions of disgust as they stared into the distance, minds racing. 

“Wait!” Wrecker seems to have caught something “Hemlock caught up with us pretty fast after Eriadu. We’d barely had time to get patched up and Omega got lucky that she woke up before he got there. I remember seeing a Light Cruiser or a Venator or something that looked like one above Ord Mantell! That ship had to come from somewhere and go somewhere, right? That’s a big ship to just disappear off the records all of a sudden! Do you think they already had Tech onboard?” 

“Good point Wreck! You’re right it is!” She adds Wrecker’s input to her growing list on her datapad. 

Echo’s excitement at having a lead they can act on is almost palpable. “We need shipping and transfer records from anything leaving Eriadu immediately after the explosion, specifically anything that went though Ord Mantel on it’s way to it’s destination. If we crossreference that with the destinations of shipments leaving Kamino shortly before Rampart destroyed it, we might be onto something!” 

Hunter seems less worried now that they have something they can do, “Okay, so, step one: find an Imperial communications network we can discreetly tap into and extract shipping records from Kamino and Eriadu without arousing suspicion. Do we all agree with that?” 

“Affirmative, Sergeant!” She and Echo, echo. 

Wrecker cheers. “We’re coming Tech, just hold out a little longer.” 

“...and… Omega and Crosshair” Hunter’s eyebrows raise in concern. 

“Yeah, but Tech is the one in need of a nice medic,” Wrecker points out. 

“We don’t know what state Crosshair is in, but given that he tried to warn us about Hemlock, it seems unlikely that Hemlock is treating him well. He may also be in need of a ‘nice medic’ Wrecker.” Echo points out. 

Wrecker looks around the Marauder, looking at the bandages around Hunter’s waist, while somewhat restrained by his own medical collar. “Seems like we all need that right now,” he mutters. 

“Hey big guy, AZI and I can handle you 3, I just hope we’re included in that ‘nice medic’ count of yours.” She gently nudges his shoulder, “Let’s get you lot on the mend fast so we can break into that Imperial data facility and get the stolen 3 back soon too. Yeah?” 

“Yeah” agrees Wrecker, “thanks little lady, I don’t know what we would have done without you. Echo was right, we did need an outside voice for this mission.” He claps Echo on the shoulder. Even with the medical collar on, Wrecker’s energy seems to be at his usual fervor, as Echo gives him an annoyed look and rubs his own shoulder gently. 

Hunter let’s out a huff and shakes his head. Looking back at the woman he adds in “Wrecker’s right, I don’t think we would have gotten this far without you. Thank you.” He turns to the room at large “Alright. Let’s pick an imperial data relay facility and work out a plan to get the shipping logs for Eriadu and Ord Mantel.” 

Later, during Hunter’s watch, while the others are asleep, she sneaks into the cockpit. 

“Hunter, can I talk to you?” 

He turns in his seat to face her as she sits in the copilot’s seat “Sure. What’s up?” He’s clearly aware of the fact that she just snuck in to talk to him alone while the others were asleep, and is grateful she came to him as the squad leader with her concerns, but trying not to let that get to him just yet. 

“There’s something weird here about all this. Techs actions at the railcar… something doesn’t sit right about it. I’m not sure what exactly though. But I have this weird, nagging feeling that it might have to do with what he found out about Crosshair defecting.” 

Hunter seems glad that she came to him with her concerns “I’m glad you’re telling me this, but I’m not sure I’m going to be much help figuring it out. That’s normally Tech’s job.” 

“So, when Tech couldn’t figure something out, how would you support him?” 

“Usually? I’d force him to get some sleep.” Hunter sighs, “something tells me using my Sergeant status and ordering you to sleep isn’t gonna work here.”

She smiles, “na, not likely. I can’t turn off my mind enough to sleep right now. And I’m not very tired.” 

They sit in silence for a few more minutes before he suggests she just say what she’s thinking out loud. 

“Okay. I might be totally wrong on this though, but I’m not sure how else to interpret this, but it’s more of a feeling than anything supported by evidence this time.” 

“You’ve been pretty spot on so far. I bet you’re not as far off as you think. Tech often says the same thing, and he’s usually got a better handle on it than he thinks he does,” Hunter kinda likes the way she asked what he did to help Tech when he was stuck, this felt exactly the same to him. 

“Tech had a long way to fall, which means he had time to do something. Like more time than it would take to simply get out of the way of that railcar… so why is it that that is all he did? What if there was more to it?” 

“Are you implying that Tech might have intended to get caught and didn’t intend to prevent his own injury?” Hunter asks, worry etching his features. 

“Sorta,” Her expression tells him that she doesn’t like the idea either, “he seems to have reasoned that the only way to get to Crosshair was to get caught, and then just happened to literally fall into the right solution to get to him. He likely knew that if any of you simply surrendered, you wouldn’t be taken to the same place as Crosshair, too risky for the Empire to put a completely healthy and independently creative or ‘deviant’ clone in a situation where one or more of their own was at risk. You lads fight your way out of situations like that all the time…

Tech may have also gotten the inkling that they wanted Omega back too, we established that he knew she was important to something the Kaminoans were doing. The question is what? What did he know that he didn’t write down?...” Her thoughts drift off. 

Hunter just watches, knowing she will continue, theres too many thoughts swirling in her eyes, they need to be let out. 

“But maybe that part doesn’t matter yet. Going back to getting to Crosshair and Omega though… if Tech arrived there healthy his presence would put Omega at risk. They know he’s attached to her and probably wouldn’t hesitate to use her against him. And they wanted more compliant test subjects. The most compliant are always the wounded because they can prolong their vulnerability and exploit it as a weakness. Gruesome and morally twisted, but that seems like the Imperial thing to do given the way the chips fell…” 

“And it’s exactly the sort of thing Tech would just do and then tell us later that he ‘thought it was obvious’” Hunter spoke though his hands, which covered his mouth. His brow knitted in concern. 

The doors opened and Echo entered quietly and sat down. The cockpit doors closed behind him. 

She smiled, “old habits die hard, huh Echo?” 

Hunter raised a brow, but otherwise didn’t move. 

Echo rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah. Something like that.” 

Hunter gave him a look. He wasn’t about to let it go with just that. 

Embarrassed, Echo began explaining “I, uhhh, when I was with the 501st, my bestfriend, Fives, was really good at getting into things that he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t smooth talk his way out of anything. He thought he could tho,” Echo laughed, eyes distant and filled with memory, “it was fun, and it didn’t seem fair to let him pay the price when I would follow him right into trouble, knowing that’s where he was leading us. So I got really good at getting us out of it… I…erh… may or may not have heard most of that conversation. I scomped into the system from the computers back there,” he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, “and let the surveillance feed play in my uhhh,” he pointed at the device on his head, and looked pleadingly at Hunter, hoping he wouldn’t have to put a name to it. Echo hated how much machinery he required just to live a normal life anymore. 

Hunter just laughed. “Rex warned me about your mischievous side when we took you in. I was wondering how long you were gonna try to keep it to yourself. Though you seemed content to just let it out when you thought I wasn’t gonna mention anything, I think it even encouraged the trickster in Omega a few times.” 

“Ha! Sorry.” Echo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was afraid of that.” 

“Such a brotherly thing to do, encourage his little sister to be a little troublemaker.” She was smiling at them from her chair. 

Both the men laughed quietly and returned the grin. 

“I’m glad you heard that though, Echo, but I’m not sure we should tell Wrecker. I would hate to make him more worried about Tech. It was so sweet of him to worry about the medical care Tech is recieving. I know medical things bother Wrecker the most. I get the feeling he’d be really upset if he figured out that Tech might have let himself get hurt, intentionally. Wrecker’s got such a big heart.” 

“Then let’s focus on the mission objectives,” Echo chimed in. “I’ve been thinking about whether we should team up with Rex for the intel part of the mission. I have a feeling he wouldn’t want to miss a chance to gather some intel on the Imperials while we have the chance.” 

Hunter’s eyes focused on the floor lost in intense thought, the light of the console and the stillness and determination in his expression only highlighting the tattoo covering half his face. 

After a few moments, he looks back up at Echo and nods. “Contact him. We will see what he says in the morning. Until then, you two need rest, this was supposed to be my watch after all,” he smirks, bidding them goodnight as Echo scomps into the comm system, and she exits the cockpit, yawning and ready for a good rest so they can develop a plan in the morning.

(Part 3)

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

taglist: @bambambunny (FIRST time I've ever tagged anyone interested in my fics!!! YAY!!! And congrats to Johann for being the first one on the taglist!!!) (if I forgot to tag anyone, please message me! I don't have a full taglist yet, this is just whoever specifically asked to be tagged for this fic for now!)

[warsamongthestars]

A LOVE LETTER

I think after a certain point, one must search their feelings (You know this to be true), look deep inside themselves, face their Shadow (I AM THE SHADOW THE TRUE SELF), and come to one’s personal understanding of themselves and their limits.

And when the limit has been reached.

So let’s talk Bad Batch. I’m going to be mean to this show. And I guarantee, this is going to feel like whiplash. So get yer big gulps and your happy meals, we’re in for a ride.

I will not lie. Watching the Bad Bach is exhausting to me. It is painful to go through each episode, and this feeling of painful exhaustion and impatience didn’t go away.

Well if its so painful, why are you still watching?

Because I love the boys. The Bad Batch was the first set of characters I saw across the room, and by the rules of narrative causality, it was love at first sight.

Hunter, the cool and calmed headed leader with the unique abilities.

Wrecker, loud and emotionally honest, a joy in bombastics (literally) who’s first reaction is to always defend his brothers.

Tech, precise professional and intelligent, always on the curve to learn and understand, and then be able to perform afterwards.

Crosshair, perceptive, witty and sharp tongued, who hits the heart of the situation whether anyone wants it or not.

And finally, Echo, oh, Echo, who was with us since the beginning, brought back from the brink to continue the journey. Clever, and snarky Echo, strongest soul of them all.

The idea that they were getting a series was amazing, because we would have adventures with the Bad Batch, and we’d get to experience and learn and see so much.

By all accounts, it shouldn’t hurt.

But isn’t that exactly what we got?

Not... really.

When I said The Bad Batch, I meant, all of them. What did Episode 1 do? Remove Crosshair from the equation and make him a bad guy.

Broken Promise 1: Adventures with the Whole Team.

But he was a Jerk, so it was obvious he’d be the evil guy. Didn’t you hear what he said about Echo?

Uh huh. Its by this point of this metaphorical questioning that I point out that I’m a Homestuck fan, I read the whole thing (and or had it read to me--thank you Let’s Reads--its a huge fucking webcomic, what do we expect?)

Homestuck is explicitly a deconstruction and reconstruction of Characters and Environments and Stories and Plots and everything in between. Its the Good Spice.

With that as the example, you honestly think I haven’t heard worse from more beloved characters? Frankly if you’re put off by that, you would have never survived Karkat Vantas, the most beloved and harmless character in the whole of Homestuck.

Let’s get back on topic.

But we still got the Adventures of the Bad Batch!

We got Johnny Quest in Star Wars, pal.

I ain’t saying that’s a bad thing, Johnny Quest was a very remembered show (parodied in many series, with the the Venture Bros being outright and explicit about it--that’s how loved it was)

But Kid Sidekick who’s super special awesome being protecc’d by the quote “good” members of the super special awesome team, is basically how you jump the shark in most series.

Now Omega isn’t that bad, she’s better written that most (for one thing, she’s an actual kid that brings in trouble actual kids would bring in combat and survival situations like hers). But the role she fills is not a new role, its in fact a role that historically been hated since Television started. She’s not the new Robin to Batman here.

Because there is no Batman.

What does Batman have to do with the Bad Batch?

He doesn’t, but the story archetype highlights some problems with the BBs. First and foremost, in order to have Robin, you have to Establish Batman.

And the Bad Batch, are not established.

Lemme explain why.

Batman’s main motivation is that his parents were murdered in an alleyway in front of him as a child, and he grew up with the conviction that no other child should experience that again. You see his aesthetic, you see his home, how he grows, and then you get Robin.

Its a basic premise that boarders on cliche now, by every show, book, and most DnD sessions.

But it does its job, it establishes a character with history and motivations, and leaves room for how that character reached the point where they could do something for their goals, and what they do whilst accomplishing their goal. Their goal may never be fullfilled, but that’s the point, it makes stories and we might just learn something about the reality along the way, or at worse, we get entertained, or at better, we get inspired to make our stories and maybe we nail the lessons the originals didn’t, or we simply inspire or entertain others.

Now then...

Showing up for a pinpoint mission on a nowhere planet to save someone who’s survival was contrived at best because main character said so, is not an introduction to a character. Its the introduction to a series, like how every 70s-80s shows used to do in shows that were popular.

So its understandable that the Clone Wars show doesn’t do that, because TCWs is not about the Bad Batch.

... But the Bad Batch series stills fails.

But it doesn’t have to be perfect.

The act of not being perfect is exactly what we want, actually.

Perfection means universal, for example, we as living things all require subsistence, that is a universal thing. Just as death is inevitable, thus universal. This is the state of “perfection”, because they are infallible and unchangeable aspects and they are free of flaw and defect in their function.

Perfection is already achieved. Now we’re simply finding ways to be interestingly and fallibly imperfect that impacts us enough to find our own “perfection”. (For individuals know their fallibility, and finding where our foundation (the center of perfection in all things--that is, the soul) lies is our journey--that is the act of achieving perfection, and it will always be individual and as individual beings, it will incomprehensible to anyone else, this is the act of synchronicity).

But now that I’ve broken existence, let’s get back to Star Wars before reality crashes and I have to go back to another save point. (Damn it Todd Howard).

And I love the characters. I’m going to be mean.

How the hell does the Bad Batch series fail?

Its their series and it should be about them, and its not.

Of course its about them!

Being the center piece of the show does not mean the show is about you. Just as being the Player Character of the Video Game doesn’t mean the game is about you at all, its often about the characters you encounter or the missions you go on.

What makes them tick and talk, what’s their history, why do they do things?

None of this is established. The closest we got is “We’re soldiers this is what we do” and “Because we’re better” or “Because we’re different”

And those are not motivations. Those are excuses.

All that this has established is that the Bad Batch started their history the moment they were introduced to the Clone Wars BB Arc.

And that means that this is Plot-Driven, and it was never about the characters, we just have center pieces with a few quirks but ultimately anyone could’ve filled in their shoes.

We could replace them with the Millennium Falcon, and have the Original Trilogy Crew perform these feats, and frankly that’d be more interesting and considerably less painful. We could even replace Crosshair’s role with a Stormtrooper (The one super special awesome show-writer OC that becomes the Main Characters’ best friend and companion and gets lots of screen time), and that would be more interesting and less painful.

... And that hypothetical gives pretty concrete evidence that the Bad Batch Series is not about the Bad Batch. Character-center episodes can be too easily replaced or character moments are too rushed through or insignificant.

Its With the Bad Batch, not About the Bad Batch.

Broken Promise 2: Its about the Bad Batch.

The Bad Batch Characters are all cliche action hero tropes anyway.

You’re not wrong. And the thing about not being wrong here, is that we know what the good shit looks like.

Hunter is the worst one here, and the best example. He’s basically every 80s action hero in one, and y’know, not being very original is fine.

There’s only three things in human history that can truly fall under the definition of Original, and that’s “Space-Travel, Nuclear Power, and the Internet”, and that’s because these things are less than century old in comparison to Humanity’s thousands of years.

So Hunter being a collection of cliches is not a bad thing. You can spin that really well, actually. The problem is, they don’t. He’s “The Leader” who “looks like a Biker” and “Does things because the Plot is actually about his Kid”.

If I wanted that specifically, I’d play Silent Hill again, because Harry Mason has all those traits, and he’s a lot more interesting.

The Environment and Circumstance and the Challenges he faces, show’s Harry’s character.

Its already long established what Hunter is, what Hunter is is not in question.

But Omega is the main character in comparison to Hunter.

Hunter is meant to be an Action Hero, but he has none of the pitfalls the 80s action hero does. He’s not challenged about being a Soldier, he’s not challenged (On-Screen) about how he leads the Batch, he is simply vaguely challenged when encountering Omega.

Hunter is challenged for his Role in the Plot, as the Leader who Looks like a Biker and Does Things Because the Plot is Actually About his Kid. He’s not challenged on screen enough for that character to make a significant difference to what is presented.

I think I talked about having stuff on screen before.

I can name two characters that do exactly what Hunter does, to show that you can, in fact, write a character who is a series of cliches anyway into a memorable character inspite of that.

Solid Snake, from the Metal Gear Solid series.

And

Geralt of Rivia, from the Witcher Series.

Or the ultimate example...

The Boss, from Metal Gear Solid 3.

They go through similar or the same challenges, they have an connection with parenthood and with being a solider; two have been main characters, while one is a mentor figure, and they roughly follow the same ideas found in Star Wars (because Star Wars, by this point, has highly influenced all media across many cultures).

Can you fucking imagine what it would’ve been like if we got Solid Fucking Snake in Star Wars? With all of Metal Gear Solid’s philosophy stuffs? Imagine having a philosophical soldier that deconstructs and reconstructs the ideas of the Jedi, the greater galaxy and the Force.

While we obviously can’t just copy-paste characters here (even though that’s exactly what they did, given that Hunter is Billy from Predator, and the leader from the A-Team) The interpretation of the character by a writer makes a new character, because our interpretation will always differ from the personal interpretation of the original creator.

I don’t think Hunter was intended to mimic these characters at all, but repeated patterns say that he’s following their footsteps... but unlike the examples above, he’s not quite making the same impact. Or any.

... This isn’t broken promise level though. There wasn’t anything that established that Hunter should be Solid Fucking Snake of Rivia in Star Wars.

But the inspirations could’ve spiced him up a bit. He is like a sugar sandwich, cmissing a lot of ingredients.

You just pointed out that there are better things out there, why not go to them instead?

I am alive and I will make it everybody’s problem.

And I am doing this because I love the characters.

Because when you love something, you go those extra miles. Hell, you make the whole damn road yours.

I’m very confused.

So I’ll sum up what I got so far, given that this is very long already. The series is not about the Bad Batch, its a Star Wars series that’s With the Bad Batch bits attached.

There’s already one flat character, and he’s the leader (not really a good thing in a Five Man Band situation).

The series has already broken two promises to its name. Its not about the Bad Batch, and we’re not going on adventures with the Full Bad Batch.

But it is the Bad Batch series, and we’re clearly following their adventures. Its about the Bad Batch.

A series about a character follows a simple idea of breaking that character down to the audience. It doesn’t have to literally break the character to do this, though it can.

What does that involve? It involves History, it involves Communication on Screen, Aesthetics and Personality.

It has Personality and Aesthetics. Most of the Bad Batch have very strong, distinct personalities and aesthetics, and imply a lot of history, and that’s what catches attention. That’s good.

The flaw is the failure of the rest.

So you might wonder, what the ever loving fuck am I talking about?

Well I’ve already gone on a thing about communication-on-screen. Its not enough to hold a series about characters by implication alone. This is not an ARG to be solved, this is a story being honestly told.

There is no Communication-on-Screen to tell the audience that shit is going down on any deep level. The BBs do not talk to each other.

That leads to the next flaw.

Their lack of history.

The sum of Star Wars lore regarding the clones is that they were commissioned after a genetic plate (the prime) to be created en mass to serve as a disposable Army for the Republic in 10 years. They are genetically modified to withstand the baseline requirements for space and planetary war, and those who exceed that baseline become Commanders and Commandos. Those that met certain criteria fill ranks such as Medics, Divers, Engineers, Hackers, ecctra.

This is already a good base of history here. You can do a lot with this.

The Bad Batch differ in that they were purposely mutated away from being the genetic baseline, what was modified is shone in the skillset or abilities of each Batchmember.

Which is fine, that’s how you get the Audience thinking.

But the show goes no further.

Do they honestly have to?

If you want a series about them, yes.

Some topics involved with the above, yes, you don’t want to get into, or you simply want to leave it in the air to be pieced together in environments that can handle those topics.

For example, there’s no good way to bring up that Clones are meant to be the “Disposable Generations”. Its there, Star Wars doesn’t ignore it, but it doesn’t talk about it. Because the Clone Wars series and the Bad Batch are meant to be Kid Shows, and topics of disregarding vast majority of people through discrimination to the point where people lose their lives to the whims the small-mindedly powerful, is a heavy topic. Worse if you’re literally creating / breeding humans to be disregarded and disposed of, speaks of a horrific mentality of eugenics.

And that’s heavy, and its horror, and its moral insanity. And If it wasn’t Star Wars, that right there would take up the entire series, and it sure as hell wouldn't be for kids.

Because its the kind of thing that you don’t sit down and accept.

But this is Star Wars, and the only way to accept it, is to not talk about it.

So what can we talk about? The characters who lived in those conditions, and how.

Back to the Bad Batch.

So, the Bad Batch has no History?

If they did, then every argument with Crosshair about his chip would’ve worked.

And this was even seen in Star Wars proper too.

In the final episode, the Finale, of The Clone Wars. Ahsoka Tano is attacked by those who know she left the Jedi Order, and that she isn’t a “Jedi”, and that Order 66 should only be about Jedi.

But that’s either not true, which would involve the clones hunting everybody done and that’s no good, or its based on perception.

It alters Perception based on the individual’s point of view.

Just because Ahsoka isn’t a Jedi, doesn’t mean the Clones stopped viewing her as a Jedi. They respect her as a Jedi, and that’s why they hunt her, even knowing that she isn’t technically affiliated with the Jedi anymore and is probably just GAR command now.

If the Bad Batch had history, there would’ve been more. They’re the outsiders who have banded together and work flawlessly together. You don’t get that without having some deep history, understanding, and loyalty to each other.

It would, by all established accounts, been simple to argue Crosshair back into the Batch, because clearly his chip didn’t work as intended. (Its not like Wrecker’s, which just blocked Wrecker out entirely. When Cross was with his Batch, his personality was clear, it was only when he is removed that he loses to the chip).

But they had no history. The implications of them being that team, failed entirely. This is where the flaws set in as gorged holes in their character and their series.

And in a series about them, character history would’ve been the simplest, easiest focus. In fact, that’s often the core component in a series about a specific person or set of persons. You don’t make a show, for example, about Abraham Lincoln being a Vampire Hunter, without making it very much about Abraham Lincoln’s history.

And that’s the bit. No real communication outside of dramatics, or the kid being the main plot figure. No history to rely on when stones fall. The characters were dressed up, implied a whole lot of stuff, and when push came to shove, it faltered, and it fails.

Echo has history!

Echo does, yes.

And they never touch it.

We never see him get confronted with his PTSD. They did once, in episode 1, then never again.

We never see closure between him and the memory of Fives, or confront his past about Domino Squad. Or the Techno Union.

The one time he’s finally with Rex, and not a single thing is talked about that isn’t the Plot at hand.

Echo is one of our Audience surrogates, specifically for Clones. He’s gone through so much, he has every right and need to talk about it for both himself as a character, and for the Audience...

... And then he doesn’t.

And the limit is reached.

You’ve gone on this tangent regarding finding a some personal limit, but this hasn’t had any limits at all!

I should probably get to the point about that, huh?

My limit?

Is that they killed Tech.

Limit broke.

What, but you’ve already made posts and comments about how he’s not dead!

I have, and I’d like to think so for all the historic evidence entailed, he isn’t dead.

... But I have to face the reality of the situation.

The reality is, is that the Bad Batch is a 3-Season series that’s not likely to be renewed, though if the characters survive, they are likely to make an appearance in other shows or media (and probably die in them instead).

That season 3 isn’t until next year, and since no evidence was shown that Tech is explicitably alive, then we have to keep the assumption that Tech’s Death means he actually died.

Just like with Echo, in Season 3 of Clone Wars. And Echo was dead for Years, before Season 7 came out. And Season 7 came out after a renewal, after three years. By all intents and purposes, Echo was dead. He was dead for Years.

Just because there’s the potential to write in why a character survived impossibility, doesn’t mean they’ll do it or that they’ll do it right. And while we can have hope, life is going to occur between now and Season 3.

Fives didn’t survive, but Rex and Hunter did, and I don’t like those odds.

And we were already working on a broken-promise situation;

Crosshair missing and regulated to be a bad guy with a redemption arc for a situation that wasn’t his fault to start with, with a trust far too easily broken than what is established.

To Hunter who is underdeveloped, underutilized, and even his own comparisons live up better than he does, and who now only revolves around the rest of the Batch.

To Echo who is unexplored inpsite of everything.

To Wrecker, who is often disregarded.

And now they’ve killed Tech.

When it comes to Limits, its the build of many things, and then there’s the moment that breaks the back of the packmule.

Its not the first strike that breaks the boulder, but the 99 strikes before it.

I love these characters. I hate what was done to them. It was painful trying to go through each episode in order to know them, when they’re not all there.

And that’s the ultimate problem in this, isn’t it?

They’re not all there.

... And they may never will be.

I still keep up with the Bad Batch, and I’ll still love Star Wars inspite of its problems. KOTOR and the Original Trilogy are in my heart and always will be. Clone Wars brought life back to me in a difficult time, and I fell hard and fast for the Bad Batch boys.

And the fanfic, and the small niches of fandom, are brilliant, Absolutely brilliant. Even from day one, folks were already making elements that showed what potential could be explored with the Bad Batch and the Clones, and that is beautiful. Wonderful and lovely. I encourage those to keep going.

But those who have made their Bad Batches, those are ultimately their Bad Batches, and not mine. For they are not my interpretations.

And I’m tired, and my experiences and expectations make things a weight on my back, and my back broke. That’s what happens when you’re presented with something you love, and those who presented it ultimately hold the fate of things that you love in their hands, and then you get the letter about how your love isn’t coming home from the war.

This canon is the Bad Batch’s legacy. What we have, is what we got, and my nightmare and fears of my loves being left with less have been fulfilled by canon.

I can’t say it let me down, because my expectations are my own, and no one is beholden to fulfill those expectations (especially since I myself don’t always know my own stuff).

I love these characters. I even identify heavily with a few (but to get into that would be diving too deep into my personal history, and I don’t talk about that, if I can help it).

I am of the audience, but I am not the intended audience, unfortunately. The series through its writing and actions so far, doesn’t really like me back, no matter how much I can say I love the characters.

This... is a love letter to love loss. I love the characters, but its a doomed promise.

This is mine, its not intended to be the reader’s perspective persay, that’s the awkward notion of love letters. They tend to personal. But I may as well lay my grief out plain. Who knows? Maybe someone might get it, maybe not.

But it might just make the difference, for a future untold.

I could be wrong. Maybe the future is brighter. Never know.

[fives-girlfriend]

A/N: New here? Start at First Impressions, part 1!

The Mission

Asha's first mission with the Batch goes off almost without a hitch, but when do things ever go as planned when Unit 99 is involved?

Direct sequel to First Impressions

Characters: TBB, OC (Asha Kurr)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of injury, burns

Word count: 3,186

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

Their first mission together. Honestly, it was always the first mission that was most thrilling - at least, that's what Asha felt. Her first mission with a new deployment always meant she got to finally see what they were like in action, even if she was to stick to the back and lay low. That was with the more standard battalions - like her old assignment with Rex, or that bizarre bomb squad, or those recon specialists... this one, though, was brand new. She had never worked with such an elite task force before. And now, as she sat in the Marauder's gunner loft, everything felt... new. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen.

So far, everything had been quiet. Tech and Hunter occupied the cockpit, Crosshair was alone on his bunk, Wrecker was currently "training" via pullups on the overhead, and Echo... Echo was down below. Quietly and subtly, Asha descended from the loft to the lower deck, sitting at the main terminal - Echo sat nearby. The two of them had a sort of... quiet respect for each other, in that regard. Maybe it wasn't full trust yet - even with Asha's previous allegiances - but Echo respected her, and she respected him, enough for the two of them to sit in an ultimately tension-free silence within the same area for a short while.

At some point Asha had eventually turned in her seat to slip out her toolkit, and was busying herself tending to the gonk droid that was currently below deck with them. The poor thing appeared to have something wrong with its power reserves... a quick examination proved her suspicions, as well as evidence of various attempts to fix it. Seems like the poor guy was just permanently stuck at a just-below-full-charge...

"Poor guy..." Asha mumbled, a hand ghosting over the droid's chassis. "You're different too, huh? Don't worry... I'll make sure you're in tip-top shape. Let's see... yeah, your battery's worn out here... hasn't been replaced in years... I'll make sure it's comfortable for you, okay?"

As Asha spoke gently to the droid, she didn't quite notice the pair of eyes on her. Echo was watching her, his trepidation making way for genuine fascination as she worked. Everyone he had ever met saw droids as nothing more than cold, unfeeling machines - any feelings they did have were simply programmed in. Built to follow orders, built to be tools. But here... here was someone who was speaking to something as simple as a gonk droid with all the care and patience of a medic calming down a stressed patient. She treated it like a friend.

Asha noticed Echo only after several minutes, and she looked up at him with a small smile. He hadn't even realized he'd been staring at her - his pallid cheeks flushed a bit darker, earning a small giggle from the mechanic across from him.

"Are you just gonna stare, or do you want me to show you how it-"

"I know how gonk droids work," Echo quickly replied, averting his gaze and turning towards the terminal. Even after their brief heart-to-heart back on Kamino, and the few days she had been with them before they all left on this mission, Echo had been painfully tense around her. It was understandable, at least. She wasn't expecting total trust - not from him, nor any of them. "...thank you, though."

"Echo, Asha," Tech's voice suddenly beeped from over their comms. "We will be arriving soon. Best come and get ready."

The two shared a look and a brief nod, before heading topside. Their first mission as a team of six - well, five plus one to stay behind at the ship in case of emergencies - was the infiltration and elimination of a Separatist tactical droid. Apparently, this one was the mind behind a shockingly organized deployment of droids... elimination of their head was paramount if they were to get rid of them. Asha, though reluctant, agreed to stay behind with the ship - she could pilot it in case of an emergency and she at least knew her way around a blaster pistol. When they touched down in that arid valley, hidden by the large outcroppings from any detection by the facility a few kliks off, everyone was ready to go.

"Keep your channel open," Hunter instructed before the five headed out, to which Asha gave a quick salute. "Stay with the ship, and if any of us contact you for a pickup, you know how to track us."

"Got it, Hunter," Asha nodded, and with that, they dispersed. She sat down on the ramp of the ship, watching the five of them vanish behind the nearby outcropping from where they had parked among the cavernous valley, and she was left entirely alone.

---

Night fell in the desert valley, harsh wind whipping through the rocks and canyons. Asha knew the boys were quite busy by now at the facility the droid had been tracked to - she'd been straining to keep an ear out, listening for any sort of disturbance... it wasn't until about an hour in that she heard the distant wailing of alarms. Well... there they were, doing what they did best.

Part of her wished she could've gone with them. A more logical, cautious part of her knew that it was best for her to stay back this particular one, but the part of her that wanted action - that wanted to help - screamed to go down there with them. But... someone needed to stay by the ship. Someone needed to be ready. Someone-

She froze. Footsteps were coming up the way, displacing rock and sand. Four, by what she could hear - Asha gripped her blaster, leaning back by the open hatch of the ship and just out of sight, and listened.

"Commander?" A shrill, automated voice spoke, and Asha inwardly cringed. Droids. Great. "We've located an unauthorized starship in the western canyon. Permission to investigate?"

Please don't, please don't, please d-

"Asha, you there?!" Wrecker's voice boomed over the comms, and Asha drew in a sharp breath. "You better be ready to get us outta h-"

Asha slapped a hand down on her commlink to shut it off, but the damage was done. She held her breath, as the sound of the droids' footsteps came closer... closer...

In the glare of the moonlight, she could see their shadows approaching. Her heart pounded in her chest. The guys had to have known by now that something was wrong if she wasn't answering her comms. Just a bit closer...

When they got close enough, Asha grit her teeth, and stepped out with a volley of blaster fire. She had that brief window of the door to the ship, and after the first initial shots - she managed to hit one! - she spun to the other side, back flush to the wall. However, she inwardly cursed as she heard one of the three remaining droids send an alert, that there was an intruder out on the ship - blaster fire struck the sides of the ship and whizzed through the door, scorching the interior wall. Asha was caught alone, and the guys needed a pickup - as she dove to the other side once again, she let out a sharp yell of pain as a bolt of blaster fire grazed her back, not striking fully, but harshly burning. It took all her strength not to fall to the floor, and as she scrambled for the cockpit, she suddenly heard the droids... stop. Metal on stone, clattering on the ground, was all she heard - and Asha breathed a sigh of relief. The tactical droid. They got it...

Okay, injuries later. Boys now. Asha hauled herself to the cockpit, grunting in pain at the scorch on her back, and prepped for takeoff - and she reactivated her commlink in the interim.

"Guys, are you there-?! Agh-" she yelled into the mic, terror lacing every word.

"We read you, Asha," Hunter responded. Thank the Maker. "What's happening over there? Are you safe?"

"I'm- ngh- I'm fine. A handfulla droids found the ship, but it seems like you guys took care of that problem?" she asked with a slight amused lilt in her tone, hoping to mask the pain. No doubt Hunter heard that grunt of pain. But if he did, he didn't address it.

"Get to our position, we need an extraction. Tactical droid is down, but getting back to the ship is gonna be..."

"Problematic," Tech's voice suddenly chimed in.

"Got it- coming to your coordinates, just hang tight, guys..." Asha mumbled before the line went quiet. Quickly, Asha grabbed an overshirt from her gear and tossed it on to cover the scorch – the fabric scratching across it sent shockwaves of pain through each burnt nerve – and as she steeled herself, she brought the ship airborne, and made her way down to where they had pinged.

Every movement was agony. The bolt had struck her shoulder blade, just narrowly missing her rearmost lekku – though she realized that it still felt a bit tender, so perhaps "missed" wasn't quite the right word. That wasn't what she had to focus on right now, though – Asha forced her attention away from her back, from the pain, and towards the ship controls and getting to the pickup point. When she brought the Marauder down and lowered the ramp, she was up in an instant – every movement of her back muscles sending a ripple of pain through her that she fought to ignore – and she brushed past Tech, Crosshair, and Wrecker, only to gasp in shock when she saw Hunter coming up in the rear, with Echo's limping form clutching him like a vice.

"What happened-?!" she barked as she immediately ducked out to help support Echo, help Hunter bring him aboard. Each movement made her want to scream, but she bit her tongue as she sat Echo down. Tech was at the controls before she even realized they were moving again, and as the ramp closed up, Echo all but threw his helmet off, a look of... not pain, but extreme discomfort contorting his face. Asha knelt to his side, a hand on his arm, and she looked at him with deep-set concern. "Echo, talk to me. I need you to tell me what's wrong. Let me help."

"My– my leg," Echo spoke through gritted teeth. "Mistimed a jump– landed wrong... it doesn't– it's not... working." His hand never left his thigh, and Asha looked down at it for a moment before she met his gaze again.

"Echo, I'm gonna remove your leg armor now– Hunter, can you grab my toolkit? I-I'm gonna get your armor off and I'm gonna ask that you– you roll up the pant leg. Just the one. I-I need to get at your leg and see what's wrong. Can you do that for me?" Asha's voice was shockingly clear even to herself, only barely stumbling over her words as she struggled to maintain composure. Adrenaline was running high, and she had one thing to focus on now: Echo. Hunter passed her tools to her, Asha helped Echo get his pant leg up, and she immediately winced at the problem.

"Okay... your knee joint has been knocked out of alignment," she spoke softly, as Echo's hand hovered anxiously over his thigh. "Here's– here's what I'm gonna do, okay? I'm gonna talk you through it. You're gonna be alright, Echo. I'm gonna fix it. Just focus on my voice. I'm deactivating the prosthetic now..."

She could see how tense he was at such a rushed, invasive repair – but it was a necessary one, as Tech got them all spacebound and the ship's ride smoothed out. Asha stayed kneeling as she pulled out her tools, and brought them up to the joint – Echo flinched. The leg didn't respond to his movement.

"Shh, shh... easy. Here's what I'm gonna do. These bolts are bent too far to repair..." Asha muttered, already working on removing the offending pieces. "So I'm gonna replace them, okay? Just focus on my voice. I'm pulling them out now. That's it..."

This continued for... a while. Tech was busy manning the cockpit, Hunter sitting with him – Crosshair was down below, and Wrecker was sitting nearby, watching anxiously and shockingly silently as Asha worked. She talked Echo through the whole thing – removing and replacing bent parts, realigning his joint. Rewiring what was needed and repairing the poor, abused augment.

"Okay, Echo, you're doing great... it's done, see? It's all done... it's done now. I'm reactivating the prosthetic... go ahead and roll your ankle for me?" Asha spoke softly as she sat back on her haunches, watching as she began to run the reflexive diagnostics. Echo looked down at his leg and did so, tentatively rolling his ankle around – so far, so good. "Good, good. Now bend your knee for me? Up and down, slowly now."

He did so, and Asha let out a low, long sigh of relief, as she slowly began putting her tools away. "There... there we go. You did great, Echo. I'm proud of you. Go on, go... go get some rest, okay?"

"...thank you," Echo muttered, standing up hesitantly as he rolled his pant leg back down. In all honesty, his leg felt as good as new. "But- Asha, what happened in here? On the wall–"

"Droid patrol found the ship before you guys took out the tactical," Asha grunted as she stood fully upright, already moving to head down to the lower deck. "I took one out before they all went down. Don't– don't worry about it. I'll buff out the scorches."

There was nothing more she wanted to do right now than to get down somewhere private, away from prying eyes, so she could quietly sit in agony and try to tend to herself. When she dropped down to the lower deck, however, one wrong move from the ladder was all it took...

Asha barely even remembered hitting the ground. In the wake of weaning adrenaline, that pain from the burn was coming back tenfold – the constant movement of piloting, of repairs, of making sure Echo was safe and secure and healthy, all commanding her movements, taking her mind off of the pain. But the moment she let go of the ladder, dropped her arms, that movement of scorched skin and muscle on her back sent her into vertigo, eyes rolling before she toppled over. In fact, she had scarcely hit the ground before she swore she felt arms underneath her. Was someone else with her-? Tech and Hunter were in the cockpit, Echo and Wrecker were in the main hall...

"...Cr...oss...?" Asha mumbled, ears ringing, before a low groan of absolute agony rumbled from her chest. Crosshair knelt above her – his ever-present scowl betrayed into something closer to concern, even with her vision stark-white and hazy. His arm looped around her back and that groan of pain rose in pitch to something closer to a quiet scream, and his arm immediately retracted – but he felt it. He felt the inflammatory warmth, and the stickiness matting her shirt that was getting harder and harder to hide. Without warning or decorum, he all but ripped the overshirt off of her shoulders, ripping another cry from her throat as he turned her over, pulling her close to his chest, peering at her back. She couldn't see his face, but she could hear him curse under his breath.

"...s going on?"

"Asha... 's been shot... n't notice?!"

"What?! Where d..."

The words were fading in and out, but she could clearly tell that it was Hunter... no doubt he heard her down here. A pair of arms was under her now, hauling her up – she was all but deadweight right now, but this was... too lithe to be Hunter. No... but wait, that only meant...

"...Cross...hair...?" she muttered, only earning her a quick "sh" in return. She felt herself being laid down, turned over. She heard words – muffled, distant. Her ears were ringing. It sounded like a warning. That was all she could discern before the peeling started.

He was peeling her shirt off, slicked with sweat and blood, as the frayed, charred fabric hooked to the burn on her back, and she screamed. Oh, Maker, did she scream. It was a shrill, horrid sound. It echoed through the ship. She felt it being peeled away, and that was the final sensation she could discern before rough, relieving unconsciousness finally latched onto her body, dragging her into its inky depths as a means of escape from the pain.

---

Consciousness came slowly. It was like the world was turning back on, one thing at a time. The first thing Asha could do was hear – the gentle hum of the engine. Something steady, grounding. The next thing she could do was feel. And with that, came the pain. Not as searing, not as stark – dulled, but still warm, heated, and sore. She groaned. She could hear that, too. She felt something underneath her, as well – thin, but cushioned. A mattress, military-issue. She felt something tight around her, constricting her. A hand weakly tried to raise, feel her chest. Slightly rough, with some elastic give... bandaging. She felt it tight around her back. She even felt it... they wrapped her rearmost lekku, too. As sensation slowly returned, Asha finally, slowly, let her eyes flutter open.

She was in a bunk. And she could hear something else.

"You really are surprising," a low, raspy voice spoke up, making Asha slowly turn her head. Crosshair was sitting up in the gunner loft, watching her. The bunk– his bunk? "I really, truly had no idea just how stupid one person could be."

"...good to see you too..." Asha mumbled, as she brought an arm up to cover her eyes in the crook of her elbow. "I-I was going to take care of it."

"Really?" Crosshair asked nonchalantly. "Before, or after you fainted?"

"After I did my job," Asha spat back, sounding more harsh than she meant to. Chalk it up to tension from the pain. "Echo was... was hurt. I-I couldn't let him just... sit there. Waiting for me."

"Tech could've gotten to him–"

"Tech was piloting, and it's not his mission to repair Echo. I-It's mine. I've got it in writing."

"Hm."

Crosshair offered no retort – just a disinterested "hm". Of course, he knew she had a point – and though he would never admit it... he had to admire that strength she showed. Pushing past her own pain, her own agony, in order to follow her orders and keep Echo safe. Even if she was an idiot for neglecting herself like that...

He understood it.

And as unconsciousness slowly claimed Asha again, accompanied by that hot, throbbing pain, Crosshair watched. He would never admit it, not openly, but... maybe she had proven that she'd last more than three rotations with them. Maybe she'd last seven. The smallest of smirks tugged up on his lips as he kept vigil.

What an idiot she was.

She was gonna fit right in.