#tbb tech drabble

[voidartisan]

Tech blinked his eyes open at the bottom of the ravine. Impossible— nearly. The fall was too long. His chances of survival were less than two percent. Even if he had, he certainly should not be free of pain. Perhaps he was in shock.

He raised a hand to adjust his goggles, and, to his surprise, found it pale blue and translucent. Fascinating.

“Yeah, it takes a little while to get used to.”

That voice… Echo?

No.

A reg, also blue and translucent, was perched on a boulder to his left, legs crossed, one foot dangling. His appearance did not differ much from standard, save for facial hair and a small tattoo on his right temple. It was too blurry to identify what it represented.

“My theory,” the apparition continued, “Was prolonged exposure to Jedi. You’re kinda throwing that off, though.”

Tech could do little more than blink. “Who are you?”

“Right, sorry,” the reg grinned, “Been following you guys around for so long I forget you don’t already know me.”

Tech squinted, looking more closely. Something began to stir in the back of his mind. Something Echo had shown him. That they’d spoken about at length

“The name’s Fives.”

[replaytech]

crosshair drabble cause that man has taken over my thoughts

- crosshair is the type of guy to literally act like your bodyguard. you wanna go on a mission by yourself? funny.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He picks up his helmet, “That’s nice. I’ll meet you on the ship.”

- will absolutely pick you up and throw you over his shoulder whenever you give him attitude.

“roll your eyes again, pretty.”

so you did. the two of you had gotten a little agitated with each other on this particular mission.

he sighs and flicks his toothpick to the ground.

you see his hands reach for your waist, “what are you-“, you cut off with a yelp as he throws you over his shoulder.

“I’ll put you down when you’re done with that attitude.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

he pats the area behind your knee, “how touching.”

- LOVES to pull you into a random alcove of the marauder and kiss you like the ship is going down. any minute he can get alone with you is a blessing. idc what anyone says, this man is a gentle kisser. the kind to put his hand on the back of your head to keep you in place UGH!!!

[archivistofnerddom]

The Batch + Getting forehead kisses from their partners

Hunter

Hunter carries so much weight that comes with keeping the family safe and together. You giving him this soft gesture is an acknowledgement of and silent thanks for everything he does. It’s a little action between you two.

With his heightened senses, Hunter frequently deals with overstimulation. You gently brushing back some of his hair and cupping his face calms him. His focus is solely on you in this moment. All his senses focus directly on you as you tilt his head back slightly to kiss his forehead. When you press that gentle kiss to his forehead, he glitches a bit and reaches out for you, holding you close to him.

He won’t say it, but he needs to have you so close to keep him from getting so overwhelmed by everything. And you understand. You stay close and lean into him, pressing one another kiss to his forehead as you hear him breathe more steadily.

Crosshair

He doesn’t trust easily, doubly so after what he survived with the Empire. Trusting you is a Big Thing for him. You can tell how much Crosshair needs gentle, soft reassurance that you’re still there, still around to support and love him.

Crosshair is tense when you slide next to him, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders with one arm. He looks at you intently. You shift yourself enough so that you can press a kiss to his forehead. Crosshair’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently, a little act of gratitude from him.

When you draw back a bit, he moves a bit and presses his forehead against yours. This feels safe. This feels like home. You feel warm when he acts like this with you. Crosshair is telling you that you are important to him without having to say anything.

Tech

This man always has something going on in his head, and he usually has four projects going on at once. Tech is a man of activity. He doesn’t slow down easily.

When you join him at his work bench, he’s happy. Tech likes having you nearby. He smiles at you when you lean over and sneak in a kiss to his forehead. You feel his hand sneak around your waist when you do, keeping you from stepping away after you finish that kiss.

Tech isn’t always good with his words, but he does show he cares with his actions. Accepting your kiss to his forehead and holding you close is one way he says he cares about you. Holding you close after you press this little kiss to his forehead is an enjoyable way for him to take a break from his work.

Wrecker

Wrecker is a very physically affectionate person. He loves openly and freely, often wearing his heart on his sleeve. When he has someone he loves deeply, Wrecker will let them know so clearly how much they mean to him.

You laugh when he pulls you down into his lap, one of his hands on your hip and the other around your back. Wrecker inhales sharply when you cup his face with both hands and kiss his forehead. His hand on your hip tightens a bit, a sign of how much you doing this means to him.

For Wrecker, this gentle sign of affection from you is also a sign that he is safe and can enjoy peace after war and being on the run. Wrecker likes being able to slow down and put down roots with his family and with you.

Echo

Look, Echo has been through a lot. He does so much to get his brothers to safety from their horrible treatment from the Empire. It’s a heavy thing that he’s handle, one that is thrown on top of him still recovering from his trauma at the hands of the Techno Union and his new life with three prosthetic limbs and cybernetic limbs.

You know how much that weighs on him, and it tugs at your heart. In the quiet moments between missions, Echo finds comfort being near you, often taking your hand in his good hand. Adjusting your position, you put your free hand on his scomp gently and press a little kiss onto his forehead.

Echo might be surprised by getting a forehead kiss from you, but he loves receiving it. Your acceptance of him as he is now means so much to him. Echo appreciates having quiet moments like these. He draws strength from having you around, especially as he’s dealing with so much for his brothers.

[tinywitchgoblin]

In The Kitchen

The Bad Batch x gn!reader, slight Hunter x reader if you squint

Word count: 584

Warnings: fresh pasta

a/n: just a lil’ domestic!TBB drabble. 

“Hey Wrecker, how’s the sauce coming?” you asked, not looking up from the task at hand. You were busy rolling out sheets of pasta dough, and you didn’t want to cause the dough to wrinkle or fold. Plus, since there were so many people to feed (including Wrecker), this was gonna take a while and you needed to focus.

“Good! I think it needs a bit more salt though, can you taste it?” he responded. 

“If someone brings me over a spoonful of it,” you stated. As you feed another sheet of dough into the machine, Echo comes over and puts a spoonful of sauce near your mouth. You leaned over and tasted it, thinking for a moment before giving Wrecker the go-ahead to add more salt. 

“How does this look?” Omega asked from her space on the counter. She was busy making the garlic bread, her favorite part of the meal. 

“Looks good, bud!” you affirmed. She beamed and went over to the oven, scooching Wrecker out of the way to put the tray of bread in before setting the timer. Coming over to where you were working, she asked, “What else can I help out with?”

“You could set the table,” you offered, nodding to the cupboard and drawer where the plates and silverware were respectively. Echo moved to the cupboard to grab the plates for Omega as she wasn’t tall enough to reach them herself. She accepted them with a quick thanks before placing them on the table in the middle of the room and going back for the silverware.

Finally, you finished rolling the pasta dough, so you switched out the rolling attachment for the cutting one. As you fed the dough through the machine once more, the pasta came out sliced and ready to be cooked. You stood back to admire your work, and Omega bounced over, saying, “It all looks and smells so good! I can’t wait to eat it!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Hunter, who propped himself up against the doorframe of the kitchen. He made eye contact with you and winked, causing you to look away and blush slightly. Echo rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself before going over to pour the drinks. 

The timer went off for the garlic bread, so you and Omega went to check on it, accidentally bumping into Wrecker in the process. It looked good, so you pulled it out and placed it on a hot pad in the middle of the table next to the salad that Omega had made earlier. Checking to see how everything was progressing, you asked, “I’m gonna start cooking the noodles, but it won’t take very long. Omega, can you go find everybody else and tell them to come in here for dinner?”

“Yep!” she said, skipping away. You could hear her calls of “Tech, Crosshair, Hunter, time to eat!” followed by Wrecker’s stomach gurgling loud enough for the whole house to hear. He shrugged and responded with, “What? I’m hungry.”

“It’s okay, we’ll be eating soon,” you reassured. He took the sauce and placed it on the table as well. You checked to make sure that the pasta was done, straining it and adding it to the already crowded table. As everybody filtered in and sat in their usual seats at the table, you couldn’t help but stop for a moment and think to yourself how lucky you were to have these little moments with the people you cared about the most.

[kybercrystals94]

Threat

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 10 | “Just when were you planning on telling us that? | Week 11 | “I didn’t think I would get this far.”

Rated: G | Words: 100

Hunter stares, slack jawed, at the thing lying on the barrack’s table. He heaves a long suffering-sigh. “Just when were you planning on telling me that you were building a battle droid?”

Tech shrugs one shoulder. “To be quite honest, I did not believe I would get this far without your noticing by mere observation.”

A hard look. “You can’t keep this.”

A gasp. “Why not? It is deactivated. It poses no threat.”

“I’ll pose a threat if it isn’t gone when I get back.”

As Hunter leaves the barracks, he hears Tech grumble on a breath, “...has no appreciation…”

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[stardust-kenobi]

Hey! I saw your requests are open. I absolutely love your work, and i how you're doing alright! I will take any opportunity I can to request Tech x Reader smut with Dom!Tech vibes 💜

Sorry I know you requested this a while ago but I’m just now getting around to it! Hope you enjoy this quick little drabble <3

Did someone say dom!tech 👀?? I am blushing

Tech x GN!Reader drabble

Warnings: rough/dom/possessive/jealous(?) tech, smut, 18+ minors DNI

How did you get here? How did you end up with your body shoved against the building behind 79’s, Tech’s cock buried inside of you, with his hand pressed against your mouth, suffocating your moans?

Quite frankly, you didn’t give a shit how you ended up here, you just knew you never wanted it to end.

Something lit a fire into Tech earlier in the night. Maybe it was the way that Rex couldn’t keep his wandering eyes off of you. Maybe it was even the revealing nature of the outfit you chose to wear. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d felt you, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s right, darling, take my cock” He growled against your ear, his thrusts turning brutal as he fucked you from behind.

This was not the Tech you knew in bed. This was a version of Tech with such a burning hunger for you that he couldn’t stand it not one minute longer. He was possessive of your body, his grip around you being relentless. You didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, you loved this. It was unexpected, and turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

“Maker, you are so good” He gritted through this teeth. Your cries of pleasure seeped through his fingers over your mouth.

He yanked his hand tighter against your face, causing your skin to burn, but it hurt so good.

“You want this whole bar to know who you belong to, hm?” He whispered against your ear. You nodded.

“Go ahead, then, darling. Tell them who fucks you this good” He smirked.

“Stars, Tech. You fuck me so good” You whimpered. In response to your filthy remarks, he fucked you faster and harder now. He loved watching your ass bounce against him with every thrust.

Your legs began to tremble as you became overwhelmed with your approaching orgasm. You felt the tingling form in your lower belly, and his cock filled you so perfectly, brushing your most sensitive places with every stroke. It was all too much.

“Come for me” Tech demanded.

You obeyed, feeling the rush of your euphoria wash over you. The feeling in your legs faded, as all sense of feeling centered in between your legs. Loud cries of pleasure escaped you, but Tech did nothing to suppress your expressions now.

“That’s it. Oh, Y/N, I’m going to fill you up” He faltered, his hips losing their rhythm as he spilled his release inside of you, marking you even more…as his.

[missfrieden]

I got bored on my way to work and then on the way home. So here I force a random drabble on you all.

Summary: Let's set the scene shall we? You jabe a random question for Tech, that catches him a bit off guard.

Rating: Mention of sex

Pairing: Techxreader (think I managed gender neutral)

Note: Hope all of you know what dyscalculia is. Because Tech having a partner which is useless with numbers, is endaring to me.

Word count: Listen drabbles are often from my phone notes, so yeah I ain't counting them.

Rabbits

That night, as Tech shook out your blanket, preparing the bunk for the both of you to settle in, you are lost in thought, a playful question forming in your mind. As you climbed into the bunk and snuggled down into the soft covers, you looked up at the man who had become the center of your galaxy. There was a hint of curiosity in your eyes as you turned to him.

“Tech?” you began, your tone light and inquisitive. Tech, always attuned to you, looked over with that familiar, attentive expression. “Yes, Y/N?” You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip, a nervous habit, as you considered how to phrase the question. But then, with a smile, you decided to just go for it. “Have you ever… I mean, have you ever counted how many times we’ve had sex? We’ve been together for about a year and a half now, so I was just wondering.”

Tech blinked, the question clearly catching him off guard. But true to form, he didn’t miss a beat. His mind quickly scanned through the mental data he always kept so meticulously organized, and within a moment, he delivered the answer with his characteristic precision. “Yes, I have,” he replied, almost too matter-of-factly. “We’ve had sex approximately 214 times, and that’s not including the individual rounds within each session, which total to 367.”

Your eyes widened in shock and surprise, mouth falling open slightly as you processed what he had just said. “Wait… what?” you laughed, clearly amazed. “Tech, that’s… we’re like rabbits!” Tech frowned slightly, confused by the comparison for just a moment before realization dawned on him. “Oh, you mean in terms of frequency,” he said, his expression clearing. “I didn’t intend to imply anything, I just… well, I tend to keep track of details like that. It’s a habit of mine.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his earnestness, your heart swelling with affection. The idea that Tech had been keeping such precise count was both endearing and a little surprising, but it was also so perfectly in line with who he was. “Tech, you’re amazing,” you said, still chuckling. “But seriously, why do you keep track of it?”

Tech hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Well,” he began, somewhat awkwardly, “I suppose it’s because I’m a person who finds comfort in data and patterns. Tracking these moments allows me to… analyze and understand our relationship in a more tangible way. It’s not just about the numbers, it’s about ensuring that our connection remains strong, that I’m meeting your needs… and, well, it’s just part of who I am.”

As he spoke, he began to stammer slightly, his usual composure wavering as he tried to articulate something that, for him, was both deeply personal and difficult to put into words. But before he could finish, ypu leaned in, placing a gentle finger over his lips to stop him. “Tech,” you start softly, your voice filled with warmth, “you don’t need to explain. I love that you’re so precise, that you care enough to keep track of things like this. Someone in this relationship has to be good with numbers, and if it isn’t me, then I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled at him, eyes shining with affection. You had always admired Tech’s incredible mind, the way he could handle complex calculations with ease, while you struggle with even basic math because of that stupid dyscalculia of yours. But you had never felt inferior because of it, Tech had a way of making you feel valued and appreciated for who you are, no matter what. Tech’s tension melted away as your words sank in, and he relaxed, returning your smile. “I just… want to make sure you’re happy,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “That’s the most important thing to me.”

Your heart swelled with love as you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “And you do,” you murmured against his mouth. “Every single day. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Tech. Not one thing.” You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the warmth of your connection surrounding you like a comforting blanket. When you two finally pull back, you settled against him, resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes, a contented smile on your lips.

“I’m really glad you’re the one who’s good with numbers,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a hint of playful teasing. “Because I know I can always count on you.” Tech chuckled softly, wrapping his arm around you and holding you close. “And I’ll always be here to count on,” he replied, his tone filled with warmth.

As you lay there, the quiet of the night settling around you, Tech couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the incredible person in his arms. You understood him in a way that no one else ever had, and you loved him for exactly who he was, numbers and all.

Main Masterlist

And as you two drifted off to sleep, Tech made a silent promise to himself that he would continue to cherish and protect this incredible bond you shared, ensuring that your relationship remained as strong and full of love as it had been since the very beginning.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd @sskim-milkk @heidnspeak

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hey lovely! Congratulations on the milestone! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I wish to humbly request Tech with a romantic fem!reader. Your choice of spice! (I’m happy with either SFW or suggestive!) 300 words with the prompt 1. "You... you really mean it, don't you?"

Thank you again lovely! 😘😘😘

One Game

Tech x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: insomnia, fluff

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: MAMA PINEAPPLE, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you like it 💚

The night is late, but your insomnia is out in full force. You toss and turn in your small bunk, as the Marauder careens through hyperspace. You sigh and decide to get out of your bunk to go do something other than trying to fall asleep. As you make your way through the corridor and towards the refresher, you see Tech sitting by himself and staring at his data-pad.

"Can't sleep either?" you say as you approach him.

Tech doesn't look up from his data-pad. "I prefer to work after the others have gone to sleep."

"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed.

"I presume that you cannot sleep?" Tech asks, still tapping on his data-pad.

"You presume correctly," you sigh, then flop down onto the seat next to him.

You both sit in silence for a moment.

"Hey," you say, breaking the silence. "Do you want to play dejarik?"

Tech lifts his eyes over his data-pad. "Not at this time."

"Please?" you ask. "I'm so bored. Just one game?"

Tech sighs. "If it will keep you quiet so I can finish my work, then I will agree."

"Sweet!" you exclaim.

You get up from your seat and set up the game on the holo-projector. You input your team and patiently wait for Tech to set up his team. The game goes on for several turns, and at one point, you thought you might actually beat him, but in the end, he still wins the round.

"You're very good at this," Tech says. "Perhaps we should play another round."

"You…" you say with a shocked expression. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"Mean what?" he asks.

"That's the first compliment you've ever given me," you say with a smile.

"Well," he begins as he adjusts his goggles, "it is a well-deserved compliment."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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[arcsimper5]

Passing

Guess whose brain decided it was on an angst trip this morning?

Post BB AU No pairing Just a short comm form drabble about things that have happened.

Warning for angst, major character death and grief. Characters features: Echo, Wrecker, Omega, Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Riyo Chuchi, Rex.

I wish I was writing this under better circumstances, but I know that, were the positions reversed, I’d want to know.

It’s been far too long, and we’ve left so much unsaid. I never realised how quickly time would pass.

We buried Echo under the huge oak tree at the end of the garden today.

Hunter still hasn’t spoken since he passed. In a way, we all knew it was coming. The nerves connecting his legs died a long time ago, his scomp shorting his implants out more often than not.

Rex is here too. He… isn’t good.

He still blames himself for sending Echo out. We all know Echo would have gone anyway, but survivor’s guilt hits hard. He’s staying for a while with two other troopers, Wolffe and Gregor. They’re nice, a bit quiet, but that’s to be expected.

Senator Chuchi showed up as well. Well, former Senator. She was dressed all in black. She didn’t stop crying.

I didn’t even know she and Echo were involved in any way. Apparently, they had a ‘thing’ once. Rex won’t elaborate. He still treats me like a kid, but at least it seemed to make him smile thinking about it.

There’s been so much we missed with Echo when he left with Rex. Part of me thinks we should have gone too.

That might be why Hunter is so quiet, if he’s thinking the same.

He’s getting old, he knows that. Echo knew that. But he kept fighting. Kept trying to take down the Empire.

Now it all feels a bit… empty.

The Empire is still there and still hurting people, and Echo is… he’s under the dirt, at rest, finally. He’s with his brothers. He’s back with Fives. I never knew Fives, but he told me so many stories.

I keep crying, but I know it’s selfish.I want him here. But his brothers are there. Most of them. Not you. Not Hunter.

Gonky has just sat next to the tree all day. He doesn’t seem to understand. Maybe he thinks Echo is charging, that he’ll wake up when he’s done. I tried to explain. It didn’t help.

The house is busy. I don’t like it.

Hunter prefers it quiet. Too much going on overwhelms him nowadays. His headaches are getting worse.

We tried to contact Tech a few rotations ago. His comm is still dead.

I know he doesn’t want to talk to any of us after what happened, but I thought he should know. You were always closest to him. If you see him, tell him…

Tell him we miss him.

Wrecker misses him.

He’s adjusted to losing his other eye well, all things considered. There are still times he feels useless, and he says as much. Today was hard.

He wanted to carry Echo down the garden, to help, but he couldn’t. He’s still sat by the lake. I think he might stay out there all night.

I’m going to clean up. There’s a lot to do now.

We’re cooking Pantoran roast porg tonight.

Riyo said it was Echo’s favourite. I’ve never tried it. I hope we can learn how to cook it. It would be nice to keep a bit of his memory with us.

A lot has happened, I know. But you should come home soon. It would be good to see you. It would be nice to visit Echo with you.

I’m not even sure if you’ll read this, but if you got this far, I only want you to know one thing.

We love you, Crosshair. And we’ll always be waiting.

O

xx

[thetravellerssnotebook]

What Kinds of Songs the Bad Batch Would Listen To

Echo:

Classics/Oldies

-Really just any sort of swing/cafe music from the 30's-50's. He's such a sweet gentleman, so old-fashioned and romantic <3. I don't think he would like much of the new stuff. Secretly a sucker for slow dances in the living room with candles while it's raining...

Hunter:

Classic Country/Classic Rock

-I feel like Hunter is a sucker for all the Marty Robins, Lynyrd Skynyrd, etc. stuff. Just the classic things that all your parents know and love. They're calming. They help him relax and remind him of easier days. And he deserves it

Tech:

Alternative Pop

-Just hear me out. Most people's impression of him is probably classical music and black tea and fancy, intellectual things of that sort, but I honestly think he would enjoy the upbeat, electronic, modern works by people like AJR, ALT-J, Imagine Dragons, etc. It just feels like him. I can imagine him listening to 'Weak' while tinkering under the console in the Marauder

Wrecker:

Parodies/Remixes/Youtube crap/Disney cartoon songs

-Honestly this man's music taste is just all over the place. I can easily see him listening to some stupid parody of 'Never Gonna Give You Up' while eating chocolate pudding at 3AM

Crosshair:

Chill Beats/Lofi/Chill Hip-hop

-Most people probably think he'd listen to hard rock or something, but honestly, this man has some really intense stress hidden deep down in there, and these things just help him relax and let go. Definitely vibing with a headset in the middle of the night in his bunk

[kylosspaceprincess]

tbb horny drabble!!

not super nsfw but its implied

tbb x reader, tech x reader

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

It was like you were in heat or something. Can humans even go into heat? A question that Tech would know the answer to, but there was no way you’d ever ask. Then you’d have to explain what started it.

For the past few days, it had gotten worse. Glimpses, here and there. Eye contact. Lingering gazes while your mind drifted. 

Their helmets covered their faces entirely, yes, and their blacks had a sort of mock turtleneck thing going on, but sometimes, at the right angle, you could see their necks. The bottom of their chins.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen their faces before, but when they had their helmets on you couldn’t see any skin. Or so you thought. It was thrilling, like you saw something you weren’t supposed to. A vulnerable bit of exposed flesh, not protected by armor.  It was addicting to try and catch a glimpse.

You first noticed it when Tech was lying on his back underneath a console, trying to get to some wiring. You bent down to ask if he needed some help and almost choked on the words as your eyes met a flash of tan skin. You could see the muscles in his neck move as he answered you, see the bottom of his jawline flex. He said no, thankfully, so you scurried away, wondering if you could see all of their necks like that if you caught the right angle.

Turns out, you can. They all had the bottoms of their chins exposed this whole time. It was like you’d discovered a secret nobody knew. 

It turned you on.

It’s not that it hadn’t occurred to you that each member of the squad was attractive, it certainly had, but you’d gotten used to being around them as you tagged along on missions. And since you were always with them when something was going on, they always had those helmets on. So it was easy to forget. Or ignore it. Or try to. 

Until this recent discovery, that is. Now, not only did you try your best to catch sight of their necks like some sort of desperate vampire, you also longed for them to take their helmets off as often as possible.

[clone-anon]

This is for  @starqueensthings since anon asks aren’t on

Tech was talking about the local fauna of the planet you’d just landed on.  You were following, getting off the ship, walking together, and listening to him go on and on, smiling to yourself.  His mind and desire to know all he could were part of why you fell for him.

You looked up at him, silly grin on your face, as you both paused under the shade of a tree.  Tech continued reading from his datapad.  You weren’t simply watching and listening to him anymore.  Time seemed to slow down as you watched his lips form words.

“Mesh’la?”  He stopped to take off his helmet and adjust his goggles. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you replied, looking from his lips up to his eyes and smiling. “I just love your talk bumpers.”

Tech gave you the playful side eye look he only reserved for you when it became clear just how enamored one of you was with the other.  Although it had taken him some time to get used to your personal vernacular, he loved your way of describing things.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he asked, “My talk bumpers?”

“Mmm, yes,” you replied. You kissed his lips softly and whispered, “I love your talk bumpers.”

Tech blushed, but returned the kiss.  “I love your lips too.”

[replaytech]

you know what’s not talked about nearly enough? HOW HOT TECH IS IN S2 EP4 WHEN HES RACING??? LIKE HELLO?? I NEED HIM??!?? SO BAD??!!??!?

[sev-on-kamino]

30 Days of Blossoming Romance (6)

Day 6: Asking them about their family (prompt list here)

Tech x afab!Reader (another one w/ a non medic reader?! what? branching out like a tree over here)

warnings: fluffy, it’s still early days, but not brand new

word count: 1005 (anxious about every single one, let’s gooooooo!!!)

You’d been working at tiny electronics shop on Ord Mantell for as long as you could remember. As a kid, you came by after school to pester the owner with questions. As a teenager, you picked up a part-time job. You mostly helped older people who were behind the times. By the time you were finished with school, you’d saved up enough to buy into the shop as a partner.

You still helped a lot of older folks, and folks who were just passing through. You loved it, and couldn’t think of a single thing you wanted beyond those 4 walls besides your cute little apartment.

Then Tech walked in, and wrecked your little slice of satisfied heaven. He was everything you didn’t know you needed, and you cautiously pursued him, fearing heartbreak. He’d been oblivious at first. Keen to chat with you whenever he was in town, but your attempts at flirting hadn’t registered.

After another round of unsuccessful attempts, you just told him you had feelings for him, and asked to kiss him. He’d been surprised, but he gave his consent just the same. Everything after the kiss had been easy, enjoyable, and educational. Tech had taught you so many things except for the one thing you wanted to know everything about: himself.

“Your ship is really cool, but I wanna know more about you, Tech,” you said, sitting in the floor of the Marauder’s cockpit.

“Why is that?” He’d asked, sliding out from beneath the console, and sitting up. You grinned as he pulled off his helmet, letting you enjoy his handsome face for once.

“Because I wanna know everything about you. Embarrassing stories from your childhood, your favorite things, your family,” you replied counting off on your fingers. “You’ve learned so much about me, but you’re very good at keeping yourself quite the mystery.”

“I’m sure one of my brothers would be happy to tell you a few of those, which is why I haven’t let them meet you yet.” He began, rising from the floor, and holding out his hand to help you up as well.

“Is that the only reason?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s the main reason,” he insisted.

“You afraid they won’t approve of me?” your tone is teasing, but it’s something you genuinely worried about. When he did mention his family, it was clear he held them in high regards, and their opinions would matter.

“Quite the opposite. They may like you too much.”

You beamed at that, thrilled at the thought he wanted to keep you all to himself.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk, and you can tell me stories about them. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo, right? And Omega, your little sister?” You held your hand out to him.

“And Crosshair,” he added, taking your hand.

“Crosshair? A new brother emerges from the fog of Tech’s history.”

Leading you out of the ship and steering you towards town, he scoffed.

“I’m certain I’ve mentioned him before,” he hummed before adding. “We were quite close.”

“Were?”

“Crosshair is on a different path than we are,” his tone gave you the sense it was a sensitive topic.

“Sorry for prying,” you said sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright. I like that you’re curious.” He laced your fingers together, and you looked up at his profile, unable to keep from smiling.

“Ok, so tell me about Hunter. He’s the oldest right?”

Tech relaxed slightly, you weren’t sure he was ever completely at ease. “Yes, the oldest, and he very much lives up to the expectations of an older brother.”

“Let me guess: cramping your style, fussing over you, being almost parent-like? But also incredibly cool, and something of a role model?”

“You sound as though you’re speaking from experience.”

“I have an older brother too. He’s…” you hesitated, wondering if you’d ventured far enough into this relationship to tell Tech you were related to a smuggler. “A traveler. Always off on some new adventure.”

“Would he approve of me?” Tech asked, echoing your earlier concern.

“Stars, no. He would think you were encouraging me to be soft, and put down roots,” you confessed with a grin.

“Hmm, Crosshair would say the same about you.”

“Awww, am I making you soft, handsome?” you asked, stepping into his path, and looking up into his amber eyes.

“Perhaps,” he replied, eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I’m definitely quite soft for you,” you said quietly, rising up on your tiptoes, as he leaned down to let his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. You pulled back grinning from ear to ear, not even caring that you were in the middle of the street.

“We’ve gotten distracted from your original line of questioning,” Tech said, clearing his throat, and tugging you along.

“Ah yes! Your family. So we’ve got your favorite brother, who’s AWOL.”

“What makes you think he’s my favorite?” he protested, but you ignored him and continued your list.

“Your older brother, who’s much better than mine.”

“Your words not mine, cyar’ika.”

“So that leaves Echo, Wrecker and Omega!”

“Well, Echo and I have grown closer. He’s intelligent and capable. I think you’d like him quite well,” He looked thoughtful a moment before continuing, “Wrecker is rambunctious to say the least, but incredibly reliable and kind. As for Omega, she is probably like you were as a child, I imagine.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Inquisitive, energetic, perceptive. Traits you still exhibit even now,” he gave your hand a squeeze, and you feel your face warming up.

“You know I just want to meet them more now, right?”

“I’m not remotely surprised,” he replied, shaking his head.

“No rush, you can keep me all to yourself for a little while longer,” you raised your linked hands to press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.

“I’d like that,” he replied, smiling softly, as you carried on aimlessly through the streets, with no destination other than a greater understanding of each other.

[chicknstripz]

∘₊✧ [[ Kindred Spirits ]] ✧₊∘

Pairings || None Warnings || Paranoia, Mentions of ‘Decommissioning’, Eugenics, Bullying.  Synopsis || Jaing learns something new about the cloning program, and Tech learns that the Batch aren't the only deviants in the facility. Chapters || [1][2] (reposted as the original wouldn't allow me to change the format)

The mess was a riot of sound, a constant chatter that grated on Jaing’s nerves as he gave the space a quick once over.

Kaminoans? None. Alphas? Again, none, the usual threats completely absent.

So why then, were his instincts on edge? A frenzied itch that started at the back of his scalp and tingled down his spine. Another look, another check, but again nothing, his paranoia rising as he tried to narrow down the threat. There had to be something! It wasn’t like his instincts to lie to him about this kind of thing, the swirl of anxiety settling in the space just above his heart as he eyed the chow line.

“Where’s the rest of your pathetic batch?”

He halted in mid-stride, the jibe instantly rousing his anger. Expect the jibe wasn’t aimed his way - a quick swivel of his head revealing the cause of his paranoia.

A crowd of cadets had gathered around one of the tables, their broad backs hiding the object of their unsavory attention. At first he thought the troopers had ganged up on one of his brothers, his eyes narrowing as he stormed his way across the room, but the closer he got the more certain he became that this wasn't a null. Soft brown hair, a shade lighter than his own peeped out from between shoulders, followed by a spectacled face - the set of the eyes revealing slight frustration at the attention as Jaing stopped just behind the apparent ring leader of the group.

“I don’t know who said that, but you better kriff off - the lot of you.”

“Make us!”

He gave the idiot what Kal would call ‘the null special’, his lips peeling back to reveal his pearly whites.

“You don’t want that, it tends to be painful.”

The trooper gave him a quick once over, scoffed, then walked off, which was for the best as Jaing didn’t want to start another brawl in the mess hall.

“That was completely unnecessary, I had the situation under control.”

“Like hell you did.”

Jaing huffed as he seated himself opposite the cadet, the seat protesting as he leaned his weight into its back. He’d put on a lot of muscle in the past year or so, his frame filling out as he transitioned from spindly youth to bulky soldier, and he could see Tech reaching the conclusion all Troopers did when they met him for the first time.

“You are an ARC Trooper, are you not?”

He watched the kid trace his finger across the screen of his datapad, the movement precise as he dumped a mouthful of information that’d more than delight Prudii.

“Kaminoan data suggests there are two ARC variants in production. The first is the alpha variant, a batch of one hundred and fifty soldiers who’ve had their genetics carefully curated by Nala Se. The second is the trooper variant, forward thinking individuals who’ve been singled out by their commanders as being worthy of specialized training. Based on your build and age, I would say you were the former.”

Jaing scoffed. If there was one thing he hated, it was being mistaken for an alpha!

“If I was an alpha I would have punched first and asked questions later.”

“Then, what, exactly, are you?

“A disappointment"

Tech clearly didn't get the joke, the arc of his brows visible over his goggles as he rolled his thumb into the corner of the screen - just like Prudii would do when he got frustrated with something.

"That's hardly an explanation"

"It was for the Kaminonans."

The cadet was still giving him that look, the amber of his eyes boring into him with such intensity that he felt like he was looking at a fellow null.

"You're a deviant then? Interesting. I thought there were only four of us."

Jaing jolted at the off-hand comment, his anxiety rising to a fever pitch at the very idea that he’d missed something important. How could he, the data slicer extraordinaire, have missed that there was another deviant batch of clones? Unless, of course, this cadet had been lied to? He wouldn’t put it past the awiha bait to run psychological experiments on run of the mill troopers.

“I was under the impression the Kaminaons stopped the production of specialized units not long after the Alpha run.”

He watched the younger clone tip his head, his thumbs settling in the lower corners of his datapad whilst he digested his words. Jaing was familiar with what a highly intelligent individual looked like, knew well the tells and traits of someone that had eidetic memory, and whilst he didn’t think this clone had perfect recall he did think he had something close - the gracile brows setting low over his eyes as he lowered his ‘pad to the top of his thighs.

“I’m no expert on the matter, but I would recon - based on our growth charts and mental capacity - that we were produced shortly after the first batch of gen-ones were decanted.”

Jaing closed his eyes as he built a mental image of this new timeline, the production of whatever Tech was slipping neatly between the Alpha program and the gen one troopers.

“So that’d make you, what, three years my junior?”

“Impossible! There are no variants on record that pre-date the Alphas, and most of them are two years our senior.”

He motioned for the cadet to hand him his datapad, his fore and index fingers curling in a ‘give it here’ gesture that made the youngster huff in vague worry - as if he was going to ruin the device.

“Udessi kih’vod, I’m not going to ruin your ‘pad. If anything, it'll be in a much better condition when I return it.”

The kid clearly doesn’t believe him, the hard stare invoking a sense of deep kinship that made Jaing feel sorry for his brothers. How many times had he given them the exact same look? His lips pursed into a thin line as one of them, usually Prudii, tried to techsplain a technical problem he’d already solved. The ‘pad settled into his palm, a familiar weight that settled his nerves as he turned the screen toward him for a cursory inspection. Impressive firewall and VPN, with what looked to be a handmade GUI, the image laid over a system that definitely was not GAR standard.

“This your work --”

He left an open for the kid to introduce himself, the fingers of his right hand lifting from the back of the ‘pad as he did so.

“CT-9902”

“I don’t do the whole designation thing kih’vod, just give me your name.”

“Tech”

“Jaing”

Tech nods, giving him another examination that left him exposed.

“As in the mandalorian training master?”

“Yes, as in the training master”

Jaing isn’t comfortable with the whole ‘being named after a legendary mandalorian’ thing, none of them are - especially not Mereel, but they’ve lived with their monikers for so long that changing them feels wrong. So they live with the impossible expectations, with the skeletons in the closets - the pains of a past that wasn’t theirs stacking alongside the pain of a flash pumped education and growth spurts.

“Surprised you know about that to be honest.”

“I’ve been doing some light reading, figured it’d come in useful if we ever get sent to Mandalore.”

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug as he slips his datachip into Tech’s terminal, watching with immense satisfaction as the cadet’s in-built system checks for viruses.

“Just as long as you remember to take what you read with a grain of salt.”

“I’m well aware that the vast majority of historical texts are ‘written by the victor’, and thus liable to be full of bias.”

Good. Good. Whomever has been teaching the cadet has a good head on their shoulders, which is for the best if you ask him. Too many of the troopers are getting a shoddy education, their flashpumping followed by a hasty run through live sims that made his gut churn, and too few are being exposed to the mandalorian mindset - their inability to think on their feet dooming them to death. He sighs as he opens the file he’s looking for, the corners of his lips sinking as he sets the item to the top of the table, and slides it across to Tech.

“Then you’ll get a kick out of this.”

“What, exactly, am I looking at?”

“A redacted file that was supposed to be destroyed when the aiwha bait started mass-production of the gen-ones”

He watched Tech’s eyes flitter over the information, the press of his lips growing thinner and thinner, until only a sliver of skin remained - the skin bone white with the pressure as his eyes surveyed him from over the top of the pad.

“It’s not often I’m rendered mute, but this is--”

“Unethical?”

“That would be the correct word, however I find it wholly unfitting of the information revealed by this text. ‘The remaining units have been assessed for behavioral issues following the completion of their flash training. It is our findings that they, and I’m quoting here, are highly aggressive, and unfit for duty. Therefore it is our recommendation they be designated Null and sent for decommissioning.’”

Tech placed his datapad to the table, the silent fury in his eyes poking at the small part of Jaing’s brain that formed tight connections with his vode.

“However, I don’t see anything in this report that indicates why your, huh-hum, issues should warrant such an order. High intellect and, as Wrecker would so quaintly put it, the balls to ignore illogical orders, are favorable for special forces.”

“Tell that to the Kaminoans.”

The pair fell into a long silence, a deep understanding of the other forming as they watched the comings and goings of the various battalions. Tech found in Jaing a much needed sign that he wasn’t alone, that there was at least one other trooper that shared in his genius. Jaing felt similar, though he still wasn’t sure how or why the Kaminoans had made another ‘high-end’ batch when he had turned out so poorly.

“So -- your batch -- what special traits did they breed into you?”

Tech shrugged, scrolling his finger up the screen as he continued to scan through the file Jaing had shared with him.

“It varies. Hunter, our sergeant, has heightened senses. He can feel the electromagnetic pulses that run through the facility, a ground based radar if you will, makes it impossible for us to get lost. Wrecker, well, he’s built like the commandos. Tall, broad, and muscular. Can easily haul three times his weight from one end of the sim to the other. Then we’re got Crosshair --”

There’s a pause, a brief breath that tells Jaing this vod is the ‘outsider’ of the group.

“-- he’s had his eyesight enhanced, can hit a precise target from across the mud pan.”

Tech lifts his free hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together to demonstrate the size of the target, and Jaing - precise and skilled Jaing - whistles in admiration as he knows just how hard it is to hit a target that small from nine hundred yards away.

“And then there’s you, the genius.”

“I will admit that my intellect is far higher than the regs, however I wouldn’t call myself a genius -- not yet by any rate.”

Humility, as Kal would say, was a good trait for a mando’ade to have, the soft air of it hanging around the -- commando? Jaing isn’t quite sure what to call Tech just yet, but he does know he’s been bred and trained for something other than regular field work, and that? That riled something in him, the sense of ‘something’s not right here’ sitting deep in his gut as he drummed his fingers on the table top.

“Have you ever wondered why they made you?”

Tech cocks his head, completely unbothered by the null asking what, would be to some, a rude question.

“It is not my place to ask the wherefores.”

“Well then maybe it should be!”

And there it was, the key difference between him and whatever Tech was - the deep and rooted ember that landed him and his brothers on the chopping block. Jaing couldn’t accept what he’d been told as the truth, couldn’t sit back and go with the flow like the so-called ‘regs’ did. No. He asked questions. He prodded and pried, slipped his way into places he didn’t belong solely because he couldn’t accept that life was black and white, and accepted that the later gens didn’t think like that? It was kriffing hard! His mind a whir as he remembered the insurmountable wall that existed between him and his kih’vode.

“Sorry. I sometimes forget myself.”

“It’s quite alright. I too, find my mouth running ahead of my thoughts on the odd occasion.”

Well at least he hadn’t offended him. It really would be a new low on the ‘Jaing tries to make friends with someone’ ladder, which wasn’t that high a ladder in the first place, but hey, he was trying here, his shoulders dropping from his ears as he tapped the side of his vambrace.

“Jate, Jate, I’d hate if it was just me putting my big ole boot in my mouth.”

Tech smiled, the first true smile he’d seen from the fellow cadet since he sat down, and Jaing was struck by how young he looked - his cheeks and jaw still rounded with fat.

“I take it it’s not a trait you share with the rest of your batch?”

“Not to this degree, no.”

He definitely had it the worst, though Mereel and A’den were a close second when it came to the fine art of unintentionally insulting aruetiise.

“I could go on and on like this all day, but I don’t have the time nor the energy.”

“Training sims?”

“No. We’re being trained the good old fashioned way.”

“Perhaps you will care to enlighten me about that the next time we talk?”

Jaing would usually say no to a next time, would usually insist that he keep himself to himself, but Tech? He was different. He wanted to spend time with him, wanted to learn, and who was he to say no when he’d been complaining about Tech not being trained right not half an hour before?

“How about we make a deal? I will tell you about my training regime if you promise to look into why the Kaminoans made you.”

“Deal!”

Jaing felt accomplished as he shook Tech’s hand, the unsettled feeling slinking to the back of his mind as the topic of conversation drifted to what was being offered in the mess. Later he’d tell Kal about his worrying discovery, would tell his father about this odd clone he’d met, but for now all he cared about was this blooming friendship with a like minded soul.

[literallyjustanerd]

Scar Tissue - The Bad Batch

Set immediately after season 2, so spoilers if you're not caught up. Got in my feelings about how the batch would handle their situation and this happened. Enjoy my angst! Echo cops most of it because I love putting my favourites through the most pain.

Words: 1803

            There is a type of silence that feels tangible. A type of silence that seems to live and breathe and think. A type of silence like a creature lurking, a predator. Unseen, though its presence grates keenly on your senses and drives you back, caging you in until even the tempered rise and fall of your chest is an unwelcome intrusion. A thin, ragged breath is driven from Hunter’s lungs. His heart pounds in his throat, like the frenzied hoofbeats of a wounded animal. His fists clench, fighting in vain against the tide that drags his mind back to the hell they’d just clawed out of.

Desperately, he digs beneath the silence, enhanced senses searching for ground, for the blanketing whir of the engines or the dull hum of hyperspace to keep him in his body. Instead, he hears Wrecker a dozen feet away, sitting on the ledge of the tailgun pit, his breath leaving him in short bursts that he tries to disguise. Unbidden, Hunter’s chest seizes, forcing his eyes away from his brother’s pained expression. Too long ago had their fury burnt out and left them with only the ashes of their grief. And yet, when Hunter turns his senses to the front of the Marauder, he alights on Echo’s heartbeat: steady, slow, rhythmic as marching drums. No trace of pain lingers in his expression – his brow is set but uncreased, his jaw square but slack. Hunter’s upper lip twitches. Among the ashes, an ember sparks to life.

            It had been this way since that first moment. Since the worst had happened. Fleeing like beaten strays, hey had returned to Ord Mantell and touched down at Cid’s with broken bones the least of their pains. It shamed him to admit it, but Hunter had almost been relieved that he had Omega’s condition to focus on, to keep his mind away from where it kept trying to stray. From the look on Tech’s face as he vanished beneath the clouds. He stayed by Omega’s bedside, despairing in her every exhale, cursing himself and all he had done to lead his squad here, before she inhaled again and started the cycle anew. Wrecker was listless, aimless, his limbs seeming for once as heavy and cumbersome to him as they did to everyone else. He had been slumped over the bar when Hunter had left him, staring into the stained benchtop like it would give him an answer.

            And Echo. Echo, who had stayed on the ship to review holomaps and plot possible flightpaths. Echo, who had come to Hunter with a list of questions about their next destination, about supplies and inventory. Echo who had passed out rations, splitting Tech and Omega’s shares among the three of them without so much as a sigh. As if their entire world hadn’t just ground to a screeching, violent halt. As if ration bars and blaster repair had any meaning at all anymore. It was absurd. Unthinkable. Hunter could scarcely make sense of what Echo was doing, couldn’t even gather the sense to feel anger at his apathy. Instead, when Echo had offered the rations, Hunter had merely stared his brother down, his face clearly betraying his dismay, and searched Echo for any sign of acknowledgement of what had happened. When Echo’s expression showed only confusion at a lack of answer, Hunter had pushed silently past Echo, leaving him on the ship to run routine maintenance like this was any other day.

            Hunter had not felt his confoundedness give way to anger until after the next catastrophe. Until now, with Omega long gone, torn straight from their very hands. Hunter can barely stand to keep breathing, and still Echo sits before him, tapping away at a datapad, eyes moving in deliberate, unhurried arcs across the screens.

“There’s an outpost not far from here we can stop at to resupply,” he says, and the emptiness of his voice enrages Hunter. There’s nothing there. No pain, no crushing weight of guilt or horror, no sign that Echo is, like Wrecker and himself, standing with his toes over a precipice and leaning forward. His statement goes unanswered, and Echo does not even waver at this.

            Hunter finally snaps when Echo makes his way to Tech’s shelf, leans down, and digs into Tech’s pouch to fish out a handful of credits.

“The hell are you doing?” he says, his voice a low, warning growl. Echo straightens.

“We need plast to patch up our armour and bacta for the wounds,” he replies, and his voice is so kriffing sensible that Hunter wants to scream. “Won’t be cheap. We need all the credits we can get.”

“So you go rifling through your dead brother’s bags to get them?”

This, finally, gives Echo pause. He draws his chin up, tightens his jaw. A crease has appeared at his brow.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means,” Hunter snarls. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Echo studies Hunter’s face for a long, lingering moment. The longer his brother’s eyes search him, the more Hunter feels the impulse to do something he’ll regret. He feels raw, volatile. A fire starved for fuel.

“We need to stay focused,” Echo says finally. “We have a mission to complete.” As infuriating as Echo’s eyes had been on him, it’s worse when Echo looks away and turns his attention back to the console. Hunter lets the flames consume him, anger searing away the pain like a cauterised wound.

            “Doesn’t seem like you care a whole lot either way,” he hears himself say, and Echo’s head snaps up like he’s just been shot at. He stands.

“Is there a problem, Hunter?”

“You tell me, Echo. Sure seems like you’re not having a single problem here.”

Silence senses its opening and begins once again to stalk the two of them, but before it can sink its teeth in it is disturbed by a soft, pained groan from across the cockpit. Hunter is taken aback by the sight: Wrecker looks small.

“Don’t,” he pleads. Through the barricade of Wrecker’s arms, Hunter can just barely see Wrecker worrying Lula’s ear between his fingers. “No fighting. Not now. We can’t.”

Echo’s sigh is heavy, his eyes falling momentarily shut.

“I know this is hard. But we need to stay on our feet here. We can’t afford to slow down.” “Do you hear yourself?! Can’t afford to slow down?! We just lost a brother and let the karking Empire take Omega, and you’re talking about staying on our feet?!” Hunter can’t tell if the tremble in his voice sounds as clear as it feels, whether it’s the grief or the anger that wins. Either way, he has edged over the precipice and plunged into freefall, no other way out now than to go down, down, down.

            “Hunter, I know how much it hurts. Really, I—” “Could’ve fooled me,” he spits, the words venomous, weaponised. “From where I’m sitting, you’re doing a pretty lousy job of pretending to care.”

If Hunter had been anywhere close to his own mind, he would have regretted the words as soon as they’d spilled from his lips. But they had burst forth from him as though he were only a bystander. In fact, he scarcely felt he was in control of his own limbs, until Echo’s next words brought him plummeting back down into his body with a weight like solid stone.

            “Do you know how many times I’ve been through this?” he utters.

His voice is soft, suddenly coreless, like the first dregs of a gathering fog. It’s enough of a shock to strike Hunter dumb. Echo continues nonetheless.

“You’ve never lost one of your own before. Not like this. Not like how we lost Tech.” The name is a hail of shrapnel in Hunter’s chest. His ears prick: Echo’s breath shudders when he inhales. “But I have.”

The words hang thick in the air, demanding silence in their wake. Hunter has not thought much of Echo’s time with the other regs. Has never really thought of Echo as a reg at all. The reality comes to him all at once, discordant and unwelcome, like a dozen different songs played over each other. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to meet his Echo’s piercing gaze.

“Do you have any idea how many brothers I’ve seen die?” he breathes. He does not look away. Does not even blink. “Do you have any idea how many I didn’t get to see die?”

            There is nothing beneath the silence now. When Hunter searches for it, the whir of the engine is not there, and the dull hum of hyperspace has faded away to nothing. Not even the sound of his own breathing reaches him.

“Every time,” Echo quavers, his resolve at long last beginning to crack, “Every time I stepped off a battlefield, there was another handful of brothers I’d already said my last words to. Sometimes weeks ago.” Echo’s eyes shine, his lip trembling with a memory he does not give voice to. “Sometimes years.”

“Echo, I—”

“You think it doesn’t hurt for me that Tech’s gone? That we lost Omega? Of course it kriffing hurts. Of course I feel it. How could I not? That pain… it’s the most familiar feeling I have.”

It’s too much. Hunter falters, breaks his eyes from Echo’s. His gaze falls, landing on his brother’s shaking hand instead. Echo continues. “We’re soldiers. We lay down our lives for what we believe in. And I, for one, respect Tech’s sacrifice too much to waste it by letting the pain get the better of me.”

            There’s a type of guilt that has claws. A type of guilt that shreds you from the inside out and leaves you hollow and weightless. A type of guilt that burrows into your memories and tears holes in your past, letting light shine through from the present to show you every ignorant thought and deed in bright, garish light. Hunter tries to speak, but words are beyond him, his mouth hanging useless and ajar. It’s Wrecker who breaks the cold war between them. He stands, plods softly over to Echo. Lula still held tightly in one hand, the other laid gentle but firm on Echo’s shoulder.

“I got a few credits to spare for bacta,” he says. Echo regards him for a long moment, then lays his own hand atop Wrecker’s. The quiet vulnerability in the look they share is what draws Hunter to his feet. There are a thousand words he wants to say. That he would say, if he thought any of it would be worth more than the quiet nod he shares with his brother as he approaches the console.

“Show me the flight plans you were working on.”