#tech lives AU

[letshareapapou]

For the sensory prompt

38.A person’s weight as they lie on top of you

Could be Echo with anyone or a polybatch pile, as you want

Tech's sleep schedule was erratic, it wasn't new but since his return it was...violent. Echo understood, of course he understood, so when Tech fell asleep, when it was deep, and peaceful, Echo stayed awake. Tech coming back was...a miracle, Echo hadn't thought he believed in those, and while the weight of the warm body next to him wasn't Fives it was something so familiar that soothed an ache so deep, there was no force in the universe that could part him from it.

[techwrecker]

TECH LIVES AU

I've OFFICIALLY started my tech lives fic.

Here's what to expect:

-starts right at the end of the season 3 finale

-multi-chapter

-Tech & Crosshair parallels 👀

-Cadet Force 99 (kids)

-A N G S T w/ an eventual happy ending (maybe. we'll see)

Here is the link!

I hope you enjoy it ^u^ <3

[squad-724]

WATCH OUT! SPOILERS FOR THE FANFICTION „Project Failsafe” up ahead!

A gift for @clownery-and-fuckery in exchange for Hybrid Batch snippet >:] a scene from their fic

[thecoffeelorian]

Plan 100...?

Plan 100 (Crosshair x Reader)

Premise: As the fourth installment of the "Surprise Guest" series, you and Crosshair are careful to let Omega rest on your way to your rendezvous point, but not without planning your own next few steps.

Word Count: 1.2 k.

Masterlist: The Surprise Guest Series

Story Notes: Hoo boy...I think I've just reached the 'deep in the underbrush' phase for the next leg of this saga, yet as I watched all of S1 and read the episode transcripts for the others, never mind beginning to take romance lessons from the "Bridgerton" show, editing this installment exactly 7 times, and slowly pulling out a few things from my personal life angst closet...I will not be doing this lightly. There is so much that I wish this show could have properly addressed as well rather than setting it up in every first half and then knocking it down in every second half, so I will do my absolute darndest to cover it all myself.

Special Notes: My credit goes to @stars-n-spice for creating the beautiful Crosshair header, as well as to @talesfrommedinastation for inspiring me to use a form of sign language for silent communication after watching "The Expanse".

No Pressure Tags: @momojedi @calicos-clones @bigboypantstime @youreababboon @techhasmjolnir

@tink1221 @ms-grassi @galaxyglittering @littlefeatherr @donntmindmejustwandering

@housepartyfortwo @beatthisbi @mysticalgalaxysalad @groguandthebadbatch @pendustt

@weirdest-lights @flyiingsly @courtney0-0 @emmaflame1336 @shadow-rebel-223

@littlemammoth69 @theosb0rnway @shazkenobi @reader6898 @maxims-multifandom-corner

@monster20045 @darkangel4121 @nevadastarrsworld @thatacefr @crosshair-lover

@bennieandthejets-5 @jamine-boi-124 @lani03sstuff @ttzamara @beezez-blog

@myeternalsin @sublimeclodkidcolor @nish-xiii @ash04w3 @clonereeses

@lllllmm @melymigo and anybody else who might be on the lookout for more Crosshair x Reader content, because I couldn't have made this series without you all. <3

You're out of that spaceport before whomever or whatever might be following you notices your escape, your family's slightly used shuttle giving you all the speed you need to make your flight. It’s quiet on board almost as soon as you leave the atmosphere, too, yet sometimes, quiet can be exactly what everyone needs to clear their heads.

Nowhere is this more evident than your own cockpit, a small but comfortable space that carries the control console; a few chairs with safety harnesses; one old childhood drawing of yours kept in a place of honor upon the wall, and a mini-fridge to the left. You had a few minutes to gather up some food and drinks before heading out, so of course, you were careful to add the packs of dried meat and lemonade so that at least one person could add some missing salt and sugar to their system if they needed it.

Someone like Omega, even, for she’s careful to ask you nicely before you hand her one of the lemonades. Whatever this one has just been through, wherever she’s been…you can only try your best to alleviate her transition back into society.

Wherever her society waits to be found, that is.

Once you reached deep space, though…Omega’s sound asleep in minutes, her half-empty cup hanging loosely in her right hand. This is, perhaps, a big convenience for you and Crosshair both, because you might not have to worry about her for a little while.

What you are able to do, at least for the duration of this trip, is start planning…and what Crosshair is able to help you come up with ends up exciting you and confounding you at almost the exact same time.

First comes that moon over Ryloth, as you originally agreed to in order to see Omega off. That’s certainly a given, considering you already agreed to his idea of separating himself from her so that any and all demanding guards that might come calling won’t be able to recapture them both.

After that, though—or so Crosshair does his best to explain—the two of you will, indeed, have to clear out not long afterward, with or without any harsh words from Hunter or Wrecker.

What harsh words, you signal to him, the both of you speaking with your hands so as not to wake Omega.

And why would they be mad at you?

I turned away, he signals back, and perhaps just a little too sharply judging by the pained look upon his face.

They had their ideas, I had mine, and now it’s too late for all of us.

I see…

An awkward silence passes between you both, and for a moment, you’re stuck wondering if you should ask any more questions, or else just be still until he starts up again. It’s suddenly very difficult for you to figure this out entirely on your own, as up until a certain point today, you thought you were going to spend another day by yourself.

Funny what difference a few hours can make.

Once you brace yourself to say something else, however, it’s here that he speaks first, signaling a bit slower for emphasis rather than controlled rage…or so you hope.

They clearly wanted to dig around the galaxy for scraps rather than ask for anything more secure.

Oh…? And is that where you were before you escaped? A ‘secure’ place?

Not exactly.

Another awkward silence. You’re both choosing your next words this time, a sure sign that you’re either learning how not to push the other into a fit of stress…or else falling apart long before you can ever try to get closer. You might not be so sure about what’s in Crosshair’s head right now, but you are sure of one thing.

You’re not ready to leave his side so quickly.

I thought playing by someone else’s rules would help keep me alive. Useful, even…but I obviously thought wrong.

Lucky for you, he’s talking again, though that left hand of his starts shaking a second time.

Not that it matters any longer. They already suggested that I’m too severe and unyielding to ever be around them, so it’s time I just let them all go.

What, do you—you think they’ll be happier if it’s just them and Omega?

They’ll certainly be safer, won’t they?

One more round of silence comes, only this time, you’re giving him all of one nod to signify your agreement with this plan. You might have gone out at least ten steps ahead of whatever guard or bounty hunter might become interested in your capture, but truly, that sense of a false peace could only last the three of you so long. Be it three days, three weeks, or even three months…all the necessary precautions would need to be made, for better or for worse.

In the meantime, though? Simple. You’re offering Crosshair both of your hands now, your palms up in a wordless invitation for him to either take hold of them, or else ignore them entirely. He certainly has room to do just about whatever he wants, considering he might not exactly be using weapons anytime soon.

“And…what about me? Should I also be dropped off?”

You remember to ask this in the lowest whisper possible, all the better to keep Omega from waking up or hearing any of your secrets.

“…You should not, Y/N.”

“Really? And why is that?”

You barely hold back a gasp as his hands meet yours, the unexpected joining of flesh and bone sending a surge of emotions through your body.

“Because—Because I think I like the thought of you tagging along a bit more.”

Your head is reeling at this point, so much so that it’s a curious miracle that you haven’t given yourself vertigo yet.

No matter how much you might have also tried to hold yourself back, your body suddenly feels light as a feather, so you’re quietly relieved when you manage to push one foot behind the leg of your seat to keep yourself from floating straight up to the ceiling. This stranger, this Trooper, has just consented to you remaining at his side with no sign of sarcasm or jokes at your expense…and, be it only until you find yourselves a new refuge or not, you’re certainly beginning to feel the same way.

The last few hours have, for better or for worse, had that effect upon you.

In fact, maybe...maybe this is just the beginning of something grand, some new adventure that you never dreamed of having before, but which clearly may have just found you at long last. Maybe you're on your way to someplace fresh and new, and with it, a chance to be something more than just some forgotten flight controller's child or some diner owner that nobody else really notices.

Maybe this is about to become your second act, and you need only step out onto the stage in order to claim your true place in the world.

And, once the two of you find a safe place to land together, whichever planet and community that place may be a part of…you can’t wait to find out if Crosshair might feel that same affect right beside you.

[duncans-idahoe]

Don't mind me just thinking about how in my Tech lives au, Phee's lover, now also Tech's, starts dressing him everyday because the poor man, while a genius, doesn't have a bit of fashion sense and absolutely no idea how to dress himself for island life. So she lovingly picks clothing she knows he'll be comfortable in while he fiddles with whatever project he's working on but also considers what colors and styles will make her beloved look the most handsome.

[enigmatist17]

I was tagged by @mcu-supersoldiers for one of the Last Line challenges :)

This is for the (sadly unfinished before the new season came out) Tech Lives AU I want to try and finish someday <:)

------

“If you ever make us think you’re dead ever again, I’ll kill you myself.” Echo can’t help but blink at Hunter’s response, looking offended for a hot second before Wrecker’s laugh cuts off whatever he had to say, Tech adjusting his glasses with an exasperated sigh.

“I assure you that it was not my intention…but very well.” Wrecker chuckled and carefully placed his hand on Tech’s back, just grinning as he took in his favorite people. “It is good to see you again.”

-------

Anyone feel free to respond :)

[therealtrashpanda]

Since I know you love writing and hearing crazy aus, here's one...

Bad Batch AU:

There are two brainwashed clone assassins gunning for the batch.

And it's the last people they'd ever want to go against..

Tech and Fives!

@clonewarssideblog-rb

Do you want me to write this? Because I will. The angst potential draws me in.

[stardusthuntress]

EnigmaTech - Ch. 3

My Tech Lives AU! (see prior chapters for summary)

Chapter 3 - Up and At 'Em!

Tech x female!reader (pronouns only! Though reader gets a callsign and a touch of background!) Does she catch his eye when they meet in this chapter? Is the inside of Tech's mind ever quiet enough for even him to figure it out? How does a nerd even catch another nerd's attention?

(Part 2) (Part 4)

Word count: ~5.3k 

Chapter Summary: time to break the "lost 3" out! This is supposed to be Tech's story after all!

TW: Some details of Tech's injury (nothing gruesome! Just mentions of bandages, potential concussions, some mods like Echo's, and migraine-like symptoms). Tech does struggle to stay conscious and focused, but mostly the former. FYI, I don’t know much about medical procedures. Medical actions taken herein could be the opposite of what you’re supposed to do and I wouldn’t know!

A/N: Once again, just needed to get this part out there into the world. I've rewritten it so many times! Action sequences are really hard! But I found a way to describe enough of it to make sense, but not all of it so I don't have to come up with a full exfiltration plot worthy of our favorite nerd and his sadistic archnemesis. Someone commented that this seemed like a way to infodump my film theories, and you is 100% correct. They did Tech dirty, and I needed to fix it. Hehehe! So let's fix it! Time to free the inventive genius, the raincloud of angst, and the sunshine child!

Tech dividers: @/djarrex

Translations: Haran = hell (mando'a)

His world was dark. It was strange. He couldn’t see or feel anything. But he knew a lot. And he had his familiar routines. He liked routines. They made him feel useful and gave his life structure. Just like the algorithms he wrote all day long, long scripts of instructions for computers to process and provide him with all the data he needed! 

But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Nevertheless, he must continue. That was his duty. That was what he was made to do. To keep going despite all odds, and to always find a way. That knowledge reassured him. As did his routines. His routines had become quite a lot like his favorite algorithms... Perhaps too much so... No, that couldn’t be. He was just paranoid because things were calm without the constant chaos of war. As long as his routines kept him and his brothers safe… brothers… his brothers! That was what was missing! No nagging reminders to “please stop fiddling and eat something and get some rest, you’ve backspaced frequently in the last half hour and it’s getting on Hunter’s nerves” from Echo. No roughhousing and horsing around from Wrecker. No dramatic sighs from Crosshair… 

Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. Somewhere in the distance, he was aware of Crosshair. And there was someone with him. Someone familiar. Small… and blonde… and… Tech knew those tears! But he couldn't place the rest of it. Knowing about them felt like a distant memory, but he knew it wasn’t. Those tears, Crosshair’s seething, quiet anger, those were happening in the present, not the past… but where? Where are they? And where was he? 

Somewhere amidst the confusion of his mind, he began to become aware of a warning klaxon alarm blaring far away. Something was happening. He could feel the adrenaline begin to surge. That meant something was coming and he had to get ready to protect those he cared about. Right now, that meant Crosshair and the little blonde one. 

Tech paused to take stock. He knew 3 things for certain, other than his name: 

1) Crosshair and a little blonde girl were nearby, and they were his family, 

2) something was happening, good or bad he didn’t know, but he did know that either way that meant, 

3) his family needed his protection, here and now… wherever here is… 

Slowly, more of his world began to percolate into the recesses of his mind, emerging from the darkness and beginning to take form around him. Though, they did not take physical form, he still could only see darkness, but he was starting to be able to hear and to feel things again. And smell. 

BO, this place smells like body odor. But somehow this smell of corn chippy socks and a desperate need to wash the carbon scoring and battle sweat off was very familiar to him. Like their barracks on Kamino… 

Wrecker! Wrecker was here! Wrecker would help Tech find his way back to his surroundings. That was something else he just innately knew. 

Tech added that to his list of certainties: 

Crosshair, Wrecker, and his sister were here, and they were his family. 

Something was happening, as evidenced by the alarm bells he was beginning to hear, which meant that, 

His family needed his protection, 

But first Tech needed Wrecker’s help to find his way back… 

But… back to what? Something was still missing. A lot was missing actually, but that would get overwhelming, so he focused on the last item on the list, hoping the rest would fall into place after he figured out where he was and what was happening. Which he needed Wrecker’s help for. So he focused on Wrecker. 

Sure enough, his brother’s booming voice reached Tech’s ears. Tech concentrated on it, trying to make out what Wrecker was saying. But things were happening too fast. And the voices blurred together. He was still certain Wrecker’s voice was among the noise, as was a building alarm going off, but there was something else too. Something in addition to Wrecker’s voice, and it had the patterns of language - a voice! He was pretty sure that’s what it was. They seemed to be helping Wrecker with something, giving instructions and Wrecker was following them. As they continued on, Tech could feel himself beginning to become conscious of his surroundings again, but he also felt his emotions spiking, and didn’t dare open his eyes yet. First he needed to use that same old trick he’d taught to Crosshair when he had a panic attack, to ground himself now and regain control of his emotions: the 5-4-3-2-1 method. Tech didn’t want to open his eyes yet. That had a tendency to trigger migraines. And there were so many things in his surroundings he couldn’t place yet. So instead he just focused on just putting names and senses to 5 things. 

Wrecker was here - Tech could smell him and hear him. 

An ally was here - Tech could hear their voice, and they were working with Wrecker, who clearly trusted them! 

Hmm, what else… 

The alarm had stopped! At least in this room it had been silenced. Must not have been long ago either, Wrecker was commenting on being able to hear his own thoughts again! Which meant that: 

Tech’s senses were catching up with the world, he was beginning to be able to hear the things Wrecker was saying! 

Tech sighed in relief, the world was coming back to him. In fact, the world seemed to be approaching rapidly. He could hear footsteps around him now. Heavy footfalls desperately trying to be careful as they treaded nervously across the room. Wrecker again! 

Wrecker’s footsteps approached. 

The voice that was not Wrecker’s spoke again. They seemed excited! Something about someone moving and reacting to his surroundings. Tech realized they must have been talking about himself! 

Tech tried to focus on his surroundings, but it was harder than he expected. 

The sound of finger’s snapping near the side of his face made him flinch. It was loud that close to his ears. 

“Oh good! I thought he passed out again!” Wrecker boomed nervously. 

“Give him time, Big Guy, he’s been through a lot,” answered the other voice. “He doesn’t seem to like loud right now.” 

Wrecker tried to make himself smaller, “Sorry, Tech!” He half whispered and half shouted. 

Tech still didn’t want to open his eyes. Between the loud noises - this must be what Hunter felt like when they were all being loud, he realized - and the fact that Wrecker was probably worried, he couldn’t face that just yet… Pun intended. 

Oh good! So his own special form of humor was still intact! Tech took a deep breath and rolled his head to the side, towards the voices that were now whispering. 

Ow. The movement made his head throb. Specifically the back of his head, which had been resting against what now felt like a very hard surface. Cool to the touch. Probably metal of some kind. Though there was a little fragment of cushioning, beyond that of just his own hair. Probably a makeshift medbay. 

One more deep breath and Tech was ready to have a look around. He opened his eyes… hmm, strange, that didn’t seem to work. He tried again, hand automatically reaching for his face as he did so. But someone caught his hand. 

“No, don’t touch the bandages,” Wrecker whispered. 

“It’s okay Wreck. Tech, we don’t have your goggles,” the unfamiliar voice approached, “so you won’t be able to see your surroundings much. And… lemme have his hand Wrecker… you will only be able to see a little out of one eye. I’m going to put your hand on the edge that’s near your nose, okay?” Tech became aware of small, clammy fingers wrapping gently around his own, as the voice continued.“Be gentle and go slow. You’ve been out for at least a few days by the looks of things and you’ve got some pretty extensive mods now, though a new eye was apparently not among them. Just the necessities to keep you functioning as a computer for Hemlock. There’s a probably a lot to unpack in those details. Let’s get back to that in a minute. Just focus on feeling yourself and your surroundings right now.” And with that the voice placed Tech’s hand on the wrappings around his head. 

He traced them over one eye, and around his head. Then he tried to turn his head again. Once again it sent his mind reeling. Tech swallowed hard, trying to keep his stomach from disobeying him. 

“Wreck, put your hand under his head. The fact that they didn’t bother to give him a pillow doesn’t seem to be helping him much.” 

So his discomfort must be visible. Tech wondered if he “looked green” as Crosshair had once described him when he had nearly lost his lunch after a particularly bad day of training. 

Wrecker gently lifted Tech’s head a fraction and slipped his much softer hand beneath it. “Better?” 

“Thank you,” Tech mumbled. His voice felt horse. It must have been a while since he’d used it. This seemed to agree with the stranger’s sentiment, indicating that he had indeed been unconscious for several days, minimum. 

Slowly, the colors of the room slowed down and stopped swimming around his head. He recognized Wrecker’s large shapes of dark armor, and could see the unfamiliar shapes of the stranger’s armor next to him. Though all he could see was the person’s rough size, no details. 

“Sit up… please,” it took less effort to talk this time around. Progress! Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. 

“You got it!” Wrecker whisper-shouted, helping Tech prop himself up. “Is he okay? Why is it taking so long to get him up?” Wrecker had never been good at being discreet and quiet when it came to worrying over his brothers. 

By the looks of things, the dark blobs that he knew to be Wrecker and co. shifted to exchange glances, but said nothing. 

“I’m going to touch your face a little, Tech. You’re a little pink and I need to make sure you’re stable. Okay?” 

“Wait,” Tech needed more information first, this person was still a stranger. Tech knew he needed to trust his medic, but without the ability to see what his medic was doing that was a lot harder to do, “Who are you?”

“My apologies! Call me Spitfire! Pilot and strategist.” The voice answered. 

“She’s Mandalorian!” Wrecker added. Tech zeroed in on the use of identifying pronouns. 

She laughed. “Yes, and I’ll gladly tell you more after we get you out of here—” Tech’s grip on the world around him began to slip again as his head throbbed. 

Spitfire’s voice close to his ear, but gentle and quiet, dragged him back to the real world again. “I need to make sure you’re stable, I’m going to touch you okay?” 

“Kay,” Tech spoke through gritted teeth. He inhaled quickly as her fingers found his temple. Cold. Her fingers were still cold. Then he found himself automatically relaxing into her gentle touch. The cold felt good, and made the pain of the headache a little more bearable. She chuckled, likely reacting to the way he leaned into her cold fingers. And he felt her fingers run through a semi-familiar check up checklist as they danced across his skin: forehead for a fever test, side of his neck to check for an irregular pulse, tilting his chin up and bringing out a flashlight. She moved quickly but thoroughly, though her checklist was slightly different than the algorithm he’d developed. 

He could feel Wrecker tensing next to him. Wrecker never did like medical exams, though he also had a tendency to use himself as a sentient shield. Apparently Spitfire had noticed Wrecker’s disposition too. 

“He’s okay, Big Guy. Seems like it’s mostly just a nasty headache,” she began addressing Tech more directly, explaining the results of her medical checks. “Your eyes react like normal, and your words aren’t slurred, so no lasting effects of a concussion. Though without your glasses and with the wraps partially over one ear, things might be a little disorienting, and you may still have had a concussion, though you’re okay for now. You’re a little warm, but not warm enough to indicate a fever, so it will likely go away quickly and is probably the result of finally being upright and conscious with adrenaline pumping for the first time in a while. You should also know they seem to have embedded some circuitry in you. You were wired into the central computer. Though Hemlock seems to have learned more than I’d like from Echo’s breakout. Looked like you could only access limited information but no building codes nor structural plans or anything like that?” 

“Affirmative. Perhaps even more restricted than that. I was only vaguely aware of Crosshair and Omega’s existence, but could barely access any of my own memories, beyond the things I instinctively knew. I’d surmise… mmmm… mmmmaybe not… headache…” Tech gingerly massaged the pressure points along his temples, careful around the bandages. 

“Without knowing more about what specifically was altered, and what they used to keep you unconscious, I am hesitant to give you any medication. We don’t know what effect it will have when it mixes with whatever else is in your system right now. You also need time for your vitals to exist at this new stable conscious state for a little while before we introduce anything new. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep your brothers safe. Okay?” 

Tech nodded a tiny bit. “The others? Where?” 

Wrecker gave her a look. Clearly, speaking in partial phrases was not normal for Tech. The pain must have been getting to him. 

“I think you know the answer to that,” her voice was quiet and quizzical. This was clearly another test - a concussion test to see what he remembered. Tech tried to look up at the dark shape he knew was this Spitfire person. 

“Crosshair, Omega?” He tries. 

“That’s right,” she reassures. “We’ll meet up with them on the way out.” 

Tech’s world starts to swim. 

“It’s okay Genius, Wrecker’s got you. Take it easy.I’ll keep you and your family safe.” 

Tech could feel Wrecker’s arm slip around his shoulders, and lift him off the cold table and onto his own two feet. He managed to stay on his feet, though without Wrecker’s support that would have been a lot more difficult. 

Once again, Tech’s world shrank to the size of his own mind as he tried to find ways to combat the pain and stay conscious. There were moments when he was aware of his surroundings, and moments where he was only subconsciously aware, but through it all he managed to make his feet automatically shuffle forward with Wrecker. 

Here and there, scenes formed themselves around the brothers. 

Ping! Mandalorian was right! Tech would know the sound of blaster bolts bouncing off beskar anywhere. Based on the proximity of the sound, she was using her own beskar-clad body to shield both Tech and Wrecker. Tech could see flashes and fresh smudges of carbon scoring on the walls they passed and wondered how many of them had bounced off of her beskar first. 

Wrecker made a comment about wanting beskar of his own. Something about his shoulder aching just watching the blast bounce off of her. Tech silently agreed with him. That sounded like a smart idea. If only it was easier to come by. He’d have insisted his brothers all acquire it ages ago. Especially since even when working for the Republic, they seemed to be the ones to get all the reckless jobs. 

Then Spitfire is in front of them, popping open a panel in the extensive, white wall beside them. Sparks fly and wires now dangle from the opening in the wall. A door Tech had not been aware of before, slid open. On the other side were familiar voices and shapes. The rest of his brothers, and a small blonde blur that darted for his waist. Omega. 

He could feel her shaking, and was vaguely aware that his hip was being used as a tissue for those all too familiar tears. He reached down with his free hand and patted the blonde locks. Her arms relaxed a little, but remained wrapped tightly around his waist. 

Crosshair approached, and knelt by Omega, calming her further. Tech didn’t need to be able to see much to know Hunter was puffing out his chest with pride for their brother. Speaking of, Hunter was in front of Tech now. He seemed to be fussing over something, probably the way Tech seemed only partially conscious. Tech tried to pull himself together to answer, but was vaguely aware of only being able to groan and mumble a little. Spitfire gave what was apparently enough of an answer that Hunter backed off a bit, though by the way he continued to hover nearby, Tech could tell he was still worried. Tech did his best to focus on his surroundings and bring himself back to the present moment, for the sake of Hunter’s nerves. 

The slightly smaller armoured shape that he knew to be Spitfire was back in Tech’s line of sight. She seemed to be fiddling with a long, thin item in her hands, which she then held out towards Crosshair. Tech concluded she must have been modifying one of her own blasters into sniper configuration for his brother. 

Crosshair seemed to finally acknowledge the woman. 

“Who are you?” He snarls at her, but accepts the proffered weapon. 

Echo appears at Tech’s side, “She’s basically just like him,” Echo pats Tech's shoulder, careful to be gentle, “except female… and cute.” The Domino Twin in Echo breaking the tension in the room before he continues on, “you sure you’re okay, Crosshair?” 

Crosshair grumbles and glares, but says no audible words. 

“He’s grumpy. He’s fine.” Hunter’s voice! His vocal patterns indicated he was somewhere between annoyed and bemused. “You okay, Tech?” Clearly he was aware that Tech was once again in tune with his surroundings. 

“I have had a constant headache since regaining consciousness, but I am otherwise in a suitable state to continue, so long as I retain vertical support during our exfiltration.” 

“What do ya know, long-winded, highly-detailed, but complete sentences. He’ll be okay too,” Echo muses. 

Someone pats Tech’s shoulder rather roughly this time, and his head pulses again. Tech closes his eyes, he wants to hold his breath at the sudden pain, but knows that won’t help, so instead he focuses on square breathing. To be honest, it is mostly just an attempt to distract himself from the pain and the chaos with a familiar pattern than anything else. While letting Wrecker guide his feet. 

Breathe in to the slow count of 4…

hold to the same slow count of 4…

whole breath out in the count of 4… 

hold to the count of 4, repeat…

After a few iterations, Tech switches back to normal breathing patterns, and then gets jarred back to reality when it suddenly gets loud and he can feel them getting bumped around. Tech opens his eyes again and is struck by the amount of clone voices and the fact that these clones are not fighting against Clone Force 99. Tech looks to Wrecker, confused. 

“We let ‘em all out!” Wrecker booms. “Good ‘ol Cap said he couldn’t leave a job like this half done! They are brothers too, after all.” 

Tech nods, and returns to trying to fend off the headache that is threatening to become a migraine if he’s not careful. Especially with all this new chaos alongside them. 

As they press on, Tech becomes aware of a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. In an attempt to distract himself from the pain in his head, he tries his best to untangle it via the limited data available to him right now. If only he could see! There were always so many clues in places like this, if only he could observe them! 

Suddenly, the start of an answer begins to emerge, and he surfaces from the recesses of his own mind. They’ve been standing still for too long, likely at a control console. Tech has a strange feeling of deja vu, though he’s not entirely sure why, but it definitely has something to do with Crosshair. Without warning the answer dawns on him, as images of Crosshair, alone, collapsing near a control console very much like this one makes it way to the forefront of his mind: they are walking into a trap! 

“This is undoubtedly a trap!” Tech exclaims, finger raised to emphasize his point. 

“We know,” Hunter speaks loud enough the group can hear him, but soft enough any surveillance equipment would struggle. “We sprung it intentionally, it was the only way to get you 3 out.” 

“Yes!” Spitfire seems happy about that, and Tech is grateful when she launches into an explanation of why. “Hemlock made sure that springing it was inevitable. Which meant the part of the plan that really mattered was the part that came after. However, there is no way he could have predicted a Mandalorian on the extraction team, nor my specific skillset, even if he did entertain the idea of you lot teaming up with a Mandalorian. Therefore, my skills represented a wildcard that we could not reveal to him until after we had sprung the trap!” She takes a breath, ready to continue on, but Crosshair gets there first. 

Acknowledging Echo’s earlier comment by looking directly at him, Crosshair addresses the group. “This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them!” 

“You got that right!” Wrecker laughs. 

Crosshair sighs. “So how do you usually get out of the big messes you make now?” exasperation and a longing to have been with them dripping from every word. 

“We don’t,” to everyone’s surprise, it’s Omega’s voice that answers, “we make a bigger mess that cancels out the first one!” 

Tech can tell Hunter’s helmet is turning slowly towards Omega, Hunter’s hands making a ‘hey!’ gesture. This must be the expression Omega had once described to Tech as a “sarcastically offended Dad face”, based on her laughter. It was good to hear such a happy sound again. 

Tech wonders how long it has been since she had laughed like that. Which, in turn, prompts another question: just how long the 3 of them have been stuck here? Tech turns his mind inwards for a moment. He knows Omega arrived not long after he did. He saw her arrive at Crosshair’s cell via security camera feed. He remembered Hemlock’s voice telling him his effort to protect his family was in vain, that she was all that was left, but he was glad he had not believed Hemlock. His family was clearly alive now. But no matter how hard he tries, there’s no sense of time attached to all the memories after the fall… Spitfire was right. Hemlock had learned a lot from Echo’s escape, and had made sure to keep Tech disconnected and in the dark. It felt like everything the sadistic ‘doctor’ had done was as poisonous as his name implied. Tech wondered if the name ‘Hemlock’ was even the man’s given name. It fit him far too well to be a coincidence. 

Once again loud noises draw Tech from his revelations. 

“Oh look!” Echo’s voice is the first thing Tech hear’s clearly. Echo is clearly amused, “they’re lining up for us!” 

“They’re excited,” Wrecker returns the jest. 

“On my belt.” Hunter’s hip shifts towards Crosshair as they stand in front of Wreck and Tech. Crosshair pulls something from Hunter’s utility belt, and Tech notices it glints in the light. Crosshair’s reflector pucks! Crosshair holds the puck in front of Tech’s nose, but does not address him. 

“Throw it to the end of the corridor,” he instructs, never taking his eyes off the targets. Something about the way he’d deliberately brandished it in front of Tech’s face indicated that this was Crosshair's attempt to keep Tech in the loop despite his lack of certain faculties at the moment. 

“You got it!” Wrecker reaches for the puck. 

Tech feels Echo’s arm shifting Tech’s weight off of Wrecker. He complies with the shift, wishing he could do more than just follow lamely like a lost massiff puppy. Though it was comforting to hear his brother’s banter pick up like nothing had changed, and he was grateful for Crosshair’s silent efforts to keep him in the loop. 

With a single shot from Crosshair, the corridor falls eerily quiet. Crosshair turns to Hunter, Tech can only guess that he’s likely raising his eyebrows to ask when that “bigger mess” is coming into play. 

There’s a hissing sound, and the hallway begins to fill with something foggy from the grates in the ceiling. 

Crosshair points up. “That’s a trap. Hemlock is immune.” 

Hunter tosses something to Crosshair and Spitfire from his pack, and then extracts 1 more, turning to Omega. 

Spitfire approaches Tech with the item, “respiratory mask!” She explains, placing it over his nose and mouth. “They took your helmet, but we’ll build you a new one,” these words are only loud enough that Tech can hear them. And they make a small smile cross his lips for a moment, between the surges of pain in his head. 

Tech zones out again, mind jumping between thoughts with little to no consistency. It seems likely that he is also still a little loopy from whatever they used to keep him unconscious and compliant, but his brothers and Spitfire have everything covered for the time being. He can let his mind explore the various scenarios as long as he stays conscious during the exfiltration. 

It’s likely that the resurgence of the headaches is related to the toxin pouring from the ceiling. 

Hmm, more evidence that Hemlock is a chosen name and not a given one. Next time he won’t take such a clearly carefully selected name for granted. It’s almost like Hemlock wanted people to know what he was good at. 

If Tech had his gear he’d take notes. His gear. Tech wondered what Hemlock had done with his helmet… and his datapad… and his helmet… how much had the people here learned about him and his brothers, or had Tech’s own safety measures prevented them from learning anything? 

Had any of the data the Empire had retrieved from Tech’s own work gotten back to his brothers? Is that how they were able to find them? Endless questions… always endless questions… Tech made a mental note to ask Echo about it all later. Hunter too, but Echo was better at included the details Tech wanted in the first go around. 

A raucous but familiar giggle over the intercom breaks through the haze of the hallway that mirrored the haze in Tech’s mind. 

“Your turn 99’s! Ready or not, here I come!” 

Normally, a sentiment like that would have put Tech on high alert, but the voice that said it was one Tech knew he could trust with the lives of his brothers. Captain Gregor! Which meant that Captain Rex was also likely nearby, probably orchestrating the brothers that once clamored through the hallways with them. It was instances like this that showed how much Rex cared, determined to protect all their brothers. That was what assured Tech that Rex was a leader worthy of his title. 

Tech isn’t sure how much time passes, just that he is vaguely proud of Omega for something that seems to help neutralize the toxin descending from the ceiling and accumulating as a foggy drift at their feet. Tech watches it swirl as they start to move again. 

After a few moments as foggy as the clouds drifting around their ankles, Tech is aware that he was witnessed an explosion and is not standing anymore. That jolts him back to his senses. But what he finds is not what he expects to find. 

Echo and Wrecker seem to be sitting Tech on a soft bench. The calming of the chaos around them would suggest they are now safely out of Hemlock’s facility and onboard a ship of some kind. Tech puts a hand on the bench he sits on and feels around. A medbay bench. Probably a smart idea. Tech doubted he was “ship-shaped” anymore as Hunter had once described it. 

That new voice is again near Tech, but he knows his brothers are still nearby too. The voice says something about “might sting” and “hang in there”, and Tech feels a sharp pain in his neck. Tech flinches, sitting up straighter, and feels his senses once again tune into the world around him. This time with less effort on his part. 

“All aboard?” Gregor's voice rings out from the cockpit. Hunter’s still-blurry shape disappears in the direction of Gregor's voice. 

Tech even notices when the ship jumps to hyperspace! 

“Is that better?” Spitfire asks, turning back to him, one hand still on his cheek, but not so cold this time around. 

“Significantly,” Tech answers, the pain subsiding rapidly, “I take it you were able to successfully determine whether my modifications could handle standard migraine medication and administer it?” 

She laughs, “Yes, and it seems to have worked wonders. We were all worried about you there. You started to fade again after that last booby trap. How are you feeling now?” 

“I believe we made the jump to hyperspace a moment ago?” He asks. 

“Yes we did!” Spitfire answers. 

Wrecker cheers behind her. 

“Is there any chance you have been able to fabricate another pair of my goggles? I would like to see my environment.” 

“I’m afraid not. I’m glad you seem to remember you had your spare pair on you, though. But we’ve been a little more focused on finding you than making new lenses. Though, we have the frames, and I was able to locate your notes on your prescription on your datapad, so I’m sure we will be able to pull something together. For now, let’s get everyone patched up. We’re on our way to a secret medical facility, courtesy of the Alderaanean senators, but if we can give everyone a once over before we get there it will save time in the long run, and we will know for certain who needs first priority.” 

Behind her, raised voices begin to echo in the small cabin, naturally summoning Echo to calm them. 

“Crosshair! Hunter! Enough! Yes, we sold the 733. Yes, we are sorry. No, we didn’t have a choice. You know damn well Hunter wouldn’t have sold it without good reason, none of us would have. Haran [hell], he even sold me as a droid. Calm down. We’re all here. That’s what matters.” 

“Good to know being brothers matters so much to you,” Crosshair spits out, reluctant to give up his grudge. 

“I wasn’t gonna–” Hunger starts, continuing the argument in true brotherly fashion. 

“ENOUGH!” Echo interrupts, “Again, we have the whole squad back now. Can we just focus on that? I’m getting a headache just listening to you two.” 

“Family,” Omega’s voice is smaller than usual, but she still pipes up. 

“What?” Hunter asks. 

“Family. Echo said squad,” she turns to him, “but you meant family.” 

Echo smiles and kneels in front of her, “You’re right kid. I did mean family.” And he scoops her into a big hug. 

Tech releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His family is safe now. At least that checklist that had started amidst the darkness was now complete. He had found his way out of the darkness. He had his family back. And he and his family were all safe. He could relax and focus on other things now.

(Part 4)

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

[synthsays]

Monster Falls girlies how we feeling about this one.

Happy Fiddleford Friday Y'all

(Bonus art under cut)

And one for the fiddauthor peeps

[lornaka]

He's a Disney prince ♕

[letshareapapou]

For the colour palette, this one with Tech? Your art is gorgeous btw, I always get excited when you upload! 💚

Thank you I appreciate it!! 🩷💚💜🩵

More of my Tech lives au, with Tech and his Pabu pets

the colors were so fun

[vimse]

I remembered that I told myself I’d draw Tech wearing a fanny pack, so here is Tech with a fanny pack.

[squad-724]

WATCH OUT! SPOILERS FOR „Project Failsafe” by @clownery-and-fuckery

Tech CT-9907 gets a new hairstyle to match Opee

[thecoffeelorian]

Minesweeper

Minesweeper (Crosshair x Reader)

Premise: The saga continues. In other words, you and Crosshair are about to cut and run after dropping off Omega...but then, unforeseen events threaten to derail everything.

Word Count: 1,846

Masterlist: The Surprise Guest Series

Story Notes: Sooo...it's like this. I absolutely hated the first draft of this chapter, and the second, and the third...and to be honest, I was very close to scrapping the whole project, because it sucked. However. Just when I was about to give up, I was reminded that Commander Mayday didn't receive a proper funeral, and then that led to the idea that his body conveniently disappeared so that the Batch didn't have to think of one, which then led to a similar thought about Tech's body and how HE didn't receive a proper funeral...which led to a long list of unfinished business I'd gathered over the years that TBB aired, as well as the lingering thought in the back of my mind that, just like in The Clone Wars, there was some kind of unreliable narrator in charge of everything. Kind of like how the anti-dragon Maesters of Oldtown were in charge of writing Fire and Blood...but that House of the Dragon just might be telling the true story of the "Dance of the Dragons". So, in a nutshell, I'm back. Back to tell a more complex tale if I can, back to give more honor to the Clone Troopers if I'm able, and back to remove the bad bait-and-switch tactics that have been kinda prevalent throughout every new season of episodes. I only have one thing to ask of everyone else who's still reading, commenting, and reblogging: Buckle up!

Special Notes: As always, kudos to @stars-n-spice for my oh-so-lovely Crosshair header, and thank you! Oh, and one more thing--Happy Sniper Saturday!!

No Pressure Tags:

@techhasmjolnir @ms-grassi @donntmindmejustwandering @skellymom @youreababboon

@libraryfordyslexics @melymigo @otomefan @salirvine @aqua248

@cyare-of-the-501st @cobalt-candy @housepartyfortwo @rogue616 @theosb0rnway

@herculesjrockefeller @leos-multifandom-corner @baddest-batchers @crosshair-lover @groguandthebadbatch

@gigachadcowboy @ash04w3 @thatacefr @evabellasworld @momojedi

@marvelsgoddessofmischief @badbatchlover @mysticalgalaxysalad and anybody else on the lookout for more Crosshair x Reader stories.

Some time later, when your shuttle has safely touched down upon solid ground and the thrill of adventure has somewhat faded...you find yourself staring a bit too long into Crosshair’s golden-brown eyes, a cold sweat developing on the back of your neck.

It’s time.

Time to start putting all of your droids in a row, perhaps, though not without praying for a miracle or two.

In other words...you’ve made it. You’re now waiting at the exact place where you’ve agreed to send Omega over, a more than fair arrangement considering her bond with Hunter and Wrecker is a lot stronger than any attachment she might have with either of you. In fact, if this was the average Republic court case and you were supposed to negotiate a custody arrangement for her, naturally, the Troopers with the longest childcare record would probably take precedence above all others.

That does not, however, make it any easier to carry out the second part of your plan.

“Wait till I tell everyone who I found!”

Not when Omega herself is awake again and behaving as though you won’t be rejected by everyone else, never mind flat out shunned for breaking whatever rules had gotten Crosshair in trouble in the first place.

No, instead, she talks and acts like whatever drove him away from the fold simply didn’t happen, a curious habit that you’re not yet sure of whether or not you’d be wise to copy.

“Once we get to Pabu, I can introduce you to all the others, too! Lyana and her dad, Phee Genoa, the two ladies who live down the street—oh, but to Hunter first!”

Hunter first, huh...? Easier said than done, kiddo.

Not only do you have no clue whatsoever on how to respond to this idea, but you’re also unsure as to whether or not you should care about what this one might think of you. To begin with, you’ve heard precious little about him, so it’s hard to figure out if he’ll agree to shake your hand or spit in your face.

Second, as you were, after all, the one who joined up with the one person he couldn’t stand...perhaps he may end up doing just that out of spite.

Or so your wandering thoughts suggest to you.

As to whether or not he’ll give you a shipload of grief for daring to talk to his kid without him knowing about it first...well, that remains to be seen. All you can really do is open the back hatch with a short pull of the lever; wait for the door to fully lower itself; and then step out of the way.

Less than a minute later, Omega’s just about launched herself down the small staircase and out onto the open plain, a loud chuckle rumbling from the safety of the other ship. “Now THERE’S a sight!”

You both are sure to stay out of their field of vision as Omega finds the first of the two, a somewhat loud Trooper who Crosshair names in a whisper as Wrecker. From what you can see right around the door, he might also have a touch of gigantism, if only because he seems to almost take up the whole entrance of his own ship the moment he steps outside.

That, unfortunately, turns out to be the easy part...because once Omega’s reunion with Hunter takes place, you’re both pressing yourselves against the wall for Force knows whatever reason. Maybe he’s afraid to face the music, or maybe you’re terrified of backlash. Maybe you’re just turning your eyes away from everything happening outside, because in that way, you won’t get any second thoughts about going back into the ether.

Or maybe, as long as you stay hidden, it’ll be easier for them to forget all about you.

Regardless of your reasons, though, this is supposed to be her big return home and nobody else’s...so, naturally, you’re not going to be the type of idiot that stands around and ruins the party. Not when you could instead pull the lever to get that hatch door moving, and so move on to getting the engines roaring to life. Not when you could grant Omega her happy ending, at the expense of anything that could have led to your own.

Only...you can’t.

The lever’s suddenly locked itself on the open position, and with it, there’s no pushing it back up again to get it closed.

“Kriff it!”

“What?”

“The stupid door won’t shut!”

You’re using all of your strength to get it to move, yet how Crosshair’s quick to observe, it doesn’t budge so much as an inch.

“Hm...”

Neither will it do anything for his sake, apparently, because he pushes until he almost goes purple from the effort of it...and the door remains exactly as it was before.

“Let me guess,” he mutters with some annoyance, just barely catching his own breath in time.

“You forgot to oil this thing before we left.”

“Well excuse ME, but we were all in a hurry.”

“Oh, of course.”

“What, like you weren’t scrambling to leave, too?”

The two of you glance as one unit toward the open door, a part of your inner thoughts wondering just what might happen if you decided to be the first to step outside. Would you end up using your blaster before anyone else, or would they instead be the first to use theirs upon you? Do you even have the right to force such a confrontation, or would it be somehow better to wait in silence, hoping they lose interest?

“Well...now what do we do?”

Then again...just how safe are you going to be anyplace else, especially with a broken ship? As if to answer your question, there's just silence coming from the outside. No more sound or movement to speak of now, a somewhat unnerving sign that everyone is waiting for you and Crosshair to show up on the gangplank, if not also make your way to the solid ground beneath. Thanks to the great seizing up of the ship hatch, your planned escape would be nothing less than a death wish at this point, as the natural vacuum this would create would suck the both of you out into the open air within minutes, followed by a long drop and a sudden stop.

In other words, there’s nowhere else for you to go but out.

“Guess we’re just gonna have to rough it.”

“Are you sure...?”

“Well, we’re not getting off the ground anymore, are we?”

You accept this idea in silence, the growing lurch within your stomach the only physical reaction you’re willing to admit to yourself. Crosshair’s not exactly the picture of happiness either, as he still has no idea whether or not he’s about to step into an emotional minefield, and if so...just which one of you is about to become the minesweeper.

Nevertheless, as soon as he’s lifting his left hand to reach for yours, the trembling somewhat worse this time than it was when you reached hyperspace...you’re not afraid to accept it with both hands, as you’re already more than sure that you’re about to do this together.

Anything to keep either one of you from cracking under all the stress.

“I’ve got you, Cross. Let’s go.”

This is how you come to descend the steps as one, his injured hand safe and warm inside your own as you go to meet your combined fate. Your steps remain quiet and unassuming, the one-two one-two march the only rhythm you’re willing to demonstrate for something so tense...and then you both look up from the ground toward the faces that await.

For the first few seconds, you make a quiet note to thank Omega later, even if it’s only for the look of hope and support she gives you.

Then you turn your focus to the other two, and it’s here that all promise of a joyful reconciliation dies.

“So this is what the Empire offers in return for complicity.”

The hateful look in Hunter’s eyes makes this all too clear to you in a matter of seconds.

“Free barracks bunnies.”

In its place, there’s a small ache in the pit of your stomach as he shoots daggers in your direction, disapproval and rage just about leaking out of his every pore right before he turns his back upon you. So this is what it’s going to be, then...total condemnation, full stop, and right before you can even introduce yourself.

Lucky me.

“Good thing—escaped—wouldn’t want—these people.”

Your feeling of unease doubles as his words become half cut off, no doubt because he’s both turned away from you and lowering his voice on purpose. The fact of there being thirty feet of distance between your side and his figures into this as well, since there’s little chance of anybody’s words carrying over to you now.

And yet...it’s certainly not an obstacle to seeing exactly what the one called Wrecker thinks of you, for even at this distance, he copies Hunter’s rage to a tee.

Double the luck, then.

“Anyway—say we leave—home—Mantell Mix?”

This can either end in a parting of ways to opposite ends of the galaxy or a knock-down-drag-out fight at this point...and right now, you’re not so sure about the parting idea.

In fact, as crazy as it sounds within your thoughts, you’re almost stuck waiting to see who decides to take the first swing.

“No.”

Then again, once Omega starts walking away from Hunter and back in your direction...that idea of fighting it out also lessens just a little. Funny what a few minutes of conversation can do.

“They didn’t do anything to me, okay? Crosshair helped me steal a ship, and Y/N flew us out on another—”

“—And now they’re nothing but mindless fascists, so—”

“—So I think we can all go back together to the island now—”

“—No, we’re going back to Pabu. They can go ahead and lie in the beds they made.”

It’s just a little unnerving to watch, of course. These two now seem to be in direct conflict where they might have once been working together, so naturally, you won’t even consider fanning the flames. This is why you’re careful not to speak up or interrupt.

“Oh, really? And what about Y/N? Aren’t they also hiding from—”

“I don’t care. It’s not a good idea for you to be out in the open like this...all right?”

He makes a slow movement to nudge her in the direction of their own back hatch, clearly wanting to get all three of his remaining people back on board so that he could put this planet, never mind you and Crosshair, a long distance behind him. Maybe he might have a valid reason or two to do just that, because Crosshair isn’t exactly trying to meet his eyes, either.

“Wrong.”

Then again, it looks like Omega isn’t going to take any of this lying down...because the next thing all of you know, she’s pulling away to stand a lot closer to you. “We escaped Tantiss together, we left the planet together...and I’m not going back to Pabu without them.”

[paperback-rascal]

What if Crosshair has aversion to raw seafood (especially fish) after being stranded on Kamino for 32 rotations? Let's face it - raw fish were most likely his main source of sustenance after rations run out (if he even had any).

There will be most likely a journey ahead of him, as people of Pabu seem to be predominantly fisherfolks. He could have a hard time going to the lower levels of Pabu or at least avoiding going out at certain times of the day when fishermen unload their catch.

Also as calming as fishing together might seem to Wrecker, first few times were extremely taxing for the sniper.

---

See more of my fix-it posts here -> [LINK] <-

My fanart masterlist -> [LINK] <-

===

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

[enigmatist17]

Beginning Spark

Oh how I wish I could actually title something :')

Clone OC mentioned can be found here :)

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

“Keep moving.” The order is tinged with hatred, and it’s so tiring.

“I am moving di’kut .” The mando’a is lost on the non-clone guards, and after a moment there’s a cry of pain when a blaster connects to the back of someone’s head. 

“She’s going in the first cell we see.” 

“Works for me. Now get moving, or I’ll let him hit you again.”

Omega looked up with a glare, but keeps her sarcastic comments as she follows the lead guard. The cell that’s closest to the elevator has its shielding deactivated, and Omega grunts as she’s thrown into it.

“Next time, keep your mouth shut, or Nala Se might deal with a prisoner with broken legs.” The second guard taunted as Omega collected herself and got up onto her feet, the red shield slicing between the two groups before the guards meandered away.

“Are you okay kid?” Omega doesn’t respond until she’s sure the two guards are fully out of earshot, and rubs the back of her neck with a wince.

“I’ll be alright, I’m just glad they’re so easily annoyed.” The younger clone made her way away from the front of the cell, not afraid of the darkness this time as she’s drawn into a gentle hug.

“You did so well.” Fives gently runs a hand through her hair, and for a moment the two just embrace before the younger pulls back. Fives looks just as she remembered, but is clamping her hands over her mouth when she looks up at his eyes.

They’re powered on with a dull blue light, and looking right at her as Fives smiles.

“How long will you be here?” Fives motions for Omega to sit on his bunk, pointing at two nodules at the top of the entrance to his cell while making a zipping motion across his lips. She hadn’t noticed them the first time, and can see one appears to be powered up while the other was off-line.

“I don’t know.” Omega sighed a bit loudly, playing up the guise of being badgered and exhausted. “Is it okay if I try to rest?”

“Of course not.” Fives moved to join her on the cot, and after one last scan of the hallway that is empty, Omega takes one of his hands and begins tapping on it.

Crosshair is going to signal

While her execution of the clones’ secret language is clumsy, the ARC trooper is more than pleased by her progress.

I can be ready when you are

It takes Omega a moment to translate, and she nods with a slight frown.

Three days. Hemlock is leaving for something, that will be our chance

Good girl

For a moment they sit together in the darkness, and eventually Omega leans against him.

“I’m scared Fives…what if we don’t make it?” She’s hardly whispering, and Fives slips an arm around her shoulders while leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“I’m scared too kih’vod. ” She looks up in slight surprise, and Fives meets her gaze with a soft smile. “It’s okay to feel that way, and you’re going to be doing the hardest part of this, but I know you can do it.”

“I still don’t understand how you can just trust me.” Omega’s whisper is nearly lost in the distant buzz of the ray shield, but Fives catches it.

“You’re one of us, and like I said, we’ll do everything for our own.” Fives gives her a gentle squeeze, and the two sit in silence. “Soon…”

“Soon.” 

—-----------

“You know, never realized how boring a port could be.” 

There’s a sigh, masked by a ship taking off nearby.

“Come ooooon kid, talkin’ to me isn’t going to distract your eyes eh?”

Well, he’s not wrong .

“I’m not a kid.” There’s a grin when Gregor finally hears his partner speak, sitting up to clap his hands together.

“He speaks! Here I thought I’d be talkin’ to myself the next few weeks.” He’s grinning when the clone beside him glances over, looking a bit amused himself. 

“Just…don’t talk much these days.” It wasn’t entirely true, Gregor having only seen his current partner chatting with Kix around the bonfire they’d all gathered around on Pabu before he and the other groups had left two weeks previous. None of them were sure when they would be getting news of the hidden distribution network, but had all resolved not to leave until someone was able to find the first lead back to Hemlock’s base.

“Unless I’m a medic?” Another look thrown his way, this one of slight surprise before the other smiles a little.

“I’ve been learning a lot from Kix, it’s nice not being stuck on cargo transport duty staring at boxes all day.” The other huffed, and Gregor hummed as he sat back. They’ve managed to find an unused storage room that overlooked the port they’d been assigned in a discontinued comm tower, and while a bit cramped and only housing two chairs and a small cot, it would make due for now.

“Didn’ meet him before I went missin’, but he’s a good sort.” Gregor watched a ship land, and for a moment the two wait until it’s revealed to be a family taking a break for whatever reason, and they sit back. “So, Feedback, what’s your story?”

“My…story?” Feedback blinked, and flicked up his recon scanner before removing his bucket after Gregor slips his on. “I still have two hours.”

“Shush, I wanna hear you talk for a change.” Gregor chuckles, and Feedback patiently waits for him to lapse into his own version of silence.

“Well, I used to be in the 172nd Recon Unit…it feels like a lifetime ago.” The slightly younger clone perched his chin on his hand after leaning forward to lean against the railing in front of him, watching the port begin to turn on its neon lighting and street lamps for the upcoming evening. “I lost them all due to one of the Jetti being a traitor, he sabotaged our equipment and sent us into a trap. I only survived because I looked dead from my comm unit exploding, and after that Commander Gree saved me from decommissioning.”

“Good one that Gree.” Gregor nodded, reaching over to give Feedback a gentle pat on the arm. “Glad you made it.”

“Me too. For a long time I was uh, I didn’t think I deserved to?” The younger man smiled a little, his shoulders slumping as he finally relaxed a fraction. “It’s not so bad these days, and knowing that we’re going to save so many brothers? I feel more alive than ever.” 

“Natborns call it survivor's guilt, I call it holding the line.” Gregor hummed, and the two watched the family from before finally heading back to their ship, the two children laughing and chasing each other as their parents trailed behind. “We didn’t leave them, they just marched on a little earlier than they were supposed to.We make sure no one forgets, then when it's our time, we get ta follow ‘em.”

“Holding the line…I like it.” 

They don’t speak for some time, Feedback eventually dozing as the hours inched by until he’s eventually shaken awake by Gregor.

“Kid, I think we found our ship.” Feedback can see his jovial partner is gone, and despite the quiet string of chuckles that left him as Feedback hurried to slip his bucket back on, it’s no denying the Captain is on full alert. “Docking Bay 4-D.”

The ship that landed would be unassuming to the civilian eye, but to the two bred for combat before they’d taken their first breath, they know it’s very much a dangerous ship. The pilot seems to be arguing with one of the dock workers, before the two hurry off towards one of the warehouses.

“Go, you’re faster.” Gregor orders as he grabs the sniper rifle beside his chair.

Just in case.

“Yes sir.” Feedback quickly gets up from his seat and pulls his bucket off, grabbing a small bag by the door before sprinting out and down the narrow hallway. They had sabotaged the most likely equipment the Imperial network was coming to grab, nothing serious but a problem that would give Feedback enough time to circle down the tower they had set up and book it. Every second felt like an hour as Feedback did his best not to draw attention to himself, darting through narrow alleyways and keeping as much equipment between himself and the warehouse their target had entered, but finally he arrived. Being a public bay there was no privacy, but no one seemed to really care about the man who circled the ship before picking out a spot to place the tracking beacon. It’s not hard to remove an access panel from one of the landing gears, and once the beacon is secure and the panel replaced, Feedback hides in the shadows to wait and watch.

“...see to it this doesn’t happen again, my employers don’t like me to be late.” The pilot of the ship was all but yelling at the dock worker, and it’s clear to the clone he’s Imperial just by the way he stands and speaks. 

“Many apologies, it won’t happen again.” The terrified doc worker makes sure the equipment the Imperial had come for is loaded in record time, and after some documents are exchanged, the ship has taken off and is long gone.

However, Feedback smiles at the night sky, the small device in his hand beginning to beep.

Gotcha

—----------------------

“Make sure that they all arrive safely, we do not wish to have an Eiradu incident again.” 

“Yes, Emperor Palpatine.” 

“Off with you then." The Emperor of the Galactic Empire turns as his lap dog bows once again, turning heel to do as he had been commanded to. Commander Fox is silent as he leaves Palpatine’s chambers, stepping aside and standing at attention when the Emperor’s pet heads towards the office.

“Lord Vader, sir.” Luckily Vader seems to want nothing from him this time, and Fox takes long strides towards the elevator and away from the room that felt like it was made of ice.

It wouldn’t matter, depending how the next three days went, he’d never have to step foot in there again.

What makes him pause is the sight of a natborn in his office, the man pushing back his anger as he salutes. He’s been more and more tense about seeing any of the Senators since the Empire had taken root, and hoped this one wouldn’t be around long.

“Fox, you don’t need to salute.”

Oh, it’s a friendly face for once, the Adlerian senator try not to look too nervous.

Fox sighs in relief as he quickly closes the door behind him, holding up a finger to sweep for any bugs that may have been placed. There have not been this time, and Fox wonders if his ploy of playing obedient servant has finally worked as he motions for the other to sit.

“I’ve passed along your message, and they’ll be ready.” Bail whispers, but knows the commander can hear him with his helmet on, constantly gazing around the room. “You’ll have only a few minutes.”

“They’re all I need. We’ll have to burn Coruscant for some time, I've left several false trails mixed with the right ones in the system, but it’ll only delay them.” While losing access to such an important planet would hinder their work, Fox knows there are other ways to free his brothers.

“You’re a good man, and I will always be here to help.” Bail gets to his feet, and for a moment the two look at each other. 

“Senator…” For the first time since Bail can remember he watches Fox lift off his helmet, revealing the tired and gaunt man underneath. “I have one other thing.”

“Yes?” Bail watches the other root around in his helmet before revealing two data cards, handing them over and watching the Senator hide them deep in his robes.

“Be careful, Alderaan is…being watched.” Fox slips his bucket back on, and after one final scan, opens the door to his office. “Keep them safe.”

“I will.” Organa places a gentle hand on Fox’s shoulder before he steps out and into the winding corridor of the Senate building, soon lost among the wandering crowds. The clone watches the coming and going of natborns before stepping back into his office, taking a deep breath before exhaling.

Three days, Commander Fox can do a lot in three days.

—----------------

Hunter nearly misses the flash of the comm unit in the Marauder, too busy tinkering with his blaster. At first he thinks he just saw a random flash, but when it goes off again, he moves to check it out. He’s hoping it’s one of the recon teams, it’s been nearly two weeks since they had all been sent out, and Hunter did not do well with waiting. One could only help islanders with chores or workout with the clones on the beach for so long before the thought of what they’re waiting for hits him, so he’s taken to hanging around his ship. 

Well, his home really, but that’s for another time.

He’s not going through the message they received for long before the world just seems to stop, Hunter’s eyes wide as he reads the repeating message over and over before remembering he can move. His response is surely littered with typos and reeking of desperation, but he has to know he has to know this is real.

The five minutes that pass are a decade long each, and he’s zeroed in when the simple response flashes on the screen.

9903 - 55 - 9903 - 55 - 9903 - 55

The Sergeant promptly turns to his side, heart thudding in his chest as he struggles to breathe, one hand gripping the console as tight as he physically could while his other hand shoots out to grip onto the comm chair. He’s not sure what he wants to do, his breathing ragged as the message keeps flashing over and over, and the only thing to keep him from throwing up is the fact he’s all but frozen in place from the tidal wave of emotions. 

It’s not his fault it’s not his fault it’s not his fault it’s n o t  h i s  f a u l t

“Hey Hunter, you mind if I take…Hunter?” Wrecker blinks when he hears loud ragged breathing when he jogs up into the ship, following the sound to the cockpit to find his leader in the midst of what looked like some sort of meltdown. Hunter is frozen in place, eyes wide and fixated on a message that Wrecker couldn’t be bothered with at the moment, instead slowly approaching the other and placing a hand on Hunter’s shoulders. This seems to break the spell of something holding his commander there , and Hunter jerks back from the communications console and against the larger clone, who takes the moment to lead Hunter out of the ship and towards the extended ramp. “Breathe for me Sarge.”

“I…am.” Hunter grunts between panicked breaths, but being out with the fresh air, and a familiar weight sitting at his side was helping Hunter to ground himself. It feels like eons until the crushing feeling on his chest has become more manageable, and despite his exhaustion, Hunter forces himself to remain upright and begin signing with slightly shaking hands.

“ Check the comm.”

“It can wait.” The pained noise that escapes Hunter seems as surprising to the man as it was to Wrecker, but the other didn’t seem too surprised as he put his arm around Hunter’s shoulders. He can see the tears that slowly start to fall as his leader trembles, hands now clamped over his mouth as he fixates on the distant crashing waves. Hunter wants to remain the stoic leader, after all he’s the one who needs to keep it all internal so he can help be a steady head in this turbulent time, but his body seems to have finally cracked from all the strain of the last few months. He’s grateful Wrecker doesn’t say anything, even remaining still for the man who was always fidgeting or moving for as long as Hunter could remember.

“ Go.” His hands aren’t trembling when he finally signs, and after giving Hunter a gentle squeeze, the taller clone gets to his feet and heads inside the ship, letting out a whoop less than a minute later.

The tears come again despite Hunter feeling as though he’d evened out, but this time they’re more ones of joy as he listens to Wrecker send a message while calling for Echo to hurry his kriffing ass to the ship right now .

—--------------------------

“For the record, this is not wise.”

Tech sighs, adjusting his goggles as he took a breath.

“I understand your hesitation, but my brothers and I never faltered due to our enhancements. I will mask my message so the Empire shan’t notice, so please stop expression your irritation for the twenty-eighth time in the last hour.”

“I didn't do it that many times…” The clone named Dogma grumbled, and Tech bites back a retort. Despite his grumpy and warranted distrust for the newcomer, Dogma seemed only to want what was best for his brothers, and Tech could respect that. He’d been helping Tech with his mobility sessions, and had finally acquiesced to Tech’s want to contact his unit once he’d helped improve their damaged long range communications. 

“If it helps improve your mood, I fully intend on leaving a message for Captain Rex in regards to meeting you and the others here.” As expected, Dogma paused for a moment, a look of fondness crossing his face before the usual scowl returned. Their slow walk to the communications room is in relative silence the rest of the way, and finally Tech is seated in front of a console.

Oh how he would never take his freedom to tinker for granted again.

It takes a few minutes to set up a secure link, Dogma eventually joined by Tup and a few other curious clones. Once he links up with one of the Batch’s secret channels, Tech has to take a slow breath as he hesitates. It’s a bit silly to feel…nervous about a simple communique, but he shakes the feeling off and starts with a simple phrase.

99

It was the first code they used once the Batch had become a fully fledged unit, hiding in plain sight for those who were unaware.

Tech sets it on repeat and waits, the small room beginning to fill with more survivors who wanted to hear about other surviving groups. The Batcher had explained that Rex’s network had saved hundreds if not thousands of their brothers, and the news had spread throughout the Venator within a surprisingly short amount of time. Clones he’d met once and many he hadn’t would trickle in and ask what he knew, and while Tech could only offer limited information, what he did share seemed to raise spirits and give many hope that batchmates or friends might still be alive. He knew that mere months ago, back when regs were regs and they were the Batch, Tech might not have cared to see the way those dull eyes would light up, or accept the handshakes or gentle squeezes to his shoulder from those who accepted him without hesitation. The gentle murmur of conversation silences when, less than two minutes after sending the message he gets on in response.

“What does it say?” A trooper, Appo he believes asks, and Tech is quick to pull the message onto his datapad. Everyone watches as he scrolls through it, and lets out a soft sigh before setting it aside and sending another repeating message in response.

9903 - 55 - 9903 - 55 9903 -55

“I would prefer to keep this private, it is a personal response.” The others nod as they await the next response, this one taking far longer and written in a way that makes him smile. 

“Good news I take it?” Tech hadn’t seen Fordo even enter, currently responding to his excitable brother with a short update promising that he was alive, and he needed to pass along a message.

“Very, I will give them your message for the captain once Wrecker’s…enthusiasm dies down.” Not a single clone within earshot misses the fondness in his normally flat voice, and he can hear some of them murmur good-naturedly.

“When you hear a response, I’ve already had Pabu queued.” The alpha gave Tech a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning to the others in the room with a slight wave. “Let him have some time.”

“Yes sir.” With a buzz in the air the room quickly empties, and with Dogma alerting Tech he’ll wait outside, he’s left on his own to re-read over the first response without a dozen eyes trying to pry.

Tech plsae let this be you, tell me where you aer, let uss know where you are, we’ll come bring yuo home

Tech wanted to wince at the multiple typos, but knows that this time he could let it go. He thought it had been Wrecker at first, but when Wrecker had actually responded, it hit Tech that this was the writing of a desperate Hunter. Setting his pad aside Tech leaned forward to send another message before Wrecker could respond.

I am coming home soon

Tech seems in much better spirits when Dogma fetches him almost an hour later, passing on the information for a meet-up with Rex once they had made it back to the medbay. He can hear various clones running to prep the ship for travel and general buzz for the chance to see other survivors, and for a moment it’s like being amongst his batch during happier times.

Soon, soon they would be back together, and be ready to take Hemlock on with the fury of hundreds of angry brothers.

Excellent.