#After Season 2 Finale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

levi-venn · 1 year ago

Text

Cross and Crow

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (Final) Available also on AO3

The Mount Tantiss cell where they kept Crosshair had a window, fortified with durasteel bars and a view that showed an indifferent blue sky with thin, half-hearted clouds.

The bastard scientists said the window was a show of kindness.

Crosshair found it cruel.

The view told him very little of his surroundings. He was facing North, two levels above ground. There was a docking bay to the East. No air traffic besides the occasional Imperial freighter carrying supplies.

He hated the view.

His eyes would snap to any movement outside, his heart betraying him with painful lurches, hoping that one of those damn supply ships would be the Marauder. His brothers swooping in to his rescue, forgetting every cruel thing he had said and done to them. End his nightmare. Take him back.

After two weeks of false hopes and bitter heartache, he sacrificed his thin blanket to cover the window.

Fuck them, he decided. They abandoned me first, anyway.

On that first blanketless night, his sleep was broken. He shivered through fractured dreams of a remote outpost, Mayday in his arms, staggering towards the warm light in the distance that seemed to drift farther away the longer he walked.

“Almost there…” He lied to his brother. “Hang on…Just a little farther.”

***

The next day, sunlight burst into the cell with laser precision, blinding him with thoughtless cheer. Crosshair snarled awake, squinting at the window.

There were holes in the blanket. It looked like the cheese he’d pull off his sandwiches and toss to Wrecker, only to have Tech point out the importance of calcium in Crosshair's diet.

He pulled back the blanket and peered out the window. The sky was empty. Even the clouds had abandoned him.

Still…something made these holes.

Breakfast came soon after. They fed him generously. Wanted him healthy for the experiments that came at him every three days.

He collected a piece of bread, a few bits of whatever the Empire considered "sausage", and a clump of egg whites. He placed the offerings on the sill.

At worst, ants would come.

At best...

The crow swooped in immediately, soundlessly landing, but cawing bombastically in Crosshair’s face. He nearly fell backwards into his cell.

He growled back at the corvid.

The crow ignored him and pecked at the food experimentally before accepting the eggs, knocking the bread and sausage back into the cell.

On training missions off-world, Crosshair would birdwatch through his rifle's scope. First out of boredom, then out of fascination. Birds didn’t thrive on Kamino so any chance he could, his scope would search for these creatures that took for granted the stormless skies.

More often than not, Hunter would toss something at him, pulling his brother’s focus back to their training. Once Crosshair deflected the pebble Hunter threw at him and it pinged Wrecker in the head. Wrecker turned and slapped the datapad out of Tech's hands. Tech, fuming at being wrongfully accused, tackled Wrecker and Hunter dove in to break them up. Crosshair sat in his perch, pleased with himself at the chaos below while above him two territorial hummingbirds fought over a tree too big for either of them.

The squad got black marks on their record that day. It was worth it.

After eating the eggs, the crow tilted its head left, then right, thoroughly examining Crosshair in every direction it could turn its large, midnight head. After its studies were complete, it flapped noisily away, leaving two black feathers behind.

Crosshair kept the feathers hidden under his pillow.

He didn’t know why.

The crow didn’t return for the rest of the day.

But Crosshair started looking out the window again.

Three days went by.

A full day of experiments. Poking. Prodding. Gassing. Drugging. Restraining. Isolating. Breaking. Rebuilding.

By nightfall he was dragged back to his cell without being told why they did any of it. They owed him no explanation.

And if I knew, would it be better? Worse?

They gave him stew. He could barely stomach smelling it.

Fighting the tremors in his hands, he plucked a piece of potato, shredded meat, and a few beans from the bowl and climbed onto his bed to the window. He placed the offering, then passed out onto his mattress, dead to the world.

The next day he awoke to a shrill caw.

His heart leapt in a dangerous way. He didn’t want to feel this. He didn’t want to experience a reprieve from this nightmare, a joy that could be ripped away at any moment. The crow was just a scavenger, a hungry opportunist. Eventually, it would move on and Crosshair would be alone again.

The crow looked at him and he scowled back.

It ate a bean.

It ate some meat.

It rolled the potato back into the room and onto Crosshair’s bed, which-

Wait...no...

Crosshair blinked. It wasn’t a potato the crow had give him.

It was a pinecone. Young. Unfurled. A little green.

When he looked up again, the crow was gone.

He hid the pinecone under his pillow, next to the two feathers.

He didn’t know why.

***

Dreams were more dangerous than hope. On nights after an experiment, he was usually too exhausted to dream. But this night he had pulled the pinecone from beneath his pillow. He clutched it as he slept.

And he dreamt of an ocean.

Loud waves crashing against the sturdy pillars of Kamino’s science facility. Crosshair and his brothers, too young to be soldiers and old enough to know better, sat preciously on a ledge overlooking the endless sea. They snacked from a tin of biscuits Tech and Hunter had stolen as a “stealth exercise”.

Crosshair balanced the tin lid on his finger and spun it for Wrecker, who giggled and clapped, getting biscuit crumbs everywhere.

Hunter said something to Crosshair, but the words were lost under the roar of relentless waves. Crosshair tried to shout back, but his words turned into a shrill-

Caw! Caw!

Crosshair snapped awake, his cheeks cold and wet.

He hissed and wiped the tears away, squinting up at the crow who was waiting for breakfast, beak pressed through the bars impatiently.

Breakfast came in the form of pastry discs, eggs, strips of meat that weren’t bacon.

The crow seemed to like the eggs best. Crosshair added more to the sill.

They ate together.

And the crow rolled another trinket onto Crosshair’s bed.

A piece of white plastoid.

It joined the pair of feathers beneath Crosshair’s pillow.

The pinecone stayed with Crosshair as he slept at night. It helped him sleep. It kept nightmares away.

He didn’t know why.

***

More experiments. Suffocating. Burning. Freezing. Breaking. Rebuilding.

When he was dragged back to his cell, he saw food was waiting for him. Some sort of egg hash, leftovers from the morning.

Egg will be pleased.

He left his offering on the sill for Egg, then he and the pinecone slept.

Too exhausted to dream, Crosshair woke to the sound of two loud caws. Always two.

Good morning.

Crosshair added more eggs to the sill and a piece of the terrible bacon.

Egg pecked at the bacon suspiciously, letting out a little disgruntled cluck that made Crosshair’s lips to twitch unexpectedly.

He didn’t smile. But he wasn’t scowling.

The tense knot of hopelessness was loosening in Crosshair’s chest as if Egg had been pecking at it each morning, fraying his sanity, giving him false peace.

Throw the tray at the window, he begged himself. Bang the cup on the bars. Shoo Egg - shoo the crow - away before reality kicks in. You’re in here. Egg’s out there. One day, he won’t come back.

Crosshair stared at his tray. It shook in his hands.

Do it. Get it over with.

But then something clattered on the tray.

Crosshair stared at the object.

Too late. Sanity gone. This isn’t real. It can’t be. I want this too much.

A piece of crudely crafted wood, a message carved in.

[Look down]

Crosshair stared at the words, struggling to keep his hope smothered.

[Look down]

He knew that handwriting. Meticulous. Precise. By a hand that taught Crosshair how to write, that comforted him when the thunder was too loud and the lightning too bright, that would ball into a fist when regs teased him about his hair, his lankiness, his uniqueness.

Crosshair climbed onto his bed.

Both he and Egg looked down together.

Crosshair hadn’t spoken in months, but there was no one else in the galaxy he wanted to speak to more than his brother at this moment.

With a raspy hiss he asked: “Where the hell are your goggles?”

Part Two: Tech and Crow

#Bad Batch #Crosshair #Bad Batch Crosshair #Star Wars #After Season 2 Finale #Wrote this to cope #Crosshair is fine and we're fine and everything is fine #First fic in Bad Batch fandom so be kind #This is part one #Part two will be Tech's part #Tech is also fine and we're all fine here now thank you how are you?

145 notes · View notes

levi-venn · 1 year ago

Text

Cross and Tech and Omega and Egg

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (Final) Available also on AO3

When CT-9904, the clone that would one day become "Crosshair", was first pulled from his birthing tank, he did not cry.

This was by design.

Engineered to become a “stealth soldier”, 04's vocal cords were shaped so that he could not raise his voice above a frustrated rasp. It was often muted by his incubator.

CT-9903, who would one day adopt the moniker "Tech", was also silent, but this was always a cause for concern. When 03 was quiet, he was most likely attempting his next escape. He had kicked the latch off his first incubator. He had poked the hinges off his second. By the third, Nala Se had nowhere to put the baby escape artist.

Putting 03 in 04's incubator was supposed to be a temporary solution.

A week later, when the new, reinforced incubator arrived, she picked up 03, and found his hand locked with 04's with an iron grip.

CT-9903 cried.

CT-9904 hissed.

And so, the ever patient Nala Se left 03 where he was there. There were no more escape attempts after that.

One day, CT-9903 began to cry.

Nala Se was in the middle of calming 05 who was trying to wreck the changing table with tiny, but mighty fists.

"Omega, see to 03, please, he needs to be changed."

Omega slid off her stool and without looking up from her datapad she said. "It's 04 who needs changing."

"How do you know?" Nala Se asked.

"03 cries louder when 04 needs help."

***

Too bright. Too loud. Deafening silence. Sudden isolation. Stimuli deprived and overloaded. Nothing. Everything. Relentless. Overwhelming.

Even if Crosshair did have the capability to scream, he'd never give the science officers the satisfaction. Let them wonder the limits of his body and the sanity of his mind.

He lost count of how many experiments they put him through, but one thing always remained the same: He gave them no data to work with.

Until today.

Omega didn't see him. The stormtroopers were moving her and Nala Se towards the lifts, and the glass chamber he was kept in was too far from the main hall, and there were too many other cells and test subjects between them. But there she was, shooting defiant looks at the troopers as they shoved her along.

It broke Crosshair in a way these scientists couldn't.

He tried to call out to her, but his throat was dry, his vocal chords ached, and his very DNA denied him. All he could do was let out a raspy growl.

The scientists took note of the sounds. It was the first reaction they had received from him. They congratulated themselves on their findings.

Omega disappeared into the elevator. She never looked back.

A science officer turned a dial. There was a lightning strike of agony. And Crosshair passed out.

***

It was dusk when Crosshair woke up in his cell. An obsidian eye gazed unblinkingly at him. Egg's caw was subdued. It usually was on lab days.

He shakily rose to the window with his plate to share his corn and bits of unidentifiable meat, when he saw something that wasn't there for him this morning: a travel biscuit.

Tech came by. Crosshair told him not to, but he still-

Suddenly, Tech popped up in the window. "You're back!"

Crosshair was mid-bite into the biscuit and choked, turning away to cough. "Tech, dank farrik!"

"A human cough,�� Tech declared, “has the estimated speed of a hundred and sixty kilometers per hour. A wookiee cough averages two hundred kilometers an hour."

"I told you to stay away."

“You did,” Tech said simply, breaking his own biscuit in half to offer to Egg. “But I disregarded your request. Consider this revenge for ignoring my wish for solitude when my legs were being reset."

“You carry grudges that long?" Crosshair asked, his amusement outweighing his exhaustion. "I just wanted your dinner roll."

“I see…” Tech said, then reached into the cell to snatch the biscuit out of Crosshair’s, hand. He took a bite, then handed it back. “Now we’re even.”

"Tech…Omega is here,” Crosshair murmured.

Tech’s face fell for a fraction of a moment, before it gave way to an analytical frown. “How long has she been here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were they experimenting on her?”

“Not that I could see.”

Tech was quiet for a moment. “When our brothers-”

Crosshair slammed his hand against the bars. Egg ruffled his feathers and let out a craah of protest. “I swear on the kriffing stars if you finish that sentence I’ll-” he stopped himself, not because he physically couldn’t do anything, but because the devastation in Tech’s eyes obliterated the empty threat. "If they do come, let it be for her. Let me rot here. I made my choice. I deserve-.”

"Give me your hand." Tech said, evenly.

“What? Why?”

Tech removed his glove and slipped his bare hand through the bars. “Because you need it.”

Crosshair stared at the hand, his memories drifting to the first record-shattering storm on Kamino he had ever experienced.

“When will it be over?” Crosshair had snarled, curling around his cadet rifle on his bunk while the storm raged outside.

“By my calculations," Tech said, laying in the bunk below him, "another three hours and then the winds will carry it Southward.”

“I hate your calculationsss,” Crosshair hissed, pressing his cheek against the cool metal surface of the rifle barrel.

“You can’t hate calculations,” Tech said, climbing onto Crosshair’s bunk. “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

Crosshair said nothing, hiding his face in his pillow.

“Give me your hand.” Tech said, laying down on the other side of the rifle.

Crosshair wanted to say no, but just then thunder shattered the sky outside as if trying to get into their room and pull them all into the sea. Crosshair’s hand shot out and clasped his brothers.

“The fear of thunder and lightning," Tech said, "is called Astraphobia. It isn't an irrational fear as an ocean storm is the most vast and dangerous sort of storm. We, however, are in a structure designed to withstand a storm twice this size,” Tech said. "It is safe."

It is safe…

Crosshair looked at his brother's hand extended to him through the bars. Scarred and callused like his, familiar and different, but always safe.

“We aren’t leaving without you both," Tech said, his hand suspended patiently. "I’m not leaving without you. You have my word."

Crosshair clutched Tech's hand and Tech pulled him forward slightly, giving Crosshair's hand a sturdy jerk as if to shake loose any resistance to his words. "Do you trust me?" Tech asked.

Crosshair tried to summon a biting reply, something to chase away the comforting relief this simple contact created.

Instead he pressed his head against the cell bars and squeezed Tech’s hand tightly. “I trust you.”

***

A week later, when Tech woke up, he didn't know the Marauder was coming to Weyland the following morning.

Even if he did know, it wouldn't have changed his plans for the day. Egg still would still screech in his face, urging him to get up. He still would make the trek back to the facility.

The last few days Crosshair seemed to be in better spirits all things considered. Today was lab day, Tech was determined to make it back to Crosshair's window before then, travel biscuits stocked on the window sill, hand ready to hold.

Until then, Tech and Egg were on a mission.

There were other windows to look into. Tech had looked into most of them searching for his sister without success. Today, he was down to his last four windows.

The first two were empty, the last one had a pair of Devronian hands clutching the bars. The third, however, a tuft of blonde hair could be seen and little else, as if a very small humanoid was gazing up at the cloudy blue sky.

It was then that Tech executed his three-phase mission:

Phase One: Establish that he is alive and well.

Phase Two: Inform Omega that Crosshair is also in the facility.

Phase Three: An ongoing phase. Tech would do his best to split his time between Crosshair and Omega. This may prove difficult, both in travel times…and the length of time away from his brother.

Even now, Tech found himself wishing he was at Crosshair's window, waiting for him to return. Waiting to be reassured his brother had survived whatever the science officers put him through that day. But Omega may need him, too. He would do whatever he could for his siblings, with his limited resources of travel biscuits and various informational tidbits.

Phase one began similarly to how he presented himself to Crosshair: A neatly carved message on a piece of wood light enough for Egg to carry.

Egg made himself comfortable on Tech's shoulder, sometimes watching with keen interest and other times preening Tech's unruly hair.

The message read [Tech Lives].

Seemed direct enough.

Egg flew up to the window and Tech could hear his sister's startled gasp followed by an inquisitive voice. "Oh hello! Are you a crow? Where'd you come from? What do you have there?"

Tech used to ask questions like this to every single person and animal he met. He wondered if they both received this inquisitiveness from Jango Fett or perhaps Omega picked this up from Tech.

Oddly enough, he hoped for the latter.

"What?" Omega exclaimed, evidently reading the message. "Who gave you this?"

Tech raised a finger. "That would be me."

The whole point of this gently revealed plot twist was to avoid any loud outburst that may rouse a guard.

It didn't work.

"Tech!!!" Omega shouted.

Tech grimaced, but he waved. "We should keep our voices at a reasonable volume."

"I knew you were alive! I knew it! I kept saying 'we never saw a body. He's still out there!"

Tech touched the side of his temple, missing his goggles immensely. "The 'No Body, No Death' Theory is not an exact science, Omega."

"It is for us," Omega said, stubbornly.

Tech smiled. "Are you alright?"

Omega shrugged. "They brought me here to push Nala Se into working on a project. I've been assisting her. Don't know exactly what we're doing yet, but it involves clone science and advanced genetic manipulation."

"It may or may not have something to do with whatever they are doing to Crosshair here."

"Crosshair is here?!" Omega bounced up and down, presumably on a bed. "Is he okay?"

"No."

Omega's pained expression made Tech wish he could have presented that answer gently. "But he will be," he added.

"Is this crow a friend of yours?" Omega asked, stroking Egg's chest feathers.

"More precisely Crosshair's friend. His name is Egg."

"Because he likes eggs?"

"Evidently."

"I've missed you, Tech." Omega hoisted herself up to get a better look at him. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm also glad you're well. My advice is continuing your work with Nala Se. Don't raise a ruckus and-"

"And our brothers will find us! Soon!" Omega said with far more confidence than Tech felt at this point.

"My thoughts exactly."

"There's something else you should know." Omega said, stroking Egg's feathered chest. "There's a scientist here. She's a clone, too…I don't think she was made on Kamino, though. She might have been born here."

"That's unsettling. Jango's genetic code has been depleted as far as I know. She would be a very distant relation to us."

"She's not one of us," Omega said, venomous. "If she was, she wouldn't be hurting our brother."

Tech wished he had his goggles, more importantly the camera attached to it. He could have provided Crosshair proof that his siblings care about him, indisputably.

"I'm inclined to agree."

"If Crosshair's not okay, Tech, you should go back to him."

"You don't need me to stay with you?" Tech asked.

"I'm with Nala Se. I'll be fine. Go back to Crosshair."

Tech nearly left immediately, but his concern for his sister lingered. "Are you sure, Omega?"

"He needs you," she said, with a knowing smile. "And you need him too. It's always been that way."

Tech frowned at the pointed statement…and frowned further at the truth of it.

He didn't have time to ponder, he needed to get back to Crosshair.

He needs me. My need to know he's alright is purely a coincidence.

Tech climbed up to Crosshair's window, ducking out of sight just as the droids dumped his brother onto the metal floor of his cell. Tech wasn't prone to anger, his logic cooled his temper before it could boil, but he felt the light crunch in his hand before realizing he had crushed one of the travel biscuits in his trembling fist.

He waited for the sound of marching droids to fade away, then he sat up and set the biscuit on the sill. Then he waited.

Egg cawed. Incessantly at first. Then mournfully. Then sat quietly and waited, too.

Dusk turned to night.

Tech felt a knot in his gut as he gazed at the stars. There was a time when he and his brothers would lay out on the roof of Kaminoan science center, watching for the clouds to part just long enough to see stars.

Tech would try to identify as many planets as he could before they disappeared again.

Crosshair would make up planets to annoy Tech and they'd get into a slap fight.

Wrecker insisted they were just dumb little lights.

Hunter swore he'd visit every single planet before the war was done with him.

It wasn't so long ago, but it was several lifetimes ago. They were different. The galaxy was different. Tech knew it was useless to grieve for the past. Life is ever changing and evolving. He did wish he had spent more time cherishing those moments, however.

They are over too quickly to quantify.

Egg flapped and let out a soft craah.

"Tech…"

Tech's glove was already removed when he sat up, reaching into the cell to clutch Crosshair's hand. "I'm here."

"You're late," Crosshair sneered, tiredly.

"So are you."

"Omega?"

"She's fine. They aren't hurting her. I believe she's leverage to press Nala Se into the Imperial service. She asked about you."

"Course she did," Crosshair said, dryly.

"Believe it or not, Crosshair, I'm not the only one who mourned your loss to the Empire."

Crosshair grunted in response.

He fell quiet. His grip on Tech's hand was weakening. When he spoke again, his voice sounded hollow…distant… "I'm tired, Tech. I don't know how much more I can take."

Tech tightened his hold on Crosshair's hand. "Think of it as a sunk cost fallacy. You've come this far. You've endured this much. You might as well keep going until-"

Crosshair's hand slipped suddenly from his.

"Crosshair?"

He heard Crosshair collapse on the bed.

"Cross?!"

Tech pressed his face against the bars, but could only see a blurry darkness.

Egg tapped the bars insistently, letting out a distressed chitter.

Then they both fell quiet.

And listened.

Faintly…Tech heard a very light snore.

Logic did nothing to soothe Tech's nerves at this moment. He was tired too. He was also hungry. Starving actually. Travel biscuits didn't have enough nutritional value for a full day's energy and he saved most of the biscuits for Crosshair.

They were both on borrowed time.

Tech leaned against the wall beside Crosshair's window, then slowly slumped over, curling up as best he could.

In addition to being uncomfortable sleeping on the concrete slab it was also dangerous to fall asleep on a high ledge. He didn't care. Tonight, just for tonight, he needed to be near his brother.

***

Crosshair awoke to what sounded like a sarcastic rooster mocking the morning sun.

It was Egg. Of course it was Egg. And it was most definitely sarcastic.

When Crosshair slowly rose from his cot, still sore from the previous days experiments, he didn't see Egg's scrutinizing gaze, however, he saw his tail feathers.

"Egg," he wheezed, holding his aching side as he struggled to stand on the cot. "What're you looking at?"

Tech was curled up on the ledge. His brother slept here all night.

Crosshair didn't remember much when he came back to his cell, his mind foggy from the drugs and his body pushed to a limit he didn't expect.

He must have passed out. And it must have scared the dank out of Tech.

He sighed and picked up the half eaten biscuit left on the sill. There were a few peck marks but it seemed Egg left most of it for him..He threw it at Tech, which bounced off his cheek.

Tech didn't move. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

In their cadet days, Crosshair often had to physically roll Tech off his bunk to get him up. Tech didn't just sleep, he'd pass out. There was no such thing as a steady sleep schedule for him and every few days his body would crash.

Crosshair had been so wrapped up in his own situation it didn't occur to him that Tech was more alone than he.

…and what else has he eaten besides travel biscuits?

The droids had already dropped off his stale hash brown and eggs this morning. Crosshair took two bites, gave a little egg to his crow and set the rest aside for Tech to wake up. That would be their routine from now on, he decided. Crosshair could live on very little food, he'd give the rest to his brother.

His brother who needed him.

Something distant in the cloudy sky caught Crosshair's gaze. At first he thought it was another crow, though he hadn't seen another since Egg showed up.

It wasn't a freighter either. Not an imperial one. And it was coming in at an odd, off-kilter angle, something Hunter often did when flying covertly under radar, though not nearly as gracefully as Tech.

Hunter…

"Tech!" Crosshair wheezed. "Tech, get up!"

Tech shot up, hair sticking up every which way, his cheek creased from laying on the rough ledge. "CT-9903 reporting for…duty…."

He blinked and looked up at Crosshair. "What happened?"

Crosshair smirked. "G'morning, sunshine." He nodded to the horizon. "You were right."

Tech followed his gaze, shielding his eyes from the sun. "They found us?"

Crosshair couldn't stop smiling if he tried. It was a thin smile, almost a sneer, and it made his cheeks ache. It felt good. "You sound surprised."

Tech whipped his head back at Crosshair, squinting and smiling. "Not surprised, just…shocked…that it took so long."

"Uh huh…Hunter and Wrecker aren't exactly the brains of our operation. You and I were always the smarter ones."

"I would never say that."

"You always say that."

Tech adjusted his non-existent goggles. "Perhaps…occasionally." He stretched and winced. "I better go meet them and give them the intel."

Crosshair dryly. "I'll stay here and watch the place."

Tech smirked. "Rest. Eat. We'll be together again soon."

Crosshair's jaw tightened, trying to summon the pessimism that kept his sanity stable, but he was tired, and in pain, and full of kriffing hope.

"Fine," Crosshair said, quietly.

Tech started to leave, legs swung over the edge of the platform. He paused. "Cross…?"

Tech rarely called him that. Just as Crosshair rarely called him "Techie". The names were reserved only for the rare moments fear and rarer moments of sentimentality. The last time he was called Cross, Wrecker had blown himself up with his own damn grenade.

When they left behind cadet training and dove head first into combat missions neither of them could afford childish fear or vulnerabilities. They left the nicknames behind with their childhoods.

"After you're free, Tech said, "we will drop you off wherever you want to go…" Tech's eyes seemed bigger even without the goggles magnifying them. "But I hope you stay with us."

Egg clicked indignantly at Tech.

"Egg, too?" Crosshair asked.

"Of course."

"I'll let Egg decide. He's the real brains of this operation."

"While I can't argue with that as he was the reason I found you, how do we know what he will-"

Egg flapped noisily with a shrill squawk and landed on top of Techs head, seating himself and screeching pointedly at Crosshair.

Tech grimaced, careful not to move. "Well….that seemed evident to me. Do you concur, Cross?"

"I concur…Techie," Crosshair smirked. "Now get me the hell out of here."

---

Thank you so much for reading. I’m grateful for the kind words, memes, and I loved the fanart of Egg!

If you enjoyed my writing, please consider checking out my book “Error: Detective Not Found (A Cake Pop Noir)”. You can find more info on it on my main tumblr account @blueberryhelper

#Bad Batch #Crosshair #Bad Batch Crosshair #Star Wars #After Season 2 Finale #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #Egg the Crow #please dont egg any crows #Egg is his name #He likes eggs #bb tech #bb crosshair #bb egg?#bb egg #thanks for reading #Tech and Crosshair are safe and happy. This is the proof

84 notes · View notes