#Jesse is the first reg I fell in love with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingforfun0714 · 1 year ago

Text

Hi everyone,

Sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been having some writers block. I’ve been trying to work on the block by drawing some fanart that I’ll post on my main @mabrego0714

Here are my WIPs I’m working on IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER so comment/reblog if you have a preference:

—Arcane Sisters of Mine fic Chapter 5

—Bad Batch AU—Jedi OC

—Game of Thrones/Jungle Book crossover

—Clone Wars Clone One-Shots (Day in the Life Of series, Shinies, etc)

—Delta Squad Reader Insert fic

I actually started getting writers block around the midpoint of Ahsoka. I hadn’t really had high hopes but it really fell short for me. I won’t get into it in this post, but because of my dissatisfaction with the show, my faith in Disney Star Wars has fallen. While I did think Rebels was more ‘kid-oriented’ at first, I didn’t hate it and I even grew to love it as a young adult (iirc Rebels is Disney’s first SW content). The Sequel trilogy should’ve been a wake up call.

Then, Clone Wars Season 7 was announced. I thought the animation was beautiful (aside from the horrendous clone model), and the soundtrack/music is incredible. That being said, I have some major problems with the story(ies). I liked the ideas but not the execution.

The Bad Batch’s intro is a perfect example.

It’s clear that the group is quite different in CW S7 than in their own show (which I won’t get into rn since those that have seen my previous posts know I hate tbb). In TCW, they are introduced as a unique clone squad that all have enhanced senses. They are shown to be disobedient and disconnected from the other clones, which makes absolutely no sense. They appear different to the ‘regular’ clones who have a derogatory nickname of ‘regs’. Their mission is to save a ‘reg’ clone who we (the audience) thought was dead: ARC Trooper Echo.

We see Rex’s loyalty to his men through his faith that Echo is alive. Despite being clones, Rex KNOWS the sound of Echo’s voice because of how long he’s served with him. Because of their prejudices, The Batch is skeptical and Crosshair, the sniper, even taunts Rex about Echo’s death. Despite being in the wrong, Wrecker, CF99’s weapons expert and largest of the group, defends Crosshair and attacks Jesse for defending Rex. That clearly set up a good group character arc of learning that all clones are brothers, not just the ones closest to you. At the end of Echo’s story, we learn that CF99 offers him to join the squad and he accepts (despite the group looking down on Echo and judging him once rescuing him).

We don’t learn until TBB that what little progress, if any, towards having a good relationship with clones is gone.

Next we learn about where Ahsoka’s been since walking away from The Jedi Order. It’s assumed she’s been hiding on the lower levels of Coruscant surviving. Her story opens with her speeder bike dying and her falling onto a garage platform belonging to the Martez sisters. Lots of people dislike the Martez sisters story arc due to their attitudes and behaviors. While I don’t hate them like a lot in the fandom seem to, they aren’t my favorite characters and I thought there were a lot of better stories that could’ve been told with Ahsoka.

That brings me to Ahsoka’s character. I get that people change over time and she was obviously still hurt by the Jedi Order, specifically the Council, but I didn’t like how easily she partnered with Bo Katan in the finale and sided with her cause given Bo’s history. She easily dismissed her relationship with Anakin (and Rex to an extent) despite her recognizing everything he did for her. But other than that, I loved Ahsoka meeting/fighting Darth Maul and the O66 moment for her and Rex was so tragic.

I loved the clones but I thought one person would’ve made it next level good: Kix, the 501st medic. I know in Legends he was frozen in carbonite/hypersleep or something and was woken up by pirates about 50-60yrs later, making him the last clone since the others have accelerated aging (aside from Boba/Omega). But I would’ve loved to see Kix either with Ahsoka and her 501st half or at least mentioned about being with Anakin and his 501st half.

So while I generally enjoy CW S7, I definitely prefer making my own interpretation and looking at fan-made art/stories.

Because I enjoyed the animation and music of CW S7, I was excited to see another show that has the same animation about clones: The Bad Batch. This is definitely one of those shows that has great ideas but the execution actually hurts it. They are shown to have lighter skin than the rest of the darker ‘regular’ clones and they all think they are superior to the other clones but especially Crosshair. Again, I won’t get into it, but TBB is a dumpster fire of racism and horrible story telling.

I definitely prefer the live action shows, but even then it’s hit or miss. Like I said, OWK and Ahsoka fell short for me. However I love Andor, Mando and TBoBF.

Which finally brings me to the upcoming Star Wars content animated and live action. SPOILERS—YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

First, the Mandalorian movie. I’m more hesitant about this movie despite my love for the show but that’s mostly because of Ahsoka. I didn’t like how Ahsoka was handled and because it left on a cliff hanger, I’m sure it’ll tie into the Mandalorian movie with Thrawn probably taking the role of the villain. I don’t think I really have any expectations other than it’s not bad, though Felony will helm the project so I’m not holding my breath.

Second, the Rey Skywalker movie. I definitely think Disney knows how badly they messed up with the sequel trilogy and will try and redeem Rey’s character. I think it’s an interesting premise. She knows Luke, who had a failed Jedi school, and she chooses to do the same, knowing it could fail like Luke’s but chooses to do it anyway. I’d love for this movie to show a new villain instead of Palpatine/Sith. I could see more Dark Jedi or even Night Sister magic being the main conflict instead.

Next, the James Mangold Star Wars movie. Supposedly it’s set thousands of years in the past and will focus on the first Jedi. I think that’s an interesting topic and a great chance to form new ideas as well as bring in Legends/EU content. However, with the mixed reviews of Indiana Jones 5, I’m tempering my expectations accordingly.

I know Taika Waititi has a Star Wars movie coming out as well but idk anything about it other than he wants to have original characters (which I think is good).

I think Shawn Levy has a Star Wars movie coming but again, no details about it since he’s been busy with Stranger Things S5 and Deadpool 3.

I believe Rian Johnson also has a trilogy set in a new place the lore has never explored before but I don’t think this trilogy is coming any time soon.

I believe that’s it for movies so over all I’m hesitant, but that’s because I need more info.

Now for the shows. I’ll start with the new ones.

Lando will obviously focus on Lando Calrissian played by Donald Glover. There’s no info about any idea of when the series will take place but I kinda hope it’s like right before the sequel trilogy.

Skeleton Crew has a good concept of a Jedi in hiding finding 4 Jedi kids and as long as it doesn’t get too family friendly and the writing is good I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I’ve always thought this was the story they should’ve told with the Jedi Younglings in TCW arc.

The Acolyte is about the growing dark-side powers in the final days of the High Republic era (~200yrs before TPM). It seems like a noir-detective style show (like AotC) with a Master/Padawan duo investigating a series of crimes. It seems pretty cool and I’m excited for it.

I’m hoping Mandalorian S4 will be better than S3. I really want Din to call Grogu his son. Not his kid, not his boy, but his SON. SAY IT.

Definitely looking forward to Andor S2 the most. I thought Andor was slow at first and a bit complicated due to how many characters are introduced, but I loved the story and the actors had the passion that made their roles believable.

I could not care less about The Bad Batch S3. No matter what happens, I definitely prefer fandom ideas/my own headcanons. I MIGHT binge watch the season once all eps are out but I will NOT be watching on episode release days.

That brings me to the planned animated Clone Rebellion show. I’m assuming it’ll be the same CW style set after TBB S3 and focus on Rex (and possibly Wolffe+Gregor) which leads me to believe we won’t get much in the way of the clone rebellion in TBB S3. If this show uses the same damn clone model I will cut out Disney Star Wars. I don’t mind making my own stories/AU’s/etc, but Disney in general is on thin ice as it is.

Thanks for letting me get all that out. This is basically why I haven’t been writing. I’ve been pretty disappointed with Disney as of late due to their horrible live action remakes, mid-level animated movies like Elemental, Strange World, Lightyear and mediocre SW content.

If you’ve made it through this whole post, thank you for your time and I promise I will post something soon.

-Maisy💙

#Star Wars #disney #fuck disney #Dave felony #fuck Dave #progress update #sw #thoughts #my thoughts #Star Wars spoilers #thanks for being patient

1 note · View note

cdblake1565 · 9 months ago

Text

I love that name; DADDY WARCRIMES.

I have loved him since his first snarky comment about working with Regs in the TCW. (Even though he was in my beloved Jesse’s face) I really fell in love when he started throwing pucks around and making ricochet shots. I love him despite his crimes against humanity. I love him more now that he is redeeming himself. I will forever be a Crosshair girlie. 🥰

“Loyal to no one but yourself.”

“I’ve changed.”

MY BOY DADDY WARCRIMES 😭

#daddy warcrimes #the bad batch #bad batch crosshair #cloneforce99 #tbb season 3 spoilers #the clone wars #crosshair’s redemption

78 notes · View notes

brother-genitivi · 3 years ago

Note

1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?

2. What was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their LI?

3. When they are having a fight, what is it about and how do they deal with it?

4. Their favorite physical feature on each other?

24. Is their any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt?

29. What are your favorite moments that happen between them?

30. How does their love change as they get older?

So many but they're all good questions bckdjxn

Sienna you're insane for this, ily and thank you <3

1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?

If Vedaat was asked, he would say everything. Echo is passionate. He's overwhelmingly good. His affinity for tactics rivals Vedaat's own. He's loyal and competent and emotionally intelligent, and he loves his family. He likes reading reg manuals because he finds the information fascinating. Reg manuals! Echo is emotional and soft and fierce and stubborn in his views. Resilient. He adapts. He loves, and loves, and loves.

What drew Echo to Vedaat is how painfully mortal he is. Many view the Jedi as other-wordly, capable of deeds beyond their imagination. Vedaat is powerful, yes, but he's also just a person who happens to be Force sensitive. He's flawed. He bleeds just like everyone else. He cries at sad moments in films, and he cries again when the protagonist gets their happy ending. He's not god-like. He's not some celestial being. What Vedaat is, first and foremost, is a good friend.

2. What was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their LI?

Vedaat is quite oblivious, towards the advances of others and his own feelings. There never was a single moment he could pinpoint where he fell for Echo. It was a gradual thing that built up over time. One day he sat down and said to himself, "I love him, don't I?" For him, asking was confirmation enough.

Echo knew when he saw Vedaat looking at him a certain way. He had given Echo a small nazar charm to wear on the inside of his armour. When Echo told Vedaat he knew about its cultural meaning, Vedaat smiled and looked at him with what could only be described as complete adoration. Echo wanted that smile immortalised in his memory.

3. When they are having a fight, what is it about and how do they deal with it?

Vedaat fights with Echo about The Bad Batch. They rescued him, and so Echo feels like he owes them. Vedaat thinks he doesn't owe them shit. Echo points out that they risked their lives to save him. Besides, it's thanks to TBB that they got reunited. Vedaat disagrees; Jesse, Kix, Rex and Anakin also aided in his rescue, so does he owe them as well? Echo struggles to see how Vedaat can so easily cast them off (though every comment about 'regs' makes it slightly easier). Vedaat hates seeing Echo treated the way they treat him.

Echo fights with Vedaat about Fives. He had lied, not just to Echo but the rest of Domino as well, about Fives's so-called 'death'. Vedaat believes it was necessary to keep Fives safe, and he would be right in saying so. But still... it's Fives. His batch-brother. The man he calls his twin. Echo recalls wishing he had died at the Citadel, because that was preferable to living in a world without Fives. If there was anyone who deserved to know his brother was alive and well, it was him and his batchmates.

If their fight isn't resolved in the first conversation (as they like to tackle these things immediately), then things get a little tense. Echo gives him the silent treatment. Vedaat can't bring himself to make eye contact. It's during this time that they need space to think about what they want to say. Ultimately, they get through it by listening to each other. Acknowledging the other's fears, views, why they might feel that way. Sometimes all one needs is to be understood.

4. Their favorite physical feature on each other?

Vedaat loves Echo's eyes. They're a lovely shade of brown, dark and deep. They make him think of warm things. It's the fact that they crinkle when Echo smiles that really gets to him.

Echo's favourite feature of Vedaat's is his chest. He loves to run his hands over the surgical scars there. Vedaat is just... warm and nice to lie on, and Echo finds comfort in hearing his heart beating.

24. Is there any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt?

The first time Vedaat tells Echo he loves him, he doesn't say "I love you". He tells him, "Seni seviyorum". I am loving you. Vedaat tells people all the time that he loves them in Basic. He says it to his friends in the Order, he said it to his Master, he says it to he men under his command.

In Basic, it has no real weight, though he means every word. In his own language, it's much, much more intimate. He tells him that after they get back from Skako Minor. Loving Echo is an active, conscious decision he makes. I am loving you.

29. What are your favorite moments that happen between them?

I love the little moments between them. Talking about a holovid they both watched and analysing the characters. Sitting with each other at mealtimes. Vedaat telling Echo that he and his brothers are always welcome to spend time at the Jedi temple with him. Absolutely wheezing at an inside joke that isn't even that funny and no one else gets. Playing card games. Designated stick spinning time where they pretend they're both Jedi.

Then there are the larger moments. First kiss. Reuniting on Skako Minor. Telling Echo that Fives is dead. A rushed call on Echo's comms moments before Order 66 is executed, warning Echo to be careful because Vedaat has a very, very bad feeling. Reuniting again after Vedaat is presumed dead. Saving each other's lives over and over. Sleeping in the same bed for the first time and realising it's the best sleep they've had in weeks.

30. How does their love change as they get older?

It matures.

At the start, they're two uncertain 19 year olds who have little experience of relationships. It's utterly innocent. A lot of staring across rooms and acts of devotion. A lot of promises they believe they can keep. They're young and think they have time.

Post Skako, their love becomes more messy and rushed, because they feel like they have no time at all. The separation anxiety is debilitating. They're not in the right head space for a healthy relationship, and they have many other things to worry about. Their love doesn't wane (if anything, it grows stronger), but they don't get many chances to explore and develop it.

Order 66 is executed and Vedaat goes radio silent. They reunite again. There's a deeper understanding between them. They're 22 years old - so young, and they feel so old. They're both traumatised individuals. They've seen so much and are eager to hold onto what they have. They love each other. They do have time.

#asks #vedaat altın #vedaat x echo #vecho #that's their ship name now idc #sienna i went insane over these questions thank u <3

4 notes · View notes

eyayah-oya · 4 years ago

Text

My Brothers

66 FOLLOWERS!!! Thank you to everyone who has followed me and stuck around as I mess around with Star Wars and the Clone Wars. This fic is for you all!

Also, I’ve had this story idea rattling around in my brain since last Saturday. I hope you all enjoy and I’m sorry in advance.

Rating: T

Pairing: none (maybe Rex/Echo if you squint)

Warnings: canon typical violence and death (I’m sorry a named clone gets killed off screen ToT)

Ao3 link

Echo let his blaster fall to the ground from his numb fingers. The Empire had sent Crosshair after them again, with five full squads of troopers, trying to terminate the traitors. They’d finally managed to subdue them all, including Crosshair, and had removed his chip. All that was left was waiting for him to wake up and help him deal with being under the control of an evil regime.

Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Omega gathered around Crosshair, just like they had done for Wrecker when his chip had activated, and waited. And suddenly, Echo found he couldn’t stay there a second longer. He had other duties to attend to.

The small clearing the Empire had cornered them in was covered in the bodies of fallen stormtroopers. If Echo blocked out the past year, he could even believe that these were squads of shinies and that the rest of his brothers would be at a camp nearby, mourning the loss of the ones killed in action. But the Empire destroyed everything good left in the galaxy and left behind flimsy illusions of a perfect society.

Rather than pay any kind of attention to his team—because they weren’t quite family, not really—Echo moved to the closest stormtrooper, clad in the new, weaker armor the Empire supplied its army with. He knelt down in the blood-soaked dirt and pulled off the trooper’s helmet, needing to see their face.

The clone that looked up at the starless sky with blank eyes couldn’t have been older than eight. They had probably only just been deployed before the Order went out and the galaxy fell. Echo brushed his fingers over their eyelids and closed them. “Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la, vod’ika,” he whispered. Echo wished he knew their name. Instead, he slipped the tags from around their neck, emblazoned with their CT number, and placed them in his hip pouch. There wasn’t anything he needed in there at the moment, and it was more important that these brothers be remembered.

Echo moved to the next one and repeated the process. Again. And again. Some clones were older, like Rex or even Echo himself. Others were obviously shinies, sent to die for the new Empire. Most fell somewhere in between. All of them carried the face that Echo had spent his whole life looking at, a comforting familiar that he no longer could indulge in. None of the clones he had teamed up with shared a clone’s face. The only one that Echo had seen since they’d left Kamino was Rex.

Force, Echo missed Rex. He wished Hunter had taken Rex up on his offer and they could have gone off and actually made a difference in this awful galaxy. Maybe Echo could have helped save his brothers instead of slaughtering them.

But.

Standing among the bodies of his dead brothers, Echo felt like wailing. Like crying. Like giving up for once in his short, pathetic life. He hadn’t felt this way since Rex had told him exactly what had happened to Fives. And Hardcase. And Kix. And Jesse. And the rest of the brothers that Echo loved and fought beside. They were all gone.

When he’d been rescued from the Techno Union and realized the full extent of what they’d done to him, Echo had sworn he would never hurt another brother again as long as he lived. He’d already been the weapon used to kill countless numbers of clone troopers (and Echo really didn’t know how many brothers had died because of the information the Techno Union had dug out of his brain), he refused to be used like that again.

Echo stood in the middle of a clearing, surrounded on all sides by the bodies of the brothers he had helped kill to save one. How many could he have saved if he’d just spoken up to the rest of the Bad Batch? How many would still be alive if he’d had the courage to present his own tactics instead of relying on Hunter’s?

The next bucket he pulled off revealed a face that was more familiar to him than all the others. This was a vod he knew personally. His hair had been shaved down, but from the tan lines on his head, it was obvious he had had a mohawk for years. There was the cute scar on his lip from when he’d sparred Commander Cody and bitten through his lip. Echo had laughed with Fives and congratulated the shiny on lasting longer than usual against Commander Cody.

There wasn’t a speck of 212th gold on Wooley’s armor.

They’d stolen his mind, his free-will, his identity, and Echo had stolen his life. He’d killed the adorable floofy-haired kid with the most lethal tooka eyes in the entire GAR and a wicked right hook. The one who loved stories and songs from far off planets and could weave the most incredible tales around the fires after a battle. His sightless eyes gazed up at the stars he’d loved so much.

With a silent sob, Echo fell to his knees and pressed his forehead against Wooley’s, cradling his body as best as he could without a hand. “Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he rasped as tears streaked down his cheeks. “Ni ceta. I’m so sorry, Wooley. I should have saved you. I could have saved you.”

There was nothing but the still-warm skin of Wooley’s forehead pressed against his own. No shaky breaths or snarky comebacks or easy forgiveness. Nothing but the soft murmur of Hunter’s voice as he assured the others that Crosshair would be alright. Nothing but Echo’s own gasping sobs as he mourned the lives he had taken with his own hands.

“Echo?” Omega’s voice startled him, and he nearly reached for the blaster he’d dropped before he registered that she wasn’t a threat. “What are you doing out here?”

“It’s nothing, Omega,” Echo said, his voice rougher than usual. “Just gathering intel. You should go check on the others, make sure they’re holding up alright now that they have Crosshair back.”

“I’m sure they’d all feel a lot better if you came and joined us,” Omega suggested. She sounded worried. Echo didn’t have the heart to turn around and comfort her, knowing she would see the tears on his face.

“I’ll come back when I’m done. He’ll probably be waking up soon anyway.”

For a moment, there wasn’t any sound behind Echo, but he refused to turn and look. Someone had to be the voice of reason for the Bad Batch, even if they didn’t listen very often, and he couldn’t do that if they saw how broken he really was. Not even sweet Omega.

A gentle, small hand settled briefly on his shoulder, and then Omega walked away, picking her way carefully through the dead bodies. Echo let out a shaky sigh and set Wooley down on the ground again. As gently as he could, he closed Wooley’s eyes and ran a finger down his cheek.

“Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la, ner vod’ika. I’m so sorry, Wooley. I will do everything I can to free the rest of our brothers. Haat, ijaa, haa’it,” Echo vowed softly. He wore Wooley’s tags around his neck, rather than putting them in the pouch with the others. Echo wanted—needed—the weight to keep him grounded even as he continued to mourn and honor the brothers he’d killed. Dread and grief weighing down his every step, Echo moved through the remaining bodies, removing their helmets and collecting their ID tags so he could remember every one of them. There were a few more brothers he recognized from the 212th and the 327th, though he hadn’t ever been as close to them as he had to Wooley. It still hurt, looking at these men whom he’d loved and cherished, knowing that he was the one that had killed them. Knowing that he was responsible for them dying as slaves of the Empire.

At some point, Echo heard Wrecker’s joyful yell, Tech’s babbling lectures, and Hunter’s quiet reassurances. Even Omega chattered excitedly. Crosshair must have woken up, then. Echo didn’t move to greet him or welcome him back to the world of free-will. Instead, he focused on his task. There were only a few left, and then . . .

And then what? What would Echo do? He had the commlink Rex had slipped him before he’d left them on Bracca, but could he really abandon the Bad Batch now that they were all reunited?

Yes, Echo realized. Omega was the only one that he would miss extensively. He just didn’t belong with these off-color clones. He might not really belong anywhere, but he had a duty to his brothers and to Rex. His last true brother. Echo would try to contact him.

But first, Echo couldn’t leave his brothers like this. Left rotting in some forgotten clearing on some forgotten forest moon in a forgotten sector of the galaxy. It felt . . . wrong to leave them like this. Echo knew there was a shovel among their gear on board the Havoc Marauder. It would be difficult, but he could bury them. Give them each a proper send-off.

It was a good plan. Echo knew that the others wouldn’t understand. They’d be angry with him, probably try to make him change his mind. Maybe even tell him that these “regs” weren’t worth the effort it would take Echo to bury each of them. Especially since he only had one hand. Handling a shovel would be difficult, but he would do it. For his brothers. Regardless of what the squad said or complained about.

With a final, murmured Remembrance, Echo stood and made his way back to the ship. Tech probably kept the shovel in the cargo hold with the rest of the gear they didn’t use as frequently. Most likely with the other survival gear he’d dubbed “unnecessary until necessary”. Echo knew that feeling very well.

As cluttered as the cargo hold was, it actually didn’t take Echo very long to find the shovel, and soon, he walked back down the ramp to go find the best place for a mass burial site.

“What are you doing?” Tech asked, and Echo stopped in his tracks. “Why do you have our shovel? Is there some kind of specimen that would be beneficial to take with us?”

Echo’s grip on the shovel constricted and he very carefully didn’t look at the others. “Just a little bit of maintenance and storage,” he answered, voice tight with anger. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is there something wrong with the ship?” Hunter asked.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with the ship,” Echo answered, a bit shorter than he’d intended. “Relax. I have everything under control.”

“Oh, great,” Crosshair drawled, and Echo had to fight to keep his shoulders from climbing to his ears. He’d forgotten how caustic the sniper could be. “We’re taking orders from the reg now.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Wrecker boomed. “Hunter’s still our Sarge!”

Echo decided it would be better just to walk away. Until a soft, sweet voice halted him in his tracks.

“Echo, are you going to be digging holes for the stormtroopers?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Omega. That would be illogical. Echo wouldn’t spend time burying a bunch of stormtroopers, especially as he doesn’t have two hands and can’t hold the shovel properly,” Tech scoffed.

More machine than man, Echo sighed heavily. He turned around and faced the Bad Batch for the first time since they’d managed to take down Crosshair without killing him. They would see the red, sore eyes and the tear tracks down his grimy cheeks. They’d see Wooley’s tags, standing out against the dark paint of his armor. As much as he should be worrying about showing them that vulnerability, Echo had reached his breaking point.

“Yes, Tech, I am going to bury them. It’s the right thing to do,” he said slowly and evenly, desperately trying not to lose his temper.

Tech heaved an annoyed sigh, like Echo had been placed on this team specifically to bother him. “Again, that is illogical, Echo. The Empire will send someone out to dispose of the corpses, or the wildlife will eat them before anyone else arrives. We will need to move shortly to avoid detection, especially since they’ll know we have Crosshair once they see this failure.”

Failure? Echo swung the shovel off of his shoulder and dropped it to the ground. “Is that what you see? A bunch of failures that we merely disposed of?” he growled softly.

Wrecker gulped and muttered a not-so-quiet “uh-oh” while Hunter’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Omega looked like she wanted to hug someone, maybe somehow prevent this fight, and for a moment, Echo regretted starting anything. She was the bright star left in his life, but he was fighting for all the other bright stars that he’d murdered. He needed to say this.

Crosshair didn’t actually say anything, and Echo couldn’t help but be relieved at that. He only had to deal with Tech.

“Well—yes,” Tech fumbled, clearly confused as to why Echo was clarifying anything.

“You know what I see?” Echo asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I see my brothers that we killed to save yours. I see my brothers that I swore to never harm again, murdered by my hand. I see men who had as much choice in their actions as Wrecker or Crosshair, killed simply because they were in our way while we saved Crosshair.”

“We didn’t have a way to save them all,” Tech argued back. “Besides, they’re just regs. Crosshair is a modified clone who would be more dangerous in the hands of the Empire than any other average clone. It was logical to rescue him above the others.”

“Tech—” Hunter tried.

But Echo snapped.

He pulled Wooley’s tags from around his neck and held them out, a vicious snarl on his face. “Do you know who these tags belong to? Of course, you don’t. These tags belonged to my little brother. Wooley from the 212th. I watched him grow up from when he was a just a little shiny, rescued from the Separatists who had been planning on selling him to the Trandoshans to be hunted down for sport. I watched him learn how to fight from Commander Cody himself until he could hold his own for several minutes. Wooley had a stupidly adorable, fluffy mohawk and the best tooka eyes in the GAR that he used liberally on General Kenobi to get him to go to medical. He loves music and stories and the stars. And I killed him. I shot my little brother, my vod’ika, so you could save yours.

“I’ve killed hundreds of my brothers, men that I served proudly beside for two years, to save your brother. I swore to never harm another brother, and I broke that promise for you, just so you could save Crosshair. And now, you want me to just leave them here to rot? For the Empire to find?” Echo shook his head with a sharp, bitter laugh. “No, I’m done. I refuse to turn my back on my brothers and if you can save yours, then I can save mine. Get Crosshair and Omega out of here and lie low so the Empire doesn’t find you, but leave me here. I’m saving my brothers, this time.”

He leaned down and picked up his shovel. Really, he had no idea how he was going to dig fifty graves with only one hand, but he had to do it. He had to try.

“Echo,” Omega whimpered and he couldn’t help but drop to his knee and hold his arm out towards her. She immediately rushed into his hug and Echo held her close for a moment, dropping his shovel back to the ground. “Don’t go, please?”

“Omega, I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But my purpose is elsewhere in the galaxy. Hunter and the others will keep you safe, but right now, I have a duty to save my brothers and I intend to do it. I can’t do my duty if I stay with the Bad Batch.”

“What if we came with you?” Omega sniffled.

Echo locked eyes with Hunter, and then Tech and Wrecker. Crosshair didn’t even bother looking up. “These guys are your family, Omega, and they need to do what’s best for you. You shouldn’t have to experience war, and that’s exactly where I’m going. I’m a soldier and a weapon that any rebellion against the Empire could desperately use. That’s what I was made for.”

“You’re not—” Hunter started, and Echo could see the desperation and uncertainty in the Sergeant’s eyes. “You’re not just a soldier or a weapon anymore, Echo. You have a place with us.”

“I’m a droid,” Echo said. He gently nudged Omega back and pressed his forehead against hers for a second before giving her a little push towards the rest of the Bad Batch. He stood up and looked at the other clones, so unsure of what to do in this kind of situation. “I was turned into the ultimate weapon against my brothers, and Tech said it himself. I’m more machine than man now. All I’m good for is doing menial repairs on the ship and being sold for credits. I was “just a reg” before I became a prisoner of war, and you wouldn’t have even given me a second look if I wasn’t torn apart and put back together again. I’m just a replacement that can be used when one of you isn’t able to fulfill your duties. A stand-in.

Echo took a deep breath. “I need to fight against this Empire the best way I can, and I need to save my brothers. That is my mission now. I will fulfill my duty.”

“But you can’t go,” Omega said, and there were tears glistening in her eyes. “Echo, you’re a part of my family and I just got you.”

“Omega, you’re a part of my family, too. But you know that we’d do anything to save our family and I have a whole galaxy filled with my brothers who all need to be saved.” Echo reached into one of the pockets on his belt and pulled out the secondary secure communicator he had built just in case. “I’ll always be there for you, Omega. I’m only one call away, and if you or the rest of the Batch get into trouble, I’ll come and help. But I need to do this.”

She took the comm in trembling hands, then with a sob, threw her arms around Echo’s legs and shook. “I’ll miss you so much, Echo.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Omega. But don’t worry, I’ll keep in touch as much as I’m able to. And we’ll see each other again. I know it.”

Echo let Omega hug him for as long as she needed as he ran his fingers through her hair soothingly. He would miss her a lot. In fact, she reminded him a lot of Ahsoka when she was a youngling at the beginning of the war. Naïve and just wanting to prove her own worthiness. Eventually she stepped back, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

“I understand why you need to go,” Omega said with a watery voice. “I’ll call you every day, okay?”

He chuckled. “Maybe not every day, but as often as we can both manage. I promise.”

Hunter stepped forward and put his hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Echo—“ he began, but Echo held up his hand.

“It’s alright, Sarge. Just—take care of her and each other. And if you’re ever stuck in a situation, give me a call and I’ll come help.”

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to come with us? There’s plenty of room for you.”

Echo shook his head. “You saved your brother. It’s time I saved mine. And you need to do what’s best for Omega. Taking her into war zones would be a terrible idea.”

Hunter stared at Echo for a long time, likely trying to figure out if there was any way he could convince him to stay, but Echo held firm. He didn’t belong with the Batch. Never really had. They were good for a temporary posting, just to help readjust since Rex was busy with the war and dealing with the loss of so many brothers before everything went to hell. Echo was ready to get back into the thick of the fighting.

“Wrecker, go grab Echo’s gear and whatever rations and medical supplies we can spare,” Hunter ordered. He turned back towards the rest of the Batch. “Tech, get Crosshair on board and start up the engines. We need to get going as soon as possible in case the Empire returns. Omega? You should probably go get strapped in for takeoff.”

The Batch scrambled to obey, though Echo noticed both Wrecker and Tech giving him uncertain looks. Little brothers were always the same. They always wanted to make sure they were doing the right thing and looked to their ori’vode for advice and help. Hunter had filled that role for so long, but Echo had carved out a tiny space for himself, too. As much as Echo wanted to help them, he had his duty. And he could only really help them if they actually listened to his advice. But it didn’t hurt to leave them with a few last suggestions.

“Hunter, don’t trust Cid. They’re only looking out for themself and will likely betray you if it’s profitable enough. Find someone you can really trust and have them teach you how the galaxy works so no one else can take advantage of you. And take care of yourself and the others. Especially Omega.”

Hunter nodded and saluted Echo. Echo gave a weak grin and returned the gesture before he picked up his shovel once again. He had work to do.

It didn’t take long for the Havoc Marauder to take off, and he watched the ship silently until he could no longer see them before turning back to the field of white, broken bodies. His hand slipped into his belt pouch and removed the secure transmitter Rex had given him before they’d parted ways. Without hesitation, Echo flicked it on and called the only saved frequency.

“Rex? Yeah, I’m gonna need a pickup. Got room for one more in your little rebellion?”

(Hours later, and after Echo had finally finished burying the last body, Rex’s ship touched down in the clearing. The door slid open and five notes were whistled out of the opening. It was a call Domino squad had come up with while on Rishi and one that he and Fives had continued to use in the 501st. The only person left that would know that tune was Rex. Echo grinned and returned the whistle. Seconds later, a shape that was definitely not Rex barreled out of the ship and into Echo’s arms. Ahsoka was taller than he remembered, and a lot more weary and sad. But she was alive, and that’s what mattered most.

Echo looked over her montrals and grinned at Rex, who leaned against the ship and just watched him reunite with his long-missed jetii’ka vod’ika. The Empire may have taken everything good out of the galaxy, but a few small pockets persisted. They had hope and they were willing to fight for it.

“Let’s go save our brothers,” he said, arm wrapped around Ahsoka’s shoulders as they walked back to Rex. Echo only paused once to look back at Wooley’s grave. He would not be forgotten, and Echo would make sure that for every life he took, he’d save two more. It’s what he owed them. It’s what his brothers deserved.

Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la. Not gone, merely marching far away.)

#mom echo #clone trooper echo #the bad batch #tbb omega #mando'a #what I think should happen #echo has trauma #i'm so sorry wooley #i didn't want to kill you

18 notes · View notes

a-lil-perspective · 5 years ago

Text

Remember Me/Holding On (For Dear Life)

A/N: When I tell you I wept... I wept while creating this chapter. Here’s a bit different than what I normally write. Brother time. Verd’ika/Reader is not featured in this tidbit below. As much as this is her storyline post Order: 66, this is also very much the Bad Batch’s, and I’m alternating. I’m so happy to be bringing Echo into the mix, but this is incredibly sad. This chapter/scene is set less than three months after TCW episode ‘Victory and Death’... I’m sure you can guess where we’re going with that here. [Warnings: Angst, Mourning] @starflyer-104 @thegoodbatch @obiorbenkenobi @kriffingunlucky @karpasia @halzore @mangoberry43 @fxndxmxnxce @everyonehasanindividuality (Tag List is open:))

Chapter 2

Post-Imperial Proclamation

PIP Rotation Number: 79

Destination: Planet of Unknown Origins

Documentation: Scouting for Relics. Will update with any pertinence.

—Signed by Mar-4

~***~

“Well... at least the atmosphere is breathable,” Tech optimistically supplied as a small bank of snow catches in the winds from the Northeast and sprays the engineer in the face.

“Sure, but that wind is something else,” Wrecker mumbled, involuntarily shivering from a particular gust. Even the largest member with the toughest resilience to natural elements is rapidly discovering that his shield of plastoid is no match for the chilled temperatures.

“This planet seems to be nothing but a wasteland... but sometimes, not everything is what it seems,” Hunter wisely mused, keeping a few paces ahead of his crew. While the Sergeant was thankful for the stagnant and largely desolate atmosphere demonstrating hospitality to his heightened senses thus far, Hunter couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something out there was amiss.

“Hey Cross, anything yet?”

“Negative, Sarge,” the sniper briskly informed before quietly retreating back to his task of visual scanning via HUD.

“Echo, are you absolutely certain this is where those supposed Republic relics are? I’m still not picking up anything on my own scanners—”

“We’re definitely in the right place, Tech,” Hunter assured. His face scrunched and brows fused together in fervent concentration. He took a long whiff of the atmosphere, and stray icy specks slithered underneath the Sergeant’s helmet, swirling in his nostrils whenever he inhaled. Hunter’s senses become further rapt the closer the proximity. Therein, a wide range of sensations Hunter could make out in the immediacy: the scent of weathered but mixed alloys, and wet snow blanketing them. Occasional sparks from decrepit tech still spouting some juice. Weak pulses—of engineering components, that is. Definitive proof of remains; hopefully Republic. Hunter takes another measured breath and hones in further.

It was nothing of technological frequencies coursing through his veins this time. Instead: a distinct scent that assaulted the perceptive Sergeant. A scent too distinct and too familiar in a time of waxing chaos.

The smell of death.

“Markers. Markers in the distance. About two klicks out, directly ahead,” Crosshair suddenly informed, a sense of urgency coating his estimations.

“What kind of markers?” Hunter didn’t appreciate the way his tone failed to match his usual semblance of composure.

“Can’t tell. But they seem makeshift. All clustered together,” Crosshair supplies.

Like grave markers.

“That sounds really deliberate,” Wrecker muses aloud. “You think it’s a sign of some kind?”

“Only one way to find out,” Hunter murmured.

~~///\\\///\\\///\\\~~

Only one way to find out.

Echo wishes he never would have.

But it’s better he did.

Closure.

Yet painfully open-ended.

It’s cold.

Echo is hot.

The tears that flow down his face, streaming underneath his helmet, are hot.

Yet Echo is as numb as his cheeks, barely stinging from the cold.

Names to faces. Facing each name. Empty helmets, not one the same. Lifeless eyes through tinted black. Buckets staked, just want them back. Acknowledging then, blue and white. Honorable men, once shining lights.

Brothers.

A graveyard of brothers.

Brothers of the Five-Oh-First.

Oh, Fives.

Jesse stares directly at Echo, devoid of any emotion. The latter falls to his knees in front of, begging for forgiveness, and requesting that Fives’ sacrifice be enough. The raw snow molding beneath his cybernetic knee caps is the only thing that cushions and supports the man; a broken shell of someone he once was. A broken shell; a denotation tragically befitting when situated alongside shrapnel of a Republic Cruiser. Littered about, it menacingly encircles the man. The Cruiser becomes a crude background accessory. Everything is broken, cracked, shattered, lifeless... including the bodies bunkering six feet underneath.

Jesse is not here. Rex and Cody are not here. Fives, Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup—the Dominos are not here. Names flash rapidly behind Echo’s eyes, countless brothers all secured in Death’s cold embrace. He was too late. Too late to save them.

Oh, brother.

I hope I’ll see you in another.

You’ve been gone for more than a few.

But know I will always love you.

“I’m sorry,” Echo weeps in the wind and bows his head. His anguished cries and apologies are unworthy offerings, but it’s all he has to give in the land of the dead.

Endless rows of them...

The minute Echo dwells on just how many corpses he’s in the company of, he near forcefully expels bile.

Echo screws his eyes shut. He wonders what his helmet would look like staked in place of Jesse’s, or any of his brothers’. To see himself staring back instead.

Some vode used to say that the helmets have lived a thousand lives before a Clone has lived even one. It’s certainly survived that many, but there’s more to it. The brothers used to claim that the inanimate helmet of plastoid totally embodies the man underneath, taking a life of it’s own even after the trooper passes. Echo had always remained rather neutral on the matter, at least until Fives became the superstitious type.

Until Echo was directly faced with an army of deceased brethren, graves marked solely by their helmets. Until he could feel their deep contempt with every fleeting moment he gazed further into the visor of each. He wondered if their cold blood boiled with hatred for him. For the way no one saved them, for the way no one redeemed their poor unfortunate souls. Did they cry out? Were they fearful? Or were they impassive because that’s what they were programmed to be.

When they were programmed to execute Order: 66.

So many questions. So much guilt. So much pleading. Pleas that fell on deaf ears, for one can’t raise the dead. Many more tears because of.

Echo can only hope his brothers exited this life swiftly and peacefully. He prays to whatever higher power that they experience freedom in their eternal state of rest. That they’re dancing in the cosmos, traipsing along the stars with a euphoric pep. Maybe they’re singing a favorite. Maybe they’re dreaming. Maybe they’re doing both. “Dream A Little Dream Of Me...” A favorite tune.

Fives especially could sing that one beautifully.

The settled snow eventually shifts and dips slightly as a thin man sinks down beside. Crosshair wordlessly slings his arm around Echo. The sniper averts the imitated eyes of the dead men, but the unique patterns of their helmets have already been etched into memory. Tech gingerly sits off to Echo’s right, studying the emotions of the despondent man—not really studying, but watching for a sign; to ensure that it’s okay if he reaches out to comfortingly rest a hand on Echo’s arm. Wrecker is moving from behind to wrap Echo tight and give him a grounding squeeze. Hunter’s breath hitches because for a millisecond, he imagines seeing his baby brothers’ helmets staring back at him and suddenly Hunter can’t breathe.

It’s profound. On the desolate moon, midday turns to dusk even though the skies remain gray. The five men remain huddled together, each one in the same state of reflectiveness as the next. The frigid elements ease up if only somewhat, respectfully lenient in granting the quintet their quiet memorial.

Brothers. That’s what they are. That’s what they remember. One in the same. Same heart, same blood. There’s no such thing as Kaminoans or Cloners. There’s no such thing as ‘Regs’ or ‘Defects’. There’s only brothers. Each man remembers that day: that they were just pawns, never created to be individuals. But each man learns that day: that to still possess their individuality—their very life—is a luxury. It’s worth fighting for. Freedom is worth fighting for. And each man will fight on behalf of the brothers, of the men, who never became acquainted with the prospect before their last directive condemned and reverted them to nothing more than a number.

Numbers? The only numbers relevant are the ones The Bad Batch will do on the Empire. Over and over, and relentlessly. Blow after blow until all one can hear is the sound of Freedom ringing. And ring loud it will.

The day will come, and soon.

The Empire? They’d better watch their backs.

The Cavalry Has Arrived.

~***~

Post-Imperial Proclamation

PIP Rotation Number: 79

Destination: Planet of Unknown Origins

Documentation: Scouting for Relics. Will update with any pertinence.

—Signed by Mar-4

Update: Today I cling to the remains of fallen brethren. For the sake of anonymity, names will not be disclosed. But my heart sings with all of them. It sings, and it weeps. Some days, it will do both, for heavy is the weight. But the graveyard of men is revered; a symbol of strength that our enemies cannot defeat us all. We will prevail, because we are:

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.

Not gone, merely marching far away.

March easy, ner vode.

—Signed by Mar-5. Echo.

#star wars #The Bad Batch #Clone Force 99 #ahh I am a sobbing mess :’D #feedback is always appreciated :)#my writing #it’s a Lil thing

47 notes · View notes

charity-angel · 8 years ago

Text

On Buns and Ovens (2/?)

[Part 1]

[Read on AO3] which I always recommend, especially on mobile, because formatting and cuts. Also, Mando'a translations.

There was a lot that Kix suddenly felt the need to learn: there were entire branches of medicine devoted to the care of pregnant women and their babies, and for the care of children once they were born. And, there was an entire army of people (mostly women) who tended to women during the birthing process itself, which was something that normal doctors, healers, and medics tended to stay well away from. He should probably learn that too, just in case (because they were them, and things rarely went to any kind of rational plan).

He had just started downloading some files on basic obstetrics and midwifery when his peace was invaded by Jesse (typically), carrying Ryll (somewhat less typical).

“Hey, cyar’ika,” Jesse greeted him cheerfully. “Your hibir’ika tried to take on Orar.”

Kix sighed. Ryll always tried to push himself a touch too far because of his little issue, but Orar – a touch more heavily built than most brothers – should have more common sense. He and Jesse were the oldest two members of the 501st and really should know better than to let the younger ones get injured on the ship.

“What’s the damage?”

“It’s a sprain,” Ryll grumbled, gesturing to his right knee. “I could have walked.”

“And I said you shouldn’t,” Jesse said with a smug smile. “Right, Kixy?”

Kix shrugged. “Well, there’s not much sense in causing any further damage that might take longer to heal,” he admitted grudgingly. He hated having to agree with Jesse when he was in one of his obnoxious moods. “We don’t know when we might get diverted to a battle. Set him down on the bed, Jesse.”

“I keep telling him that I just need to rest it,” Ryll grumbled as Jesse set him down.

Kix rolled his eyes and got up. “Probably, but let’s make sure you haven’t done anything more serious.”

.oOo.

Somewhat predictably, Ryll’s diagnosis turned out to be correct. He tried to persuade them both that he was okay; that he would rest in his bunk, but even Jesse kept glancing at the kid’s hands.

Ryll’s unfortunate name came courtesy of an equally unfortunate accident during his first mission on active duty: an accident that had involved him being doused with spice from head to toe, and had left him with permanent side-effects. They weren’t enough to keep him from duty (in Kix’s opinion, and his was the one that mattered), but he did tend to be a little jumpy, and it was obvious when he was tired because his hands started shaking. That in itself was a precursor to sporadic twitching, and Kix generally jabbed him with a sedative before things had a chance to progress from there.

Currently, Ryll’s hands had picked up a tremor that was a pretty good indicator that he needed rest. To anyone except Ryll, who saw it as an affront to his usefulness as a soldier, and a sign that he could be shipped back to Kamino as ‘defective’ at any second.

That would happen over Kix’s dead body, and even if Kix’s dead body happened to be around, General Skywalker and Commander Tano would put up a damn good fight. It was just a shame that Ryll couldn’t ever quite believe it. He pushed himself too hard because of it, in an effort to prove that he was just as good as his brothers.

“You’ll rest right here,” Kix said sternly, “where I can keep an eye on you. You can have a chapter on battlefield drug regimens and why over-stimulation is bad for the body to read up on.”

Given Ryll’s tendency to pull extra med-bay shifts, Kix had cautiously allowed him to study medicine so that he could be helpful in a different way. It was absolutely against the regs, and no-one in the 501st cared.

Jesse sniggered unhelpfully at Kix’s (somewhat pointed) choice of reading material, though.

As Kix was downloading the chapter to a data pad, Rex entered. He was alone, all four limbs intact, and no injuries apparent. He took in the scene without comment, and only the tiniest of expressions to give away that he was less than impressed, but unsurprised.

He jerked his head towards Kix’s office, and stepped inside. Jesse took the hint and left, ruffling Ryll’s fine, straight hair as he went. Kix sighed, handed Ryll the pad, and followed Rex, ensuring that the door was sealed behind him before turning to his friend, who had propped himself against the desk.

“I shouldn’t say,” Kix said in answer to the questioning quirk of Rex’s eyebrows. “Medic/patient confidentiality.”

That earned him an unimpressed look. “She’s not currently your patient, and you don’t actually have a firm diagnosis because you’re half the galaxy away. You’d be speculating, at best.”

Yeah, he had known that excuse wasn’t going to fly with Rex. He also knew that he could trust Rex absolutely.

“I think she’s pregnant.”

There was a moment where Rex looked confused, trying to place the definition of the word. Kix couldn’t blame him: it wasn’t something they had any experience of. The majority of the Kaminoans were clones, as genetically tweaked and perfected as the vod’e themselves. Natural hatchings were rare but permissible since they permitted genetic diversity.

“Yaihadla,” he repeated in Mando’a, which was probably more useful, in context. It was more descriptive, at least.

And it did help: Rex’s eyes widened, just fractionally, before he groaned and rubbed his hand over his blond fuzz.

“And we think Skywalker’s over-protective of Senator Amidala already. Think what he’s going to be like about an ik’aad.”

Kix tried very hard not to think about that again – once had been bad enough. “I’ve got some reading to do – turns out growing a kid is kind of rough on the body. That’s why she’s sick right now. I need to find out how it all works for next time she’s with us. And birth sounds a lot more complicated than decanting: I need to look at that too, because, well…”

“Because we’re us,” Rex finished, wearily. “And, let’s face it, this barely even registers on the ‘weird shit’ scale.”

“Very true.”

There was a moment of silence as they both contemplated how things were going to change, and what they would need to do in order to maintain the happy equilibrium the legion enjoyed. It was broken with:

“Who’s going to get rich from this?”

.oOo.

As it turned out, not many members of the 501st would come into money when word eventually got out: while they all knew about their jetii and his senator, the vast majority had a healthy respect for the senator’s common sense. A baby was something that they wouldn’t have planned on, and Senator Amidala did, Kix knew from her records, have a contraceptive implant. Babies were needy things, and Kix didn’t think that normal people raised their children in huge batches like clones were. Even the jetiise younglings were kept in very small batches, and they weren’t considered to have a ‘normal’ upbringing either. Kix was pretty sure that normal babies were normally raised by their parents: something that neither General Skywalker nor Senator Amidala had time for, given how involved in the war they both were.

It had been painful, glancing through Jesse’s meticulous book, to see Hardcase down as having bet on it (just the thought of it would have amused him, and that made it worth a bet), as well as Waxer (romantic sap). Wolffe and Bly were both going to be very smug. It was odd, seeing brothers from other units on a 501st book: such things were generally kept in-house. The 212th and 501st shared regularly, and battalion commanders kept their own (kept by Cody, because he didn’t otherwise participate), but to have another company’s commander in their book (let alone two) was unusual.

(In fact, there was a notation for ‘GB’, which Kix didn’t recognise at all, and Jesse smugly refused to tell him who it was. It led him neatly to the conclusion that it was General Koon, which was definitely shocking.)

Jesse had found out the secret in short order. Kix really, really needed to learn to sleep at appropriate times and not get so caught up in reading that he fell asleep at his desk. He was lucky that it was only Jesse who found him, and happened to glance at the screen before marking the section and shutting it off.

And he was lucky that despite the fact that Jesse was loud and occasionally irritating and obnoxious, he also knew how to keep his mouth shut when it was important, and he only lost his shit about it when they were alone. (Although he complained loudly in public that Kix wasn’t as light as he had been before he had caught up to the rest of his brothers in size, and maybe he could fall asleep more considerate places, like in his arms, in their bunk? But there was nothing particularly unusual about that.)

Kix supposed that it was sweet that his vod was excited about the little one. It wasn’t something they were never going to be able to have for themselves, and he did love the kids they met throughout the galaxy. They had talked about maybe adopting an orphan or three once everything was over, and they would both love their kids, Kix knew, but it wasn’t the same as the idea having one of their own blood. He had considered that maybe, one day, if they had a compatible female friend who was willing, maybe Jesse could father one, but that was long-distant.

But a little girl, with their eyes and Jesse's brown hair? Kix could dream.

#star wars #Clone Wars #swtcw #tcw #kix #jesse #ryll #padmé's pregnant

6 notes · View notes