#Omicron Class Attack Shuttle

[morphofan]

Found an old bit of wood while putting in a garden bed. Shape immediately looked familiar! 😂

It came out of the ground like this, all I did was clean it a little.

[stellarbit]

my friend and I have a drinking game and one of the things is anytime the frat batch pull a slut pose

drink up girlies

My bae gets his own cover and I think I'm hyperventilating.

[stellarbit]

Two Faces pt 2

Word Count: 12.5k Pairing: fem!reader x Bad Batch, light Tech and Crosshair nods Warnings: SFW, bitch of a mother, crosshairs mood swings, Summary: You arrive back home with Clone Force 99 to prepare to be your senator sister's stand in at an upcoming event. Letting the Batch learn more about who you actually are. Part 1 note: hope y'all like it, thank you all who sent in requests for it and suggestions. I live laugh love for this shit man.

“Ensure our guest arrives safely on her homeworld. Report back once the Gala is at an end.” Lama Su instructed Clone Force 99, his inky gaze shifting to where you stood in line with them at the steps to the Marauder. “You are most welcome here on Kamino. You have an open invitation should you find a need for it.”

Since your sister’s appearance, Lama Su’s demeanor shifted from gritted tolerance to that of a generous host. Time spent at your mother’s side taught you a politician’s patience was rarely forthcoming.

You attempted a practiced smile, the kind drilled into you from birth. “That’s something I will truly keep in mind.” Lama Su bowed his head slightly and dismissed himself, retreating back into the hangar doors.

Left alone, neither you or any of Clone Force 99 budged and a heavy silence settled over the group. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a few heads turn your way. Looking anywhere but directly at them, you piped up, “Ready whenever you are, Sergeant.” Despite Tech’s reassurances that everything had worked out 'better than predicted,' falling back into rhythm with Clone Force 99 was proving more difficult than you had hoped.

Hunter was the first to move. “Alright then, let’s move out.” He turned and you all followed, with you trailing after Crosshair as the last of the group.

Midway up the stairs Crosshair turned and extended a hand to you - an offer of assistance and perhaps a peace offering. A gesture you walked right by. Crosshair retracted his hand and, mostly, kept his frustration in his throat.

They’d told you about their ship, a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle, but being on it was certainly a different experience. The smell alone disenchanted your anticipation. Touches of the different men were strewn throughout. A knocked over stack of history magazines, food wrappers, half used tins of gun oil, and what looked to be sliced up target practice sheets. It was fairly easy to see who left what, but oddly enough there was hardly a trace of Echo.

Tech caught your hesitant inspection and directed you to the passenger seats. “Sit here during take-off.” Tech pointed to a seat equipped with restraints. “Once we make the jump into    hyperspace, it will be safe for you to navigate the ship.” You silently took a seat, pulling the over-the-shoulder restraints into place.

Tech left for the pilot’s seat, Echo already in position as the copilot. Hunter positioned himself in front of a navigational screen, between the cockpit and your seats, while Wrecker and Crosshair accompanied you in the restraint seats. The restraints barely accommodated Wrecker’s size, causing his arms to push into your space as he sat on your left. Across from you, Crosshair stared you down.

In the hours between the confrontation with your sister and packing onboard the Marauder you’d deliberately avoided Crosshair. He, on the other hand, tracked you with that hawkish watch of his and didn’t take his eyes off you.

His watching you, deciphering you, was a part of him processing the shifted dynamics. Much like you trying to piece together how Tech found out your identity, Crosshair ran through your weeks together, over and over, searching for all the clues he’d missed. He searched your face as if the specks on your face would tell him. 

Mostly, he kept counting the scars on your face. One nicked across your nose, likely from his elbow cracking you across the face. Another cut through your eyebrow with a matching one sat on top of your cheekbone. Admitting to himself, it was difficult to discern which of his many blows might have caused these specific marks.

A large part of him actively ignored the thought of what bruises may be hidden beneath your clothes..

He grit his teeth as he watched you continue to pointedly ignore him. He thought bitterly, If you’d just told us from the beginning I wouldn’t have been so severe. Your eyes cut to him with a look as sharp as his. Crosshair narrowed his eyes, a silent challenge between you. Your only response was a twist of your mouth, looking away in disinterest. 

“Care to share what’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” The sneer in Crosshair’s voice had you closing your eyes, summoning your remaining patience. “Or do you want to keep us all in the dark?”

You rolled out your jaw, nodding through a deep breath. Settling on the sorriest excuse for a smile, you responded, “It must be difficult to never know when to shove off.” Your words elicited a low growl from the sniper, adding genuine enjoyment to your expression. 

Wrecker sat still, gripping his ill fit restraints and keeping his good eye on you with a sideways look. Unlike his brother, Wrecker had made no attempts to push you up to that point. While roughing up a reg during training was standard for him, realizing it had been you all along left him uneasy. The memory of how you had fought against his grip when he had you by the throat now churned his stomach.

The entire vessel shifted and blue light cascaded through the ship. “We’ve made the jump into hyperspace.” Echo announced from the cockpit.

Crosshair shoved himself free of the restraints and stalked off for the front of the ship. You attempted to follow suit, but your restraints didn’t release as smoothly.

Frustration got the better of you and you rammed your hands twice into the bars before Wrecker gently released the safety device. He crouched down to your eye level, anxiety pulling at him. “Listen, I didn’t know it was you under that armor.” He shook his head lightly. “And I’d do it again with any reg… But I-I’m sorry it was you.” Wrecker’s eyes searched the floor for something else to say.

His expression tugged at your heart just enough for you to cave. “Wrecker,” you leaned forward and touched his shoulder. “I’m not mad with you, you couldn’t have known and, honestly, would be weirder if you had.” Wrecker kept his gaze averted, guilt still eating him.

“I take offense to that.” Tech chimed as he walked over.

Ignoring him, you gently turned Wrecker’s face to you. “The only reason I’m upset is that you would ever think this was a game to me.”

His eyes went wide and his head snapped back. “No, no! I never said that!”

“Then why lie and play soldier?” Crosshair said simultaneously from his seat next to Hunter. Crosshair placed a toothpick in his mouth and reclined.

“Crosshair, stow it!” Wrecker snapped, pivoting on the balls of his feet. “You’re just making it worse.”

 You truly believed that coming from anyone else, the question might not have stung so sharply. But coming from Crosshair, it made you want to scream.

“You know what?” You took a deep breath and stood, gently nudging Wrecker aside. As you exhaled, you clapped your hands together, your attempt to stay calm crumbling as your voice escalated to a yell. “I’m sorry. I am. I am sorry for going along with your mix-up!” 

Crosshair grit his teeth and tensed in his chair, a snake ready to strike.

Puffing your chest out, you thrust a finger at him, “I wasn’t playing soldier. I want to join my sister’s guard, so my mother sent me to train. If no one knew I was here and I got the training, I was going to do just that.” You groaned at the thought. The edge in your voice ebbed as you lamented, “Letting you think I was my sister seemed like an easy alibi. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I’d do it again if I had to.”

The topic begged the question, what will happen now that they know?

Tech, not fully grasping the situation, interjected, “Requiring you to mask your presence suggests this wasn’t a decision she was happy with.”

That was not a road you wanted to go down with them. Waving the comment aside with a flippant hand you replied. “She had a different plan for my life. This was just her making sure I knew what I was getting into.” You were surprised at how convincing your tone sounded.

Hunter turned away from the navigational screen, leaning back with a foot propped up on his knee, clearly skeptical. “She had to have known you’d get the kriff kicked out of you with us—or worse. Why not just send you to train with your sister’s guard?

Your chest tightened at the question. “Mother only wants what’s best,” you lied smoothly. Gesturing towards them all, you added in a lighter tone, “Besides, why train with guards when I can learn from the elite?”

Leaning against the back of Hunter’s chair, Echo looked incredulous. “Have you ever even stepped foot in a training facility before?”

You hummed an affirmative, holding your breath, but with the eyes of unconvinced soldiers on you, you quickly exhaled and admitted, “No.”

“In that case,” Tech said, pointing a finger at you. “I’m impressed you managed to only get your nose broken once.”

“We broke your nose?” Hunter sat upright suddenly, surprise in his voice. You resisted the urge to touch your nose or glance at Crosshair.

“I chose this,” you stated firmly, pressing a hand to your chest. “I had chances to back out, and I came anyway. I’d rather you treat me like the clone you thought I was than look at me with pity.” You gestured towards Hunter, whose face was an odd mix of pity and concern. “Honestly, I’d prefer that,” you added, nodding towards Crosshair.

You had hoped the small gesture would serve as your own olive branch, but a glance at Crosshair told you it hadn’t worked. He maintained a tight-lipped frown, his expression stubbornly aggravated. The standoff between you two lingered until you took a step towards him, and he rose from his chair, meeting you halfway with a defiant stance.

“What more could you possibly want from me?” you demanded, hands flaring palms up. There was a raw satisfaction in shedding the veil of polite politics and expressing your true feelings. Voicing your frustration felt liberating, like stretching long-dormant muscles.

Crosshair tilted his head down to meet your gaze, the toothpick rolling to one corner of his mouth. His voice was low and steady, “You attacked me.”

Fury surged through you as you snatched the toothpick from his lips. “Attacked you?” you nearly shouted, incredulous.

Leaning in, Crosshair scrutinized your seething expression, face flushed and fists clenched. Then, unexpectedly, a barely there smile cracked his scowl. Now he was just having fun.

“Crosshair.” Hunter warned as he slowly started to rise. 

“You heard me,” Crosshair retorted swiftly, emphasizing each word, “You. Attacked. Me.”

Echo was too slow to intervene as you grabbed the lip of Crosshair’s chestplate. He snorted dismissively, and you were consumed by a silent, burning rage. Something primal snapped within you, and without words, only a fierce growl escaped you as you lunged at Crosshair, hands driven by pent-up anger.

Crosshair began to laugh, a mocking, bitter sound that only fueled your rage as Hunter grabbed him and pulled him back. Echo swiftly moved between you two, his arms outstretched to create a barrier. Your fingers slipped from Crosshair’s armor as you reached desperately past Echo, trying to get at the sniper.

Hunter, his frustration evident, shoved Crosshair further away and then spun around, pointing a finger sharply at you He then turned to address both of you, his voice raised over the commotion. “How many times do we have to break you two up?” His tone was stern, a mix of reprimand and exasperation reflecting the strain of repeatedly managing your confrontations.

As Hunter pushed Crosshair further away, Crosshair shot back a snarky, taunting remark. "If she could keep her hands to herself, we wouldn't need breaking up."

With a low growl, you threw the toothpick still clutched in your hand, watching it strike Crosshair squarely in the face. It was a minor victory, but seeing his annoyance flare was satisfying. Stepping back slightly, no longer trying to shove past Echo, you fixed Crosshair with a taunting smirk. “Ah, so that’s what’s bothering you. This is the first time a woman’s touched you without a medkit.”

Hunter, witnessing the petty exchange, rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Enough!" he barked, hand chopping in front of him. "We’re on a mission, and I need you two to not kill each other. If I have to keep you separated until we reach our destination, I will."

Notching his hand at his hip, Hunter sighed. Looking at you he shook his head. “Well, you certainly don’t act like a Senator.” Amusement lifted the tattooed side of his mouth.

“Or a soldier,” Crosshair added sharply, slipping another toothpick into his mouth. He watched you a second longer before giving a light scoff, “But good to know our little kitten has grown claws.”

‘Little kitten’ heated your face but Echo guided you away before you could take the bait. “If you haven’t stepped foot in a training facility,” he said, ushering you towards the front of the ship. “What about the cockpit of an attack shuttle?”

And with that you were distracted, allowing for the rest of the journey to pass in relative peace. Aided largely by the fact that you and Crosshair now had a ship and four soldiers between you. 

As the ship began its descent, Tech started detailing the time differences and adjusting for the local standard. Wrecker, seated beside you, yelled, “Yeah, yeah, we can tell it’s late.”

“Or really early,” you quipped, nudging him playfully. Truly, you hadn’t kept track. It turned out to be late into the evening.

Echo and Crosshair had swapped seats, positioning Crosshair in the copilot's seat and further from you. Sitting across from you, Echo leaned forward slightly, curiously asking, “Who do you think is receiving you?”

“Receiving me?” You parroted in confusion.

Wrecker nudged you playfully, flashing a grin. “Yeah! Who’s waiting for ya at the platform?”

Your eyebrows shot up as you glanced down, realizing you hadn't considered this. Normally, no one 'received' you unless your sister was visiting home. You managed a smile, easing into the conversation. “That’s not really a tradition of ours.”

“That’s odd,” Tech said, extending his neck out and raising his voice to ensure you heard him. “I read that the planet’s governor, that is your mother, is well known for her welcoming of distinguished guests.”

“Well, I’m not a guest,” you responded sharply, a hint of bitterness in your voice. With a forced laugh and a casual flip of your hand, you added to cover your misstep, “That is, I’m not just a guest, I’m family.”

As the ship landed and the restraints remained locked in place, Crosshair spoke for the first time in hours. “Looks like you’re wrong about that.” His tone made you strain against your restraining bars in attempts to see outside.

You were unable to see anything but the sky view of the hangar. But you were sure of it, if anyone was there it was your sister. The thought flipped your stomach.

As soon as the restraints unlocked—and Wrecker helped free you—you dashed for the exit. Crosshair was at the mouth of the exit when you pushed past him, hurrying down the stairs. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you spun around, searching for a familiar face, but your sister was nowhere to be seen.

As you were about to have words with Crosshair, your attention snagged on the sight of three clone troopers walking around the ship. Approaching you were two unmarked clones flanking a Clone Captain distinguished by teal blue markings.

CT-7569, the Captain assigned to your planet. The clone presence was meant to be a show of good faith by the Republic, but your mother treated them as ornamental. They ‘maintained peace’ by bolstering your mother’s security and accompanying important trade vessels. CT-7569 usually escorted your mother - you found it made her presence more tolerable. In the end, you and the Captain spent many mindless political gatherings in each other’s company.

As the Captain approached, you wracked your brain trying to recall the name he went by. Embarrassment set in as you realized you might never have known his name, despite having memorized his designation number long ago.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you stepped forward with a genuine smile. “Captain,” you greeted warmly.

“Good to see you back, Miss,” the Captain replied as he halted a few feet away, his men positioning themselves to his sides. His helmet shifted slightly, his gaze drifting past you. “I was wondering if you’d return. I hardly believed it when they said you went to Kamino.”

You edged closer, lowering your voice to a hiss. “How do you know about that?”

“You left with the Governor and Senator, but only they returned. Seeing as how that flight log only showed a trip to Kamino… well it wasn’t hard to figure out.” He chuckled, the sound echoing slightly inside his helmet as he reached up to remove it. The familiar features of the Captain started showing, all wrinkled by an amused smile. “So, how’d that conversation go?” he asked, referring to your discussion with your mother about your plans. His gaze then darted past you, doing a double-take. “Wait—is that the Bad Batch?”

You gave an empty blink. “The what now?” A smile wobbled your lips. They certainly never mentioned that.

CT-7569 nodded, letting out an impressed laugh. “Experimental Unit 99. They call themselves the Bad Batch.” His eyes held a touch of shock before he shifted to a questioning look at you. “This is definitely a story I want to hear.”

“Captain,” Hunter greeted, stepping up beside you with Echo on his other side, while Tech positioned himself next to you. Wrecker and Crosshair presumably took places behind you, maintaining their distance. They all kept their helmets on, reminding you of the edge ‘regs’ put them on.

CT-7569 straightened up, his accompanying clones mimicking his posture, and he replaced his helmet. “I’ve heard good things about your squad, Sergeant. Good to meet you, men.” He extended a hand to Hunter, and they clasped each other’s forearms in a soldierly greeting.

“Thank you, sir.” Hunter nodded

As the Captain and Hunter exchanged pleasantries, you desperately thought back for the Captain’s name. You had faint recollections of hearing it in passing or his men occasionally dropping formalities. Those snippets were vague but persistent, hinting you were just a syllable away from full recognition.

The Captain looked back to you and the name clicked in place. He began telling you something, but your thoughts were far from his voice. Instead you were lost in the thought of having treated the clone before you, a soldier who offered you kindness when that was beyond the scope of his mission, as just a nameless soldier. You were always polite and grateful for their support and the respect you had for clones inspired you to protect your sister, but you’d rarely thought of who they were beyond soldiers.

And with him, you were practically friends.

“Miss?” The Captain’s voice finally reeled you back in. When he saw your focus return he said, “The Governor gave no orders for your arrival, but we can take the men to our barracks wing to settle in.” Pivoting to his men, he began giving orders to escort Clone Force 99. 

You quickly cut in.

“Howzer,” The name immediately silenced him. He seemed caught off by the sound of his name on your tongue.  “There is plenty of room in my wing. I’ll show them up.” 

He opened his mouth to respond, but you pressed on, “The Governor didn’t issue orders because their mission requires discretion. An empty wing is more suitable than a barrack on full display.” You’d taken some liberties speaking for your mother, but he didn’t need to know that. Instead you added, “Which reminds me, why are you here if she gave no orders.”

Howzer chuckled warmly. "I spotted an inbound ship from Kamino on the flight manifest this afternoon. I figured it was you and couldn’t resist the chance to see you limping off of a ship.” The sentiment made you laugh. He added, nodding his head, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“She held her own,” Hunter came up beside you with a hand on your shoulder. “Even got the better of one of us once.”

“Twice.” You quickly corrected, earning a disgruntled noise from the sniper behind you. The curious tilt in Howzer’s helmet, from behind you and back, made you smile.

“Well then,” Howzer relaxed, a smile in his voice. “We’ll leave you to it. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned to depart, but you reached out and grasped his arm to stop him. He looked from your hand to your face.

“Thank you, Howzer,” you said earnestly, sliding your hand down to his and giving it a warm squeeze. “For being my friend.”

His helmet shifted back slightly, caught off guard once more. After a brief pause, he nodded and returned the squeeze gently. “No need to thank me,” he responded lightly.  “Just a perk of the job,” he addressed you by name and you could have heard the wink in his voice. You realize he might have never said it before. Howzer turned away with his squad following. As they walked off, one of the troopers elbowed him lightly, only to receive an aggressive shove in return. 

“I think I might be sick.” Crosshair murmured from behind you.

You snorted, looking over your shoulder at him. “Feeling queasy, huh? Maybe it’s just your batch going bad,” you teased, giving a playful nod to the nickname you had just learned. Crosshair groaned and Echo coughed to hide a laugh. Bad joke.

“Oh, c’mon.” You gestured for them to follow. “Let’s get to bed.”

Your family home was an architectural marvel built into the side of a mountain, its expansive windows offering a panoramic view of your planet’s capital city below. The residence had been in your family for generations, serving not just as a home but as a political hub, given your family's long history of public service. Though not every generation produced a Governor, there always seemed to be someone who utilized the sprawling estate as a political stage. Under your mother and sister’s tenure, it had practically transformed into an embassy.

Nestled on the quieter, mountain-facing side of the house were your private quarters. Your room, located at the end of a secluded corridor, offered a reprieve from the politics of the main halls. The other two rooms along your corridor remained mostly unoccupied, reserved for the occasional guest, a benefit of your mother's preference to keep you out of the public eye.

You paused at the door next to yours, explaining the solitude of your hall. Extending a hand towards the spare room, you said, “Either room can accommodate your squad, but feel free to use one or both.”

The group exchanged looks, weighing their options. Echo mumbled something about needing a break from the usual barracks scent, but ultimately, they decided to stick together. Their loyalty to one another reminded you of the times your sister would stealthily retreat to your room during her political campaigns. On especially tough days, she would stay the night, and in the early, dark hours of the morning, you would both slip away to the nearby hot springs.

The memory used to be a safe haven for you. Now it left you feeling oddly cold.

After bidding the boys goodnight, you retreated to your room. Setting aside a bag for the morning, you prepared for a much-needed early soak in the warm springs.

Waking well before dawn, you were eager for the comforting waters. From the back of your closet, you retrieved an old rope ladder with patches of fabric woven into it—evidence of years of repairs. Hardly necessary now, the ladder had been a crucial part of your escapades during your younger years, when you were more tightly bound by your mother’s expectations.

Your room opened onto a quaint veranda, bordered by sturdy stone balusters. This railing, carved from the mountain itself, served as your usual escape route.

As you’d done numerous times, you tied the rope off and unfurled it over the ledge of the terrace. Peering down, you were reassured to see the ladder hanging just a few feet above the   ground. Despite the 100-foot drop, a few firm tugs on the knots confirmed it was secure. Bag slung over your shoulder, you straddled the railing, preparing to make your descent.

“That would not be advisable.”

The unexpected voice sent a jolt through you, your arms instinctively gripping the railing to prevent a startled fall. Pressing your face against the cold stone, you scanned for the source of the interruption.

The veranda wrapped around the building, with each room opening onto its own curved section. There, leaning casually against the railing of the adjacent balcony, were Tech and Hunter. Hunter rested his elbows on the railing, a cup of caf hanging between his hands, while Tech leaned his hip against the railing, also sipping his drink. Both were wearing a set of black casual clothes, a long sleeve shirt and pants. It was Tech who had called out to you.

Tech adjusted his goggles, scrutinizing the rope ladder with a critical eye. After a moment, he relaxed slightly and nodded to himself. “The multiple repairs, along with the current condition of the rope, significantly compromise its integrity. If you attempt to climb down, the likelihood of the rope failing is high. You would fall from approximately,” he paused, his gaze measuring the drop, “68 feet.”

“You don’t know that,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you climbed back onto the safety of the veranda.

“Care to test that theory?” Tech retorted, an amused challenge in his tone, though he already knew your answer.

Instead of responding, you walked over to the stone wall divider, where vines clung and crawled up its surface. Grabbing one, you used it for leverage to hoist yourself onto the railing and then climbed along the railing to their side of the veranda.

Hunter, witnessing the muscle memory in your movements, took a leisurely sip of his caf. "Does that come from having a sister too?" he commented dryly, watching as you landed beside them.

You snorted, “More from young rebellious years.” Glancing around, you noticed the absence of the other men

“Still asleep.” Hunter answered your search, gesturing a thumb over his shoulder. Hunter stood to face you, half sitting on the railing and looking you over with a raised brow. “What exactly were you doing?”

You nodded towards the treeline and the forest beyond. “There’s a hot spring not too far up the mountain.” Tech set his cup on the stone handrail and pulled out his datapad, tapping a few buttons as you continued, “My sister and I used to sneak out from time to time for a dip.”

Tech, always the analyst, chimed in, “I am picking up a heat signature a kilometer out.” He pivoted, scanning in other directions. “This mountain must have volcanic properties to create such a natural phenomenon.”

Impressed, you hummed in agreement. “You’re not wrong—”

“I seldom am,” Tech interjected, still focused on his device.

“—the mountain was once a volcano,” you finished, matching his flat tone.

Tech, now fully absorbed in geological data, murmured, “Fascinating how such places become sanctuaries over time.”

Hunter half-sat on the railing as he watched the sky beginning to lighten. Following his line of sight, you asked, “Are you two always the first ones up?”

“We’re terrible sleepers,” Hunter replied, throwing a knowing glance at Tech. “Tech’s brain doesn’t have an off switch.”

Tech rolled his eyes as he switched from his datapad to the device on his forearm. "And his heightened senses make him easy to disturb," he explained, tapping a few buttons before squinting at the screen. "So, yes, to answer your question—Hunter and I are usually awake before the others."

You heard Crosshair before you saw him. “Not for long with your prattling.” Crosshair appeared, pushing through a fabric curtain. Despite the dim morning light, he squinted as he joined you outside, his gaze shifting between you as if searching for an unsaid clue. Finally his eyes looked you over and he sucked on a tooth, asking, “Here with our orders so soon?” You didn’t miss the lighter tone in his voice. He was joking with you.

Well that’s a good step.

The early hour dampened your mood for bickering, so you forced a smile instead of biting back. “You are as lovely in the mornings as I’ve dreamt.” you quipped, immediately regretting your choice of words by the look he shot you, avoiding his smirk by pretending to brush dirt off of your sleeve. “On the note though, we can expect a droid with our instructions sometime-”

“Mistress?!” A panicked,metallic female voice echoed from your quarters. 

“Now, apparently,” you huffed, impressed yet annoyed by the droid’s timing. “Just a second, 9-E!” you called back to the protocol droid now audibly clattering through your rooms. The three men barely had a moment to react before you turned back to the ivy-covered wall. “Another reason to be glad you stopped me,” you tossed over your shoulder as you climbed.

By the end of the next hour, your family’s silver protocol droid was leading you and the Batch to your mother’s salon. It was the room she formally received visitors in and her typical venue for confrontation. You were particularly worried about the latter category.

“9-E,” you said, holding the droid back by the shoulder just before reaching the salon's doors. The droid swiveled its head to face you, and you gave its shoulder a reassuring pat. “I need to speak with my mother alone. You can come by afterwards, okay?”

The droid seemed to fuss for a moment but ultimately nodded, its voice a mix of concern and programmed calm. “Try not to provoke her this time, Young Mistress. She is in good spirits this morning,” it advised before waddling away. 9-E had been a loyal fixture in your life, often acting as a stand-in nanny. You respected its reverence for your mother, which is why you spared it from witnessing the more challenging family moments.

“What exactly are we walking into?” Hunter mumbled to you.

“Nothing to worry about.” You reassured, but you had a feeling your face didn’t match your tone.

Pushing open the heavy salon doors, you stepped into a room bathed in morning light, offering a panoramic view of the capital. The salon was meticulously arranged with luxurious decor that spoke of your family’s political heritage. At the far end, your mother, the Governor, stood two steps up by a large window, her silhouette framed against the cityscape.

The tall woman stood in a deep purple dress with an overcoat of similar color, all with golden embroidery. Her eyes combed the lot of you as you approached, her expression undeniably cold. There were no witnesses present so there was no show to put on.

In fact, the lack of guards or attendants did not bode well for the conversation.

You paused at the base of the steps leading up to where she stood, the rest of Clone Force 99 arrayed slightly behind. They all stood firm with their helmets tucked under their arms.

“Good job on the prompt return,” she said, cold yet perfectly polite, as if she were addressing a droid rather than her daughter.

“I would never keep you waiting,” you responded, maintaining the formal veneer.

Her lips twitched in what might have been a smile on a more congenial face but came off as a grimace. “You’ve already done so,” she said crisply. “Come here.”

Not wanting to further prove her point, you immediately ascended the steps. She reached out abruptly, her fingers clamping around your chin with a firmness that bordered on painful. Slowly, she moved your face side to side examining the marks, some still pink, on your face. Her lip curled. “The only thing you had going for you,” she murmured disdainfully, releasing your face with a sharp flick of her wrist.

Turning her gaze on the men assembled a step below, she gestured towards you without looking back. “Surely, the Prime Minister instructed you not to coddle her.”

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech exchanged uncertain glances. From where they stood, it did not look like they coddled you. Crosshair and Echo kept their eyes on your mother. One was coiled for her next move while the other knew better than to take his eyes off an unpredictable politician.

Hunter didn’t recall Lama Su giving that directive and he didn’t have the political finesse to know what answer your mother wanted to hear. His eyes slid to you once more, before answering with cautious formality. “We trained her as rigorously as any member of the Republic's forces, Governor.”

Your mother's attention drifted downward contemplatively before returning to you with a subtle nod. Waving a hand at you, she managed a disappointed smile as she addressed Clone Force 99. “And that is all an elite clone force is capable of?” She held up a finger, considering something for a moment. Without further comment, she moved gracefully around to your back.

Her hands felt cold and foreign, you barely resisted the urge to lean out of her probing touch. With pressure she slid her hands over your shoulders and down your back, probing for vulnerabilities. Occasionally her hand grazed a bruise, at which you tensed but didn’t react further. Then, her fingers found their mark—just behind your shoulder, a spot still tender from Crosshair drilling into you.

As the pain sharply cut through your muscle, you instinctively jerked forward. Your mother's firm grip on your shoulder kept you in place as she pressed harder into the tender spot. The discomfort escalated until a grunt of pain escaped you, at which point she finally eased up. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement among the clones.

"There we are," she crooned, her voice chillingly soft as she pushed you toward the troopers. "My apologies for questioning your efficacy."

You hardly stumbled, but cleared your throat against the still present ache in your shoulder. Straightening out, you kept your eyes averted. You’d withstood your mother’s treatment your entire life. You let yourself believe it served a purpose. Whether it was to raise you to her standards or simply to prove her point. This felt different. Humiliating you served no purpose at this moment. After a lifetime of this, you thought, perhaps it’s just what you deserved. 

Finally, you looked at Clone Force 99 thinking you’d find them at attention, trained into stoicism. Instead, they no longer stood in line. 

Crosshair was further out than the others, mid-step, nearly mid-bite and restrained only by Wrecker's firm grip on his shoulder. Wrecker himself stood uncharacteristically still, his usual demeanor replaced by seriousness. Wrecker was holding Crosshair back, but you’d be forgiven to think he was urging his brother on. Beside him, Hunter and Echo mirrored each other’s posture, frowning with fists clenched at their sides, looking like they were about to snap. At the end of the line, Tech maintained the most composed state, though a slight frown tugged at his features as he held a finger to the light on his goggles.

Theirs was more of a reaction than most who had witnessed a glimpse of your mother. These men barely knew you and they didn’t think you deserved this.

They didn’t deserve to see this.

You offered a smile to the men who barely knew you. None of them moved as you tucked your hands behind your back and faced your mother. 

She didn’t bother meeting your gaze, rolling her eyes away as to not entertain whatever confidence struck you. “The Gala is tomorrow evening, you will be briefed later.” Later, her always had a vague way of leaving you waiting. “Make yourselves scarce until then.” She waved you off, turning to face the cityscape again as if you and the situation at hand were little more than a minor inconvenience in her day. 

You gave a respectful bow and swiftly made for the door. Without hesitating, you passed directly between the members of Clone Force 99, not waiting to see if they offered any form of courtesy to your mother before following you.

You all stayed silent until you made it back into the corridor.

“Now you see the reason for the rope ladder.” You said lightly as you led them away.

Echo quickened his step to match yours, a look of concern - if not anger - on his face. “What happened there? That woman is your mother?” He gestured incredulously back towards the salon, shaking his head “She’s... she’s cruel.”

“Always has been.” you replied with a shrug, not bothering to hide your truth anymore. “I’m just sorry you saw it.”

“Someone like that shouldn’t be leading people.” Echo asserted.

You didn’t stop walking, but managed to side eye Echo. “She’s not like that with others.” That answer didn’t calm the cyborg.

Tech chimed in from behind, his datapad beeping softly. “It’s surprising she hasn’t been exposed on the Holonet with that kind of behavior.”

“You’ll understand once you see her tomorrow. There’s no surprise in it.” you scoffed, leading them further away from the scene.

The group murmured amongst themselves, clearly troubled by the encounter. Wanting to shift their focus from your mother, you planned to seize the opportunity presented by the early morning chill in the air.

As you approached your rooms, you spun around, effectively blocking their access to their quarters with a playful stance. They all looked so somber.

“Enough of that.” You said sternly, but there was a lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in ages. They remained in similar shades of uncertainty. 

The absurdity of it all hit you —the idea that your mother, with just a small show of herself, could unsettle a group of battle-hardened soldiers. These men faced deadly threats without flinching, yet here they were, shaken by the woman who raised you. The stark contrast between their usual bravado and their current discomfort was ridiculous, really.

Laughter burst from you, resonant and unrestrained, filling the stone corridor. Echo muttered something to Hunter that you didn’t catch, but it only fueled your amusement further. Your sides began to ache, pulling at a tender bruise, yet you continued to chuckle through the discomfort. For a moment, you thought you’d never be able to stop.

Wrecker’s brows were the first to lift as he surveyed his brothers’ reactions. You covered your mouth with your hand, another laugh threatening to bubble out. Crosshair and Tech shared a look of confusion and evident disturbance. The sight of Tech’s furrowed brow and slightly open mouth pushed you over the edge again.

As the last waves of humor receded, you clutched your sides, threw your head back, and expelled one final, drawn-out sigh. A lazy smile spread across your face as you met their gazes once more. Shaking your head, you teased, “You face droid armies and risk your lives every day.” You gestured dismissively towards the direction of your mother’s salon. “And one measly Governor ruffles your feathers?”

A short pause passed and Tech said in a flat tone, “I think I am glad to not have had a mother.” Echo groaned, covering his eyes with his hand, but you found the sentiment funny.

To shake the residual tension, you sighed, “Listen, I really don’t want to dwell on her right now. Instead…” You slid back a few steps, nodding over your shoulder with an adventurous glint. “Come with me to the hot springs?”

Wrecker perked up first. "The hot springs?" His interest was evident as he shared a smile with his brothers, but Hunter remained reserved, arms crossed, his expression tight.

"They're worth the hike," you coaxed, waving them to follow. "It's not far, and it's the perfect way to unwind."

Hunter's brow furrowed as he considered the risks. "We don’t know when the Governor might call us back. It's best not to stray too far," he advised pragmatically. With a heavy sigh, he added, "I'll stay back, keep watch for any messages."

"Same here," Echo interjected, raising his scomp-link arm slightly. "Besides, long soaks really aren't my thing anymore."

You looked hopefully at the remaining three. Wrecker pumped his fist in the air, clearly eager. Surprisingly, Crosshair, despite his sour look, gave a shrug. "I’m in," he said, placing a toothpick bobbing between his lips.

Tech pulled his datapad out, but gave a quick wave. “I will join as well. I'm curious about the natural phenomenon." He paused, pointing a finger at you. "However, we're definitely not using your ladder."

That comment drew a wary look from Wrecker. "Ladder?" he asked.

Which made sense once the lot of you stood at your veranda’s railing. Tech and Crosshair were down to their blacks, the closest You’d just finished pulling up your ladder when Wrecker stepped back. “On second thought, you guys go ahead. I’ll stay here.” He said uneasily.

You spun on him. “What?!” 

Hunter clapped him on the shoulder, chuckling. "Come on, Wrecker, it's not that high."

Tech stepped up beside you to peek over the railing. “That’s about 20 feet too high for his comfort,” he clarified, diagnosing Wrecker’s hesitation. “He's not great with heights.

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck, his discomfort apparent. “Yeah, I’ll pass this time,” he admitted, resigning himself.

“Alright,” Echo interjected, heading back inside. "Let’s go find some food then," he suggested, inviting Wrecker to join him in a more comfortable pursuit.

Hunter pushed off from his spot leaning against the railing. “You three have fun, but don’t be too long.” He followed after Echo and Wrecker, pausing at the doorway to your quarters to sigh, “Just don’t kill each other.”

The annoyed sound Crosshair usually made at such comments didn’t come. Looking as bored as ever, Crosshair was busy scoping out the ground below. His lack of response felt underwhelming. He passed a cool look at you before silently grabbing for the bag he and Tech brought. From it he pulled a grappling hook and a descent device.

Tossing the device at Tech, Crosshair tossed the bag over his shoulder. “I’m going down first.” He pointed a finger at Tech. “You get to carry her down.”

The three of you ventured to the hot springs, Crosshair notably silent for the duration of the journey. Once there, Tech immediately scoped the surrounding area. The hot springs were a true miracle of the mountain. Nestled at the bottom of a hollow, a handful of pools steamed off into the branching hanging above. The pools were all interconnected, hot water bubbling between them and lapping against the smooth stones lining their boundaries.

This quiet nook, forgotten by all but you, was your sanctuary. The cloud forest and warm waters felt like a personal sacrament, and sharing them with someone, especially Tech with his eager fascination, filled you with a sense of happiness. A feeling that quickly vanished upon looking at Crosshair. The residual smile fell from your face. He wasn’t looking at you but his face was one of disinterest.

The spectrum of Crosshair you’d witnessed over the course of a few days made you realize how little you truly knew the men of Clone Force 99. You’d expected their reaction in various shades of Tech’s reaction. Annoyance and skepticism you’d prepared for, not this sudden coldness.

Only a few hours prior he’d seemed at least cordial for the first time since learning the truth. Now, he seemed unable to even look at you.

 When it came time to shed your outerwear, Crosshair’s reaction was sharp. A sweeping look of you sent distaste across his features, and he turned away, leaving abruptly. Tech dismissed it as just another example of Crosshair’s stubborn nature, but to you, it felt deeply personal.

You checked yourself before entering the waters. Outside of a few bruises he would’ve known about, there was nothing scandalous about your bathing suit.

Moving from his perch at the edge of the pool, Tech dipped into the waters next to you. He shook his head, gesturing to where Crosshair had stood. “Problem?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, determined not to let Crosshair's attitude dampen the moment. Leaning back against the warm rocks, you turned towards Tech, who was now unguarded and bare in the water. “Perhaps one,” you said with a light tone, your eyes inadvertently scanning his exposed skin.

Your eyes roved Tech’s bare upper body, thankful for your already present flush from the springs. As Tech lifted his goggles to defog them, you peek beneath the water's surface and your face heated at the realization that he was completely nude. Once his goggles were back in place, he caught your gaze. “And what would that be?”

“You are naked,” you pointed out, an amused undertone in your voice.

Without missing a beat, Tech replied, “And your clothes are transparent.” His response made you snap your attention to your own attire. To your horror, Tech was right - the wet fabric had gone see-through.

Tech glanced down at himself, seemingly puzzled, then shrugged. “As I have never partaken in such recreation before, I merely followed your example” The bubbling waters filled the brief silence that followed. Tech’s gaze flicked from your chest back to your eyes, his expression marked by genuine confusion. “What is the issue?” he asked.

Not even a shadow of understanding graced his face, he was devoid of any of your engrained reservations. It occurred to you that perhaps the social nuances of nudity were lost on clones. What use would trivial embarrassment serve for soldiers?

Tech’s gaze dropped to your chest again, but you saw nothing lewd in his attention. In place of the lechery you’d expect, his expression only held curiosity - as if your skin could tell him what you weren’t. Here was Tech, a battle seasoned soldier, sharing a moment of innocence with you free of the judgmental social expectations you were trained to abide by. The realization took away the anxiety you felt.

Chuckling, you managed to speak through your amusement, “They’re not supposed to be transparent, you know.” Your humor softened into a warm smile as you observed Tech’s puzzled expression. “It’s generally good practice to wear something a bit more... substantial when you’re swimming.” You waved a hand over your transparent clothing. Winking at him you added, “Or at least when you're in mixed company.”

Tech absorbed this information, his head tilting slightly as if filing away a new data point. “Ah, social norms?” he queried, more intrigued by the learning opportunity than embarrassed by his faux pas.

“Yes, exactly,” you agreed, your smile lingering. “But honestly, don’t worry about it. It’s just us here, and it’s actually quite refreshing to just relax about it.” You appreciated his unguarded state, a rare departure from his usual precision.

Nodding in understanding, Tech’s slight smile suggested he was becoming more comfortable with the situation. Adjusting his goggles he cleared his voice. “I will take note,” he responded, his voice carrying a hint of amusement now joining yours. A hue of pink came to his complexion - whether it was due to the warm waters or the new information you weren’t sure.

You watched him for a moment, the scientist in him always observing, always analyzing. It was endearing and made him all the more fascinating.

 “Speaking of relaxing,” you said cautiously, curious about his thoughts beyond his duties. “Have you ever thought about what you’d like to do when the war is over?”

Tech paused, his gaze drifting off across the steamy water. “I haven’t given it much thought,” he admitted slowly. “There always seems to be another mission, another objective. But, I suppose...” his voice trailed off as he considered the question more seriously.

“An adventurer, maybe?” you suggested playfully, watching his reaction.

Tech looked at you, surprise registering on his face before it softened into contemplative curiosity. “An adventurer,” he repeated, rolling the idea around in his mind. His smile reappeared. “Exploring new planets, studying uncharted ecosystems without a firefight waiting around the corner—that does sound appealing.”

Your conversation drifted into a comfortable silence you both relaxed into. Eventually Tech announced it was time and you got to work heading back. You gave yourself plenty of credit for keeping your eyes above Tech’s waist as you gathered yourselves. Enough credit to indulge yourself in fully devouring the sight of him in his blacks as he led the way back to the grappling line.

Tech tugged his damp blacks into more comfortable angles before crouching in front of you, offering to carry you as he had on the way down. The first time you’d protested, this time you gladly climbed on board.

Securing your arms around his neck you chuckled, “And this really isn’t heavy for you?”

Tech scoffed, bouncing you into position as he stood. “You should not be surprised. After Wrecker, I am the strongest of my brothers.” Your brows raised at his use of ‘brothers’ as well as the fact of his strength. “Any concern is unwarranted, I am more than capable of carrying you.”

Your reply came in securing your still damp hold on him and that was enough for Tech to launch you both towards your veranda above. 

Showcasing his tactical skills, Tech expertly got you up and over the railing without so much breaking a sweat. 

"You were right," you exhaled, releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding as Tech helped you down from his back. Laughing lightly, you admitted, "You were right to carry me." Referring to your initial push to rappel on your own.

Tech straightened to roll out his shoulders. "I would get used to it if I were you," he remarked, a playful edge to his voice.

Dropping the bag from your shoulder, you squinted at Tech. “Get used to what?”

With a confident tilt of his head, Tech smiled. "The fact that I am typically correct." His tone, imbued with humor and self-assurance, sent another flutter through your stomach.

A familiar voice came from the open doors of your quarters. “I am glad to see you are taking your duties seriously.” Your sister’s voice spun you around. Her eyes were focused on the forest beyond, leaving it to guess whether she was addressing your or Tech.

Stepping out from among the drapes, she wore a floor-length light purple dress, cinched at the waist with a golden chain and her hair pulled back by an opal comb. The sight tightened something in your chest. Given that you were summoned to be her stand-in, her presence at home was unexpected. “I didn’t think you’d be here,” you admitted.

She glanced over Tech as she stepped towards you, with her attention lingering before she finally looked at you. “The hot springs?” She asked with a raised brow.

“We had the time,” you replied simply.

Humming thoughtfully, your sister pretended to smooth her dress, keeping her focus on you as she dismissed Tech. “You may leave us, trooper.” Her newfound, cool demeanor you’d first witnessed on Kamino was jarring to say the least.

Tech didn’t immediately leave, but looked at you first. His eyes darted between yours with something like concern and a silent question in his attention. Acutely aware of your sister’s scrutiny, you offered Tech a smile of assurance. He returned the gesture with a nod and promptly excused himself. 

He was most likely still in earshot when your sister asked in a cool tone edged with criticism, “What are you doing, sister?”

“Waiting on Mother’s instructions.” You hadn’t expected to sound as snippy as you did.

By the way her eyebrows settled, neither did your sister. Maintaining eye contact, she waved a hand at the doorway behind her. “I meant with the clones.” She shook her head, frustration furrowing her brow. “This stunt of yours is going too far.”

“This stunt of mine?” You recoiled slightly, genuinely confused. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Your sister began pacing the veranda, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head in frustration.. “I thought you were getting some-” Her hand whipped around flippantly, “-Latent rebellious phase out of your system,” she scoffed, looking skyward before fixing her gaze back on you. “But now I’m beginning to think you…” Her voice trailed off as she stopped, pinning you with a stern look. 

She approached with hands outstretched to capture your face. Her warm palms gently pressed on your face, a cherishing touch. “Negating your duties to this family is one thing. Fraternizing with lab experiments is another.”

Lab experiments.

The connection wasn’t instantaneous, after all, it was unthinkable that your sister, who had always been the epitome of compassion, could utter such a callous phrase. When her meaning sank in, you took a step, perhaps the first one ever, away from your sister. The morning sun caught on golden threads sewn through your sister's dress, giving her an off putting halo that chilled you.

Throughout your life, where your mother’s efforts were indifferent, your sister exemplified compassion for others. To hear her now, casually dehumanizing an entire race, was like seeing a stranger in her guise. Hearing your mother through your sister, wearing such a familiar face, gave you pause.

Something fractured inside you, and it sharpened your voice to a jagged edge. “How could you say something like that?” 

Suddenly, her face softened into the warm grin you adored. With a sound of concession her hands waved around her head in submission before falling to her sides. “I’m just saying you were born for more than this.” Pulling you close again, she planted a kiss on your forehead, like you were a wayward child.

A vein of anger pulsed through you as you shoved her off. “And what exactly was I born for?” You challenged, barely restraining the bite behind your tone.

Your aggression didn’t dim her smile; she brushed off your rising ire with one calm word, “More.”

“Now,” she announced, clapping her hands together as if to dispel the tension. “I’m here to ensure everything is in order for the Gala.” Without checking to see if you followed, she began walking back inside, detailing the timeline for the next day. She never looked back, so accustomed was she to your lifelong habit of trailing behind her.

Anchored in place, you watched her disappear into your quarters. ‘Lab experiments’ kept turning over in your thoughts.

Beyond the sisterly love that always bound you, it was her opinions, thoughts, and motivations that you so sought to protect. She aimed to improve people’s lives and be the voice of your planet’s needs. Without her selfless, kind drive—or even the calculating leadership of your mother—you knew you could still support your people and protect your sister by becoming her shield.

But this new facet of her, the glimpses of a harsher woman unknown to you, troubled you. Supporting your sister and raising her voice above your mother’s was one thing. Supporting a voice that echoed your mother’s was another entirely.

Compared to participating in whatever pageantry your mother and sister had planned, scaling the ivy-covered wall beside you looked was the more appealing option. 

Your sister called your name, finally prompting you forward. You could dwell on your family after the event.

The Gala was to be held in a hall open to the public, whereas the rehearsal took place in the privacy of a separate, more secure hall. Typically the venues were one in the same but with your standing in, necessary precautions were taken.

While you managed the rehearsal, Howzer briefed Clone Force 99 on the layout and security protocols of the structure.

Having finished surveying the building’s perimeter, Howzer led the squad up a switchback staircase carved into the mountain. “This is the last access point to the building and, coincidentally,” he noted as they reached the top stair, “a backdoor for tomorrow.”

The stairs led to a rocky outcrop that overlooked the hall where the event would be held. The hall was dimly lit, with staff attending to last-minute preparations.

“It’s an impressive structure,” Hunter remarked, walking to the edge of the outcrop. He knelt down, scanning the windows and balconies below through his binoculars.

Based on Tech’s research, neither the Governor nor the Senator had heat on them. The entire estate was designed to be impenetrable, and as far as Hunter was concerned, everything was in order and controlled. Hunter stood to face Howzer, rolling a shoulder towards the estate behind him. “This seems pretty straight forward, why the extra security?”

Howzer thought, nodding through a long inhale, “The Governor doesn’t do anything without necessity.” He paused, but could only shrug, “But I can’t say. She hasn’t indicated any specific threat.”

Having been on a similar line of thought as Hunter, Echo was the next to question with a question. “Why are clone troopers stationed here anyways?” Clone troopers went where there was unrest and instability; conditions that did not describe your planet. Yours had been stable, if not outright prosperous, in the war so far. 

“This planet exports more raw energy than most planets in the Mid Rim combined.” Howzer explained. “From what I’ve been told, when the war started and sides were being chosen, the Republic wouldn’t risk losing this planet’s energy supply so they’ve done everything possible to placate the politicians here.”

He continued, “Plus, having Clone troopers escort the major energy shipments? It’s a smart move for keeping away Separatists and pirates.”

For most of the afternoon, Crosshair had kept his attitude subdued. Whether it was due to a lack of commentary or abundance of restraint was anyone’s guess. Eventually, his patience waned, and he couldn’t help but interject, his voice dripping with disdain.  “And where does being a glorified bodyguard come into play?” There was no curiosity in his question, only pure condescension.

Howzer shifted his weight, a muscle feathering over his jawline. Looking Crosshair over he mused, “Seeing as how we’re in the same boat for the next two days,” Scoffing, Howzer turned his attention back to venue below and continued, “Why don’t you let me know when you figure it out?”

That earned a laugh from Wrecker. Almost knocking Crosshair off balance, Wrecker knocked him with an elbow and chuckled, “He gotcha there, Cross.”

A snarl rippled over Crosshair’s lips, twisting into a mean smile. “So you enjoy playing lapdog for a few prissy politicians?”

“Prissy is one way to put it.” Tech added under his breath as he lifted his scanner in the air.

A smile softened Howzer’s features as he noticed a familiar figure stepping out onto a balcony. "Like I said - it has its perks," he said, his gaze fixed on the scene below. The two of you were discussing something with your sister holding a datapad between you while 9-E trailed you.

Crosshair followed Howzer's gaze, his annoyance cooling slightly as he spotted you on the balcony. The sniper clicked his tongue and stepped back from the ledge.

Tech, still fiddling with his scanner, noticed the change in Crosshair and found you. He watched you for a beat, glancing between Howzer and you, before tucking his device away. “It looks like they are nearing the end of their preparations. This would be a good opportunity to head back.” It was all the prompting his squad needed to start moving towards the stairs.

Howzer didn’t immediately move, his eyes dropping away before locking back on you. “Tell me something,” He said, voice dropping low. “How’d she take it?”

The question sent a pulse of silence through the men as they exchanged looks. Howzer  faced the group, tapping the scar that marred his left cheek. “I saw her face.”

“Running to her defense?” Crosshair's voice was sharp, tinged with scorn.

Echo passed Crosshair a disapproving shake of his head. Sounding impressed, Echo was the one to answer, “She handled herself like a soldier.”

That was the answer Howzer expected, but still his shoulders fell. Howzer's expression softened slightly, though a hint of sadness lingered. "Prissy doesn't even begin to cover her on a good day," he muttered, more to himself than to the others.

In the limited time the Captain was stationed on your planet, he’d caught on quickly enough to your family dynamics. 

Initially, the Senator had seemed the most approachable. She was amiable, respectful, and appreciative of the clones' efforts, contrasting sharply with the Governor’s dismissive air. Whereas, you were distant, something Howzer took as alignment with the Governor’s sentiments. Rumors even made their way through the barracks that it was the Governor that kept you away, that she deemed clones unworthy of her daughter’s company. Howzer shut the insubordination down, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought the same thing.

It wasn’t until the first conference Howzer attended with your family that his perspective changed. The conference kept the Governor distracted and gave you the first real chance to approach him. Your humor surprised him, your unabashed admiration for the clones even moreso. After an evening with you, he found himself in your company at every opportunity. While your leash was tight, more so than you probably even realized, you definitely knew your way around your restrictions.

Once Howzer heard how the Governor spoke of you and your ‘lack of ambition’ Howzer understood he only saw a small part of the whole. After a time she grabbed your arm so hard you winced, he worried about what she did when there weren’t witnesses. In the end, Howzer decided it wasn’t his place to comment. Even as a Captain in the Grand Army of the Republic, he was only a clone trooper.

So, he kept things professional, maintaining a safe boundary with you. Yet, he indulged your questions about training and duties, even encouraged you to get training if that’s what you felt your path was. When you didn’t return from Kamino, that safe boundary quickly felt like a noose on your neck.

Your safe return felt like a second chance. Howzer wouldn’t be a silent bystander again.

“You know,” Howzer addressed the group but looked directly at Crosshair. “We were made to take hits. Clones are trained all our lives to take this well.” He walked past the men, bumping into Crosshair on his way, adding, “Makes you wonder, doesn't it? What taught her to handle it so well?”

This was the first time a reg left Crosshair silent and the first time he resented his ability to see so far off. He didn’t want to look at you.

That evening, you returned well after dark. Exhausted, your feet ached, your back was sore, and your mind thoroughly numbed from your sister’s constant instructions. You didn’t even bother with the lights as you made your way through your quarters.

Slumping down on to the edge of the bed, you began pulling at the tight shoes your sister chose for you. As you bent, a twitch ran through you that flared pain in your shoulder. It reminded you of all the reasons your shoulder was sore and why you were staring at a pair of ugly, golden slippers.

A burst of rage sent the slipper soaring into the wall ahead of you. Unsatisfied, you ripped the other off and chucked it toward the open veranda doors, where it landed just short of the outside. 

Annoyed with yourself, you retrieved the shoe, and as you neared the door, you caught the drift of voices outside. With soft steps, you continued onto the veranda for a better listen.

Hunter’s stern voice made it through the wall first. “Crosshair, calm down.”

“No,” Crosshair snapped, his voice as furious as when you had headbutted him. “He knew who she was and didn’t say anything. He got us into this situation.”

Great, you inwardly groaned. They’re talking about me. Discomfort bloomed in your chest, sending prickling anxiety up your spine. They were fighting because of you.

Echo interjected, his tone just as firm. “The Prime Minister got us into this, not her. And you’re only making it worse with your attitude. Keep it to yourself. We have a mission to do and she certainly doesn’t need it,” he snapped, footsteps receding as he presumably walked back indoors.

As you strained to hear who was left, Tech’s reasoned voice floated over. “I hardly see how my knowledge of her identity caused any problems.”

“Oh, don’t act so innocent.” Crosshair fumed. “You knew, and because of your silence, I—We could’ve handled things differently.

Tech sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in his voice. “I merely respected her decision to train without interference.”

“And look where that got her,” Crosshair retorted sharply, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

At that you sucked in a small breath. 

Tech started to push back when Hunter finally stepped in, “We’re done here. Tech, Wrecker, inside. Crosshair, stay out here and cool off.”

From the sounds of it, the others retreated inside and the solitary grumbling confirmed it for you. As softly as possible, you walked to the railing. You swallowed what you could of your anxiety and leaned over the balcony to peer around the ivy wall.

Sure enough, there Crosshair was, head in hands, leaning on the handrail. Catching him in this small moment of silence felt like seeing something you shouldn’t have. The moonlight illuminated him, bouncing off his hair enough to give him a glow. He was beautiful.

“What could you possibly want?” You jumped when Crosshair’s sharp tone cut through the silence. He dropped his hands and met you with an irritated look.

The first thing that came to mind spilled out, your nerves getting the better of you. “I want a lot of things.”

Crosshair shifted his weight onto one elbow, twisting in place to see you better. “What?” The tone in that one word sounded like a larger, more insulting question.

Swaying from the balls of your feet to your tiptoes and back, you considered tossing yourself from the balcony rather than saying another word. Staring out over the forest beyond you were slow to think of anything. Hesitantly, you started, “I want… this Gala to be over.” You turned a smile on Crosshair, hoping the humor would crack his scowl. 

It didn’t.

“And I want to apologize.”

That caught his attention. His sour expression pinched with confusion. He straightened, resting his hand on the railing. “For what?” he asked skeptically.

Taking a sidestep in his direction, you took another jab as lightening the mood, crooning, “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not for headbutting you.” His face didn’t change and the grip he had on the railing went white, spiking that prickling anxiety again. Crosshair said nothing, pushing away from the railing to leave. 

“Crosshair, wait!” You scooted to where the veranda met the dividing wall.

“Save it.” He growled without looking back.

His walking away, dismissing you, not giving you the time of day - all of it broiled a rage deep seated within you. A rage that had been festering inside you since childhood. The very same flood of rage that sent your shoes flying earlier. One of which you still held in hand.

Chucking the slipper as hard as you could, it found its mark on the back of Crosshair’s head. At an abrupt halt, he stood frozen, then slowly faced you. Where the moonlight once brought out a beauty in the man, now darkened an already angry glower.

“What was that for?” His voice was dangerously low.

Refusing intimidation, you curled your fingers into the air in front of you. Through gritted frustration, you said, “Because I’m tired of you being an ass! You’re angry with me so just-” Your hands fumbled in front of you, making angry shapes as you worked out the last words, “Just say it!”

Crosshair said nothing, going silent as he took two long strides, gripped the railing with one hand, and vaulted himself around the wall with fluidity. You managed to get out of his way as he danding on your side without a sound. He didn’t move any closer, but even feet away he stood over you. 

Not backing down, you were the one to close the distance, doubling down by saying, “Say it to my face.” He dodged the finger you thrust in his face.

The two of you stood like that, on the cusp of something angry, for almost a moment too long. As if neither of you had fully thought this through. Thought through what to say or how to say it. Especially seeing as your typical mode of conflict wasn’t on the table.

His jaw clenched a few times before he spoke and, much calmer than you expected, Crosshair said, “You should have told us who you were.”

Your frustration bled into desperation. “Crosshair, please, this isn’t a game to me. If I wanted to train, I had to-” On instinct you reached for his arm but he stepped out of reach before you made contact.

You both froze with your hand still hanging between you. Simultaneously, the two of you broke eye contact to look at your hand and when he didn’t swat your hand, you reached for him again. And again, he evaded you.

“Crosshair.” You said slowly. “What is going on?” His avoidance seemed like anger, but his sidestepping made you think again. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I...” Crosshair’s voice trailed off as he fell back a step, something flickering in his eyes. He tried to look elsewhere, but you stepped into his line of sight. A little jolt ran up his neck, almost taken aback by your persistence. What little control he had over himself seemed to be slipping.

Careful of the boundary you toed, you held his gaze while extending a hand to him again. His eyes didn’t falter, but the breath he held told you he knew what you were doing. With the caution of handling a wild animal, you gently touched his forearm. The muscles in his jaw went tight at your touch.

In a voice reserved for your sister, gentle and patient, you pushed softly, “It’s more than not telling you, isn’t it?”

The moonlight softened Crosshair’s brown eyes to a pale hazel and revealed a flicker of whatever fight he had with himself. “If I had known who you were-”

“You wouldn’t have trained me?” You cut him off, too eager to know his inner workings.

His mouth opened just enough for him to say, “That’s not it.” For only a second, had you blinked you’d have missed it, his eyes scanned your face.

You didn’t need to ask to know it was marks on your face he sought.

“No.” A dawning realization tilted your head. You weren’t sure if you were flattered or offended. “You wouldn’t have used me like a punching bag.”

Like a child caught in trouble, those pale hazel eyes widened. This was, perhaps, a shared realization.

“Are you avoiding me because you’re ashamed?” Crosshair didn’t respond, his silence a confirmation as he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. 

“I… I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not more than I already have.”

His confession pushed your hand from his forearm to his hand, balled into a tight fist.

“Look at me,” You urged gently, wedging your fingers into his. “Crosshair.” For a long moment, he remained still, then slowly, he found your eyes again.

You shook your head with a weak smile, the weight of his guilt adding to your own. Squeezing his hand you made your own confession. “I am sorry-”

“Don’t-”

“No.” You said firmly, squeezing again. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you all into this. I just…” A crack in your voice made you pause. Coughing through it, you continued, “I just wanted to be more than I am.”

Red hot shame burned tears into the corners of your eyes. The hold you had on his fingers, sat loose in yours, suddenly felt like an imposition. For weeks he was forced to be in your company. Now you forced him away from his duties to be another unwilling participant.

You slipped your hand from his at the thought of doing anymore damage. Your retreat made it no farther as an armored arm slung around you.

Crosshair pulled you close, trapping you under his chin. The sound of crickets was dampened by his breathing and drowned out entirely when Crosshair spoke.

“Don’t apologize to me or anyone else for that matter.”

The moment was fleeting. Before you could fully register or react to his words, Crosshair let you go, stepping back to give you space, his expression perfect neutrality. The feel of his arm lingered around you and kept you speechless as he lightly swiped a thumb over your eye. 

When all you managed were a few blinks, his lips pulled slightly to one side. “That’s not a good look for you.”

Warmth spread through your chest when he made a swipe over your other eye. You chuffed at the soft gesture, but gently pushed his hand away. While your touch still lingered, you playfully tugged his hand to the side, as if inviting him to dance.

Angling a smile up at him, you asked, “And… who can’t keep their hands off of who?”

Crosshair’s smile vanished as he rolled his eyes and groaned, pulling his hand back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

You palmed away any remaining tears, chuckling as you stepped back. “Oh, get over yourself.”

There was a beat of silence before you both laughed. It was the first time you heard him laugh softly. The lingering warmth from your brief, shared laughter made the cool night air more bearable.

“As fun as this is,” Crosshair drawled, taking another step away. He flashed you one last disarming smile before turning on a heel to leave. “I think someone needs her beauty sleep.”

Your stomach fluttered as you watched him walk away. Seeing him so relaxed and even playful made his tease feel unexpectedly charming.

With a light laugh and a wave, you called out, “Go away, Crosshair.”

Alone on the veranda, you wrapped your arms around yourself, absorbing the night’s calm. The day had been the longest you’d had in a long time. And at the end of it all - you somehow felt good. Making amends with Crosshair made you feel hopeful that whatever tomorrow brought, you were ready for it.

Whether the men of Clone Force 99 knew it or not, they were changing your life forever.

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @havocsix2havoc5 @thebadbatchfan @rhyscosmos @euphrosyn3 @a-rose-of-amber @reader3 @gingermeowmeow @noraantilles @tbbtechlover @fruityfucker @sparks0918 @patat-gurl @locamoka-blog @gvnthesia @astralqueenoc @the-adventures-of-alex-aurelius @faborriku @galaxyquirks @bimboshaggy @starlightaurorab @commanderblood @froggygal @bbuckysbeardd @baddest-batchers

[moonstrider9904]

That Old Song

Pairing: Crosshair x Female Reader

Summary: After pining after him for months, you get the chance to see Crosshair one more time before he ships out with his squad to Kaller.

Tags: SFW. Kissy-kiss, pre-relationship, general softness, implied tragic romance

Word count: 1693 words

Read on AO3 | My one-shot masterlist

This one was inspired by That Old Song from the Slime Rancher soundtrack because it gives me tragic romance vibes and even though I always wanna give Crosshair a happy ending, I really felt inspired to explore the more tragic side of canon because we all know what happens to him by this point (and season 3's not even over lol Lord help us)

The sky turned purple as the sun on Anaxes began to set. The warm toned twilight would always bring a sense of foreboding with it, but you were used to it. The hangar on Anaxes was not a front line, but it was still a warzone, and war didn't discriminate. It took away, it destroyed, it forced goodbyes, but like the stars that were rising in the ever-darkening sky, there were always gleams of hope that traced finer, beautiful shapes if you knew how to look for them.

He was such a glimmer, at least to you.

You hadn't stepped a foot inside the base since the Havoc Marauder landed. Though repairs and refueling were insistently handled by the team's own engineer, you had the honor of being the only mechanic around whom Tech would even allow to set a finger on the hull of the modified Omicron-class attack shuttle. While he was off running diagnostics and the rest of the squad loaded up on rations, you were finishing up putting away the supplies you'd needed for a standard oil change. You caught the scent of the oil coming from your gloves, which you carefully removed to reveal your hands, the skin on them soft and surprisingly well taken care of despite your profession. At that moment, you could hear the subtle pacing behind you, and a gentle smile formed on your lips. You'd had so many encounters with them that, while short, had already allowed you to recognize how each of the defective clones walked - you'd gotten the chance to know such a detail from many clone battalions, but you didn't enjoy knowing any of them as much as you did for Clone Force 99.

The steps approaching you were light as a feather resulting in lifelong training for stealth, and long resulting in a tall silhouette. Carefully paced one after the other, you knew he was already smirking at the sight of you. It was simply who he was.

You turned around and your eyes landed on the silver hair and the deep brown eyes that would reflect sunlight so beautifully whenever a golden ray hit them just right - that was the only thing that made you yearn for sunshine in the middle of that twilight. Regardless, you couldn't help but grin at the man approaching you. Being in his presence was everything that occupied your thoughts when he was gone.

"Thought you'd be here," he said while chewing on a toothpick.

The giggle that left you was just a bit too obvious for your taste, but you muscled through it. "Aren't you smart."

"I hope you haven't been here all week," he teased. "I don't tell you when I'll be here in my letters for you to tie yourself to the hangar."

"It might surprise you to know I'm always exactly where I need to be," you smirked, your hands traveling to your hips. "I just happen to be needed here right now."

Crosshair, who was always so stern and so serious, let out a chuckle in front of you. The way others talked about him, even his brothers, you were already sure by then that you were one of the only people he ever did that around, and the low sound of his laughter and the way his chest fluttered when he did made you feel your knees giving out on you. Finally, Crosshair took a couple of calculated steps toward you, decreasing some of the distance between the two of you. He looked down at you, silent for a moment, so peaceful you could hear the wind blowing at your sides. Despite the cool breeze, all you could feel on your skin was heat.

"Have you heard the rumors?" You asked him.

Crosshair nodded, the seriousness returning to his face. "Yeah. War's ending soon."

Sarcasm flooded his previous remark, and you gave him a bittersweet smile. "You don't seem all that happy about it."

"It's not that," Crosshair replied. "I'm not in a position to assert or expect anything."

"Right," your mind went back to your initial pondering on the cruelties of war, but you decided to focus on the man in front of you. "Will you be headed to Coruscant?"

Crosshair shook his head. "We're needed on Kaller."

"Oh," you said. "I see. Kaller... snowy, full of clankers."

"My specialty," Crosshair purred.

You giggled. "So... maybe it's safer to say that I'll see you again soon?"

As you were talking to him, you inched closer to Crosshair. Your hands were down at your sides, but you couldn't help but notice how close his hands were to yours, and how easy it would be to reach out and touch his gloved fingers with your bare ones. What you hadn't realized up until that moment, even with all the letters and the hours you'd spent thinking about Crosshair, was how desperately you needed to hold him, and to be held by him.

But Crosshair sighed, hesitant. "Darling..."

"We haven't been sending each other letters for months now just because," you whispered. "Have we?"

A faint smile appeared on his thin lips. "No."

Your own smile, though soft, grew at him, and your eyes seemed to sparkle.

"Crosshair..." You sighed, the dreaminess finding its way into your voice.

He couldn't help but laugh again. "Well, damn. You really are smitten."

Flustered, you looked away, but Crosshair reached out to gently hold your chin and have you look up at him again. He took in the way you were looking at him, with sparkling eyes and an adorable smile, your cheeks warm and your silhouette glowing with hope, like a girl first entranced by puppy love. Your hand went up to perch itself over his wrist, but as you did, your romantic heart stilled itself when the thought of him leaving soon bled into your mind, forcing the smile to slowly disappear from you.

"What is it?" He asked.

You chuckled bashfully. "I just..."

You feared the effect of your words, you feared that it would put a pressure on him that he didn't need, one that no soldier deserved to be burdened with. But inside you, a flame burned, one that prompted you to simply speak now, to not hold back, to not reduce yourself and your feelings to letters and comms. Crosshair, the man of your dreams, finally stood before you, his hand on your skin. You would never forgive yourself if you wasted this opportunity now that you had it.

Because how in the world could you have known what happened next?

"I just don't want you to leave," you whispered. "I never do."

Crosshair gave a soft exhale as he rolled the toothpick to the opposite corner of his lips and spat it out to the side only to look at you again, his gaze turning gentle on you. His other hand traveled up to your face, and now he cupped your cheeks with a steady, soft grip.

"Would it help if I told you I don't want to leave you here either?" He asked.

You smiled softly. "It's nice to know that."

Your eyes met, and you were overtaken by the desire to collapse in his arms and become one with him. You valued each second you'd been gifted to look at his face; your gaze traced the tattoo over his right eye, memorizing the little textures where the ink seemed to falter - you'd never noticed it wasn't a solid line, it looked like it'd been drawn over the artisanal canvas of his skin. You basked in his warmth as your hands reached out to his waist, and you pulled yourself closer to him, and while you did, part of you wanted to curse and lash out at the fact that you hadn't done this sooner.

But you were there now, and that was enough to calm you. And if the war was ending, you wanted to cling to the hope that you'd be in the arms of your beloved again soon.

"Crosshair?" You asked.

With his gaze, he prompted you to continue.

"I..." you said. "I want to kiss you."

Crosshair didn't wait longer, and he slowly lowered himself to gently press his lips to yours. You felt as if every star in the sky above you would explode at that moment, and your arms slid up around Crosshair's shoulders while his slid around your waist. A kiss that started out softly didn't hesitate to become what you could only describe as romance itself, fully engulfing you both in one wavelength as your lips danced together, timeless in your own right. Softly, you moaned at his taste, and you vowed never to forget the sensation of his lips on yours, warm and intoxicating, like it would give you everything you'd ever need for the rest of your days.

You never wanted it to end, but the time came for Crosshair to set you down again. You hadn't even noticed when you'd started to stand on your toes, but when the soles of your feet were back on the ground, you looked up at him with hope, with love, and with the unspoken desire to scream "don't go" building up and eating you up inside.

With all those feelings in your gaze, looking at you nearly broke Crosshair's heart.

Your hands gently traveled to Crosshair's cheeks and you felt his stubble growing in beneath your fingertips. You gave a light chuckle and added that detail to the many you'd remember from that night, and finally, you smiled brightly at Crosshair.

"Let me know where you end up after Kaller," you said.

Crosshair smiled softly. "You know I will."

You knew it would be time for him to leave soon, so you resolved to be with him in the time you had left. You threw your arms around Crosshair and held him tighter than you'd ever held anyone. You didn't mind the armor under your soft body, all that mattered was you were holding him.

And fervently, during those last few moments, you prayed neither Kaller nor whatever came after it would take him away from you.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[neon-junkie]

Omega: Tech, I can't sleep :(

Tech: How about a bedtime story?

Omega: Yes, please!

Tech: This was one of my favourites when I was a cadet. The beginners manual to the Omicron-class attack shuttle, Volume 1.

Omega: uhmm... suddenly, I'm tired... maybe I don't need a bedtime story?

Tech: Oh, but I insist! Let me read it for you!

[thesmollestnerd]

All of this not to mention we're seeing that trust slowly being rebuilt. It takes time. The more Cross opens up to the Batch about what happened, the more trust is there.

For the people who keep hating on Hunter: yall need to realize this poor man has been traumatized too. Hunter has probably been trained/conditioned out of expressing his emotions deeply, because he had to prioritize the safety of his squad, he had to be the level head. I cannot begin to tell you how much that fucks with your psyche to put everyone's needs before your own.

For fucks sake, you think he didn't internalize Crosshair's 'betrayal' as a reflection on himself? You think he wasn't shattered by the loss of Tech? Worried sick and terrified for Omega?

He might be cautious around Cross bit it's clear he loves his brother so damn much, even if he was hurt, even if he doesn't initially trust him.

I really really do not think Hunter is jealous of the attention Crosshair is getting from Omega. That’s not how that scene registered with me at all. He’s not insecure like that and, despite widespread fanon beliefs, he doesn’t have this unjustified vendetta against Crosshair. He has legitimate grievances and valid reasons to not trust him.

I think he really values Omega’s opinion. He knows she’s just a kid but he also knows how smart she is. What she thinks matters to him, so if he can see that she genuinely trusts Crosshair enough to copy his mannerisms, it might make him reconsider how much of his own trust he can give back to Crosshair too.

At the same time, he’ll also just be worried about her. He wants her to be right about Crosshair, but he’s not willing to risk losing her again on the off chance she isn’t.

So it’s a bit of both. He wants to be able to trust Crosshair again, but he’s still being cautious and that is completely understandable.

People want Hunter to be a terrible person so bad and it baffles me. He’s never done anything other than act like a human and that means he’ll make mistakes, sure, but at his core he’s a genuinely good person. He’s just tired of losing people and isn’t willing to take as many chances anymore.

[yoitsjay]

Bestie when I tell you your fast and for what Tech got me feelin some kind of way 😳🫣🤤 like girl please the Tech community is T H I R S T Y!!!! Anyway love your work 💕💗💘 if your not doing anything could I request a Crosshair x y/n who is a former Jedi experiencing love for the first time? Hope you have a good day or night 👋🏼

Omg thank you! So nice to hear good feedback on the fics I write 🤭 I absolutely love your idea, so here we go! Hopefully I did ok, this one kind of stumped me

Yeah?... Good

Pairings: Crosshair x gn jedi! Reader

Summary: you had left the order when you realized how corrupt it became. But your past keeps chasing you and now you find yourself feeling things you've never felt before for a certain clone who doesn't even know you were a jedi... or does he?

Warnings: crosshair kinda loves u right away cuz your so awesome. Yoda is your previous master, white lightsaber, crystal cleansing, italics is a flashback

Word count: 2099

“The Jedi had become so corrupt! We used to be peacekeepers! Now all we do is fight in wars and lead good men to their deaths! I will not be a part of an order that partakes in such violence!”

Those were the last words you had said to the jedi council, before leaving. You left your whole life behind, and had to pick up a new life and build it from scraps.

You tried many things, regular jobs in the city, mechanical work, ship maintenance. Eventually you had saved up enough credits to leave Coruscant and you did, and you had hoped you would never return but you had picked up bounty work, as much as you hated it, and it was bringing you back to Coruscant.

The bounty was actually put up by the republic, a call for extra aid. You were to meet a small batch of elite clones, complete a retrieval mission in separatist space, and return to Coruscant. Returning to this dreaded planet, but as long as nobody recognized you, you would be fine.

You were wearing a decent amount of armor, and a helmet that covered your entire head. It had a voice modulator so if you needed to speak your voice would be distorted. But your end goal was to say as little words as possible.

When you arrived in front of the GAR, you noticed several different ships but one really stood out. It was an omicron class attack shuttle but it looked modified. It was interesting since you had never seen a ship like that before when you were a jedi.

You continued analyzing the exterior of the ship, keeping a decent distance as you were still waiting on a pickup or for someone to come greet you.

“Ain’t she pretty?” A voice called out, and you turned your head slightly. You noticed this man was a clone, but with several different cybernetics, and a scomp on his left arm. You nodded, turning away from the ship to face the man, realizing that more people, helmeted and in clone armor, were standing behind him.

This must have been the elite clone squad.

“You must be the bounty-”

“mercenary.” You cut off, your modulator transforming your voice as it spoke, making it deeper, and more crackly. The cyber man nodded, turning to look at his brothers. “This is the rest of clone force 99, our leader is Sergeant Hunter, and beside him are Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker.” He introduced, pointing to each individual as he said their names.

You nodded again. stepping forward to extend your hand. The men had removed their helmets, and you could see their brief surprise before Hunter shook your hand. And then you extended your hand to Crosshair, who stared at you before scoffing.

You rolled your eyes but lowered your hand. “Y- Spectre.” You spoke up, almost using your name instead of your codename, which you had quickly corrected.

You had picked the name specter since as a mercenary or bounty hunter, you tended to disappear in plain sight, and stir chaos without being seen.

It was probably because of the modifications in your armor, you had a device built into your suit that allowed you to camoflauge no matter where you went,so you basically became invisible when you needed too

“Alright Spectre… We’ll brief you on the mission on the Marauder.” Hunter spoke up and you nodded, staying behind for only a few seconds as they walked forward. Crosshair roughly shoulder checked you as he walked past, but you only glared, giving him no satisfaction of seeing a reaction.

The ship was smaller than any ship you’ve been on, but it seemed to hold five people nicely enough. Once the ship lifted off, Echo had informed the council that they picked up the aid. Yoda was on the transmission, and he stared at you, despite not seeing you… like he could sense your presence.

“Sense something familiar I do… trust the operative, i suggest.” Ypda stated, looking back at Echo. “May the force be with you. Echo.” Yoda finished before the transmission ended. A sigh escaped your lips, but was not heard by the others.

Soon everyone was called into the cockpit, and Hunter pulled up a hologram of… your planet?

You were born on an outer rim separatist planet, your family knew how strong with the force you were, so they had smuggled you off world and basically shipped you to Coruscant and to the Jedi temple. You were only a child, but you always remembered where you came from… But at the time you didn’t understand why they just gave you up. Until you saw the war first hand with your master.

Yoda.

Of course he could sense you, even through a damn hologram. And now you were returning home, to a planet under heavy siege.

You clenched your fists, but zoned into the briefing, not knowing that Crosshair was examining you, seeing you tense up, and breathe a little heavier before clenching your hands and calming down.

There was something about you, something that he couldn’t place.

“So our mission is to destroy the droid factories to limit their creation so Yoda’s battalion can swoop in and take Rystone for the republic. Specter, we’ve been told you can camouflage, and you're highly trained in stealth. So you and Crosshair will be a team and will sneak inside the factory to plant charges along the main support columns.” Hunter explained, and you nodded briefly.

He then went on to task the others, and soon you were readying your weapons. You carried a blaster, and a longer vibroblade that wasn't quite a sword, but wasn’t a standard knife either. You also placed several throwing knives on different points of your armor, having mini knife holsters strapped pretty much between every armor plate.

Crosshair watched you while cleaning his rifle. He couldn’t tell if you were male, or female. Not like it mattered he liked both. But the way your aura had been drawing him in, he almost felt bad shoulder checking you earlier.

Almost.

Once you were done you turned to look at him, tilting your head. “Will you take that helmet off?” He asked, and you shook your head. “No.” You replied swiftly, and Crosshair hummed. “You like knives?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Easier to use than a blaster.” You huffed.

In truth you would much rather use lightsabers. But that was a luxury you couldn’t have any longer.

Soon the Marauder landed on Rystone, and you all made your way to the city, splitting up into groups once you breached the wall. Crosshair led the way to the droid factory, and you did your best to ignore the surroundings of your home planet. But it felt like the force was trying to pull you in a specific direction.

You pushed it away, focusing on the mission as a grunt left your lips. Now comes your part in the mission. You grabbed several charges, leaving the rest with crosshair as your armor and weapons camouflaged and blended in with your surroundings.

You ran, slightly crouched, placing a charge and setting it at every column like you were instructed to Crosshair did what he needed too, and eventually you ran into him again. You disabled the camo and followed him up to a safe vantage point.

Crosshair commed Hunter and told him the charges were set before he turned to look at you, crouched and studying the area. “Why’d you become a mercenary?” He drawled out, and you glanced at him before mulling over your answers.

“Money.” You settled, it was a typical answer, not entirely a lie but not a full truth either. And even with the modulator-

“Hey! intruders!” A droid suddenly shouted, breaking you and Crosshair from what you could assume was a conversation. You grabbed a throwing knife, jumping to avoid blaster fire as you twisted in the air, throwing your knife towards the droid, subtly using the force to direct the blade which landed right into the droid's head. But the alarms were already pulled.

You ran towards the other droids,picking up the knife from the dead droid as you started slicing the other ones. Crosshair laid cover fire if you needed it, but the way you were cutting the droids like butter?

He was kind of in awe of your skill.

Until a droid had grabbed you by your neck, its punch knocking your helmet off your head and onto the ground. Crosshair was too occupied shooting at the droids advancing towards him, but you managed to get out of the droid's grip, slicing its wiring with a secret blade on your wrist.

You fell to the ground, gasping for air as you gripped your throat. The explosions then went off and you winced, But Crosshair was by your side and he was gently helping you to your feet. “I’m okay.” You choked out, ignoring the look he gave you. “yeah?... good.” He muttered, keeping his hand on the small of your back just for a moment before he pulled away.

Hunter then came over the coms and told Crosshair and you to meet at the rondevu point. So from there Crosshair led you out of the droid factory, taking out whatever droids remained from the explosions.

You had tried looking for your helmet but it was knocked over the edge when you were fighting that bigger droid. Crosshair had been… admiring? no, but he was definitely staring at you, analyzing your features that had now been revealed to him.

He thought you were gorgeous. You had a few scars littered across your face but he liked that, he prefered people who weren't afraid to take hits and then wore their scars without being ashamed.

Soon you reached the rondevu point, and the other clones’ eyes widened when they saw you without your helmet, but what was most surprising was that Yoda was standing beside them, a smile on his face almost.

“Ah, I had a feeling it was you, I did… Young one.” Yoda spoke up. You glanced around nervously before allowing yourself to one knee. “Master…” You trailed off, but his tiny hand reached out, and rested on yours. He comforted you, with such a simple gesture. “Strong with the force, you still are. Practicing, have you?” He asked, and you chuckled, nodding with a smile.

Hearing this, Crosshair and the rest of the bad batch were flabbergasted. You were once a jedi, let alone Yoda’s padawan?

regardless they didn’t interrupt, just staring, waiting.

Just then, Yoda pulled out your lightsaber, a dual saber which was your preferred stance. But something was wrong…

“So much anger, you had for the council. Your saber, connected to you it was. For years, it fed on your hate.” Today explained, opening the saber to reveal a red Kyber crystal.

“No longer a jedi, perhaps. But a peacekeeper, you are.” He stated, and you used the force to hold the lightsaber. You closed your eyes, and sighed.

The red of your once vibrant blue crystal started fading, as you let go… of all that sadness and frustration that you held. You cleansed the crystal, until it was white. You then closed up the saber, and it landed in your hands.

“Right you were, always… young padawan.”Yoda spoke up, looking around. “Sense something evil, i do. Trust in the force, and in your new friends, yes?” Yoda asked, and you nodded, standing up to your feet before looking at Crosshair, who had a light smirk playing on his face.

“hell yeah! Do we get a jedi?!” Wrecker exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air with a grin. You looked down at Yoda, who chuckled. You spoke up. “Not quite, but if you’ll have me… i would love to stay.” You stated, and Hunter nodded slowly. “With the way Crosshair looks at you like a piece of candy that should be no problem.” He teased his brother, and you smiled, nodding to Yoda.

“Take back your home, we will.” he stated, and walked away. You sighed, staring down at the lightsaber before you ignited it. one blade at a time.

The white blades hummed with emotion, emotion you channeled and let go as needed.

Not a jedi, not anymore… But a protector of the light. A lover, a fighter, a person.

With a family…

and boy did Crosshair ever make your life exciting.

Even as he tried to kill you on Kaller, now that was fun.

➺

Tag list:

Crosshair:

@nyctophobiart

Tbb:

@moomoog017 @only-my-unexistent-fiances

[indigofyrebird]

Fresh Ink

word count: 1,035

rated G

for the @summer-of-bad-batch prompt "just when were you planning on telling us that?"

The tightly knit batch of brothers sat together over dinner. Wrecker and Hunter and Crosshair and Tech. Wrecker sat on the outside acting as protection from any bullies that might prod at them. Tech was the smallest, large eyes behind even larger goggles. He sat on the inside. Tech was the smallest and Wrecker was the biggest. Biggest in stature with a loud booming voice. Yesterday, one of the reg cadets had tried to steal a bran muffin straight off Crosshair's tray, and Wrecker had stood up, flexing his large biceps, looming over the thief until he backed down. Next to Tech, Crosshair was the smallest. A skinny boy, his legs had begun to grow longer recently, and he was taller than his littlest brother now. Hunter was somewhere in the middle. Hunter, who had started growing his hair out and had somehow gotten away with it, so far. 

They had graduated from Advanced last week and had been given their own ship. Tech had, of course received top marks in flight and had immediately claimed the ship as his own. He would be their pilot, it was his ship. None of his brothers argued with him, happy to let him take charge in that area. 

He had flown it twice now, and the total exhilaration he had felt behind the controls had been unmatched. After flying it for the first time, Hunter had had to order him to bed. He was so excited after that he had paced their small barracks, string of words going a mile a minute. Even after lying in bed, he stared wide eyed at the bunk above him. His heart felt like it was going to come out of his chest with the excitement of it. 

"Tech." Hunter said from the top bunk. "I can hear you thinking. Go. To. Sleep." 

"I am sorry, Hunter, but I cannot shut off my brain that easily. I want to fly it again. It was amazing, wasn't it? Did you see how it responded to the slightest pull? She is a beautiful ship. Don't you think? I have chosen a name for her. The Marauder. The Havoc Marauder. She will take us to so many new places. She will broaden our world." 

Hunter sighed. "It is a nice ship."

"Hunter, nice does not even begin to describe it. She is a modified Omicron class attack shuttle. The finest I have ever flown. Well, the only one I have ever flown...but most definitely the finest."

"Goodnight, Tech."

"Goodnight, Hunter." When Tech finally fell asleep, he dreamed of flying. 

****

Their very first mission had been a success. Tech had expertly piloted their escape, his skills already becoming fine-tuned. After a scheduled medical examination, he had taken a detour before dinner. His brothers didn't question him, but they had all noticed his delay. 

Crosshair watched him closely the rest of the night, attempting to figure out what he had been up to. 

Dinner had been the same. Same food, same bullies. Tonight, one of their main antagonists had grabbed for Tech's goggles. The regs all knew about their recent acquisition and were obviously jealous. "Heard you got your own ship, Four Eyes." He pulled the strap holding his goggles in place, snapping it against Tech's head while they stood in line for food. Crosshair stepped in front of Tech with a snarl, his lips open, showing teeth. Hunter attempted to lower his voice to a raspy gravel. "Kriff off." Wrecker was the deciding vote, his size and intense stare causing the smaller cadet to back down. 

"Whatever. No one cares about your stupid ship anyway." 

Tech rubbed the back of his head where the strap had stung. 

After dinner, he lounged quietly in his bunk. He caught Crosshair's eyes on him several times, and he pretended to ignore him, scrolling through his datapad. When it was time for bed, he changed in the 'fresher instead of in their barracks as they usually did. Crosshair noticed right away and cornered him. "What is going on? I know you're hiding something." Hunter and Wrecker turned to watch. 

"It's nothing, leave me alone, Cross." Tech folded his arms over his chest. 

"No." Their sniper said. "Come on, give it up, Tech. You can tell us."

"Yeah, you can tell us!" Wrecker joined in. 

Hunter stood. He was torn between curiosity and defending his littlest brother. Curiosity won. "Ok, Tech, what's up? That's an order." He used his Sergeant voice. 

Tech looked up at his brothers, his expression behind his large goggles distressed. He set down his datapad and lifted his top slowly. "I just love her so much..." he trailed off. 

His brothers stared at his bare chest. On his left pectoral muscle, above his heart was inked the words H A V I C  M A R A D E R. His skin around the fresh tattoo was red. 

"Just when were you planning on telling us? Hmm?" Crosshair asked.

"That..that's not how you spell..." Hunter's mouth fell open. 

"I KNOW!" Tech shouted, pulling his top back down quickly. He threw himself onto his bunk, face burrowing into his pillow. 

Wrecker wanted to sit by him but Hunter tapped his shoulder, nodding his head in the opposite direction. "Let's give him a minute," he said. 

****

Weeks had passed, and one day, Crosshair brought back a small kit from another successful mission. Opening it on the work bench, he began taking the tools out, laying them beside the case. His brothers crowded around to see what it was. Crosshair picked up what looked like a miniature blaster. "It's a tattoo gun," he said. It came with one color ink: black. 

"So I can fix that" he indicated Tech's chest. 

When he was finished, the tattoo looked good. He had been able to fix the spelling and had added a little outline of a heart at the end of the words. 

Tech admired it in the mirror. "Thank you, Crosshair. It looks very good." 

Hunter cleared his throat. "How much ink is in that thing?" He ran his fingers over the left side of his face. "I was thinking maybe you could do one on me..."

For the @summer-of-bad-batch prompt "just when were you planning on telling us that?"

I'm sorry for the weird font. I copy/pasted from ao3 and this is how it comes out. I am not skilled enough to fix it without screwing it up!

[dixieconley]

What if Palpatine's habit of using the chip to make Fox his personal assassin had consequences?

Triage: Fox, you need more sleep or it's going to have serious consequences to your health. Fox: I'll sleep when I'm dead. Triage: … Triage: You mean that literally, don't you? Thorn: ::chiming in helpfully:: He does sleep-- Fox: Thank you, Thorn. Thorn: --he sleeps standing up during Senate shifts all the time.  And at his desk.  He's been making folding art out of his flimsiwork again.  Look!  An Omicron class attack shuttle!  And a rotary cannon! Fox: Give me those.  I still need to file them. Thorn: ::clutches the rotary cannon to his chest:: No! My precious!! Triage: … Triage: That's it.  I'm sedating you for the next eight hours and you *will* sleep. Fox: … Triage: If you ever want another cup of caf again, you'll cooperate. Fox: …fine.

And so Fox gets sedated so he can get some real rest.  But what none of them know is that Fox is *used* to carrying out blackout missions while his conscious mind is suppressed.  Overuse of the chip has left him highly suggestible in this state.  And sedation?  Is an awful lot like being put under by the chip.

Triage: ::surveying a sleeping Fox:: Finally. Thorn: Hey, this is a good thing, right? Triage:  ::darkly::  Kill the chancellor for me please. Thorn: Is he a traitor?  Please tell me he's a traitor.  We get to kill traitors. Triage: …yes.  He's somehow managed to violate even the low standards for health and safety that we had on Kamino.  So do kill him, please. Thorn: ::laughing:: I wish.

And they think they're joking, but Fox is Right.  There.  And he's heard everything even if only subconsciously.

So… four hours later.

Triage: Where's Fox?  I'm going to kill him.  He's escaped from Medbay.  Again. Thorn: Where do you think? Triage: …at his desk? Thorn: ::nods:: Making a lightsaber out of flimsi. Triage: ::sighs:: Keep him there.  I'll be right up. Thorn: Will do.  Thorn out.  ::to Fox::  Can you make one of the Chancellor next?  I want to blow it up. Fox: ::nods, keeps folding:: Thire: ::bursts into office:: Fox!  Thorn!  The chancellor's dead!  He was killed in his sleep!  And the guard on duty said the last person to leave was the commander! Thorn: Couldn't have been Fox.  He was under sedation in Medbay and he's still asleep right now. Thire: But he's at his desk? Thorn: He does that.  Fox sleepwalks-- ::both stare at Fox in dawning comprehension:: Thorn: … Thire: You don't suppose he got footage, do you?

Much later, after a long nap:

Fox: I couldn't have killed him.  I'm a professional.  If I'd killed him, I wouldn't have left a body behind. Thorn: Maybe don't use that argument at your trial? Fox: Meh.  The Chancellor's dead.  Nothing can top this. Fox: Other than kriffing *remembering* it.

[starilicious]

mere haath mein (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader and echo's love story from strangers to friends to lovers throughout the clone wars (a 4+1 type of story)

》 series masterlist: (please read the masterlist before continuing on!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 📍 (you are here!) | part +1

click here to read on AO3

》 part 4.5.2 word count: ~1.9k

》 part 4.5.2 warnings: none

》 part 4.5.2 spoilers: bad batch citadel episode

》 a/n: so sorry i disappeared! college took over my life like a storm but the semester is over now which means back to posting! i hope you all enjoyed the last season of our favs... it was such a bittersweet ending and i'm going to miss watching the show. :(( but in other news, here is the original a/n i had of this part of the fic sitting in my drafts: i lied, 4.5.2 is a longer part than i thought it would originally be LOL but enjoy!!! also, instead of fives dying, i had him disappear off the face of the galaxy. he tells anakin and rex about the chips, but he’s able to get out of that warehouse place alive because i truly despise the fact that echo is the only one left of domino squad… it makes me sad ksdfhgksdf

४.५.१ (4.5.2)

Your personal commlink crackles to life. A staticky voice comes through as you struggle to hear the message. You swiftly link it to your monitor, boosting the long-range signal the best you can.

“–stro? It’s Rex. Can you hear me? We… –und him. Come to dock...–bay six at 1600.”

The channel closes, and the static disappears into silence. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you glance at your chronometer. 0900, it reads.

After Fives disappeared, you became especially close with Rex, often accompanying him on missions where your skills as an engineer were needed. Times were getting rough and the GAR needed all the help they could get out in the field. You were first to volunteer.

For the rest of the day, you’re distracted. Even Arjun, one of the newest engineers on your team as a replacement for Prauf and Sonia, notices it. Dropping tools, tripping over supplies, forgetting your train of thought. You’re just so baffled. Rex has never done this before. And what in the galaxy could he possibly need you for right after a mission?

You’re at the hanger ten minutes early, the anxiety of just wanting to know eating away at your sanity. You tap your foot incessantly when you stand still and pace frequently from one side of the bay to another when you’re in motion, still attempting to decipher Rex’s cryptic message.

And finally (right on time, you vaguely register), two ships dock and disembark. One of them you don’t recognize as being a standard GAR ship–rather, it’s an Omicron-class attack shuttle. Is that what Rex wanted you here for? Some starship? A flash of irritation crosses through your mind as you strain to see the people getting off.

You recognize the Generals facing away from you: Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Windu. But they’re blocking your view of anyone else. You drop your gaze and see Rex’s legs in their classic blue armor as well as someone standing next to him, but you can’t tell who.

The Jedi turn to walk away and finally you can see who they were talking to. You make your way to them quickly. You don’t recognize any of the men but Rex, making you even more confused as to why he called you here.

“Rex?” you call tentatively and he turns around from his conversation to acknowledge you.

Your jaw drops as you take in the sight. The cybernetic legs instead of skin and bone, the scomp link as a replacement for a right hand, the red skull on his armor, the implants dotting his head, his face tired and haggard. His face is exactly like the clones you see everyday, but something about the recognition that lights up in his sunken eyes tells you that it’s still him.

“It’s you,” you whisper in shock, staring blatantly at the man you fell in love with during the midst of a galactic war. The man who found you, the man you lost.

The man you couldn’t save.

Echo gapes at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to have turned up. He glances behind you at Rex in question before meeting your eyes, seemingly finding his answer.

“Hi, Astro,” he murmurs, voice deep and unused as if he just awoke from a restful night of sleep. For a moment, everything is at a standstill. No one dares to even say a word as you stand in front of each other, unsaid conversations hanging in the air. The wind breezes across your face, a gentle caress as if to say it’s okay. He’s real.

“Echo,” you breathe and throw your arms around him tightly, the shellshocked tears finally streaming down your face. You don’t give a damn about who’s watching, too wrapped in the fact that he’s home, Echo’s home, with me, in my arms.

I will never let you go again.

Echo curls his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, burying his face into your neck as he mumbles your name in what sounds like relief. You hear a choking sob, but whether it’s ripped out of you or out of Echo, you don't care.

“I’m back, I’m here. I’m here,” Echo chants it religiously, pressing his quiet promises into your searing skin and engraving it within. Whether he’s reassuring you or himself, you can’t tell. The plastoid armor cuts uncomfortably into your arms as you hug him, but the pain grounds you from cloud nine.

When Echo died, you and Fives became inseparable, always accompanying each other in quiet support. Both of you were your closest connection to Echo. And then when Fives disappeared, you felt like you lost your fragile tether completely, just floating along like broken space debris. No purpose, no happiness. Just existing within a vacuum void with no life, no resolve, no motivation.

You gently push him away then, taking his gaunt face into your hands to examine him. Your fingers hesitantly touch the implants in his head, and you let out a pained sigh at the slight frown his mouth curves into. Echo’s eyes are sullen, exhausted, but you see his determination as clear as day.

“What have they done to you, Echo?”

He doesn’t respond, instead observing you himself, noticing the darkness under your eyes and your slightly unkempt look, very unlike the prim and proper person he left behind. The brightness in your eyes has dulled, and he sees his own fatigue mirrored in your soul. Echo’s heart aches at the thought.

You take a step back from him, and he loosens his hold on you. You look behind him to see four men–clones, you realize in surprise as you peer closer.

“This is Clone Force 99,” Rex introduces you to them as Echo steps to your right to let you see them fully. “They helped rescue Echo.”

You study each one of them in curiosity as they introduce themselves to you. Clearly, there’s something different about them–you can see it in the way they carry themselves. You shake each one of their hands, reiterating your gratitude again and again.

“Thank you, all of you. I wish I could repay you in some way for rescuing him. You really don’t know how much this means to me,” you say, genuine appreciation coloring your voice. Hunter gives you a knowing smile.

“Anytime! Busting those clankers up is our speciality,” he grins and you can’t help but laugh at his happy demeanor. It kind of reminded you of Fives. A shadow of sadness passes over you, but you push it away quickly.

“Actually, there is something you may be able to do for us,” Tech pipes up. Your eyebrows raise and you gesture for him to continue, noticing Crosshair’s smirk that he makes no effort in suppressing. You weren’t exactly expecting a request at this very moment, but you don’t mind fulfilling it. It’s the least I can do. You hear Rex and Echo quietly laugh behind you.

“You’re an engineer, yes?” Tech inquires, adjusting his goggles to study you. You nod in affirmation.

“Good. I am in need of your services. We seem to be having a slight problem with the suspension support system…” he moves towards the Omicron-class attack shuttle and you follow in his footsteps, leaving the rest of Clone Force 99 and Echo and Rex slightly behind to talk amongst themselves.

You examine the blueprints on the datapad he hands you as he talks at what feels like breakneck speed. “When I pilot the Marauder–” ah, so that’s what it’s called. “–the steering feels quite sluggish and is difficult to handle when we’re in the midst of battle. I deduced it’s due to the suspension, but I can’t seem to pinpoint the exact location nor the nature of the problem even after looking over these schematics for a few hours.”

You hum in response as you scan the diagnostics before finding the issue easily in a matter of a few moments.

“Ah! Don’t worry Tech, this is a very simple fix. You need to realign the thrusters and make sure they’re properly connected to the steering shaft. I suggest taking a look at the control arms too–the thruster hinges that connect to the frame look like they’ve been through a lot, so maybe consider replacing them? I think I’ve got a couple of spare ones in my shop if you want,” you advise, handing the datapad back to him. Tech stares at you, mouth agape as he absentmindedly accepts the datapad.

You simply smile and turn around to see everyone else losing it after watching the exchange. Even Crosshair has cracked a smile, something clearly rare based on his aloof attitude. Puzzled, you ask, “What’s so funny?”

Hunter, bless him, takes mercy on you and explains dutifully. “Tech has been trying to fix that for at least two hours and you figured out the problem in thirty seconds. No one has ever been able to beat Tech at something he knows practically everything about.”

You huff out a light laugh of surprise. “Well, it is my job to fix and repair starships. It would be pretty bad if I wasn’t able to diagnose issues as soon as I got them,” you point out. Hunter nods in agreement as the laughter slowly begins to die down.

“So, I’m assuming you all are getting medals, right? I mean you’ve clearly pulled off an amazing and incredibly difficult mission,” you ask, glancing from one clone to the next, your gaze landing on Echo.

“Not… really our thing,” Tech shrugs.

“Accolades,” Crosshair concurs, mouth moving around the toothpick that seems to be permanently present.

"Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo!" Wrecker grins, pumping his fist into the air.

Hunter turns to Echo. "You sure it's… your thing?"

You steal a glance at Echo as the confusion dances across his face. "What do you mean?"

"Your path is different," Hunter elaborates before letting out a chuckle. "Like ours."

You can practically see the gears turning in Echo's head as he processes Hunter's underlying message. You stay silent.

"If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well… find us.” Hunter inclines his head to the team, and Tech, Crosshair, and Wrecker give you all a nod of goodbye. And with that, you watch Clone Force 99 retire back to their ship, leaving you, Echo, and Rex behind to watch.

“Those are some of the finest troopers I’ve ever fought alongside,” Rex states. He pauses for a moment before placing his hand on Echo’s shoulder, shaking him out of his train of thought.

“Echo.”

He turns to look at him.

“You and I go way back. If that’s where you feel your place is… then that’s where you belong,” Rex asserts, eyes roaming Echo’s conflicted face. You can’t fight the sad smile that appears on your lips. Even through all the pain he’s gone through, Rex always puts his friends–his brothers–first.

Rex rotates slightly to face you. “And if you would like to accompany him, Astro… I can make it happen.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, not believing your ears. Is he serious? You and Echo glance at each other then, an instantaneous unspoken agreement settling into the space between you. Rex pats both of your shoulders and departs.

You and Echo follow Clone Force 99’s path, each step of yours carrying you closer and closer to the unknown. You’re about to leave behind everything.

Your right hand brushes against Echo’s left one.

Well, not quite everything.

And when you all turn around to see Rex one last time and salute to him, you know that no matter what, it will be okay because Echo’s beside you. Right where he should be.

---

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 📍 (you are here!) | part +1

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[jedi-lothwolf]

Familiar chapter one

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: Pabu was eerily familiar to CX-2. Clone Force 99 felt like someone to him. Why they mattered, he couldn't remember.

Notes: Spoilers for the episode Point of No Return

Chapter two: Research of the Past (coming soon)

  Why was Pabu so, familiar? That was the only question going through CX-2's head. It felt like he should care about it and its people; like somewhere deep down, he didn't want to be there to hurt someone.

    Still, he was there to find the target. A girl named Omega was an m-count target, so he had to take her to Tantus. It shouldn't feel so wrong. Just like fighting Ct-9904 shouldn't have felt like a betrayal to himself.

    Seeing the pirate was already so eerily familiar. Being in her presence made him smile and he felt warm. Her sweet but sassy voice, her beautiful hair, they seemed like they meant something to him. Maybe they had.

    CX-2' stood on the wall that separated lower and upper Pabu. There, near the water, was the Havoc Marauder. It was the ship that the group of rogue clones flew and from the information that the man had, lived out of. It was a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle. Ct-9902 had made the changes to the ship.

    Maybe there was a reason CX-2 hesitated to shoot the ship. By the ramp, Ct-9903 stood. The man had been named Wrecker, which fit him well. There was something unsettling about the thought of him blowing up, like he had personal feelings about. Maybe that was why he shot the ship's wing where he did.

    It was easy to see and it wasn't in his blind spot. Seeing him notice the explosive and grab the power droid and jump away from his home, made blowing the ship up slightly easier. It shouldn't have.

    Why was he so reluctant to hurt them? Clone Force 99 were traitors. The Bad Batch had killed imperial soldiers and officers, they had destroyed the empires properly. Killing them, would be good for the galaxy, yet CX-2 hesitated to do so.

    So he walked away. Finding Omega was his mission. Destroying the Marauder was to ensure they stayed on the planet. Making the call to be ready to burn the island and its people to the ground, was not one he had wanted to make.

    There was a place near the top of the mountain. Maybe, CX-2 thought, I should go up there. Maybe the girl would be there.

    The leaves of the tree that stood on the platform swayed. It was a beautiful and proud Weeping Maya Tree. Near the top of the mountain was a communal space. Walking inside, the man looked around for the target. The room was filled with artifacts.

    A jade tree sat on a shelf that almost made him smile. Shaking it off, his eyes scanned the shelves and landed on a stuffed Tooka doll and a pair of shattered goggles.

    CX-2 took a step back. Then he walked towards the shelf. With much kinder hands than he had been treated with, he picked up the goggles and stared at them. The weight of the glasses in his hands was uncomfortably familiar.

    Startled, he laid them back down. Looking at the doll, CX-2's breath started to catch and tears welled in his eyes. The name of the Tooka was on the top of his tongue and he knew it shouldn't be.

    When he woke up, Hemlock had told him who he was didn't matter. He had said that he had been an imperial soldier who had amnesia from his last mission. When he asked what his name was, he was told it was CX-2. Something always felt wrong about that.

    Removing his helmet, CX-2 placed it beside the googles. Picking up the stuffed toy, he pulled it closer to him. "L-" her name was the only thing he could think about. With his mission long forgotten, he tried to piece the rest of the tooka's name together.

    "Lula?"

    The room was silent. The lighting was warmer than he had remembered and all the noise of the outside had disappeared. Without the helmet, everything was blurry. However it felt like CX-2 could see clearer than he had remembered.

    The reason he hated the thought of hurting Clone Force 99, the reason he knew Lula's name, the reason the pira- liberator of ancient wonders was important to him; he had known them. The people had been something to him at some point in his life. But who were they?

    CX-2 needed to know. Still holding Lula, he stood there overwhelmed by his discovery. As his breathing continued to speed up, he sat on the floor. Clutching the doll he tried to think. Where did he go from here?

    The man could go back to the empire and complete him mission or he could lie and say that he had made a mistake, leave, and escape come his next assignment. Staying and fighting for the empire meant he would likely never get his answers. However, staying with them also meant he would survive.

    Standing, the man set Lula down next to the googles. Clearing the tears from his face, he placed him helmet back on his head and reached from his comm. Then he let his hand fall back to his side. If someone had already found her and he told them she wasn't on the island, he'd be killed for treason.

    Finding Omega became his next objective. While that may have already been his mission, now he only intended to keep her safe. Leaving the building, CX-2 sighed. In truth he was scared. He knew what Hemlock could and would do to him if he was caught.

    But he needed to know who he was. Learning who these people were to him meant betraying what he knew. Committing an act of treason didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.

    Walking though the streets of Pabu, he ordered the flame throwers to be put down. There was no need just yet to burn down the island.

    Almost twenty minutes later, CX-2 found the girl. She stood in the middle of the street, ready to give herself up for the safety of the people. Before she got a chance to give herself away, the clone grabbed her and pulled her away from the street. "Shhhh."

    Confused Omega was silent.

    "You are an adolescent. I am going to inform the others that I was mistaken in identifying you. Stay hidden."

    "What?" Was all Omega could think of saying.

    "You are a child, I will not subject you to the experiments of Tantiss. You will be safe here once I'm through with my tasks."

    Taking the alley, Omega asked "where is it?"

    "What?"

    "Tantiss. I need to know."

    "Where Tantiss is, is of no concern to you. I need you to stay hidden."

    Ignoring him, Omega asked again. "I'll walk into the street and give myself up right now. If you really want to keep me safe, you'll tell me."

    "One day you will know. Currently, it is safer this way. Accept the opportunity that it being given to you. It is not the time."

    "Then when is?"

    "When you have a plan."

    "I have a plan! I-"

    "Is it a good one?"

    Omega was silent. "Fine."

    "Find a place to hide."

    The girl nodded. While she was sceptical of the sleeper agent's intentions, at least Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair wouldn't be so worried.

    Walking away, CX-2 reached for his comm. "I had mistaken a similar looking civilian for the girl. The target is not here." He sighed. "Gather your men and be ready to leave."

    "Yes sir."

    Hoping this risk would pay off, the man pondered what answers The Bad Batch could have for him. Soon, he would have his answer. Maybe while he waited for his next mission, he should do most digging into who these people really are.

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Clone Wars: The Bad Batch

Part 1 of the Clone Wars Bad Batch arc with my OC: Specter! Hope you stick around and keep reading! (This has been edited, thoroughly)

“I’ve heard mixed things about these guys.”

“They have a 100% success rate.” Jesse and Kix conversed as Rex and Cody exited the dormitory. 

Their mission? Infiltrate the Cyber Center on Anaxes and retrieve whatever was rendering the Grand Army of the Republic’s attack patterns completely ineffective. 

“It’s not that they win, it’s how they win that worries me,” Jesse said. 

“Repeat, coming in hot on platform TT-3-9-7.” An announcement over the P. A. system caught the clones’ attention just as an Omicron-class attack shuttle came into view, rapidly approaching the landing strip. All personnel scrambled to get out of the way as it roughly landed, sending loose crates flying away. “Clear the airfield! Clear the airfield!” the clone over the P.A. warned. The shuttle came to a stop only a few meters away from Rex, Cody, Kix, and Jesse, kicking up a cloud of dust. 

“So, why haven’t I heard of this squad?” Rex asked the commander, already second guessing his decision. 

“Experimental unit Clone Force 99. They’re defective clones with, uh,” Cody paused to look for the right description, “desirable mutations.” 

“99, eh? Nice touch,” Rex commented, remembering the old clone.

“They call themselves, ‘The Bad Batch’,” Cody crossed his arms. With a track record like theirs, Cody knew they were the clear choice for this mission. 

Stairs lowered from the ship and the five members of the Bad Batch exited; the tallest and biggest one was the first to take off his helmet. 

“The cavalry has arrived!” he cheered in a big booming voice. Jesse and Kix exchanged looks— he certainly didn’t look like a regular clone. The Bad Batch approached the group, two more of them removed their helmets: one with long brown hair and a tattoo covering half his face, and the other with a longer face and short gray hair, complete with a toothpick stuck in his scowl. 

“These guys are clones?” Kix murmured. Another Batcher took his helmet off: he had goggles and an inquisitive expression. “They don’t look like clones to me.” 

The smallest clone in the group caught Rex’s attention. Of the batch, he was the only one who hadn’t removed his helmet. Rex couldn’t quite place just what was so curious about the way this mystery-clone carried himself and the odd fit of his armor. 

“Sergeant. Good to see you again,” Cody greeted.

“You too, sir.”

Cody turned to the rest of his group. “This is Hunter.”

“Sorry we’re late, Commander. We were putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen… complications,” Hunter explained, side-eyeing the big guy, who laughed in response.

“Ever fought a male Yalbec?” he asked, deciding to focus on Jesse.

“Um… No. Can’t say that I have,” he stammered. 

“You’re lucky! Only way to kill ‘em is with one of these,” the brute said, pulling out a large knife. Jesse gulped.

“That’s right. Wrecker here cut off the queen’s stinger while she was still alive. That’s why all those Yalbec males tried to eat us,” Hunter said. 

“Ah, technically they were trying to mate with us,” the one with the goggles spoke up. “And, for your information, the stinger of a Yalbec Queen is a delicacy on some planets.”

“They call him Tech,” Cody said. 

“Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours. Crosshair, on the other hand,” Hunter started to say, pointing back to the scowling clone, “is not much of a conversationalist, but when you have to hit a precise target from ten klicks, Crosshair’s your man.” Crosshair shifted his toothpick, analyzing the four clones through squinted eyes. “And finally, Specter— where’s Specter?” Hunter looked around. The smallest clone was out of sight. 

When did that happen? Rex wondered, realizing he hadn’t registered the trooper’s exit. 

He reappeared, tapping Kix on the shoulder and handing him the scanner he’d left back at the barracks. 

“What in the…” he took the datapad apprehensively. The trooper wordlessly went to stand next to Hunter, with his arms crossed and head tilted. The Sergeant chuckled.

“Specter, here, is our secondary sniper and assassin when we need it: covert, fast, and light-footed. I think the sprint record was about—oh, what was it again?” he paused to ask, although Rex could tell this was nothing more than an opportunity for the pair to show off. Specter said nothing, only holding up five fingers. “Right, fifty kilometers an hour, with reflexes just as fast,” Hunter finished.

Rex, Jesse, and Kix tried to hide their amazement while Cody shook his head and smiled. 

“We playin’ the long game, Specter?” he asked. The soldier nodded while the other Batchers smirked. It made the other two somewhat uneasy.

“So, Commander,” Hunter turned back to Cody, “what kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?” 

“Let’s get going first. We’ll brief you on the way,” Cody instructed, leading the other eight clones to the awaiting gunship. 

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

It was cramped in the gunship as they flew over the forests of Anaxes. Though the one they called Specter still hadn’t removed his helmet, Jesse could feel he was being watched through the dim red light. 

“What are you looking at?”

“We don’t usually work with regs,” the one called Crosshair chimed in before Specter could speak, flicking his toothpick at him. 

“Regs?” Jesse scoffed, shifting towards the pair before Hunter blocked his way. 

“He’s talking about regular clones. It’s nothing personal.” Specter shrugged behind him, seeming to share a look with Crosshair. Jesse wasn’t sure he liked this bunch.

“Hey now, We’re all on the same team, so cut the attitude and listen up,” Cody announced. The clones stood at attention, even Specter from their small spot in the side. “Here’s the mission: Our target is this Cyber Center,” Cody pulled up a holographic display of the complex. “It’s the brains of the entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes.”

“I could demolish that with one hand. Yeah!” Wrecker jeered. Everyone rolled their eyes.

“This isn’t a demo job, Wrecker. It’s strictly a retrieval operation,” Cody reminded. 

“Incoming fire!” the pilot inside the ship yelled. Their presence had clearly not gone unnoticed. Everyone inside was thrown around as blaster bolts struck the sides of the ship and the pilot attempted evasive maneuvers out of the canyon. The front of the ship was struck by a blast, and the team braced themselves for a crash into the canyon.

“We’re going down!” Wrecker yelled, almost excitedly. The gunship scraped against the canyon wall before sliding along the bottom, finally lurching to a stop. 

Amid the smoke and rubble, Wrecker used his strength to help his fellow troopers out of the crash. “We always get shot down when we travel with regs,” he said, almost teasing.

His comment went unheard as Kix spotted Cody still stuck underneath the gunship.

“Cody!” he cried, rushing to his aid. “Help! He’s trapped. We have to do something.”

“I’ll get him,” Rex rushed forward.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hunter stopped him. “Easy, Captain. Wrecker, get him out.” The brute nodded and cracked his knuckles.

“Get back,” he said. Everyone stepped back as he approached the ship.

“This is ridiculous! He’s gonna need help to get Cody out of there,” Kix complained. Crosshair chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s gonna get the gunship out of there, not Cody,” he explained, pointing with his toothpick. 

And just like he said, Wrecker, with his helmet back on his head, pushed the gunship over and out of the way; he carried Cody out from the wreckage and to the rest of the group. 

“Boom,” Wrecker quipped, just before the gunship exploded behind him. Cody wheezed and groaned; Wrecker put him down on the ground so Kix could scan his chest.

“He has internal damage. I can cut the pain, but he needs help fast,” he announced.

“We all need help,” Crosshair drawled, noticing a large force of battle droids approaching their position. “That blast gave away our position.” Hunter gave a short laugh.

“I thought getting shot down gave away our position,” he said with a smirk.

“Everyone, find cover. We’ll hold this position and let them come to us,” Rex ordered.

“I don’t think so, Captain. That’s not our style. We prefer going to them,” Hunter enunciated, pointing defiantly at the oncoming droids. “Bad Batch, Plan 82: Shockwave!” he ordered, putting on his helmet, his team followed suit. Wrecker hoisted up a large piece of the metal wreckage. “Let’s get to work.” The group ran towards the battle droids.

“Blast them!” a droid commanded. Wrecker’s piece of debris was placed in front of the team, acting as cover from the barrage of fire so they could keep advancing. Tech, Hunter, Crosshair, and Specter fired at the droids as they went. 

“Specter, watch our flank,” Hunter commanded.

“Copy,” the soldier’s voice was distorted. What must’ve been a faulty modulator made whatever Specter said next completely unintelligible. 

As the droids grew closer, Specter attached a heavily modified barrel to the end of his blaster, converting it into what could best be described as a shotgun. 

He loaded the weapon, inserting projectile shells into the ammo chamber, fired, and as the shells impacted against the droids, they exploded; weaponized plasma launched and propelled the inner pellets outward in a spray of death. It was like a firework as droids who were caught up in the blast were destroyed.

After the Bad Batch had gained some distance, Wrecker planted the makeshift shield down, allowing for Tech to peek out and scan the droids with his goggles. 

“45. Mark 151,” Tech relayed to Hunter.

“45. Mark 151,” he copied, pulling out an EMP grenade and throwing it high into the air. Crosshair shot it as it fell, disabling a group of droids. The team advanced again, Wrecker planted the shield once more.

“75. Mark 357.”

“75. Mark 357.” Tech and Hunter, respectively, relayed. Hunter threw the grenade, this time at a lower angle, but a battle droid had caught it.

“What the…?” the droid began to say before Crosshair shot the EMP, desemating an even larger group of battle droids. Spider droids entered the fray, firing near the Bad Batch as they moved forward.

“Spider droids. Specter, they’re all yours. We’ll cover you,” Hunter said, handing Specter his vibro-knife. Wrecker shifted the piece of metal, allowing Specter to speed through the rest of the battle droids, stabbing a few as he went by, towards the spider droid, dodging as it took shots at him. But the clone was too fast for the droid to accurately aim. He was soon in front of the spider droid, stabbing its eye and shutting it down. Then using the knife as a handle, Specter hoisted themselves up and reconfigured their blaster back to its original form before unleashing a rapid-fire setting on the second spider droid, completely mutilating it. The rest of the Bad Batch had destroyed the remaining battle droids and advanced to Specter’s position. 

“Any more? Come on!” Wrecker cheered in victory. Specter hopped down from the spider droid and handed Hunter his knife, who twirled it back into its sheath. With all of the droids defeated, the Bad Batch went to regroup among the broken droid pieces. The other clones made their way over, with Kix supporting Cody.

“That was some show you put on just now,” Rex complimented.

Hunter took off his helmet and nodded, “Just doing our job, Captain.” Behind him, Wrecker was playing with a dead droid head, laughing.

“Hey look, Crosshair, this little clanker likes you,” he teased, waving it in his squadmate’s face.

“Grow up, Wrecker,” the sniper said grumpily. Meanwhile, Tech and Specter were leaning close, observing something on his forearm monitor.

“Yes, your damage efficiency has increased since we made those last modifications. All in part, of course, to my engineering expertise,” Tech practically bragged. Specter silently turned his head toward him. Tech somehow understood the clone’s hidden expression and quickly modified his statement. “Fine. Our engineering expertise,” Tech sighed, giving Specter the proper credit; he nodded his head in triumph.

“We should move out before reinforcements arrive. Our position has been compromised,” Rex said, motioning for everyone to follow him out of the canyon.

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

The clones had their camp set up in the forest, Rex tended to Cody, Hunter investigated the ground nearby, and the other 6 were gathered around a warm light source. Jesse sighed.

“So, I get what makes the other Batchers unique, but what’s so special about Hunter?” he wondered out loud.

“He can put up with the other four,” Kix joked. 

“He was engineered with heightened senses,” Tech stated, kneeling down and warming his hands by the light, “A place like the Cyber Center, Hunter can feel the electromagnetic frequencies from anywhere on the planet.”

“And here I thought we were smart just using a holomap,” Jesse jeered, elbowing Kix.

“Well, maps can be wrong. Hunter never is,” the Batcher said, turning to look at his Sergeant as he stood up. 

Cody groaned, still in pain, catching everyone’s attention.

“Hang in there, Cody.” Rex encouraged his comrade. The captain stood up and went toward the group. “Listen up. We have to move out,” he commanded.

“Commander Cody’s in no position to move,” Crosshair said, stepping forward and removing his toothpick.

“Already called in Evac. Kix will stay with Cody until it arrives.” Rex indicated toward the medic, who nodded in agreement over his role. “I’m in charge now, and I’ve got a plan to get into that Cyber Center.” The sniper stepped even closer, challenging the reg.

“If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?” he sneered. Wrecker moved closer too, sensing a fight. But it was Jesse who shot up and got in Crosshair’s face, pointing at him.

“You can’t talk to Captain Rex like that!”

“Says who?” Wrecker grumbled, almost with glee; he lifted Jesse up by the throat into the air, who immediately started to flail.

“Put him down!” Rex ordered. Kix went to intervene, but Crosshair pushed him away.

“Stay out of it,” he hissed. 

“Hey, watch it!” Kix pushed back; the two began to wrestle with each other.

“Uh, guys, come on,” Tech pleaded, staying out of the fight. Finally, Specter stood up and growled, taking off his—her— helmet and marching toward the chaos.

“That’s enough!” she shouted, using her helmet to hit Wrecker on the side of his head, knocking him off balancing and forcing him to release Jesse. She stalked over to Crosshair and Kix, grabbing the sniper by his ear. Her free hand reached up to pull down Wrecker by his ear too. The boys cried in pain and struggled in her grip. The regs caught their breath and watched the scene unfold.

“I swear, your egos are going to get us Court Martialed! Have you ever thought that maybe–just maybe–if you’d humble yourselves for one mission, it would go off without a hitch?! Heh, it’s no wonder the regs don’t like us.” she scolded. Tech sat back down, trusting his teammate to handle it. “If you would stop provoking fights, we wouldn’t need to keep cleaning up our own mess. Not like you clean up anyway,” Specter mumbled the last remark. They went to protest.

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” She pulled them closer, they grunted then silenced themselves. “Think about this very carefully; would you rather deal with me, or Hunter?” The boys grimaced and looked at each other, before deciding to hold their hands up in surrender. Specter huffed and dropped them, picking up her helmet. “Honestly, Crosshair, I’m almost embarrassed to call you my twin,” she mumbled, glaring at the sniper. He only frowned and turned away. “Thanks to you idiots, I’ve lost my bet with Tech. I’ll pay you once we get back to the Marauder,” she turned to the goggled clone who merely gave a triumphant thumbs up. 

The regs were still shocked at the presence of the woman. Her skin was fair and eyes were brown, chestnut hair was styled into a braided halo, although a few strands had fallen into her face. She may have been small and feminine, but she held herself with confidence and strength they had only seen in their other brethren. 

“What?” Jesse was the first to vocalize, running a hand over his bruised neck.

“Oh! Yeah, Tech and I had a bet to see if I could go the whole mission without giving myself away,” Specter explained, her voice turning sweet and jovial, compared to being full of disdain at her squadmates. This was the ‘long game’ Cody had mentioned before. 

“Not that. You’re… uh,” Kix tried to find the words.

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” Wrecker teased. Crosshair smacked him on the arm. Specter only laughed and gave a bow.

“The Kaminoans wanted a clone that was fast and flexible, they got me and they’re stuck with me. These idiots are also stuck with me,” she gestured over her shoulder to her team. “And now, you guys are stuck with me too!” Specter pointed at the regs and winked. Hunter came up to the group, saving Jesse, Rex, and Kix from any more awkwardness.

“If you’re all done, let’s cut the chatter and finish what we started. We’ll do it your way, Captain,” he said to Rex, whose stoic expression returned. “For Commander Cody.”

“Okay. Let’s gear up and move out.”

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

The clones carefully moved through the forest the following morning; a tower rose in the distance and the clones assessed it under nearby cover.

“Not our primary target,” Rex observed.

“It’s an outpost. Should we take it?” Hunter asked. They saw some droids guarding the entrance of it.

“Probably easier than going around,” the Captain shrugged.

“Alright. What are your orders? We pick ‘em off from the treeline, one-by-one?” 

“Actually, I was thinking we’d take a page from your book. Rush them head-on,” Rex said with a smirk. The Sergeant chuckled.

“I like your style.”

“Hunter, that’s our style,” Specter piped up, reloading her rifle. 

“Yeah, I’m still getting used to that,” Rex mumbled.

The droids remained blissfully unaware of the crew’s presence, maintaining their position. That was, until one was shot down.

“Clones! Get them!” a battle droid shouted, pointing at the oncoming force emerging from the treeline. Firing erupted from both sides, but the clones overtook the droids, making their way to the tower elevator. Wrecker and Specter stayed groundside to provide cover for the others going up the tower. More droids awaited at the top.

“Hey, you’re not authorize-” a droid began before he was shot down. The team made quick work of them, defeating them all just as Wrecker and Specter made it up.

“Is it over already? Aw, man!” he grumbled and pouted, taking off his helmet. The rest of the clones followed suit. 

“Not bad, for a reg,” Hunter complimented Rex. Tech approached a nearby console and sat down.

“All right, there it is. The Cyber Center,” Rex pointed to a building out the window. Specter whistled in amazement.

“Yeah, that would have been a fun demo job,” she said to herself, earning a few worried looks.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Wrecker exclaimed in agreement.

“It looks like the Cyber Center itself has minimal guards, about 30 droids,” Tech reported, looking at the data from the console. “Oh… wait. Wait! I got a massive signal coming in,” he warned, widening the range of the detection signal. “A whole platoon of droids is headed this way.”

“Someone’s noticed our handiwork back at the crash site,” Hunter grumbled.

“Yeah. Make sure you keep an eye on those incoming Separatist forces. I wanna know when they reach this outpost,” Rex ordered Tech.

“You got it, Cap.”

“We gotta move swiftly,” Rex looked to the rest of the group. 

“There’s some speeder bikes down there. Think we can pull off a pincer maneuver, Sarge? Flank them from the back?” Specter nodded to the bikes. Hunter and Rex smiled at her plan.

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

At the Cyber Center, Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech rode the speeder bikes around the back of the center, then hopped off the bikes and slid down an incline, leading to the building. Rex, Jesse, and Specter approached the heavily guarded front.

“Do you know what’s going on?” one battle droid asked another.

“Maybe it’s another drill-” it was cut off as the regs and Specter ambushed them. 

“Is everyone in position?” Rex asked into his comm. Jesse and Specter continued to shoot down droids and advance on the center.

“Affirmative,” Hunter answered for him, Tech, and Wrecker.

“Affirmative,” said Crosshair, who had taken a sniping position on a nearby cliff.

“Captain,” Tech spoke up, “you wanted to know when those Separatist forces breached the outpost.” He looked at a tracker on his wrist monitor; red dots, representing battle droids, surrounded the outpost. “Well, they’re getting there just about now.”

Specter took aim with her reconfigured sniper rifle, shooting down a droid talking with Admiral Trench. It signaled Jesse and Rex to also open fire on the droids. Rex threw a grenade, taking out a large group of them, also taking cover behind a pile of crates. Crosshair also assisted, taking out droids from a distance. 

“All units to the front door!” a battle droid from the back entrance commanded. The droids ran towards the front, leaving the back entrance wide open for the rest of the Bad Batch. Tech began working on opening the door.

“Hmm. This is a delicate operation,” he observed. Wrecker kicked the door open.

“Boom! Ha ha, you take too long.” Tech shook his head as his squadmate pried the door open. The team shot down more droids as they made their way further into the center. They reached a command station, quickly blasting the droids inside.

“Tech, get to work on these computers. We’ll go get the regs and Specter,” Hunter ordered. Tech did so while Hunter and Wrecker went to the front door. Meanwhile, Rex, Jesse, and Specter were making their way closer to the entrance, pushing the battle droids back until they were ambushed from behind by Hunter and Wrecker. With most of the droids destroyed, Rex, Jesse, and Specter approached the entrance and joined the other two in holding their position.

“What took you so long, Wrecker?” Specter teased.

“Hey, this is a ‘delicate operation’,” he replied. A loud noise caused them to notice a large droid transport approaching them. “Better get in there, Cap,” Wrecker advised. Rex ran back inside while the other four held their position and fired relentlessly at the deployed droids. Specter reconfigured her blaster to its shotgun form. 

“I have got to get me one of those,” Jesse commented.

Back inside, Rex found Tech working on the computer.

“Okay, I’m in. What am I looking for?”

“Here’s the algorithm,” Rex handed him the chip, taking off his helmet. “You’re looking for a program using this sequence.” Tech plugged in the chip and began working.

“Found it,” he announced after a moment. Holograms popped up above the table. “This is strange. It’s not a program. It’s a live signal from another planet… Skako Minor.”

“A live signal?” Rex wondered. 

Meanwhile outside, the battle droids continued to advance on the four clones, who were backed behind some crates. 

“Crosshair, we’re gonna need a lift,” Hunter said into his communicator. 

The sniper looked around for transportation and found a speeder, guarded by only a few droids.

“Not gonna be a problem,” Crosshair reported.

Inside the complex—

“Here it is. This is audible,” Tech said, finding a way to tap into the signal he found traced. 

“Patch it through. I want to hear it,” Rex ordered. Tech played the audio.

“What is that?” he wondered. They both listened intently for a moment. “It sounds almost… almost human.” Rex’s eyes were wide.

“It can’t be…”

“We gotta go, now!” Hunter ordered the other three. One by one they slipped inside, providing cover fire for each other as they began to make their way through the halls.

“Tech, find out who’s sending that signal. Ask who that is,” Rex said. Tech typed something into the console. The audio signal began to reply, repeating its answer.

“CT-1409.” 

The Captain went pale. “I… I don’t believe it.” The other four clones appeared in the room.

“We’re gone. Rex, let’s go,” Hunter said, urgently. Rex didn’t move, even as Tech brushed past him. “Rex, now!” He snapped out of it and put his helmet on, joining the others in escape, still pursued by droids. More droids waited for them outside, but Crosshair arrived in time with the transport speeder, pausing just long enough for all of them to hop on before they sped away.

Silence was heavy in the transport until the crew was safe and out of sight in the wilderness. It was then Tech chose to ask Rex a question. 

“That number, Captain, what did it mean?”

“CT-1409,” Rex paused, “that was Echo’s number. He’s alive.”

OMG thank you so much if you've read this far. This is the first time I've published anything anywhere so I'm really proud of what I've accomplished and really hope you (the dearest reader) continue to enjoy my story and OC! Stay tuned for more of Specter

[cuddles-with-dragons]

More info about the Foundling AU told in conversations

*after buying a Omicron-class attack shuttle* Hunter: So, what should we name her? Wrecker: Serenity? Tech: Enterprise? Crosshair: Your names suck. Havoc Marauder.

*Fixing the Marauder* Tech: Crosshair, have you done anything productive? Crosshair, stepping aside and showing off the Mythosaur he painted on the side: Is this not productive?

Omega: *Force chokes a Stormtrooper* Crosshair: *stares in horror* Hunter: ...Right. Omega is kinda... magic.

Omega: *snuggles up against Crosshair* Crosshair: *dad mode activates* *pulls her closer*

Cal: *feels a disturbance in the Force* Merrin, something's wonky. *Meanwhile, on the other side of the same planet* Omega: *getting super freaked out and failing to calm down a angry nexu*

Cal: Hi, what's up? Crosshair & Hunter: *aiming their blasters at him* Cal: ...Uh, I kinda felt something weird in the Force. Are either of you Force-sensitive? Crosshair: ...What the FUCK does that mean?

*Din and Crosshair meet for the first time* Din: ...hi... Crosshair: *protective instincts activate*

Crosshair & Din: *Chatting about something random* Quill: *goes into annoying little sister mode* I'm about to ruin this man's entire career conversation.

[badbatch-badfics]

Thief (TBB x Male Reader) Part 1

Characters: TBB + Phee, but it's mainly you stealing from them for 90% of it

Relationship: Enemies

POV: 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: He/him. The horn pattern (as in thick or thin lines defining your sex) and the hair color are not mentioned, so it's trans-inclusive as far as Imps go lmfao. 

Species: Helluva Boss type Imp- imagined the Imps with digitigrade legs and claws for your legs, and I haven't watched Helluva in a whileeeee.  Like, at least a year or more.  Nothing about Hell is mentioned, so you're just another species, so to speak.  Also, you obviously have red skin.  But I occasionally put in a [shade] so it’s not totally limited and you can still be you (more or less). 

Content: You’re stealing shit??

Warnings: You stealing shit, Wrecker throws you, Hunter threatens you. Cringe lol

Word count: 2,588

You glanced around the pub, checking on the targets for what felt like the millionth time.  When will they get moving?  Your employer had sent you on a rather vague mission, ordering you to scrounge “anything that seemed of value,” and to “keep an eye out for a band of four adult men and one little girl.”  Unspecified by your employer, there was another member- an adult woman, a pirate, so it would seem.  Apparently, if you could lose the little misfit band and find their ship, it would hold wonders of great value- credit wise.  A war modified Omicron class attack shuttle, with more war supplies inside- enough for four men and a child- would be a complete jackpot.  And, Maker, were you thankful.  Even if you didn’t get the direct riches, the reputation and rank would more than suffice.

Obviously, any jackpot is rather risky, and you were not looking forward to it.  That much was evident by the swaying and twitching of your tail.  But, hey, if you could do it well, there would be an abundance of awards.  But before anyone could make a grab for anything, you needed to make sure they were far away from the ship- which would be far easier if your employers had provided some help.  But, to be fair, since when was anyone's employer ever fair?

Finally, the group got up and left- the young girl happily skipping along, talking about heading to the market to buy an assortment of small trinkets.  Perfect.  You waited a few minutes until they were certainly gone before heading up to the bar, credits in hand.  “So…” you began, “That group- the one with the big guy, droid guy, skull tattoo, googles, the pirate, and a little girl- you know who I mean?”  The Twi’lek bartender nodded his head, lekku slightly bobbing.

“Fantastic, now, for some extra credits, would you be so kind as to point me in their ship’s direction, and perhaps access to the lot…?”  That was certainly the most inconvenient part about the job- the ships’ 'parking’ spaces had fields around them, and you needed the key to get in.  Keys that only the ship’s owner and the bartender had access to.  The Twi’lek raised an eyebrow- unfortunately for you, he seemed to have decent morals.  At least, decent enough to question a rather suspicious looking stranger asking for access to someone else’s ship.  You sighed, and began to explain- “I’m not going to do anything harmful, it’s just a simple grab and retreat- you can watch me through the security cams, or even come with me!  I’m a thief, not a killer, or any other bad things.  Just a thief.  Which is pretty ironic sounding, I know.”  You flashed a smile, trying to appear more honest and trustworthy.  Not that you were lying, anyway.

The Twi’lek scrunched his eyes in contemplation, slowly rubbing one of the dirty glasses.  You were leaning forward, eyes wide, tail swishing in excitement.  Finally, he sighed, before turning to grab the keys to the Marauder.  You quickly slid the credits over, flashing an incredibly toothy grin.  “Remember I am watching you.  If anything happens other than some petty thievery- you won’t be making it out of here in one piece,” he warned, accusingly glaring while pointing the not-at-all threatening cleaning rag at you.

“Trust me, I won’t hurt anyone!  Except for their pockets, I suppose- ha!”  The Twi’lek sighed before explaining the directions to get there, and how to work with the keys.  He shortly returned to his work, as you happily bounded out before remembering to be discreet.  You ducked and swerved, squeezed into tight spaces, hopped over a few fences, and other tasks that were annoying, sure, but not difficult in any way.  Finally, the docking lot came into view, the Marauder in the center, taking up all the glory.  Before stepping into the port, you looked around, pulling down scanner goggles, easily locating all the cameras.  You had said that the bartender could watch you, so scrambling the cameras for the long-run was a no-go.  But, perhaps, you could manage to short them out for only a minute or two, or scramble all of them except the camera over your target.  Keep the promise, and all.

You fished around in your pockets and pouches, seeing what trinkets could be of help.  There must be some sort of protection against scrambling devices, if you could just… “HA!  Yes, this will do,” you whisper-shouted triumphantly, holding up a little stick on device you had crafted yourself, many rotations ago, just in case of a situation like this.  You smiled triumphantly, perhaps feeling too much pride given the circumstances.  You waited for the cameras to drift away before jumping up onto the fence, using your tail to help balance, before jumping up the wall.  Thankfully, whoever designed the lot wanted it to be pretty, considering the intricate carvings swirling here and there.  Unfortunately for the designer, though, anyone with enough claws and skill could use the indents to scale their way up or across the compound- and you had plenty of both.

Carefully, you made your way across until there was a large horizontal pole with a label for the row.  Angling yourself, you quickly leaped and grabbed the pole, swinging before bringing up your legs and balancing on it, one hand wrapped around, the other holding the small device.  Squinting your eyes and focusing, your arm drew back, everything carefully placed.  Then, with a quick motion, you threw the device, which immediately stuck to the camera observing the Marauder.  Grinning, you fished out the scrambling devices, and its remote.  One by one, you tossed the scramblers across the compound, surrounding the perimeter.  As soon as your [shade] red finger touched the button, electricity sparks flew and the cameras slumped down, utterly defeated.  It was almost too easy, which never happened.  There was always some bizarre twist- employers never gave the full story.  You’ll worry about that later.

You wrapped your tail around the pole repeatedly, before lunging down, hands extended to catch your fall.  Quickly bounding back up, you looked around once more before sprinting to the ship.  Looking over your shoulder every five seconds, you inserted the key and twisted it, bringing the field down with a triumphant smile.  You quickly scraped off the plate covering the wires to open the ramp, claws leaving dents.  Well, that’s inconvenient- now they’ll know someone was here- if they’re smart, anyway.  A problem for tomorrow.  Or the next hour, or whenever they show up- especially if the bartender would rat out the plan.  Maybe you shouldn't have compromised with him, promising to let him keep some view on you, ready to give information to the owners of the ship.  Yeah, you would definitely need to get off of this planet soon, especially since your appearance was… unique, to say the least- but it did help that your striped horns were covered, but the long red tail certainly didn't help.

You began hot-wiring the ramp cords, pulling and plugging and making electric connections from one to another, until a satisfying hiss escaped and the ramp began unfolding.  The lights in the ship activated, making the ramp look like some blessed trip to paradise, war equipment and Maker knows what else, all ripe for the taking.  You bounded up the ramp, tail swishing back and forth rapidly in excitement.  Your hand twisted up to grab the large sack from your back, opening it up and getting ready to completely loot the place.

Running back and forth through the ship, you collected bombs, blasters, bits of armor, rations, and what appeared to be someone’s… arms and legs- or, at least, spares.  There was one pair of legs, with a spare foot, and two different arm types- one resembling an actual arm, and the other one seemed to possess a number of tools.  They all looked like they were a work in progress, someone making upgrades to it all, perhaps making  different aspects specific to certain goals or terrain.  You hesitated, arm hovering out.  I mean, it would be pretty cruel to take someone's legs and arms…but the employer would be thrilled…  Sighing, you took the arm with the tools, and left all the other artificial limbs.

You continued forward, picking up a spare set of goggles and a data-pad left on one of the top bunks.  On the other side, one of the bunks held several vibro-knives, which you quickly grabbed.  Those were valuable, and there were no guilty feelings involved- win win.  For you, anyway.  Certainly not the group you were stealing from.  The bag feeling was heavy in your hands, so you figured it was time to bail.  There was enough stuff in here to last you forever- or rather, your employer.  Shame you couldn't just drop out, that the employer would hunt you down and then some.

You tightly sealed the bag, and slung it over your back before walking out to the ramp.  Before stepping out completely, you looked, listened, and smelled for any sign of life, or even some sort of droid under their command.  Nothing was noteworthy, so you put one clawed foot in front of the other as you descended the ramp, quickly un-doing the hot-wiring from before.  It certainly wasn’t a clean job, but you should be able to get out of there before anyone comes back.  Hopefully.

You quickly retraced your steps, until you were far away from the docking lot, and far away from any possibility of the group tracking you.  Again, hopefully.  You carefully made your way to your designated escape escort, being sure to check if anyone suspicious, especially the group you’d just looted, was close behind.  Finally, the view of the transport ship was in sight, the escort waiting, rather impatiently, a scowl on her face as her foot bounced about a ‘hundred miles an hour.  “Sorry I’m late,” you huffed out, lugging the bag into the ship.  “They took forever and then some to leave, and the bartender had better morals than the average- had to plead my innocence- well, my ‘I won’t harm anyone, just their pockets,’ type innocence.”  All she did was grunt back, clearly disinterested.  “Okay, whatever…” you mumbled, sheepishly looking for a place to sit.  Clearly she didn’t care why someone was late, only that they were.  Which was rather annoying, it’s not like them taking forever was your fault.

You quickly settled down into the seat, pulling a latch over yourself as a form of comfort.  Giant hunks of metal soaring through the empty and cold vacuum that was space, in which you would immediately die if suscepted to with no gear, was not your ideal method of transportation.  The ship shook as the engine powered on, the vibration only increasing as it lost contact with the solid ground.  Your hands flew to the sides on the restraint bar, gripping them as hard as possible.

Soon enough, after the ship had left the atmosphere, things calmed down- no more shaking or weird creaking.  Just silence.  It was unclear if noise, or the lack of, was creepier.  Oh well.  You slowly unlatched the bar, figuring that if the ship were to explode in the middle of space, it wouldn't matter if you were strapped in or otherwise.  Carefully standing up, using the wall as support, you began a miniature exploration expedition.  A very miniature one, considering it was just the room you were in and one to the left, the only ones which you had been granted access to.  You were tired, and perhaps the other room had a bed.  Or at least some blankets you could toss together and call a nest.

You opened the door, entering the access code, and much to your complete disappointment- it was empty.  Utterly, completely, so-very, empty.  A deep sigh escaped your lips, shoulders slumping in sync.  So much for that 10-step trip.  You sharply turned around, tail swishing in a mixture of annoyance and boredom.

Unfortunately, before you could make it two steps away, a rough hand grabbed the nape of your neck, hauling you upwards and turning you back to face the assaulter.  A sharp cry escaped, and you pulled your legs and tail into each other, trying to become a small ball hanging involuntarily by the giant mass of a man.  A man, you realized with horror, who was part of the group you had just looted.  That was bad.  You sheepishly raised one hand to wave, smiling in the most last-ditch effort to save your red hide.  Before you could get any pleas out, he roughly tossed you, twisted his own body for extra momentum.  You landed, hard, against the metal wall, black blood trailing down your nose.  A rough cough came out, followed by a copious amount of saliva.  Your hand reached up to wipe it off, the other one underneath you to provide some balance as you were down on knees, tail curling in front- a feeble attempt to look menacing.

Looking around, you took in the four adult men- but the adult woman and little girl were nowhere to be seen.  Made sense, considering the attire between the group.  The four men were dressed in armor, like soldiers, whereas the other two had general attire with a few handy trinkets or weapons.  I guess these four do the more ‘beat-up-people’ focused work…

“Nice surprise, right?” said the one with a half-and-half black and white helmet, a red stripe going down the middle.  “Didn’t expect us to know about your little plan, did ya?”  Half-and-half approached, unsheathing a vibro-knife.  That wasn’t good.  You scrambled up, backing into the wall, a desperate and toothy smile plastered on your face, despite the watering in your eyes.  The one with the goggles backed off, presumably to grab the loot.  That was extra not good.  “Was it the Twi’lek bartender?  Did he rat me out?” you asked, voice cracking, still holding that desperate smile.  Before you died, you at least wanted to know what went wrong that led to this, your ultimate demise in a, truthfully, not all that long career of crime.

Half-and-half bent down, and lifted your head up by the horns, holding the blade to your neck.  Your heart rate spiked, chest rising and falling far faster than any chest ever should.  “Technically, we got to him first.  Told him to let you loot us.  Told this ship’s pilot to do what we say.  And after we land, you’ll be taking us directly to your employer.  Got it?” he loathed, voice all the more terrifying under the helmet.  Your yellow eyes, scrunched and watering, reflected perfectly back in his visor, making the entire situation all the more real and terrifying.  You shakily nodded, agreeing in full.  “Good,” he spoke firmly, pulling the blade away from your neck and twirling it back into its sheath.  He dropped your horns, and you slumped backwards, a shaky breath exuding.

He stood up, signaling something to the other men, and they all began to turn around and walk out.  You cautiously opened your eyes, only to be met with everyone leaving- you quickly scrambled, and attempted to tell them to wait, but it was to no avail- Goggles was already losing the door.  An echo sounded through the room, leaving you alone, your eyes comically glowing administ the pitch black, ragged breathing filling the room.  This was so, very, not good.

[hellhound5925]

One shot - Sargent Hunter

“It’s better this way” Part Three

Incase you are new, Part one and Part two.

Warnings:

18+, heartbreak, smut, (I'm bad at warnings let me know if I missed anything) mentions of blood (unintentional self harm?). References to stars exploding. Female character/reader.

Summary:

The smut chapter you’ve been waiting for…that is all 😂 Wait I lied, so the lyrics to Sleep Tokens, Blood Sport is in this as well (I’m trying something new so let me know what we think). Anything that is lyrics will be written as follows: ~ Sleep Token, Blood Sport ~

I stop just outside the doors that lead out onto the landing platform - what can I even say to make up for what I did? Will he forgive me? This is Hunter we are talking about, right? He'll understand. With a deep breath, I press the button, causing the doors to slide open. The modified Omicron-class attack shuttle rests tall and proud on the platform, while the rain gently hits the heavily armored hull.

~ Stuck in a quantum pattern,

Tangled in what I never said,

You say it doesn’t matter ~

At first, there's no sign that anyone's out here, but then I notice the stairs are down and the door is open. Stepping out into the rain, I head over to the steps. The amber glow of the lights inside is warm and inviting, which makes my heart sink - I'm an awful person... Maybe I don't deserve to be forgiven. I head up the steps, getting out of the rain. The cold dampness makes it way through my clothes to my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

~ I want to be forgiven… ~

A noise comes from he cockpit drawing my attention. I quietly make my way to the doorway, leaning against it. Hunter is on his back under the controls, tinkering with something. He continues to work without acknowledging my presence, but there isn't a doubt in my mind he knew I was here the minute I walked up the stairs. I choose to stay silent for a moment hoping he would start the conversation.

After an alarming amount of time being shrouded in the cold silence, I decide to speak up. "I came to explain myself..." I trail off seeing if he will stop what he's doing but he doesn't. I've never seen him like this before and its actually scaring me a little.

~ I want to choke up chunks of my own sins ~

"Hunter please...I need you to understand...I never meant—" I'm cut off my a loud clanging noise. Hunter drops the tool he was working with and mutters a string of curses in Mando'a. Pushing himself out from under the controls, he's looking over his hand. Without a second thought, I rush over and grab it looking it over. He's moving it, so its likely not broke and theres no blood.

Neither of us move, his hand still in mine. I gently brush my fingers over his knuckles having almost forgotten what his touch was like. Without warning he pulls away, turning his back to me "I need to finish these repairs before we ship out."

~ Would you invite me in again? ~

At his words my stomach drops into my feet. "I'll be quick then, but I need you to hear me on this please."

~ Let me pay for my arrogance ~

He sighs and his shoulder drop. Without turning around, he turns his head to the side to show me he's listening. The fact that he can't even look at me is the final strike that breaks me completely. My legs become to weak to hold me up and I drop to my knees sobbing uncontrollably, "I was so worried about losing you out there....I had no idea what I would do without you....my best idea was to pull away....Tech...he made me realize—" at this point I can't think straight or get enough air into my lungs to continue.

~ Won’t you show me your weakness? ~

Burying my head in my hands, I didn't even hear anyone approach. A hand rests on each of my shoulders, I look up to see Hunter with a concerned look etched into his handsome features only inches from mine.

"I don't—deserve forgiveness" I blurt out.

~ I made loving you a blood sport ~

He reaches towards my face, placing a hand on my cheek. The rough pad of his thumb wipes away the waterfall of tears having made their way to my lips. The taste of their salt on my tongue.

"I wish you had come to me about how you were feeling." His voice is the calm at the center of the storm. It's warm and full of life, a life I crave. He pulls me in to his chest, where I lose control once again. Rubbing circles into my back with one hand in my hair, his hold on me tightens as if I'd slip through his fingers like the sands of Tatooine.

~ I’m still your favorite regret ~

"I forgive you" his chest vibrates with his words, "and I'm sorry you were in that much pain and didn't feel like you could come to me." In that moment, the black hole I created just a day ago was gone. The very star at the center of his universe, back where it belongs. Giving its life back to the planets, it watches over.

Returning his hands to my shoulders, he pushes me back to look me in the face. "Promise me from now on, you come to me whenever you feel that way." His beautiful brown eyes roam my face as I collect myself but all I can do is nod.

~ You’re still my weapon of choosing ~

My brain is so foggy from the overflow of emotions, "I don't understand how you don't hate me?"

"I could never hate you. You mean too much to me but I wanted to respect your decision."

"Tech said I'm one of the reasons you fight so hard to come home. Is that true? You fight for me?"

There's a long pause, Hunter places his forehead against mine "I will always fight for you."

~ And out there,

Stuck in a quantum pattern,

Tangled in what I never said… ~

I'm at a complete loss for words and even thought we're so close, a need to be closer claws at my insides. My hands find their way to his face and the stubble on his jaw tickles my palms, at this angle my hands look so small. Hunter likely feeling the same way, runs his hands down my sides resting them on my hips.

He pauses for a second before pulling me onto his lap. As if we've practiced this a thousand times, my legs wrap around his lean torso, while my hands make their way over his muscular shoulders and entangle themselves in his hair. Effortlessly, he lifts the two of us off the floor, carrying me over to his bunk and gently sets me on it. Its quite messy which means he didn't stay in the shared space with his brothers last night.

~ You say it doesn’t matter ~

Hunter hesitates, still hovering over me. “I promise that whatever happens out there…I will always find my way home to you.”

Grabbing the chest piece of his armor, I pull him so our lips crash together sloppily. After a few moments we break and all the only sounds that can be heard are the pitter patter of rain on the hull and our labored breathing. The space between us still nonexistent as his lips gently brush mine, I lean into him pressing our foreheads together. His nose is pressed into my cheek and yet it still feels like theres a galaxy between us.

“I need you” I whisper into his lips and arching my back ever so slightly, pressing myself further into him.

His lips dance gently across mine and it’s almost too much to bare. Hunter knows exactly what he’s doing and at this point I deserve to be tortured. Just as he leans in like he’s going to finally kiss me, he pulls away exposing my face to the cold air between us. A smug smile makes it away across his face but before I can react, he presses me into the mattress with his body. He kisses me so deeply, it makes the darkness of space seem shallow. My hands wander over his muscular back and through his hair causing a lusty hum to vibrate deep in his chest.

Muscle memory kicks in, and armor pieces start piling up on the floor followed by a pair of GAR issue blacks. My clothes are next to follow, the cold dampness of them feels like a distant memory as the warmth of his body radiates through mine. With one finger he slowly trails my jaw line, down my neck to my chest stopping briefly between my breasts. Goosebumps erupt all over my body, as he continues his painstakingly slow journey to my thighs. I’m too caught up in a storm of blissful anguish to make a sound.

Hunter forces his way through my throbbing core, falling in rhythm with the rain creating a beautiful symphony that overwhelms my senses. My desperation to be consumed with this feeling of him inside me. We've been together like this many times before but this....it's just different. Time suddenly seems to stand still as the two of us became whole once more. My back arches involuntarily at the electricity that shoots through my body. He's almost too much for me to handle, with fist full of the sheets and my toes curled to the soles of my feet, my body trembles with pleasure. My breathing hitches as a soft whimpering gasp falls from my lips.

"Easy Mesh'la...I've got you...I always will" he purrs in my ear before nipping and kissing my neck.

I cry out as his words are the final push over the edge, white hot pleasure corses through my core with the intent to keep him there. Hunter continues, not stopping until he knows our desire has been fulfilled.

As we come down from our high he surrounds me with his closeness, his embrace. His scent washes over me and becomes the air in my lungs, his touch makes my skin shiver with pleasure. In his strong arms I feel a safeness that I have never felt before. Burying his head my hair, he inhales deeply as if to soak me in. We lay there together in silence for a moment as the soft pitter patter of the rain slowly subsides.

"I know ‘s right for both of us…We’re always better together” his words slurred like a love drunken fool.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

Huge huge huge thank you to @cloneloverrrrr and @lune-de-miel-au-paradis you guys are the freaking best 🫡💖