#Star Wars the bad batch fanfiction

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

Here are your hints!

This clone is a romantic man. He may not always show it, especially when his brothers are around, but he is a hidden softy for you. He loves planning dates, especially around the holidays. He wants to walk through the night, stargazing with a cup of hot cocoa in hand, before snuggling up under warm fluffy blankets and a Christmas movie, a plate of cookies beside you. He never admits he's getting tried, and that he will fall asleep first during the movie, he's to stubborn, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Hunter x Reader: Timing

Word Count: 2,844

Warnings: Mentions of O66, some angst, kissy kissy.

   You lowered your head, pulling the hood of your cloak farther down over your face in hopes to keep you from being recognizable by any untrustworthy characters.  By the looks of it, that meant everyone in this parlor.

   It was a risky move going there in the first place.  Incredibly dangerous.  Some might deem it unwise, but it was all you had.

   Ever since that day…that horrible day… you’d been keeping an extremely low profile.  You traveled from place to place, having to choose the shadiest modes of transport to avoid the chain code system.  Being on the Empire’s most wanted list meant that you had to take every precaution.

   You glanced around the crowded parlor, getting a feel for the room.  The majority of customers were gathered around one of the dejarik boards.  Things were getting rowdy as one individual was just about to defeat his opponent.  No one would pay you any mind.

   Good.  You could locate the one known as Cid without drawing attention to yourself.

   She was a known jedi informant, and now a possible way to reach some old friends.

   Thanks to Rex’s description, you were able to find her very quickly.  She was seated at the bar, quietly sipping her drink and watching the game.  You exhaled slowly to gather yourself before walking over and taking the seat next to her.

   You ordered a drink casually, knowing that if you jumped right into a slew of questions that she’d be much less likely to give you an answer.  Finally, when your drink was set down in front of you, you took a sip and turned to the cantina owner.

   “Good evening,” you greeted.

   Her yellow eyes regarded you with skepticism that you were speaking to her, but she remained curt.  “‘Evening.”

   “I am looking for some friends of mine.  I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”

   She lifted a scaly brow, scowling.

   “Could you tell me where I might find a group?”  You paused, searching for the right words.  There was a good chance that they wouldn’t go by their Republic designation.  “It’s a very particular group.  I’ve been told they do odd jobs for you.”

   Cid leaned back, her expression calculating.  “I might know of a group.  Depends on who’s asking.”

   “I’m an ally.”

   She huffed.  “Sure you are.”

   Cid didn’t say anything more, but the message had gotten across.  You could only hope that you’d reach them.  If you couldn’t, then you’d have to contact Rex again…  You remained at the counter, watching as Cid slipped away.

   The anticipation of seeing them, seeing him again, was almost too much to bear.  Your mind flooded with memories as you waited.  Memories of the first time you’d met the intriguing squad.  Memories of the first time you’d locked eyes with him.

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant.” you greeted, blocking a stream of laser blasts.  “Though I wish it was under better circumstances.”

   His voice emerged smoky and mysterious through the modulator of his helmet as he took out a nearby droid with his viroblade.  “Pleasure’s all mine, General.”

   Later on, after the initial wave of droids, he removed his helmet to speak with you face-to-face.  You were well aware of how the Bad Batch differed from other troops, but it was still surprising to see their appearances.

   “Your squad is most impressive,” you said, trying very hard to push down the immediate feelings of attraction that began to blossom as you admired his tattooed features.  “And you arrived in just the nick of time.”

   He gave a small chuckle, his brow lifting.  “It’s what we do.”

   “Yeah!”  The one known as Wrecker jumped into the conversation, giving a hearty laugh.  “Those droids never stand a chance against us!”

   Tech was typing away on a set of buttons on his armor.  “They are falling back.  By my calculations, they will regroup shortly for a final attack.”

   “We’d better get ready then,” Crosshair smirked, placing a toothpick between his teeth.

   “Any orders?” Hunter asked.  It was apparent that the squad was very accustomed to working independently, but he made a point to recognize your authority as a jedi general.

   “None except that we retake this base,” you replied, making Wrecker practically jump.

   “I like her!”

   You found yourself smiling against the rim of your glass right before taking a sip.  That battle marked the beginning of your time with the Bad Batch.  You had the rank of general, but you’d never assumed command of a legion.  The Council would send you on independent missions as they saw fit, and after the success of that one, you were granted permission to assist the squad on a series of assignments.

   You came to see the Bad Batch as family. Aside from the particularly risky missions, it was the happiest period of your life.

   And that’s where it got messy.

   You recalled so vividly the bonds you’d formed with the brothers.  The hours working on the ship with Tech.  The many different ways to blow up a droid that Wrecker taught you.  The time you’d spent getting to know Crosshair and read him, though you still found him puzzling at times.  The talks you had with Hunter.

   Things got extremely messy when taking into account the feelings you harbored for the sergeant in secret, though such attachments to him, or anyone for that matter, were forbidden.  What was worse…he felt the same for you, and he knew about your attachment to him.  You could feel it every time his mind was near.  With both of you being so sensitive to your surroundings, it was bound to happen.  It was an unspoken thing between you.  Though you ached for more, you decided that being near him was enough.

   Then, there was the night that everything seemed to implode.

   Another successful mission.

   You gazed out at the beautiful star streaks across the dash as the Marauder traveled at lightspeed.  All was quiet aboard the ship.  Save for Tech’s busy mind, everyone seemed to be settling down for some much-needed rest.

   Oh.  There was one more mind that hadn’t been lulled by the sound of the engine.  Footsteps made their way up toward the front of the ship where you stood.

   “Hey. Sarge.”  The very informal greeting was a result of much time spent with the Batch.  The lot of you had forsaken by-the-book speech.  

   His eyes did not flash in amusement like they normally would.  His brows furrowed seriously as he leaned against the wall, and your voice took on a more concerned tone.  “Everything alright?”

   “Yeah,” he replied, though he didn’t look any less troubled.  “Just…a few things on my mind.”

   “Anything you’d like to share?  Maybe talking about it will help,” you offered helpfully.  “I’m no Yoda, but I’d like to think that learning under him has earned me some wisdom.”  You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

   “It’s-” he hesitated, gaze meeting yours meaningfully.  “I don’t think you want me to talk about this.”

   You tilted your head in confusion.  “Why not?”

   “Because it’s about…us.  This.  Whatever this is.”

   You caught on to where his mind was, feeling your heart flutter and stomach drop at the same time.  Your lips parted with a tiny “oh” sound escaping from them.  He was right.  This was definitely something you didn’t want to talk about. You couldn’t offer him a commitment.  Your code wouldn’t allow that.  But you didn’t want to lose him. This conversation could very well change everything.

   “Hunter… Before you continue, I just want to say that I…I…”

   “I know,” he said, stepping forward.  It was a small step, but it put him in your space entirely.  Suddenly his handsome face was all you could see, and that musky scent of his was the only thing you could smell.  His gloved hand reached out gently to brush your fingers.

   He knew what you felt for him… because that’s what he felt for you.

   “And I’m not asking for anything.  Or hoping.  I just…have to tell you at least once that I do too.”

   His lips ghosted over yours.  The warmth of his breath fanned your face, drawing you in while that feeling of comfort and security that you felt with him washed over you.  Your fingers entwined with his gloved ones, and you allowed yourself a single moment.  Hunter pressed his lips to your own briefly, testing the waters.  You leaned in before he could pull away, capturing him in another kiss, which he deepened.

   It was only a single moment, absolutely forbidden and beautiful.

   The kiss ended all too soon, with Hunter whispering a low “good night” before heading for his rack to get a few hours of sleep.  You remained in the cockpit, caught up in the thrill of what happened, yet completely torn.

   You felt tears well up in your eyes as you recalled what happened next.  It was right after returning from that mission that the Council had decided to reassign you to assist another jedi in an entirely different system.

   That was the end of your time with the Batch during the Clone Wars.  You couldn’t protest the Council’s decision without betraying some sort of attachment.  Even if the Council didn’t pick up on anything romantic, they still wouldn’t be so keen on your preference of the squad over where duty called you.  The Council’s decision had come so quickly that part of you feared that somehow they knew.

   So you carried out orders without so much as a hesitation.  You didn’t reach out to Hunter, fearful that he would also be at risk somehow.  Time passed.  The war came to an end.

   You’d barely escaped the former chancellor’s horrid order.  And after so many months on your own, wondering where your squad was in all this mess, assuming the worst, you ran into Rex, and he informed you of his discovery of them, the removal of their chips, and their whereabouts.

   It was only a matter of a few rotations before you found yourself at Cid’s Parlor.

   There was no telling how your arrival would be received.  Would they be angry?  Hurt?  Would they be glad to see you?  You imagined that the others would be glad, at least.

   The moment had arrived.  The first one you saw was Wrecker, towering over everyone else in the cantina as he made his way out from the back.  He spotted you right away, and a huge grin spread across his face.

   “Hey!  It’s ________!”

   He emerged from the crowd with Hunter just in front of him, followed by Tech.  Another trooper walked out after him that you didn’t recognize and also a young girl.

   “Ah, _________” Tech said in recognition.  “I am pleased to see you alive and well, considering the events concluding the war.”

   “You have no idea how glad I am to see all of you,” you replied warmly.  “It’s like coming home.”  You mustered the courage to meet Hunter’s eyes, hoping you’d find a similar welcome.  His gaze was piercing, like a single lamp in the dark- comforting, safe, filling you with relief.

   It was true.  That seedy parlor, where you’d never been before, that was full of strangers already felt like home.

   Even so, Hunter suggested the lot of you take the reunion back to the Marauder to avoid drawing any attention to you.  Your mind was buzzing the entire time with questions; both about the new faces you saw amongst your squad as well as the one face that you didn’t see.  Where was Crosshair?

   Tech updated you on the sharpshooter’s absence in a brief, but thorough explanation.  You were saddened to hear of these events, but the group seemed somewhat hopeful that their brother didn’t appear entirely lost.

   The other trooper, who you presumed to be a newer member of the squad, looked rather curious.

   “Echo, this is ________, a friend.  She served with us on several missions during the war,” Hunter introduced.

   “Served?” Echo repeated.  “Then that would make you a…”

   “A jedi,” you uttered quietly.  “Yes.”

   He stood up straight and saluted with his scomp arm.  “It’s an honor.  My name is Echo.  I joined the squad after a rescue mission on Skako.”

   “And this is Omega,” Hunter gestured toward the girl.  “Our newest member.”

   “Hello!” she gave a cheerful wave.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

   “Oh really?”

   “Yep!” Wrecker butted in, wrapping you up in a big hug.  “You’re our favorite jedi, after all!”  He set you down and gave you a playful nudge with his elbow, which almost sent you stumbling.  “We missed you!  Especially Hunter here.”

   The comment piqued your interest.  Hunter gave Wrecker one of his signature looks, silently telling him to drop it.  Tech observed the interaction, noting it while adjusting his goggles.  Echo’s gaze darted back and forth between you and Hunter, understanding flashing in them.  Omega looked confused, but didn’t voice it.

   You nearly collapsed into ruins from embarrassment.

   Wrecker suddenly scratched his head. “ Uhhh, that reminds me.  Tech, d’you remember the other day? I said I wanted to show you the thing.”

   “I do not recall-”

   “The thing.  It’s, uh, in Cid’s.  But we have to go see it.  Now.”

   Echo seemed to catch on to some inside cue because he quickly got Tech’s attention and nodded his head in the direction of the exit ramp.

   “Ah.  Indeed.”

   “You too, Omega!” Wrecker added, ushering the girl outside.  You clasped a hand over your mouth to hide your humor while the group departed.  You could hear Omega’s little voice asking, “what’s going on?” before they were out of earshot.

   Hunter gave a long and heavy sigh, shaking his head, before his eyes met yours again.

   “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said.  “They’re all trouble.”

   “Yeah,” you chuckled.

   An awkward silence fell over the both of you.  It wasn’t like you expected things to fall back into place, to pick up right where you’d left off.  But with how the others acted, you expected Hunter to say something.

   After all that time…There he was.  Safe and sound.  Standing just a few feet in front of you.

   “Hunter, I-”

   “Look-”

   Both of you fell silent again, and Hunter took the initiative to speak first.  His voice was low, a bit shaky.  “I’m glad you’re alright.  You don’t know how worried I was- we all were.”

   “I was worried about all of you,” you replied.  “I saw what the chips did to troopers.  It’s terrible.  I was so relieved to find Rex, and when he told me that he’d been in contact with you… I can’t even say how I felt.  I’ve missed you so much!”  Your voice broke, and Hunter stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you.

   The low rumble of his voice was soothing against your ear as he held you tighter.  “I missed you too.”

   “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you after I was reassigned.  After what happened that night after our last mission…”

   “It’s alright.  Neither did I.  I guess…neither of us were in a place to do anything about it then.  We had our obligations.”

   Had obligations.  Past tense.

   “But just know that I’ve thought about you every day since then,” he said.  “Nothing’s changed.”

    “Oh, Hunter,” you cried.  “Me too.”

   His breath hitched in his throat, and he pulled away slightly.  “You know, if this weren’t to happen, there’s a place for you here.  With the squad.  That’s undeniable.”

   You met his eyes, too happy to care about the tears on your face.  His gaze seemed to soften at the sight of them, and he reached up to brush them away.  

   “I didn’t think it was,” you chuckled tearfully.  “I do want to be with the squad, and I want to be with you.”

   A soft smile graced his features, the kind of smile you’d only seen a few times.  One of them was when he first and last kissed you.  Hunter leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, before closing the short distance entirely.

   His arms enveloped you, pulling you tighter against his frame while he kissed you with simmering passion.  You grasped his broad shoulders to ground yourself, and yet it only sent you higher.

   Your eyes followed the contours of his face while you paused the dance of your lips to catch your breath, tracing the slope of his nose, the curve of his mouth, and the edge of his jawline.  Amidst the haze of his close proximity, you’d never seen him so clearly. 

   You were glowing, luminous.  So utterly content, and yet, your lips tingled with the desire to be kissed again.

   Heavy footsteps on the ramp jolted you from the moment.  Before you and Hunter could separate to save face, Wrecker poked his head inside the Marauder, grinning.

   “I knew it!  All it took was fifteen minutes.”

   “Actually,” Tech’s voice spoke up a little farther down matter-of-factly.  You could imagine him holding up his index finger pointedly.  “It was approximately twenty.”

[wanderinginksplot-writes]

I haven't written anything new this month since most of my writing time has been spent finishing a fic for the other account, but I hope you'll appreciate the announcement that I've updated my masterlist. Enjoy!

---

All of the works below are generally SFW, but may not necessarily be appropriate for minors. Please mind the warnings at the top of each fic. 

To keep things tidy, I have works split up by character. The links will take you to a page of everything I’ve written for that character.

The 501st:

Rex   |   Kix   |   Fives   |   Echo   |   Hardcase    |   Tup   |   Dogma     

Jesse   |   Denal   |   General 501st (No Pairing)   

The 212th:

Cody   |   Trapper

Wolfpack: 

Wolffe

The Coruscant Guard: 

Fox   |   Thorn   |   Thire   |   Hound  |  Stone 

The Bad Batch:

Hunter   |   Tech   |    Crosshair   |   Wrecker   |   Echo 

Delta Squad (Republic Commando): 

Boss   |   Fixer   |   Scorch   |   Sev  

Omega Squad (Republic Commando):

Fi 

Legends:

Alpha-17   |   Fordo   

Other Characters: 

Howzer  |  Cad Bane  |  Hondo Ohnaka 

Original Characters: 

Limit   |   Curl   |   Drift 

Series

Gar Cabur - Alpha-17 and fem!reader

Gar Cyare - Continued Alpha-17 and fem!reader

Warriors in Red Armor - Fox, Thorn, Thire, and Hound and fem!OCs

Now Boarding - Various 501st with various fem!readers

Refuge - Delta Squad and fem!reader (Eventual poly fic)

Nobody Listens to Kix - Kix’s patient files (no reader characters) 

Just for Kix - Extras from Nobody Listens to Kix

Voices Carry - Null ARC Mereel and fem!reader

Clone Trooper Rambles - Journal-esque blurbs featuring clone troopers

[leapingbadger]

Gah! Accidentally deleted my original post 😢

So I’m working on a Bad Batch Fanfic and have hinted at Hunter being force sensitive. Would love some opinions cos I have no idea where I want to land with this one.

[kybercrystals94]

Found At Last

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 20|Prompt 20: Found Family

Rating: G

Words: 355

Summary: Omega found her brothers at last…

The gentle patter of raindrops against the viewport is surprisingly soothing when Omega compares it to the torrential downpours of Kamino. Fat raindrops roll tracks down the glass pane, and Omega traces their paths with her finger.

Voices filter through her curtain, the voices of her brothers. Her anxious thoughts melt into the familiarity of their timbres, indistinct words unknowingly communicating safety behind muttered syllables. Omega knows that her brothers would do anything in their power to protect her. Although she might not have the bodily strength to do the same, the sentiment is mutual in her own heart and mind. Her brothers. Her family.

She found them at last.

Ever since they left Nala Se’s private lab all those years ago, Omega had clung to the hope she would meet them again, those tiny little boys with their large brown eyes. She knew, of course, that they would not be small forever. Their accelerated growth would mean that by the time she found them, they would be the size of adults with the minds of seasoned soldiers. They would not remember the way she held their pudgy hands when they cried, or when she pressed kisses against the tops of their downy soft heads. She’d barely been more than a toddler herself, but she remembered so clearly.

The shock she felt the first time she saw them again, years later, now shiny commandos of the Grand Army, had staggered her. While she’d known they wouldn’t remember her, it did not erase the complicated emotions of jealousy and disappointment she felt realizing that they had grown up without her. Moved on without her. Were perfectly fine and happy and healthy…without her.

All while she was so sad and lonely without them.

“Omega!” Wrecker’s voice booms out, “We’re gonna play a card game! I need you on my team.”

“She will not help you cheat,” Tech’s voice follows.

“I have never cheated before in my life.”

“That is extraordinarily untrue.”

Omega smiles as her brother’s voices draw her away from the painful memories into the warmth of her new reality: she isn’t without them anymore.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List!✨

[oftincturedwords]

Title: Ties Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Star Wars : The Bad Batch Rating: T+ Chapter Warnings: ¡Spoilers! Crying , Grief/Mourning , Implied Canon Character Death , Angst , Nightmares , Explicit Nightmares , etc. Characters: Crosshair & Omega Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort , Brother - Sister Dynamics , Holding Hands , Crying , etc. Timeline: Based off of Star Wars : The Bad Batch series three trailer ; scene with Crosshair & Omega in cells beside each other Pairings: Gen. None. Word Count: 3034 Overall Summary: Crosshair doesn't allow his gaze to drift towards the cell next to his, the open slates between them allowed him some view of the entrance and within the cell the kid usually occupied. It was too great risk for familiarly to be used as leverage against them. But he can't remain distant when he knows something is wrong. Chapter Summary: Crosshair wakes in the middle of the night to hear Omega crying. He tries his best to help. A/N: These ideas just sprang to my head once I heard of the scene between Omega & Crosshair in the Star Wars Celebration trailer , thus add my apparent enjoyment of causing turmoil for my favourite characters , I couldn't help but write this ficlet up. I wrote it & the next chapter ( which will be posted in a few day ) up in a single night because of the inspiration so here's to hope it's coherent & in-character as I think it is ! Thus consider this a small collection of interconnecting one - shots of Crosshair & Omega whilst they are held on Tantiss. If more ideas come to mind , the chapter count will go up & the tags will be updated. I have no beta this all mistakes are mine. Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star War : The Clone Wars & Star Wars : The Bad Batch. Neither am I associated with Lucasfilms , Disney+ , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. I make no money off any of my stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. Read On : ao3 | under the cut

Wakefulness came instantaneously to Crosshair. Much like the times when on a mission he would be woken to take his turn of the watch, a near silent whisper of his name from one of his brothers and he was roused enough to fight if it had been needed. The instincts and habits born during combat, or from combat training, hadn't lessened any in the countless weeks he had spent as a prisoner. For his eyes were open and mind alert before he knew exactly what had woken him.

Drawn from the depths of sleep by the softest of out-of-place noise. A breathy, hiccuping sound that was familiar in the sense he had heard it before. Although the memory of it was distant, it had happened years ago in what seemed like another life, and any recollection was immediately dismissed when it registered that the stifled crying was coming from the kid’s cell.

Tensing at that realisation, Crosshair listened a moment more to the muffled sniffles and shallowly exhaled sobs from the cell directly next to his. They were quiet in a way that was deliberate and purposefully, yet desolate and grieved sounding to the point, he knew there was nothing the kid could have done to stop crying altogether. They were the tears of the emotional wrought, which never heeded logic nor yielded to restraint or threats, they wouldn't stop until they were spent.

Normally, Crosshair would have left the kid alone. He knew he wasn't good with words of comfort at the best of times and the barrier separating their cells, despite the slats that were vented through the durasteel and allowed them to see into each other’s room, it still physically barred any actions of comfort he could offer. Not that they had much to offer in way of amenities anyway, but he could have at least added his blanket to hers or sat beside her until her tears ran dry as he had done before for his brothers.

However, he wasn't sure if it would even work for her if he had been able to do that.

But after what had happened only a handful of days ago, Crosshair wasn't going to leave anything to chance with the kid if he could help it. Just because he thought he knew why she was crying didn't mean he could be wrong, he had been intimately shown that he could and had repeatedly been wrong before. Thus he, quickly yet equally as quiet, turned on his cot until he was laying on his belly and could look towards the apertures between their cells.

The lighting was dimmed to the point of blackness, aside from the red glow the shielding of their cell entrances gave off, but Crosshair had zero issue with seeing that the kid was sitting up on the bunk. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she had her head buried into her folded arms, all but consumed by the sole blanket they had all been issued that she had lain and tucked over herself.

He could visibly see the blanket shift with every hitch of her breaths and jolt of her small frame. The greyed fabric quavered with the strength of her trembling in-between every jarring sob she fought to restrain and quiet.

“Kid.” Crosshair called out in a whisper, which caused an instant cessation of the repressed sobbing and a stillness to overcome the kid as if his voice had physically froze her on the spot.

Seeing such a reaction had Crosshair’s lips twisting moreso into a frown. The response had been a fearful one, instinctive to the point it was nearly innate. Although, he wasn’t surprised at it given how Kamino raised its clones and their current situation as captives to scientists of even less compassion than those who bred them to begin with. It felt wrong to see, and sparked at that bitterly simmering anger that always burnt within his chest.

“Crosshair?” Came her choked whisper, thick with tears and broken between the syllables of his name, as if she had spoken in the middle of a sob, whilst she tilted her head up a fraction to see over her arms and from under the blanket she had draped over her head.

“What is it?” He asked in way of an answer, his voice a sibilant murmur.

His words again had an instant effect upon her. And he could only watch as she swallowed back another sob, a pair of crystalline tears falling from her reddened eyes and slipping in twin rivulets down her already damp cheeks before she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head in the negative repeatedly. Dropping it back into her arms whilst her whole body shuddered, he heard her give a gasping breath that was only muffled by how vehemently she was pressing herself against her mouth to silence the noise.

The split second all that had taken to occur had sent a lancing of panic through Crosshair’s chest. His mind involuntarily conjured up the images of days prior and brought forth the very same helpless terror he had felt then, thus he’s shoving down his blanket without caring where he lay and throwing his legs over the side of the bunk to get up in the next instant.

Soundlessly crossing the short expanse of the room in hardly the time it would take to breathe his next breath, Crosshair came up to the adjoining wall of their cells that held a small space between it and the end of his bunk that he could crouched down by yet still see through the lower ends of the open slats on the wall. It was less conspicuous to any passing guards if they happened to walk by or check the cameras since it would afford him the sparse few seconds to return to his bunk or appear to be anything other than talking with the kid.

He moved automatically, an ingrained habit to conceal and hide that hadn't left his muscle memory from the years he’d spent in the main barracks on Kamino before he and his brothers had been given their own privately shared quarters. Yet if something were dangerously wrong with the kid, his secrecy wound proved unneeded for he would ensure the guards brought medical up and to her if she needed it. After last time, he doubted he would have to make much of a racket to get them to obey.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his harsh whisper laced with a steeliness that sharpened his tone, the underlying of heightened concern was buried beneath its acerbity.

The only answer he received were the chocked sounds of her muffled weeping.

“Omega.” He called, an urgency within the sole whisper of her name that held every ounce of worry and tension he was feeling.

“‘M not hurt,” She finally answered after a stretched handful of moments, her words a tad garbled by her tears but understandable enough, “Or sick. Just, just had a nightmare.”

Crosshair felt himself practically wilt against the wall before him, a relief it wasn't anything more serious and potentially life threatening washed over him with an immediacy that left him feeling shaky. But he simply breathed out the stress of the last several minutes in a muted exhale, willing his mind away from the images his memories held of a few days ago.

Pausing only a moment to contemplate her words further, nothing physical was wrong, but it didn't make her distress any less. It'd been a few years since Crosshair had helped any of his brothers with nightmares of this extent. Since leaving Kamino they had all dealt with them differently than they had as cadets, never alone still, unless any of them professed the want to be alone after them.

But it was more of waking them if they couldn't on their own, then offering a sip-pack of filtered water and sitting nearby until the haunting images faded enough for them to return to sleep. If sleeping again wasn't an option, then staying up till the terror or ill feelings weren't so pressing. Or so Crosshair had always done. He wasn't one for many words, nor comfortingly eloquent, and so he didn't offer much assurances that way. Actions usually spoke louder than words anyway.

Thus Crosshair simply turned around from where he knelt and shifted so he could sit down, cross legged with his back against the thin openings between their cells.

Leaning his head back against them, he quietly turned to sit on the durasteel flooring. It's coldness seeping through the fabric of his trousers to chill the flesh along his legs and arse, but it was negligible and not an unfamiliar sensation since he had camped out on the deck beside bunks and berths multiple times throughout his eleven years of life. Slept even on worse surfaces.

He couldn't be there next to her, but he could still sit with her as close as he their physical confines allowed him to. Attempting to offer her the silent comfort he had afforded his brothers numerous times before; the voiceless succour he’d provided hunter whenever he had migraines so painful he was entirely incapacitated yet couldn't be left alone, the same quiet amity he lent tech whenever his brother would narrate the process of a complicated project whilst he verbally worked through the issue, the soundless presence he had given the reg whenever he sat with him on his bunk during sleepless nights.

With Wrecker it had been less about crosshair offering a silent support and more about rising to meet his older brother’s energy, engaging in and initiating contests and games that they routinely fought for place as victor. It was usually Wrecker who worked to be the calm and steady company whenever Crosshair had needed it.

He wasn't certain what would best work with the kid. His options were limited as is, he knew, especially given there were eyes upon them more often than not, but perhaps this would grant a modicum of solace? If anything he would remain awake alongside her, she wouldn't be alone.

A modified silence reigned around them. No noise except for the distant humming of the buildings’ systems, the air vents cycling and the low humming that always came from the multiple glowing shields that held them all within their prisons. Only accompanied by the smothered hiccuping sobs and wet snuffling that came from the kid as she continued to quietly cry.

“I dreamt of that day on Eriadu,” He heard her speak up suddenly after several minutes had passed, explaining the reason for her upset in a subdued voice, softly heaving a stuttered breath thereafter, “The, the day that Tech...”

Crosshair stiffened at hearing her admission, startled by the onslaught of heartache hearing his little brother’s name had shot through his core. Eyes closing on their own accord, he strove to keep his own breathing even. Measured and counted.

He had been informed of what happened by Hemlock. The kriffing bastard had brandished the remains of Tech’s shattered helmet to him as if it were a trophy meant to be shown off and smiled at with revenance.

Later when he had been returned to his own cell and saw the kid was in hers, looking worriedly over at him, he had whirled on her once the guards had left them alone. Not shouting nor anywhere near loud, but demanded he did. Low and severe, he relaid what Hemlock told him to her and pressed to know if it was true. Yet he hadn't needed any verbal confirmation from her since the expression on her face and the welling of tears in her eyes had told him everything.

Shuddering, Crosshair drew a slow breath against the icy-grip of grief that reached out from his heart to clamp vice-like around his chest, intertwining its talons between each and every rib. It strove to stutter his next inhale and constrict the rest to nothing.

The ire he had initially felt when he had found out had tapered, he couldn't remain angry long enough to stave off the tide of grief anymore these last several days. Extinguished by a resurgence of memories, likely brought up by exhaustion and grief, from their years as cadets and from their graduation onwards to an elite squad in the GAR.

Stupid moments during the dull moments of missions or in-between assignments, idle chatter of conversations he hadn't remembered until now to petty arguments that felt all the more trivial to shared silences of companionship and solidarity.

Recollections of smiling, and outright laughing a few rare times, with his brothers. Of games and tears and jokes and the grittiest of missions where they barely made it out by the skin of their teeth. Memories of every sort, good and bad, had coalesced and come to the forefront of his mind unbidden. Each one worked to erode at his anger and the bitterness he had felt, it all felt frivolous and inane now. Regret had seeped in heavier than ever before, mingling with guilt and his grief to the degree he felt ill with it.

Learning of his brother’s death in an attempt to rescue him and then seeing the kid had been captured only to have her confirm his warning had been received just not followed had twisted something deep inside Crosshair. He had clung to the rage at their continued distrust of him, that they wouldn't even listen to his wanting, and had been snuffed out almost immediately.

For their squad had never been one to follow orders or adhere to any strict rules, anything ‘by the book’ was a joke they all smirked at. He shouldn't have expected anything less, even if the kid was involved. she was off the same stock after all, and living with those four for so long had to have had an influence.

Maker knows Wrecker, Tech, and the reg. held no impulse control if Hunter wasn't actively present. Thus he doubted the kid was any different.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was closer now, directly at his back, so lost to his reminiscence he hadn't heard her get up nor walk over towards where he sat, “I know you’re mourning him too. That's why I didn't want to say anything.”

Her words felt more akin to a hit to the solar plexus than the expression of sympathy that they were. And again he had to work to steady his breathing lest he lose any control over the amount of oxygen he drew in, shoving back against the pressure welling within his own chest.

Focussing instead on the faint sounds from her side of the slatted wall, hearing the soft shuffling of the kid’s clothes along with the dull thumps of her sitting down behind him. The faint warmth he could feel from her back through the slits in the wall told him she had mirrored his posture.

“But I miss them so much.” She said after a breadth of silence between them, nearer a broken whimper that continued through the wobbliness of tears to whisper, “And I want to go home, but when we get out of here and see Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo again, Tech won't— No rescue plan or any amount of credits can bring him back to us.”

Clenching his eyes closed at hearing her words, spoken so plainly and bereaved yet still she held out hope for rescue based upon her use of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’, and she remained adamant in her wish to have him return with her it seemed since she only ever referred to them instead of just herself when it came to escaping or being rescued. ‘We’ never ‘me’ or ‘I’ when she spoke of it. Believing in it so heartedly she didn't seem aware she had used such verbiage.

It brought forth another form of sadness to Crosshair's chest, the grief over knowing Tech was gone nestled beside the misery of knowing her hopes would not be met.

Omega held such belief in their brothers and in everything turning out with them reunited, even if it wasn't better or all right, that they would all see each other again. But Tech had already lost his life in an effort to rescue just him, thus locating this place and infiltrating it was a challenge unlike any they had encountered before. Too many variables to calculate against and the highest of secrecy about this place, along with the Empire’s sheer numbers and degree of control. Add to the fact, Hemlock held a sadistic ambition when it came to his experiments…

It was unlikely they would be found before something worse happened. If they could be located at all, there was an even less chance of everyone surviving that rescue attempt. In one piece or at all. There was little accuracy in her hopes, but Crosshair supposed that was why they were called hopes. They weren't actuality nor truths, simply wishes that were based upon a small shard of reality. And after everything that had been taken from her, he couldn't take that from her. Not yet, not now.

Venting a muted sigh, Crosshair bowed his head and moved a hand of his to reach back beside him through the lower end of the opening between their cells. Although his hands were lithe, he could only reach through to the knuckles nearest his palm before the edges of the slat stopped him, but it was enough for him to brush the fabric of her sleeve.

Pinching the material awkwardly between his pointer and middle finger, he tugged it gently twice to gain her attention towards his hand. Hearing her shift behind him, he released her shirtsleeve to splay out his finger slightly in a deliberate motion. Only a second's pause came from her before a quiet sniffle met the air and he felt her small hand encircle his fingers. And he curled his fingers a slight to ensure she felt his attempt to hold her hand back.

A/N: :))) I have made myself sad now… but another chapter to come , so see you soon with more feels <3 The next chapter will detail what Crosshair references in this chapter about what happened to Omega those days prior.

[meshla-cyarika]

[lothcat-lothcat-lothwolf-run]

this would go crazy on the holonet

[leenathegreengirl]

Cross is sleepy, let him sleep! 😴 💚💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @anxiouspineapple99 @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa

[lightspringrain]

These are panels for chapter 1 and chapter 2 of my CX-2 Tech fanfic "Return From Darkness". If you like emotionally rich, grounded and character driven stories, please be sure to check it out! It is one emotional roller coaster ride. Art done by Collophora. Concepts by me.

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

Alright you know the drill!

It's time for a bake-off and your boyfriend is your partner for this. And you had no idea he was a fantastic baker and so good with his hands (well in the kitchen, you knew he was good with his hands, didnt you, ya nasty😉😉). You're up against some of the best bakers on your homeworld and your clone boyfriend is in this to win it. You want cookies that war warm, soft and chewy? Done. You want super amazing and sweet icing on them? Done. You want designs on them? Done. Your boyfriend is ready to make sure you guys win this bake-off and have the time of your life doing it. And some icing on your nose for him to kiss off later is just the cherry on top.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: In My Dreams

The Bad Batch is finally enjoying a time of peace and even some relaxation.  Things are going well, but then you catch a glimpse of someone unexpected.

Word count: 821

Warnings: Angst, Spoilers for the Bad Batch S2 episode “Pabu.”

Sequel can be found HERE: More Than a Dream

   A warm breeze blew in through the window, ruffling the long, sheer curtains.  You breathed out a sigh at the sound of a wind chime softly tinkling.  Shifting around on the mattress to get more comfortable, you let your tired mind wander.

   Pabu had turned out to be quite the place to relax and kick back.  You hadn’t seen your teammates look so happy in a long time, if ever.  It brought out a different side in each and every one of you.  There were so many smiles, sighs, and much laughter.

   The decision to stay and help rebuild lower Pabu wasn’t a hard one.  The people had been so kind and hospitable to you all, and after the sea surge, the Batch felt it was the right thing to do.

   Sleep finally claimed you.  With the sound of the ocean pushing and pulling against the shore, and insects chirping outside, your eyes fell shut.

   Cold.

   It was bitter cold.

   Teeth chattered.  Hands trembled.  Your body ached, and you could scarcely move.  Squinting through the harsh white landscape, there was nothing to be found.  No structures.  No people.  It was just ice and snow.

   Then you saw his face.  His eyes.  

   It was an expression that you’d never seen on him before.  His gaze was narrowed in the ferocious snowfall, in determination, but they widened every now and then with something akin to fear as he glanced down at his companion who had become a mere limp body that he ushered on.  His chest rose and fell deeply as if each breath absolutely pained him.

   You called his name.  Screamed it.  But your voice couldn’t be heard over the wailing winds.

   Drawing in a sharp breath, you jolted from the nightmare with a start.  Relief washed over you when the only sounds that could be heard were that little wind chime outside and the sea in the distance.  The air was mellow and soothing on your skin.

   Even so, a hollow feeling settled in your chest.  The dream was still too near.

   You rested your head back down on the pillow, feeling salty tears slip down your cheek.  No one was around to hear your cries, so for once you indulged in the release.  Your clutched the pillow closer 

   “Why are you crying?” a familiar, raspy, yet soothing voice sounded just behind you.

   “I had a bad dream,” you sobbed.  “I saw you.  You were cold, and it was dark, and…”

   An arm slipped around your waist.  He drew you closer so that your back was against his chest, and your eyes fell shut as his warmth enveloped you.  A shaky sigh filled the room as you pressed even closer.

   “It was just that,” he uttered quietly, his slender fingers brushing your arm, “a dream.”

   Your lashes fluttered as drowsiness crept its way back in.  “I’m glad you’re here.  I’ve been worried about you.”

  He didn’t respond to that.  Silence fell between the two of you, and you took the opportunity to simply focus on the deep, slow breaths he took that were no longer pained like they had been in your dream.

   “Go back to sleep,” he murmured.  But you were already halfway there.

  You awoke to golden sunlight pouring in, casting bright shapes along the floor leading up to your bedroll.  There was no desire to stay curled up under the covers for long as the temperature had already begun its late-morning climb.

   “Cross?  What time is it?”  You reached over to feel nothing but the crumpled sheet.  That’s when the memories started pouring in.  

   Oh.  Right.  Crosshair was still gone…

   Your heart sank, yet you found yourself almost chuckling.  It’s funny how a couple of dreams could erase all of that for a short time.  It’s funny just how far hope can go.  Rising from the bedroll, you stretched and folded the linens for later use.

   When you arrived on the balcony for breakfast, it appeared that the rest of your squad and their hosts were nearly done with the meal.

   “Hey!  Look who decided to join us!” Wrecker laughed.  “Mornin’, sleepyhead!”

   “That’s rather amusing coming from you,” Tech retorted, adjusting his goggles.  Omega held up her hands to hide a giggle.  It was true, Wrecker was almost always the last one up.

   “Rough night?” Hunter asked sympathetically as you took the empty seat beside him.  You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair quickly.

  “Just some weird dreams,” you replied, waving off his concern casually.  You turned your attention to the beautiful spread of fruits and pastries that adorned the table.  “Wow, this looks great.”

   “It tastes great!” Wrecker muttered through a mouthful of food.  “You’ve got to try some of those apples.”

   You brushed off the last of your uneasiness about the dreams and smiled, glad to start another lovely day on Pabu with your squad.

   But the hope that remained wasn't so easily discarded.

[phantasmagoriatime]

Finally

My art for the @clonebang (thank you so much for this event!)

Also super BIG kudos💜 to my teammates for making the process so fun and really special!!

The source of inspiration is an amazing story What We Did on Felucia by @wolveria

And the source of motivation is very talented artist @binkyisonline

[leapingbadger]

Chapter 5 is up!

Have been working on this one for a while. It's multiple chapters, not finished yet.

All four finished chapters are up on AO3. More to come soon! Hope you enjoy!

[collophora]

First chapter of Fire and the Flood by CourtesyTrefflin @fanfictasia for @clonebang 2024 is up!

Please go check it and comment éuè <3

Spoiler it's a 8 chapter fic and I made 1-2 images for each ;)

[oftincturedwords]

Title: Delicate Operation Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Star Wars : The Bad Batch / Star Wars : The Clone Wars Rating: T+ Chapter Warnings: ¡Spoilers! Blood , Descriptions of Falling , Descriptions of Pain , Descriptions of Injury , Near Drowning Experience , Coughing , etc. Characters: Tech , Mentioned Wrecker , Mentioned Omega Additional Tags: Clone Trooper Tech Lives , Fix-It , Post Canon Fix-it , Physical Hurt , etc. Timeline: Set during Star Wars : The Bad Batch s02e16 ( Plan 99 ) ; on Eriadu after Tech shoots the connexion cable Pairings: Gen. None. Word Count: 4001 Summary: Crosshair had got the message through, he was certain of it. Even though he wasn't able to say the Empire was after the kid still, he had sent the transmission of Plan 88. To go underground. To hide. But they hadn't listened. He should have known they wouldn't have listened to him. Now they all had to live with the consequences. Or, How the rest of the Batch rescue Crosshair and Omega whilst thinking Tech is dead, but he isn't. A/N: Now here's at the beginning of all this mess canon handed us , with Tech falling on Eriadu & nOT DYING !! I have no beta this all mistakes are mine. Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star War : The Clone Wars & Star Wars : The Bad Batch. Neither am I associated with Lucasfilms , Disney+ , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. I make no money off any of my stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. Read On : ao3 | under the cut part one

Tech had seconds.

That much was glaringly obvious, for the maths was simple and if this didn't work, then at least he knew exactly how long it would take to hit the ground. There always was a small comfort in knowledge, especially in knowing when precisely he would meet his end. It was always a possibility with how he was created, then with the war, and now with living as mercenaries for hire the last ten months, thus it was never a factor that wasn't present. But the exact way that death would come? That was always an unknown.

There were possibilities that were more likely than the rest. A blaster bolt, for example, had the highest probability, whereas dying via old age hadn't ever been considered by him… That was until they had come to Pabu.

Their few weeks stationed themselves there was the first time Tech had allowed his thoughts to wander towards the future that ended with them all safe and content without need for blasters or combat. Although he wasn't naive enough to believe they would truly settle down without Crosshair, or when Echo was fighting against the Empire with Rex. It had been when the possibilities of seeing any age past his prime rose. The numbers had become notable then rather than negligible.

Which had only added to his innate motivation to not simply go out without fighting against it.

With the echoing notes of Wrecker’s scream when he fell still ringing about his ears, no less muted by the rushing of the wind nor the harshness of each breath he took. The higher pitched cries that had belonged to Omega calling out his name had dissipated about the air at his descent down, through the layers of fog-like clouds and he knew he didn't have much time to act. Despite the depth of this valley, gravity would always prove a victor.

Thus as he flipped over in the air, he reached down to unlatch the accession cable attached to his belt in order to press the release on the hook and remount the base back onto his DC-17 whilst the line retracted. It whipped wildly as it returned, but Tech could see the tops of the trees very near in his peripheral now so he didn't let up.

Attempting instead to turn against the currents pressing up on his and racing past, to have his front facing the drop rather than his back or feet first. Working to spread his legs outwards along with his arms in a small effort to widened his surface area and slow his drop without hampering the lines’ return, it lashed against the plastoid of his reebrace when it wildly caught in an updraft before the recoiling system dragged it away as it kept winding it back up.

Level now with the very tips of the tall pines that lined the mountainous valley Tech twisted about in that very moment to fire off the cable the moment it gave the subtle jolt within his hand signifying the line was finally set and ready. Usually an audible click accompanied the small movement, but it was lost to the fierce whooshing of the wind.

Aiming took hardly a fraction of a moment, nearing the upper branches of the trees directly below him provided plenty of targets and he fired.

The line caught, sticking fast on the trunk of the nearest pine just above a bough and he fell for only a microsecond more before it snapped taut with such a swiftness that Tech was certain he knew now what a whip must feel like when it's cracked.

He felt the abrupt halt to his descent, then the immediately reversed his downward motion to yank him bodily towards the side. His muscles strained right along with every ligament and tendon within his lithe frame at the suddenness of the change as they were pulled against with a viving force than the one he had been pullmetted towards the rocky ground with.

A grunt involuntarily left his lips as he grappled with the tethering line, his gloves being vehemently bitten into despite their reinforced quality and he could feel the pressure against the flesh beneath. Far less protected by callouses than they should have given his profession, but all clones were used to wearing gloves when doing most activities thus they afforded more protection than if he were barehanded.

Yet steadfast his grip remained upon his decee that connected him to the ascension line, or so he had strove to keep ahold of it, but his trajectory had now slung him through the clusters of needles that grew from the thin branches of the emergent layer of trees. The pine needles lashed against his armour and in every in-between of the plastoid pieces, thankfully the fabric of his modified blacks protected him from any true harm they could inflict. Although, he felt the beginnings of the stings of it due to the repeated hits, it was negligible.

And it was nothing compared to when the middle of the line caught fast on a branch above him and wrenched him towards the left, directly into the thick of the forest rather than the screed ravine that split through the expanse of greenery he had been falling towards.

Feeling his eyes widened against his will, Tech had only a split second to brace himself before he impacted the dense layer of the lower canopy and upper midstory. He had split second to hope his decision to hang onto the line rather than let go and attempt to catch his fall on a random branch would prove more beneficial, but he figured that his chances were near the same no matter his next choice.

As usual, Tech hadn't been wrong, for he only managed to keep his grip on his blaster through the first impact of his left leg to a branch then another glancing off his right hip before the next branch tangled the line to spanner it from his hands and send him falling chest first into the bough in front of him.

Audibly he heard the alloy of his cuirass crack against the unforgiving wood as the collision knocked the breath from his lungs, eliciting a choked noise from the back of his throat even as his arms sought to grasp onto the thin twig-like branches that sprouted from the main limb, but it was futile.

His armour scraped against the rough bark, it tugged at the fibres of his gloves, yet it did little to assist him in keeping ahold of it. For so violently deprived of oxygen his muscles suddenly were as he fought to draw a full breath combined with the pain of slicing through his midsection had him slipping from his precarious perch. And down he was falling again.

With no line to tether him, nor any secondary ascension cable to attach to his remaining DC-17, there was even less he could do for himself than before.

Crashing down through several more sprigs and branches, Tech scrabbled to find a handhold to halt his descent. Feeling each crash batter against his frame, the solidness of the pinewood yielded none to the plastoid of his armour. Repeated strikes weakened it ever still, and he felt more than one portion of it crack through completely whilst the material of his gloves ripped through to bloody his fingertips in his attempts to grasp onto the branches. Needles and chipped bark fell in clumps with him.

At the mercy of gravity, no matter how much he attempted to latch onto and cling to the branches that he fell against and past, he was falling too quickly. Every modicum of a grip or chance he received was torn from his grasp.

And any further effort ended when he felt his helmet strike against one, hitting it with enough force to cloud his vision at a wave of dizziness. The underside of his bucket must have caught on the twiggy offshoots of the branches because he felt it sharply tugged partway up his face, obscuring his whirlwinded view all the more.

Darkening it completely when the catch jolted his head forwards, pulling at the muscles of his neck and smacking his now only partially protected head into something solid that rammed his forehead into the lower portion of helmet with a distinct splitting crunch. The last thing he felt was a warm wetness sluice down his face before all else was swallowed up into nothingness.

— & .. ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ʙᴀᴛᴄʜ .. & —

Awakening without being able to draw breath, coughing and choking upon an influx of liquid had Tech panicking for the briefest of moments. Instinctively he flung his arms outwards as his eyes flew open, only to be greeted by the blurry blue-green hued darkness of being underwater and that at least had his mind settling even as his lungs ached for air and the urge to cough nearly had him opening his mouth to do just that.

Immediately he moved his arms in motion to swim, heedless of the sharp aching he felt in his limbs and the rest of his frame, pushing against the flowing water in an attempt to reach the surface before reflexive instinct to breath won out over his strength of will. There was no bottom he could feel when he kicked out with his legs, having to clench his jaw tight against the pain that flared at the action, but there was a pulling current to the water which he distantly categorised as a river judging by its depth and power behind the tide.

At the mercy of the river’s current, he felt himself dragged further down despite his endeavours to kick and swim his way above the water. But in this it offered him a reprieve, for he felt his boots hit something solid and he shoved off of it instantly, worried the flow would pull him away before he could utilise this stroke of luck. Whether it had been a boulder or the bottom of the riverbed, Tech wasn't certain but it was enough to allow him the leverage against the undertow to break the surface.

He came up coughing, every fibre of his chest afire from the lack of oxygen and from the water he had inhaled earlier when he had awoken underwater. Striving to keep his head up in spite of being wracked with hacking coughs and the urge to heave at the back of his throat, his sole focus at present was consumed with clearing his lungs and staying above the waterline.

However, he knew he could simply float downstream for long, the risk of another undercurrent dragging him under or his endurance failing before he could reach shore was too great. Drowning was still a possibility if he didn't act fast, already Tech could feel the weakness of his limbs from the injuries he sustained in the fall as well as the exertion of swimming beginning to fatigue his abused muscles.

Struggling not to give into another coughing spell, Tech tried to keep each breath shallow yet even to ensure he didn't trigger the itch at the back of his throat anymore, but was thwarted by a dip in the river. It plunged him underwater again before he could take a breath in, submerging him entirely for a handful of moments then spitting him above the water once more as the current shifted abruptly around the large rocks beneath its surface.

Tech sputtered, gasping and coughing in equal measure to clear his throat and sinuses. Succeeding in calming his diaphragms attempts to wring his lungs of every ounce of moisture he had inhaled long enough to draw a breath, then another, only to have the air punched from his chest when the torrent slammed him back first into a rock that protruded up from below.

The swift current having swelled to a frothing white, not rapids quite yet but relentless in their speed and influence. Nearly falling beneath the surface again, Tech reflexively flung out his arms in an attempt to keep afloat as he was whirled sideways by the pressing force of water. His breath wheezed, every inhale and exhale was faint, grating against his inflamed throat up from his battered torso.

Unable to dispel with the urge to cough, near involuntary it had become by the amount of water he inadvertently aspirated, the paroxysm wracked through his frame to expel the water from within. Near heaving at this point since ensuring his mouth and make didn't sink below the water was impossible, no matter how much he worked to swim against the current.

There was no lull afforded to him though as his legs struck a rock hidden just underneath the aerated roiling of the water, spinning him boldly around to face upstream then sending him back about when his shoulder collided with another rock. Under he went again, snatched from the surface by a riptide and held beneath for the longest spell.

No matter how much he fought against it, swimming at an angle with every ounce of energy and strength he held, it didn't release its grip upon him. Not until he felt himself slammed into a cluster of rocks that sprouted up from the water higher than the rest. The pressure from the current held him in place, cradled with the cleft between them. Pinned between the force of the water and the reintence of the stone, held suspended in a breathless darkness before the equally obstinate water of the river shoved him onwards downstream.

Meeting a ruffling of the waters, one where the craggy riverbottom, diffused with more rocks and boulders rather than any shale or sediment, agitated the singular direction of the river’s flow and he was able to break through the surface once again. More so pushed towards it in a swirling rush of eddied water.

Ragged was the gasp Tech gave, reflexive and desperate it was. Followed by a series of harsh coughs in between sporadic gulps of air that he forced to shorten due to it triggering more coughing. Deliberate and measured, he kept count in his head whilst he aimed to reorientate himself.

Near blind from the water streaming into his eyes from his wet hair and that splashed over his face from the rapidness and sheer fierceness that the river splashed up from the spatterings of rocks that dotted through its expanse, even though the it had widened here thus slowed its main current, it was still fast moving and roiled due to the erracticly set rocks beneath the surface, aided by the downwards slope it travelled.

Tech blinked several times against the blurriness in hopes to help clear his eyesight and risked reaching a hand up to brush against the lenses of his goggles, but before he could complete the action it registered that his goggles weren't over his eyes as they usually were.

The normal yellow hue his world normally held due to their tinting was entirely absent as was the corrective nature of the lenses within, which would account for the majority of the fuzziness to his sight.

Either they had been lost when he had fallen through the trees or had been swept away by the river along with the protection of his helmet, he didn't know which, but dwelling on their loss wouldn't help him any now. Even if it meant inconvenience and trouble in the future.

And he hadn't a moment more to think of it, for he could see the churning white colour downstream telling of more rapids swiftly approaching and with that likely more undercurrents and rocks along the way. Tech knew he wasn't likely to survive another bout against them. He had to act now.

Angling himself to swim diagonally through the river’s decreased flow towards the bank nearest him. He worked to slice through the tugging pull of the current rather than fighting against it or allowing it to hold true sway over his direction, kicking his feet hard and paddling his arms.

Fighting through the tiredness that weighed down his limbs and the heaviness that tugged at every breath he drew, measured and sparse, he focussed upon the shoreline rather than the fast approaching white foam that curled around the water-worn boulders jutting out from the rushing water. The blurriness of his eyesight wasn't gradient enough to disguise the danger that lay a mere twenty paces downstream, and again he was plainly aware that he had less than a quarter of a minute to swim far enough to reach the bank.

Or what could be called a bank that was entirely composed of rock, far behind him was the reedy and grass coated shore he had caught glimpse of before being swept further downstream. Now, he had no choice but to reach the visibly drench stone of the river’s edge and hope there would be handholds enough for him to haul himself up out of the water.

Breath catching within his chest, Tech couldn't withhold the cough that sprang forth at the twinge there and he spat away the wetness he felt come up as his lungs still retaliated against the excess moisture he had inhaled. Yet the motion had his legs dropping down in the water in an attempt to keep his head held above the surface, to which he felt the toes of his boots skid against the unyielding yet slippy texture of a sunken rock.

Stretching down and swimming against the current for a spell, Tech attempted to plant his boots solidly onto it and push off of it to propel him towards the shore. Ignoring the lancing of pain that shot up his left leg, from foot to thigh, he struck out a hand over hand towards the river smoothed stone that was the riverbank.

Managing to swim close enough with the tide’s help now to nearly crash into it, but Tech reached out a hand to grip at a deviot in the rockface by his fingers. Straining the appendages, he looked about with a squinted gaze in search of a proper way up whilst he dropped his legs downwards in hopes to feel any sort of riverbed or other rocks beneath him to jump up off. But his feet kicked at only water.

With little choice left, Tech reached up towards the backwards slope of the rock he clung to, feeling with the fingers of his other hand the way it dipped downwards and allowed him to precariously grip the curved edge of it. Wet and eroded by the river waters to a smoothness that even moss and algae didn't grow on it, made for a better yet worse hand grip. Nearly rounded out by the persistent current that pressed against it, there weren't any more lips nor divets Tech could use to climb up.

Physically feeling his strength wane the longer he remained, compounded by the various uncategorised injuries that littered his frame and the fight he was still having with the river’s pull, Tech tensed in preparation to haul himself up. Gritting just teeth against both the ignition of pain along his upper back and the strain of levering his own body weight plus that of his waterlogged armour and gear up the rockface, he felt his muscles of his arms and torso tremble. His breath held captive within his chest, unavoidable given coughing at present would certainly send him back into the drink rather than help.

Managing to drag himself upwards enough so that the bottom of his cuirass was past the rock’s arched edge, Tech leant forwards to rest his plackart against the stone whilst he risked shifting his left hand’s grip to reach forwards and latch onto the exposed and gnarled roots of a nearby tree that brimmed the shoreline. Despite their weathered state, they weren't dry nor dead, still attached firmly to the main snarl of roots that stretched across the shale surface to dive deep into the earth beyond the rocks.

He entangled his fingers amongst the spindly rootlets, using them as an anchor to pull himself further up over the edge of the bank. Flinging his other hand out to snatch onto a thicker portion of the roots, then lifting a leg up from where they still dangled in the water to draw his knee up onto the top of the stone, bracing it there just when the scraggy roots his left hand held gave away.

The motion jerked his frame, his other leg still over the side and trailing in the river, Tech scrambled to renew his handhold of the roots on that side before he upended his balance all together and fell back into the water. His hand only grasped damp soil and another array of weedy roots that loosened under his weight.

Muscles straining to keep the grip he did have with his right hand whilst his polyen audibly skirted against the finitely porous grain of the rock underneath him as he slipped a fraction, Tech wound his hand in the thin knot of exposed radicles. When they didn't give away under the tension, he pulled on them in tandem with his other hand to lever himself more so up. Able to bring his other knee out of the water entirely and up onto the top of the rock.

Not releasing his hold on the roots until he had crawled forwards enough to move his legs away from dangling over the edge, not willing to risk remaining so close to the river now that he was free from it.

Releasing his white-knuckled grip on the roots, Tech collapsed forwards onto his elbows. Dirt adhered to his hands, sticking to every bend and faint crevice of the natural lines in his flesh, mingling with the red pressed indents from how very hard he had clutched at the tree’s roots. Scratches along his hands, gloves ripped and torn open, from his previous fall bled afresh now that there was no water to wash it away.

Drawing in a ragged breath, heavy and deep his gasp was. The action ended up spasming in his chest. Abused flesh and the bone beneath, insides irritated further by the water he had inhaled, had him coughing anew. Hacking and violent, to the point he was left dry retching in between expulsions of air and whatever moisture may have been left in his lungs.

Near faint by the time the paroxysms began to taper off, breathless and utterly spent, Tech slumped forwards to rest his head against the damp earth between his forearms. Vaguely aware of the sting it elicited across his forehead, more so occupied with striving to keep breaths even and resisting the urge to draw in as much air as possible lest he hyperventilate.

Yet every breath, hitched and wheezed though they were abrapted against his throat, each inhale and exhale involuntarily taken by sharply aching and beaten lungs. Another coughing fit was threatened at the edges of every inhale, which he hoped to stave off until he less winded.

A fleeting thought towards the state of his ribs drifted through Tech’s mind at registering the familiar pain, it felt distant however. Overlaid by a bone-weary exhaustion that blanketed against the pain in his chest and every other hurt he could vaguely feel beyond the fatigue.

The darkness that had been playing at the edges of his vision since he had woken up half-drowned in the river finally began to encroach further across his field of view, wavering his sight and swaying the world about him until he tipped over to fall onto his side on the tufted ground. The spark of pain that jolted through his torso at the jarring motion was swallowed up by the blackness that encompassed his vision and an instantaneous plunge towards unconsciousness.

TBC.