#and that railcar starts moving

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 4.5k

chapter summary: you and javier get off on a rocky start.

warnings: canon typical violence, arguing, a brief reference to Ellie and the main TLOU plot, no y/n

Deadhead - A railcar or locomotive that is being transported empty, typically to be used for future shipments.

The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The vest Javier wore dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back and pistol snug on his hip. The lovely weather mocked him, taunted him. It was a lie. A facade. The color, the white clouds, the green grass— all of it seemed muddled now. If he tried hard enough he could see specks of blood, tainting the visual that could as well be a spitting image of a Van Gough painting. 

But despite it all. Despite knowing it’s a lie, despite knowing the horror, he still wore the letters; F E D R A— Federal Disaster Response Agency. He liked to think that they were doing some good. At least they drove the wretched infected underground, right? They did one good thing, so that made the killing, the rape, and the torture okay. 

Right? 

“Fuck me.” he muttered into the wind, hoping the words, later on, would be carried back to him, reminding him that hey, at least I knew something was wrong. 

He noticed someone walking up to him. He was expecting it, really. Micheal Coghlan. The man who by some goddamn miracle still carried goodness inside of him. The type of goodness that would radiate through the cracks of skin and bone, the type that would bring light to a person’s face. 

Micheal had a limp. 

It was caused by someone Javier knew but didn’t particularly like. He saw it happen. He still heard the bone snapping into two when he closed his eyes at night. The man stood next to him and Javier observed him from the corner of his eye. Once upon a time, he could call his face roguishly handsome. It wasn’t a sharp face, round around the edges, with a bit of stubble; shaved by his sister no doubt. His eyes were kind, a darker shade of brown compared to his own, lips thin and chapped. Thirsty. 

Javier cleared his throat, hand going to his waist, he pulled out his flask and offered it to him. 

“Water?” 

He took it without an answer. Drank it in a way where water droplets would stream from the corner of his lips, his gulps loud. It made Javier feel awkward. Micheal stood a bit straighter when he offered the flask back. It was empty. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Javier asked. 

Micheal smiled and crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. “The people.” 

It’s a bird violently flying into the window that wakes you. 

Your eyes open fearfully, your heart beating a mile a minute. Your breathing is uneven. Dust clings to both the inside of your throat and skin. Eyes still wide open, you stare at the ceiling of the train. The seats you managed to sprawl yourself upon are uncomfortable, jagged metal sticking into your skin, making ugly marks and dents. When your breathing calms, and body relaxes, you slowly get up. 

The weather is hot, yet gray clouds decorate the sky. The heat of rain, you like to refer to it as. You can barely see the sun, the light of it filtered through the gray, painting the world into a muted color. Fitting. 

You hear a snore and direct your gaze toward the sound. You see the boots that belong to a man that’s sleeping a couple of rows ahead, too big to truly fit and get comfortable. Javier Peña. You heave yourself up by grasping the heads of the seats, your legs aching and stumbling like a newborn doe’s. His shirt is unbuttoned from the top, revealing golden, scarred skin. Your eyes trail further down, and they don’t stop until you see the gun strapped to his waist. You think about how easy it would be to just take it, to shoot him and try to find your people. 

Then you remember. They’re all gone. You have no people. Marlene’s words were clear;

The girl’s gone. No more soldiers, no cure, no nothing. The fireflies are dead; you’re on your own now. 

A chill crawls up every inch of your skin. Why are you even here? Why are you with him of all people? You’re not sure yet. It’s much easier to dislike him when he’s not speaking and his eyes are closed. 

You hate that when they are closed, the only memory of them is him being struck with fear, the flames behind you mirrored in his eyes. Kansas City quickly became a place of destruction and death. It was unexpected and with every fabric of your being, you wished you had never seen it. 

“Why are you watching me?” his voice startles you; it’s deep with sleep. “It’s creepy.” 

“I was thinking about taking your gun and shooting you.” 

“I’ve always loved an honest woman. What stopped you?” 

“I have no place to go.” 

“Neither do I, as you know,” he says. He finally opens his eyes, but only to stare at the ceiling in a similar way you did not moments ago. “So where does that leave us?” 

You don’t understand what he’s asking you. The air is still.  Javier takes a sitting position, his elbows pressed into his knees and hands hanging loosely between his legs. 

“I say we stay here,” he says, voice firm.

“The train?” you ask, confused.

He shrugs. “Why not? It’s covered pretty well, it’s far enough for people to see and close enough if—god forbid—we want to head back into the city.” 

“You want us to live together?” 

“I want us to turn this into a living space. After that leave, if you want,” he rubs his thumb into the corner of his lips. “Though I wouldn’t really advise leaving, and I definitely need your help.” 

“So I should stay because?” 

“Safety. Security.” his smile is bitter. “What else can a person want during the end of times?” 

“Someone they can trust.” 

“You can trust me.” 

You look him over. He must’ve sensed your immediate hostility because his gaze slowly moves to you. He returns your suspicion in like, contemplating what to say. You don’t trust him. He doesn’t trust you. Javier’s fingers twitch and his hand moves to clap over his pocket. He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the familiar shape of a cigarette box. 

He licks his lips again. 

You gaze out the windows. They’re thick with dust and vines, the outside seems a tad bit brighter now, the gray clouds clearing up a bit. 

“Being addicted must be hard,” you mutter. “What are you going to do when you run out? Sacrifice yourself for a box of Marlboros?” 

He chuckles. “Maybe. Who knows. I’m not out of stock yet.” 

“Not a very comforting thing to hear from a man that’s arguing that I should trust him.” 

“It’s not like I said I’d trade you for a pack of cigarettes.” 

“Who knows. That’s what you said, right?” 

He sighs and gets up. He walks down the narrow hall of the train, hands brushing over the headrests. You follow him outside, and just like you suspected, the weather is grossly warm with no light. The dry weeds crunch under your boots. Javier pulls out the crumpled pack and offers you one; you shake your head. You’re surrounded by trees, with little to see except the sky.

“Wouldn’t want to dry out your stock faster.” 

“That scared of what I’ll do if I run out?” he smiles, placing the butt of the cigarette between his lips. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re paranoid or smart.” 

“Paranoia works.” 

“I guess that’s true.” he mutters, lighting a match. “So what are you going to do? Stay or leave?” 

Javier inhales deeply, his lips not too tight not too loose. A soft groan vibrates from the back of his throat and he lets go of the smoke. Your eyes follow the dance of it, twisting and dissipating like the vapor on the first exhales of winter. He places the cigarette back between his lips and tucks his hands behind as he leans back into the metal surface of the train.  

He waits as you think. It’s ironic really, the fact that you’re actually contemplating staying with him. Needless to say, FEDRA and the fireflies don’t have the best relationship, but you guess that’s all behind you now. There are no organizations at this moment, no rebellions. Just him and you; two people looking for a way to survive. 

You turn to stare at the train. It’s nearly completely intact— there are six cars and the locomotive. If you stare hard enough you can spot the tracks buried under the moss and grass. It would take a lot of work, but indeed it was possible to turn it into a living space. 

“Give me a gun,” you say and he smiles. 

“What makes you think I have more than one?” 

“Then give me the one.” you press. 

“The first thing you said to me this morning was that you wanted to shoot me.” he pushes himself away from the metal surface. Pulling his cigarette away from his lips, he stands an inch away from you and holds your gaze. His smile disappears as smoke fans across your face, making your stomach churn. “Are you going to stay?” he asks. 

“If you give me the gun then sure.” you tilt your chin up. “I don’t trust FEDRA.” 

“I’m not FEDRA anymore and you’re not a firefly.” 

“You were once. I think you can see why I have my reservations. You weren’t just any FEDRA soldier, you were a part of it in Kansas City. I heard horror stories about that place.” you rub your eyes, trying to erase what they had seen. “And I actually witnessed the fables.”  

Javier takes a step back then, admitting defeat. Something horrific seems to cross his face, a series of violent images perhaps, or maybe it was the loss of his “friends” whatever it was you don’t pay much mind to it. Everyone has pain. Even children who are meant to be carefree and happy. You’re surprised when he suddenly hands you the gun, cigarette loose between his lips. You take the weapon. It’s heavy in your hand, cold between your fingers. 

“Satisfied?” 

“Very much so, yes.” you don’t smile, but you pull an expression very similar to it. He exhales another breath of smoke, and you push the gun under your waistband. “Where do we start?” 

“You can’t be serious, Carillo.” 

It was dark and he could barely see the figure of his colleague. Javier had the intention of stepping forward and taking the gun from the other, but he stood there instead, heart beating in his throat. His stomach churned, bile thick on his tongue. Carillo didn’t bother to look at him. There was a man that was on his knees in front of the captain, his head bowed, shaking like a leaf. Carillo aimed his gun at him, his jaw tense. 

“You rather them kill us?” 

“I rather none of us kill each other.” 

Carillo finally turned to him then. Javier would expect the captain’s eyes to soften but they didn’t. 

“You heard what happened in the other QZ’s,” he spat. “Soldiers being killed, murdered. The people rioting. We can’t let weeds grow free Peña, he already killed one of us. You heard the rumors to overthrow FEDRA.” 

Before Javier could say anything a gunshot echoed, a body fell lifelessly to the concrete. He didn’t move. He didn’t even twitch. He just watched. Carillo placed a hand on his shoulder and the skin under Javier’s shirt burned—his stomach trembled then. 

“Ya no vivimos en un mundo de misericordia. Elige un bando.” 

Pick a side. 

Carillo left, Javier followed. Without thinking, his hand went to his empty flask. The cool metal under his fingertips did little to soothe him.

It’s odd being here with him. You feel trapped by nature, by circumstance. Nothing is the same and nothing would ever be the same. You lean over and sweep out the glass into a tattered bag. Javier had decided on burying the glass or anything else you might find and have no use for down into the dirt. You didn’t have any objections to that. When you lean over to pick up a piece of a broken wine bottle, you feel the gun Javier gave you pressing into the skin of your hip. 

You always hated cleaning before the outbreak. Now it was a soothing thing to do. It felt normal. A reminisce of the past. Still, you can’t help but feel sick from being at ease. Change has to happen. But with the immune girl gone, and the fireflies basically disbanded (at least that was what you could tell from Marlene's massage) there is nothing you can do. 

You see Javier approaching, a sheer amount of sweat coats his skin, his shirt clinging to his body. Surprisingly, he’s silent. You had expected him to talk, to pry into your past life. But he seemed to be content with just cleaning for now. 

“We should scout the area,” he says when he catches your gaze. “Look for abandoned houses, supplies. Maybe we can find a fruit bush or something and plant some here for food.” 

“You do know there’s no way this is going to be like…a peaceful suburb residence right?” 

“A man can only dream.” 

He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow and your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“I need to ask,” you say and he piques with interest. “Why FEDRA? No offense but you don’t exactly look the type.” 

“I remember you saying that the first time you saw me.” 

“Still surprised you didn’t shoot me then, considering who I was.” 

“No offense but you didn’t exactly look the terrorist type. I didn’t know who, or what, you were.” 

“We weren’t terrorists.” 

“So you guys didn’t plant bombs?”  he asks sounding amused. “You didn’t kill people?” 

You narrow your eyes, heat pooling under your skin. “Only pieces of shit like you.” 

“I thought I didn’t look the type?” he sighs and shakes his head. “Look I’m not going to argue the ethics of it all and you’re definitely right. The things they—we did, FEDRA, It’s inexcusable. But don’t come here and tell me the fireflies were squeaky clean.” he takes the broken bottle from you and throws it into the bag. “I don’t want to fight about this. I don’t want to argue with you all the time. I’m not telling you I’m a good person, I don’t understand why you have to remind me. I know I’m not.” 

Silence follows. Your anger shifts into guilt and you push those feelings down. He gives you one last stern look before turning his back to you. 

“But neither are you so let’s stop bulshitting ourselves. And if you’re going to start interrogating me about my decisions—about my past— I recommend you not cuss me out a minute later.” 

His steps are loud as he leaves. You notice he left the bag behind, meaning that you managed to rile him up enough that he just had to get away from you. You probably deserved that. You don’t understand how he can shove the past aside so carelessly, how he can just forget what he’d done, what you’d done. But he was right, you aren’t a good person. Unlike him, you enjoy believing that you are. Joining the fireflies…it made you believe that you were doing good, that you were better and more noble. The killings you did were for the greater good, the people that ended up under the rubble of explosions were just a sacrifice that needed to be made—you told yourself that, again and again. 

Maybe you aren’t as bad as FEDRA but you aren’t that above it either. 

You contemplate going after him. Apologize without actually apologizing. You remember a time you used to break the tension by making a joke, how did you do that again? You can’t quite remember. 

You shake your head and continue to clear out the debris. He’ll come back. You can think about what to do then. 

Javier does eventually come back, but not before the sun had set. 

The stars appear one by one, and you hate to admit that you’d worried about him. Being alone is worse than being with someone you hate. 

Dirt and dust sit uncomfortably on your skin. After an entire day of work, you managed to clear out the broken glass, rust metals, dead insects, and rodents (you shudder at the memory). Now all of it lays outside, waiting to be taken further away from the train. 

“Where were you?” you ask when he arrives, you notice a bow strapped to his back. “And where did you find that?” 

“Careful, it almost sounds like you were worried about me.” he grins as if he hadn’t stormed away from you when the sun was at the very top. You decide to let it slide. He lifts two rabbits and your eyes go wide. “I went looking around a bit. Found this in an abandoned cabin, then did some hunting. Assuming you’d be hungry.” 

“Thanks. I…actually forgot that we need to eat.” 

“Help me build a fire?” 

You answer. “Sure.” 

The process of building a fire has become as natural as breathing air. If it were a couple of years ago, most people wouldn’t know how to build a fire but that wasn’t the case now. You doubt that anyone who had survived in this world did so by not knowing how to create flames from scraps of wood and dried leaves. Even the children know. That’s just the world they grow up in now. 

Your eyes constantly follow him whenever he moves and you can’t decide if it’s due to old habits or is it because of something else. He has a bizarre aura about him. Something that you can’t quite read. He’s soft. You’ve met a lot of FEDRA soldiers back in the day, have argued and fought against them, but you never met someone like him. He has a bite to his words, but you see the kindness swirling in his eyes, suffocating him from the inside out. It’s an odd contrast and makes you feel uncomfortable. 

He’s a man that has been beaten down by the world and the system. Him asking you to stay here is his way of giving up on everything he wanted for the world. You can see it as vividly as you see the stars. Just glimpses of his backstory winking down at you. 

The flames come alive, roaring and eating the rabbits whole. Javier had taken the job of cooking for himself, patiently watching the fire, he pokes the sizzling meat from time to time. 

“You like cooking?” you ask, and your eyes water when the wind blows the ashes into your face. 

“I did,” he answers without looking. “I wouldn’t really say I particularly enjoy cooking this.”

You cross your legs as Javier hands you a branch, skewered with rabbit meat. You take a moment to examine the branch, noting the rough texture of the wood and the way it's been stripped of any leaves or twigs. The delicate slices of meat have been threaded onto the branch with care and precision, each one spaced perfectly apart.

He takes his own portion and sits across from you, the flames curling into the air in between. He doesn’t say a word as he takes the first bite. You watch him chew. The flames lick his face, the tip of his nose a dusted red. Javier swallows and when he does you bring a piece to your lips and slowly chew. It’s gamey, slightly sweet. Overall, tastes pretty damn good. 

Your lips twitch up to a small smile. Biting into it more eagerly this time, your stomach growls as you swallow. 

“This actually tastes pretty good,” you mutter, feeling the fat from the rabbit coating your lips. 

“Well, don’t go overboard.” 

“It’s the truth.”

When you lower your gaze back down to the meat, you don’t miss the way a smile curls at his lips. The night grows louder and you two finish the rest of your dinner in silence. You hear crickets, the leaves rustling with the wind. A sweet scent touches your nose, something like newly blossomed flowers. You look into the distance and all you can see is darkness. 

Your eyes play games with you, shows you shadows of people, tricks you into thinking that you and Javier might’ve been followed by Katleen’s resistance. 

You blink. 

No. 

There’s no one there. 

Your pulse skyrockets, your heart beating in your throat. Vibrating, you turn back to Javier only to see that he’s already staring at you. His look is one of understanding, his lips relaxed as his eyes flit around your face. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I just thought—” you look back to the silhouette of trees. “I thought I saw something.” 

“The curse of the forest,” he answers, placing a cigarette between his lips. He realizes he doesn’t have his matches with him so he leans forward and lights it from the source. Javier’s face illuminates, and you see splashes of blood, of death. It lingers over his skin, curls around his throat, stains the white of his eyes. “It makes us see things we don’t wanna see.” 

“There was this girl,” you suddenly say, swallowing down the gasp that threatened to slip from your lips. He raises an eyebrow and sits back, listening. “Marlene told us that she was immune. I was supposed to meet up with them in Boston.” 

“Immune?” he scoffs. “Immune to what?” 

“Cordyceps.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“No, it’s true,” you answer with a sudden need to convince him. You’re not sure why. “She got bit and never turned.” 

“Did you actually see it?” he exhales a puff of smoke when you shake your head. He believes he made his point. “So what about this girl? Is there a reason why you’re telling me this or are you just that afraid of the dark?” 

You bite into your bottom lip, the sting offering a fleeting relief. “It’s not that I’m afraid. It’s just too silent. It feels…naked.” 

“Naked?” he asks, grinning, he steals the cigarette from between his lips and evens his gaze with yours. “We’re covered, cariño. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Famous last words,” you tease, ignoring how his tongue rolled as he mumbled cariño. “I guess I’m not used to it yet. There’s always something to fight. Someone is always lurking in the shadows.” 

He voices out the rest of your thoughts, “It’s like all the noise and chaos of the world has disappeared, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath of the crisp forest air. 

Emotionally, you want to lean into him. There’s a need in your chest that doesn’t go away but it’s tainted with the anger and the hatred of the organizations that tear you away from each other. He might’ve wanted to do good once, but he chose the wrong side. He thought fireflies were terrorists, and maybe to some you were. However, at least you weren’t fascists and tried to help the people. For better or for worse.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” he says, guiding your attention back to him. Javier looks up to the sky, takes a deep inhale of smoke. It spills from his lips as he continues. “To have someone by your side.” 

No, you think as you get up and head into the train, it doesn’t. 

You don’t know what it is this time that wakes you up. There’s no noise. The only thing that convinces you that you’re not in a soundproof cell is the moonlight filtering through the dirty windows. You watch as the pine leaves move together, you’ve always enjoyed the smell of it. The sound of it comes like an afterthought, slowly gaining and getting louder. 

You get up when you feel the train shake. 

Javier is in the same spot that he always sleeps in, only a couple rows ahead. You move past him and you sneak a glance. His lips twitch and move as he sleeps. 

Stepping outside, you take in the same sight as before. It’s still eerie. 

Interestingly enough since the fire was gone the darkness seemed lighter somehow. A shimmering blackness. The moonlight probably helped. 

Dry earth cracks under your boots. The sound of the trees now mixed with something else, something violent and cruel yet beautiful. You feel the gun on your hip and travel deeper into the forest. The scent of pine and flowers that only bloom during the night stronger. The train is still visible so you don’t worry much about the distance in between. Your fingers brush over the tree trunks, you feel the moss, the sticky resin. 

You hear a click. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Just ahead there’s a clicker, moving with its arms bent and dragging its feet through the soil. Swallowing, you take a slow step back. Then another. And another. 

The chill of the night stings your skin, sticky from sweat and burning. The clicker turns in your direction and you stop moving, your one foot suspended in the air. It gains momentum, head twisting and turning. Very slowly you lower your foot, and your heart beats loud in your chest. Surely the clicker hears it. 

Fuck. 

The sound of the branch snapping underneath you was like a gunshot, reverberating through the stillness of the woods.

You don’t even get the chance to pull out the gun on your hip. 

You’re slammed into the dirt, all air forced out of your lungs. You struggle against it but it’s too heavy, too wild to be pushed off of you. The clicker screams into your face, the stench horrid. Bile builds in your throat and coats your stomach. You’re helpless. 

It makes a move towards your hands and you pull them away, its full weight suffocating you. Killing you. You can’t breathe. 

Tears flood your eyes. You know you’re about to die because you see your life flashing before your eyes, snippets of the past and possible future. You think of the fireflies, of Marlene. You see earth cleansed from the virus. 

You see Javier. He’s smiling, leading you in a dance around the wilting flames. You don’t push the thoughts away. You take them as a blessing in moments of lingering death. 

A gunshot echoes. You hear the bullet cutting through the air, whistling in the night. It sinks into the clicker’s shoulder, you hear another one, this time the bullet strikes its head.  The clicker collapses. Before you can shove the lifeless vessel away, it’s being lifted. 

You can breathe again. 

Javier is standing before you, his brows creased with worry. His lips are parted as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it. You’re still gasping for air when you speak. 

“You had a gun.” 

“Yeah,” he heaves, sweat clinging to his chest and moonlight trickling down his skin. “I had a fucking gun.” 

Oh man, you guys have no idea how excited I am to finally be sharing the first chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'll probably be posting a new chapter every Saturday (the first 3 chapters will def go up and Saturdays, after that, if everything goes well, I'll continue it the same way)

A few thank you's are in order; @pedrito-friskito , @inklore , @fuckyeahdindjarin and @pedrorascal who listened to me go on and on about this and for their endless moral support ♥︎ and thank you to @laters-gators who beta'd this.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hey there! May I just say that I love your celebration ideas? I love this jukebox concept so much!

I'd love to request one. I remember loving the fic you wrote for my request during your previous event, and I love linking music to writing. My current favorite song is ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine, and I'd love to request it with Crosshair (surprise!). The song gives me very romantic but also melancholic vibes, and to me it means loving a place/situation/person so much that you just want the moment to last forever.

But of course, you may work your magic for this. I love your writing, and I'll be happy with whatever you choose to write 🩵 thank you so much in advance!

Thank you so much love. It means a lot that you like my crazy ideas. Love oo.

Now, your request had me stumped for a few minutes, and then the idea just flowed. I hope you like my interpretation of this song, because you're right, it has very melancholic vibes.

Love oo.

Ceilings

Warnings: Injury, AU of S2E16, tears, dream, kissing, implied coitus, promises, declarations of feelings, sacrifice, saving others, angst. I think that's it. If I missed anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Your eyes blinked as you saw the raindrops falling down on top of you. You don’t remember exactly what happened, but you see the railcars moving. They’re safe. You smile to yourself as your body screams in pain, you want to move, to get up but everything is telling you that wouldn’t be a good idea.

For some reason your eyelids feel heavy, you want to close them, to fall asleep for just a little while, but in the back of your mind you know that’s not a good idea. 

You know you need to stay away, but … something doesn’t seem right. Your mind must be playing tricks on you because you see Crosshair kneeling down beside you, smiling.

Gods, how you missed that smile. You close your eyes fighting back tears, as you feel his hand on your cheek. 

“Hey mesh’la”

“Crosshair?”

“Who else?”

“Wha … what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? It’s date night.”

You blinked as you were no longer lying on the floor of the valley on Eriadu, you were now in your living room. You looked down at your dress, it was the one Crosshair loved on you, the yellow one with white flowers on the bottom half of your skirt. You slowly sat up, shaking your head.

“I just had the craziest dream.”

“Really?” He smiled leaning in closer, “Anything you wanna recreate?” He smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You giggled, shaking your head slightly as you rolled your eyes at him, “Not that kind of dream, anyways what took you so long?”

“Sorry, Hunter was being impossible, but I’m here now” he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, claiming your mouth the way he always used to. Used to, no that’s not right. Does. The way he always does. 

You pulled back, shaking your head.

“You okay, mesh’la?”

“Yeah, just … Crosshair where are we?”

He looked around and smirked, “If I’m not mistaken mesh’la, your apartment on Coruscant,” he answered, his eyebrow arching amused with his own answer. You simply shook your head, fighting the amused look on your face. 

As you looked into his eyes, you reached your hand up and caressed his cheek. You missed touching his cheek like this, trying to comfort him as much as you could … missed? He was right here, why would you be missing touching his cheek. 

“Well shall we?” You tilted your head smiling.

“By all means,” he took your hand in his, guiding you out of the apartment, towards 79’s. 

The night progressed, with a lot of dancing, a lot of touching, and a lot of drinking. 

You remembered how he started to kiss you in the taxi, how it continued as you got on the lift to your apartment, you remembered how quickly you both got undressed. How you held him so tight afraid it would’ve been the last time. 

The next morning you watched as he got dressed, and sat beside you on the bed, “I had fun last night, mesh’la.”

“So did I, Cross.” You smiled as you held his hand, “How long are you going to be away this time?”

“Not sure, they brought us back to help with some mission to find a spy or something; doesn’t matter one mission is the same as the next. I’ll be back.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You promise?”

“Nothing could keep me away from you.”

You smirked as you looked into his eyes, “Liar.”

“Nope.” He held up his right hand, “I swear, if I’m not back it’s because I’m dead. Then you’ll have to deal with my brothers on your own.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head, “Your brothers aren’t that bad.”

He let out a huff, “Yes, they are, but you’re too kind-hearted to know the difference. Anyway that’s always been the deal, if anything happens to me, Hunter will look after you. Alright? But nothing’s going to happen, so you’re stuck with me.”

You pulled him in one last time, kissing him with all the passion and love you felt for him, “I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you, mesh’la. I gotta go. I’ll comm you when I can.”

With that he was gone.

A pain entered your head, as memories after that moment flashed through your mind, Hunter appearing at your door, telling you they had to run. Meeting Omega. Fighting for Crosshair all that time.

Your feet felt cold, as though the rain had filled your boots. You blinked and you were back on Eriadu, still on the floor of the valley. The rain was still coming down … was that rain? You touched your cheeks slowly, painfully, no… that was rain. It was tears. 

You glanced around hoping you’d see Crosshair one more time, but it wasn’t real… he wasn’t there. You breathed out one last time, unable to recall if that was really the last time you kissed Crosshair. 

Despite how hard you tried, your eyes closed as your world went dark. 

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

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[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (16)

Chapter Sixteen: Plan 99

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: There was a mission gone wrong and then there's what happened during and after Eriadu.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, MAJOR CHARACTER 'DEATH', HEAVY ANGST, my interpretation of thought processes, relatively detailed injury and torture descriptions, vomiting, slight hurt/comfort, brief kissing, Hemlock being a creep and just generally himself, I project my feelings again and reader makes a questionable choice but it needed to happen, no happy endings here

Word Count: 8.8K

Author's notes: If I have done my job right in any capacity, this'll be a rough one to get through. However, I promise I have a oneshot planned that'll fix some of what just happened and if S3 doesn't fix the rest, I will do it then!

You helped Hunter with opening the car doors and as you all saw the awful freefall that lay below you, you knew it was going to take a lot to get out of this situation in one piece.

“This… is not ideal.” Tech commented.

“At least we’re not hanging under the car.” Wrecker offered.

“This isn’t much better.” You said before you ducked as a round of blaster fire headed in your direction.

“Echo, get this car moving.” Hunter instructed as the rest of you fired back.

“The explosions must’ve knocked out the power to the rail line.” Echo theorised irritably.

You moved away from the edge of the doors back to the middle of the car. “What if I just take down their railcar? It wouldn’t take long.” You suggested.

Tech shook his head. “I do not think that would be wise. There would be no guarantee that the resulting impact of you destroying that line would not affect the terminal that we need to get moving. And we’d still be stuck here whilst the Empire can easily send more reinforcements and-”

“Okay, fine do it your way.” You interrupted as you went back to focusing your fire on the Imperials.

“I can try to reboot the system, but I will need to plug directly into one of the terminals on the track.” Tech said.

Hunter addressed the rest of you, “You four, give us cover, Tech up top with me.”

--

Tech and Hunter moved to the next level of the railcar and Hunter gave his brother a boost up to the roof so he could climb onto the track.

As Tech got underway, Hunter opened the other set of doors and opened fire, particularly on any soldiers that were aiming for Tech.

--

“I am plugged in. Stand by.” Tech said into his comm as he got to work.

--

You all were doing a decent enough job at holding them back. They had more numbers, but your squad was more skilled, so you were managing okay.

That feeling of things being under control did not last long as Hunter heard the familiar sounds of ships coming your way. “We’ve got three ships inbound.”

You muttered a series of expletives as you scanned the sky around you for them.

“Where? I can’t see them.” Omega asked fearfully.

“Tech, we need power!” You urged into you comm as you could hear them drawing closer with each passing second.

You all took up positions to open fire on them, but it did very little. The ships got a round of shots away and you had to fight to stay balanced as the car shook with the impact.

Tech stared at his datapad and finally the screen turned green. He tapped his comm, “Echo, now!”

Upon Tech’s word, Echo plugged back in, and the railcar finally came back online.

“Tech, get your ass back here.” You hurried as you saw the ships getting ready to make another pass.

Tech unplugged and got himself across to the main track and started running but he could hear the ships getting nearer.  

Hunter concentrated his fire on the oncoming ships. He was able to clip one in the wing and it collided into another which he thought would be enough.

It wasn’t.

The third ship came speeding through and fired a series off shots that found their mark. You all stumbled inside the car as it violently shook and struggled against the onslaught of blaster fire.

The explosion flung Tech backwards, and he fell from the track onto the roof of the bottom half of the car. He tried to stand but the resulting shot had seen to it that the back of the railcar was tearing itself away from the track and as it titled backwards, he went with it. He managed to hook his grappling cable onto one of the grates, but he was stuck hanging over the abyss.

--

“Come on, Tech! Hurry!” Wrecker implored as he peered down the broken end of the railcar.

“I am climbing as fast as I can.” Tech replied with a grunt as he started to make his way up the cable, but the additional weight and well-placed rogue enemy blaster fire exacerbated the fragile state of the car and it lurched backwards, sending him further down the cable once more.

“Tech!” Omega cried as she saw him fall whilst Wrecker debated the best way to get down the sloped hallway.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Hunter asked Echo as he took refuge from the blaster fire.

“The car’s being ripped from the track.” Another harsh vibration sounded shook through it as he tried to get it moving.

“Wrecker, get him on board.” Hunter pressed, desperation seeping into his voice, before he opened fire on the soldiers again.

Wrecker made to step down, but the car dipped significantly.

“Don’t!” Tech yelled as he fell down even further. “Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over.”

You glanced behind you at Wrecker and Omega and made the call that the others could hold the troopers off. You needed to help Tech now. Channelling the Force, you focused on the point where the two hinges met but it was already fragile, and it would take a lot of energy and focus to keep them together since they were wanting to do anything but and the circumstances were hardly ideal to have that focus but you had to make it work. You could hear more ships coming but you ignored them, you didn’t care.

“You must sever the connection hinge. Now!” Tech instructed.

“Not until you’re up here.” Wrecker argued.

“Tech, I can hold them, just climb or let Wrecker-”

“You can’t keep them steady and wait for me to get up there with the time we have left.” Tech interrupted you as he saw the ships in the distance closing in again.

“She’s got it, Tech.” Wrecker said, doing his best to keep the distress out of his voice as he edged his way forward. As he did so, the cart swayed forward, and he glanced back at you.

“Go.” You said through gritted teeth as you focused on keeping both carts level, but each moment of blaster fire and Wrecker’s added weight were making it harder.

Tech fell a few more metres as the cart continued to pull itself away from the track. He looked around and he knew what he had to do. He needed you all to get away. He wasn’t wrong about this. You all would make it out. He just needed to take himself out of the equation. “There is no time.” He pulled out his blaster. “Plan 99.”

Your heart plummeted. Not that plan, any plan but that one.

Wrecker’s heart filled with dread.

Omega felt nothing but panic.

“Tech, please-” You broke off as you channelled more of your energy into keeping both carts stable, but another round of shots meant the car swung again. Your knees buckled and your hold faltered slightly.

“Don’t you do it, Tech.” Wrecker ordered as he tried to creep forward once more but the cart continued to protest against the strain.

Tech sighed before he accepted his next course of action. It was, in a way, a rather easy decision. Omega had once asked him if they were a family. His answer had been yes, and it was true. He just didn’t think he’d really said it enough, but he loved his family. And what do families do? They protect each other… and that’s exactly what he was going to do. “When have we ever followed orders?” With that, he fired a shot through the glass of the railcar that met its mark, and the connection hinge was severed.

Even if you could hold it, you were out of time. The ships would make their pass at any second and you couldn’t prevent your section of the railcar reconnecting or else none of you would make it out of this.

And you hated it. You fucking hated it, but you were left with no choice; you dropped your hands, released your hold and watched in agony as Tech fell.

“No!” Wrecker cried out as he helplessly watched his brother fade from view and there was nothing he could do nothing to stop it.

“Tech!” Omega yelled.

The railcar reconnected to the track and sped away from the troopers on the opposite side.

Hunter grabbed Omega’s wrist as she moved closer to the open end of the car. “Omega-”

“Go back! Go back!” She said desperately, reaching out as if she could still grab him.

You felt numb. You couldn’t move. Every other noise around you sounded fuzzy. The skulking darkness that had been circling you since Saw Gerrera showed up was asking for a way in. It took every fibre of control to not let it. Hunter’s voice dragged you back to the current moment.

“The car’s going too fast.” Hunter said urgently.

“The system’s fried. I can’t stop it.” Echo replied, desperately trying to plug back in to do something to stop the rapid descent as the back wall of the station grew dangerously close.

You knew your help wouldn’t be fast enough either, and you felt Hunter’s internal conflict as his helmeted gaze darted between you and Omega. It’s Omega first, every time.

Hunter lunged for her just as the cart collided and smashed through the wall of the terminal.

--

Everything was grey, and dull and bleak.

If it wasn’t for the bitter scent of smoke in the air, she wouldn’t have been sure that she’d even opened her eyes at first.

Debris from the wreckage surrounded her.

And she ached. Her entire body burned with the pain it took to stand.

Tech. She needed to find Tech. He couldn’t be far. She called his name but only managed a few paces before she collapsed once more.

She tried to fight it, but it hurt too much, and the encroaching darkness was too tempting.

As the pain overwhelmed her, she didn’t have the strength to turn it away.

--

You groaned as you came to and immediately felt woozy as you attempted to sit up. Your hood had already come loose from the collision, but you pushed your mask down to catch your breath and breathe through the soreness radiating through your body.

You brushed the dirt off your face but felt something wet leaving a trail down your cheek. You took off your glove and touched it to find your fingertips covered in blood. You carefully followed the path of blood to the source and winced as you touched the oozing deep cut by your temple. Fighting the dizziness, you looked around to see the others pushing themselves up but then your eyes caught sight of an unmoving figure and your blood ran cold.

You forced yourself to stand, ignoring the shooting pain that coursed through your ankle, and staggered over to Omega. You dropped to your knees next to her and felt for a pulse, which thankfully you found but it was weak. “Omega, come on honey, open your eyes for me.” You begged her as her body shivered beneath your touch. You felt the others come by your side. You hung your head in relief when you saw her eyes flicker open, but she couldn’t stay awake, and you knew she was in bad shape.

“We have to get her out of here.” Hunter said, doing his best to not let the panic he felt upon seeing her like this come through.

Wrecker picked her up. “I got you, kid.”

“Incoming! Get to the Marauder!” Echo shouted as Imperial reinforcements arrived.

You picked up Omega’s bow and provided Wrecker and Omega cover fire as you all retreated back to your ship.

--

“Head to Ord Mantell. AZ can help her. Hurry!” Hunter instructed Echo as he made his way to the cockpit.

You watched Wrecker gently place her down on your bunk whilst Echo got the ship in the air and into hyperspace.

“You’re bleeding.” Hunter stated, worry etched in his voice as he brushed some of your hair back and caught sight of the mix of fresh and dried blood on your skin.

“I’m fine.” You said groggily as the fading adrenaline meant you had to work harder to fight against the light-headedness you were experiencing. You then noticed the awkward way he clutched his forearm and at the fact standing up straight appeared to cause him some issues. “Are you okay?”

Hunter didn’t answer directly. “Are any of us?”

You glanced around you and felt the anguish in everybody that you knew also resided in your own heart. “No, no we’re not.”

You focused on watching Omega’s chest rise and fall as a way to keep you grounded and willed the journey to go quickly.

--

“Cid, AZ, we need your help!” You shouted as you limped into the parlour.

Cid took in all of your various injured states and nodded, too taken aback to offer anything else.

AZ dropped the cleaning supplies he was using and flew over to Wrecker. “Follow me.” He led the way to Cid’s room.

“It is best if you leave, and I can work on her without distraction.” AZ instructed.

Neither of them really wanted to, but they didn’t want their presence to be a problem, so they did as he said.

“Where’s Goggles?” Cid asked as Hunter and Wrecker came back into the main parlour.

And it was that question that snapped you all out of what ever fatigued state of denial you were in.

You half collapsed into one of the booths and blinked back the angry, grief-stricken tears that threatened to escape.

Wrecker released a shaky breath and just shook his head as he sat down on one of the bar stools.

And Echo- now that he knew Omega was getting the medical attention she needed- just left the room. For the first time in his life, he needed the solitude.

“We- we lost him.” Hunter just about managed to say as the loss overwhelmed him and he sat down next to you. He welcomed the loving hold you took of his hand as you rested it in your lap and rubbed circles on the back of it and was grateful for tender way you pulled his head to rest on your shoulder. He ignored the slight discomfort the position caused him.

“I’ll give you guys some time alone.” Cid said quietly as she made her way towards the exit.

You all were in too much pain and too emotionally exhausted to notice the comm she took with her.

--

You’d lost track of how long you’d all spent waiting for AZ to come back with news so when he finally entered the room, the room was ripe with nervous tension. She had to be okay. She just had to be.

“AZ?” You said uneasily.

“Omega’s injuries were severe, but I have stabilised her and she should recover. It is just a matter of time of waiting for her to wake up.”

You all let out a collective breath of relief.

“Thank you.” Hunter said gratefully.

AZ nodded. “Now, what injuries of yours can I assist with?”

“(Y/N) has an actively bleeding head injury and a wounded ankle and Wrecker’s neck is causing him problems. Leave me for last.” Hunter said.

You knew disputing the order wouldn’t be helpful to anyone right now, so you let AZ come over to you first.

--

After you all were taken care of, AZ went back to monitor Omega and give you guys some space.

“What are we going to do now?” Wrecker asked as AZ left.

Hunter sighed deeply. “We have nothing to go on. No location, no leads. Nothing. And with Tech-” He broke off with a cough before continuing, “With Tech gone and Omega being hurt like that…” He paused for a moment as he considered his next words, “I can’t put her through something like this again. I can’t put any of you through it again. We’re done. We’ll find somewhere to settle.”

“What about Pabu?” Wrecker offered quietly. “She likes it, and we were going to settle there anyway… right?”

Hunter looked to you and you nodded. “He gave us another chance. We should take it any way we can.” You said, clearing your throat as the pain of the loss threatened to overcome you.

“Alright.” Hunter said before he got to his feet. “I’m going to go wait until Omega wakes up.” He left the room.

“Wrecker, will you be okay for a moment?” You asked as you also stood.

Wrecker understood. “Go.”

You bowed your head in thanks and followed Hunter.

--

You paused by the doorway and studied the way he sat in the chair as he watched over Omega. His posture was tense, and his leg bounced anxiously. You knew he was barely keeping it together, but he was making himself because he was still the leader and had to be. But you wanted to give him a chance to let himself drop the appearance, if only for a moment.

“You don’t have to be strong right now. Not in front of me.” You walked around to the front of the seat and kneeled in front of him. You placed your hand on his cheek to turn his face towards you as he was keeping his eyes firmly on Omega. At your words, it looked like a weight just left his body and he let his head and shoulders hang lowly.

“That plan was never supposed to be used.” He uttered, his throat bobbing as the mask of composure started to drop.

Your heart ached as you felt the guilt and sorrow within him. You reached up and placed your arms around his neck and just held him close to you. I’m so sorry.

“I only got two of them.” Hunter mumbled into the crook of your neck as he met your embrace.

“Hmm?”

“The ships. There were three and I only got two of them. If I had just made sure, he wouldn’t have fallen from the track. The third got the shot away that killed him.”

You pulled away as you picked up on the way the typical rasp in his voice got lower and more uneven. You cupped his face in your hands and rubbed away the stray tears. “Hunter, you can’t do that to yourself.”

“I was supposed to look after us. By taking that mission, I put everyone in danger and look what happened.”

“You went because you knew it was the right thing to do. It gave us a last chance to get Crosshair back. What happened-” You took a second to draw a calming breath of your own. “What happened was cruel and unfair, but it wasn’t your fault. I know that guilt may never truly fade, I’ve been there, but you still have the rest of us. You still have me. Whenever you need a reminder that this was not your doing, I will be there, I promise.”

Hunter couldn’t help but search for any doubt or lies in your eyes and voice but found none. He pressed his lips into your palm and the sincerity and love in your tone served to remind him that he could do this. “We’ve lost two brothers.”

You brought your forehead to press against his and whispered understandingly, “I know.”

“I can’t lose anyone else.” He breathed against your lips, but he could feel himself starting to regain the composure he knew he was going to need for what was to come.  

You placed a delicate kiss to his mouth. “You won’t.” You caressed your thumb along his cheek before you stood behind him with your hands on his shoulders as you both waited for Omega to come back around.

--

“Hunter? (Y/N)?” Omega winced with a groan as her eyes opened once more and saw you both standing by her bedside, the worry on your faces now becoming relief.

“Hiya, kid.” Hunter said warmly as he brushed some of her hair back and reached for her hand.

She let Hunter support her back as she tried to sit up and took in the various bandages that graced both of you and her own fading pain prompted the reminder that the mission had gone very wrong. “What happened?”

Before either of you could reply, AZ whirred into the room and Hunter delicately laid her back down.

“Hello, Omega. I am relieved you are awake.” He scanned her. “You each sustained multiple injuries. However, you all will make a full recovery with proper treatment and rest.”

His reassurance helped calm the anxiety you were feeling over her injuries. You tenderly hugged her as Hunter assisted in getting her upright.

“You’re- You’re okay.” Wrecker said with relief as he came into the room. He crouched in front of her. “Don’t scare us like that again.” He put an arm around her in a fond embrace.

You passed her some water. “How do you feel?”

Omega took it from you but didn’t drink it. “I don’t know. The last thing I remember, we were in the railcar when…” She released a horrified gasp as the images came flooding back. “Where’s Tech?”

“Omega, Tech didn’t make it.” Hunter said, his voiced laced with sadness at having to tell her this again. Part of him had hoped she’d remember so she wouldn’t have to go re-experience the hurt of the loss.

“We have to go back! What if he’s hurt? He- He need us. Tell him, Wrecker. We can’t just leave him!” But Wrecker only looked back at her with nothing but sorrow on his face.

“Omega…” Your voice cracked slightly as you attempted to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Omega hit your hand away. “No! Tech’s not gone! He- He can’t be!” Tears fell down her face.

Her reaction nearly broke you all over again.

“I- I know, kid.” Hunter said quietly as he moved to sit beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Reliving it all got too much for Wrecker. He wiped his eyes and backed out of the room.

You glanced over your shoulder as Wrecker left and you knew Hunter needed to talk to Omega about what the rest of you had discussed. “I’ll give you two a minute.” You said, your voice still thick with emotion.

--

“Why did Tech do that?” Omega said tearfully after you and Wrecker had left. She wiped her eyes. “He didn’t let us save him.”

“He knew we were out of time.” Hunter explained as simply as he could. “Tech put the squad ahead of himself. He made a sacrifice, Omega, and we’re not gonna waste it.”

“What does that mean?”

“The galaxy has changed, and so have we. It’s time to put being soldiers behind us for good. The three of us think Pabu could be a good place to make a new life for ourselves. And the rest of it, well, we can figure out along the way. Omega, is that something you want?”

She thought it through for a moment before she nodded.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Hunter said. This would work. You all could heal together and make it out okay. It would get better.

--

You pulled yourself onto the bar stool next to the one Wrecker was sitting on. “What can I do?” You asked caringly. You knew there was nothing you could say that would immediately ease the pain of grief, but if there was anything you could do to help, you would.

“Just being here is fine.” Wrecker mumbled roughly as he kept his emotions at bay.

You rested your hand on top of his- an act he gently mirrored with his own before he removed his hand. You know I love you, right? It was a sentiment you realised you had not shared enough with the others and you didn’t want that to continue anymore.

Wrecker breathed deeply. “I love you too… and it’s not just because you’re with Hunter. You became a part of this family long before that.”

The genuine and heartfelt way he said that touched you deeply. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. “It’s a pretty good family to have.”

“Tech would’ve been able to tell you the exact date, I’m sure he kept a record of it.” Wrecker said with a sad chuckle.

You managed a half smile at his words. “That would be in character for him.”

A natural quiet descended on the two of you.

“Did we miss something? Did we miss a way to save him?” Wrecker asked into the silence.

The question was one you had been torturing yourself with ever since the ship had left Eriadu. “What we needed was time, and- and Tech knew we were out of it by that point.”

“Yeah.” Wrecker released a dejected sigh. “He always was the smart one.”

--

“Here. These are on the house.” Cid gifted you both a drink.

“It won’t help.” Wrecker said as he nudged it out the way.

You did the same.

“I’m sorry about Goggles. I always liked him.” Cid said sympathetically.

“Yeah. Us too.” Wrecker said with a crestfallen sigh.

Despite her words, you, and Wrecker both noticed the way she kept avoiding eye contact with both of you.

“What’s with you?” Wrecker asked.

Cid gulped, “You know, I tried to look out for you guys. But you got too much heat on you. And you brought it here to my place of business. I had to make the best of a bad situation.”

You picked up on her awkwardness and agitation. “Cid, what did you do?” You asked as a hollow pit of dread sat heavy in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” That was all she said before she looked to the door.

You and Wrecker followed her stare, and a squadron of Imperial troopers came marching through the door with their blasters drawn.

You both instinctively reached for your blasters, but both of yours had been lost in the crash.

Wrecker was unaffected by the first stun blast that contacted him, and he charged at the group, but his neck brace severely limited his mobility.

You dodged the stun shot that was sent your way and realised keeping up a pretence would be pointless now. You threw your vibroblade into the shoulder of the closest threat to you before you Force-pushed multiple troopers against the back wall and used your ally to snap the wrists of others that aimed for you.

“Stop!”

You turned in the direction of the voice to see Wrecker half-conscious, kneeling on the floor with his wrists bound and a trooper holding a blaster to his head whilst the squad regrouped and pointed their weapons at you.

Your jaw tightened but you did as he ordered and let them take you. A kick to the backs of your knees brought you down. They took your comm off you and, judging by the way the cuffs he put on you were slightly different to Wrecker’s, they’d come prepared. You weren’t going to have an easy way out.

“She was right, Sir. This is the Jedi.” One of the troopers that was holding you down by the top of your shoulder said to Doctor Hemlock as he came through the crowd to stand at the front.

You glanced up at the man you now recognised as Doctor Hemlock who was staring down at you.

“Wonderful.”

--

He’d acted quickly when he knew the Empire was here and he’d kept Omega safe. That’s what mattered first. She was in the mining tunnels and on her way to Echo. The Empire wouldn’t find her. He could now focus on getting you and Wrecker back.

Hunter rounded the corner to the main parlour with his blaster drawn but his heart stopped at the sight. Both you and Wrecker were cuffed and being held at gunpoint by Imperials and Hemlock was right in the middle. He advanced forward a few paces, but the troopers focused their blasters on him.

“That’s not very strategic, Hunter.” Hemlock cautioned. “You don’t need to use your enhanced senses to know you’re outnumbered.” He turned his attention to the owner of the parlour. “The Empire thanks you for your assistance. Our business is done. Leave.”

“You piece of shit.” You hissed as you fought against the grip the troopers had on you as you watched her take the case of credits and walk out the door.

“Please consider your next move very carefully. I would hate for this to end poorly for all of you.” Hemlock advised. He paused and studied your handiwork on the wounded that were now being evacuated from the building. “Such an exquisite creature.” He brushed the fingers of his ungloved hand across your cheek. “You chose well.” He complimented the Sergeant.

You recoiled from his touch.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Hunter snarled.

Hemlock ignored the clone for now and kept his attention on you. He lifted your cuffs by the middle. “How can someone so powerful be limited so easily?” He dropped your wrists. “Please. Do me the honour of just trying to use it.”

You stared him down in refusal.

“Or both of them will be killed.” Hemlock said simply.

You gritted your teeth and hoped the message behind your eyes as you looked to Hunter was clear- he had to keep it together.

Hunter didn’t understand what was about to happen. You were telling him to stay calm and remain where he was, but he didn’t fully know why. What was Hemlock talking about?

You braced yourself as you did as Hemlock said. You were met with the expected electric current that shot through your system. You didn’t cry out despite the pain; you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you couldn’t help but fall forward on all fours. You had to take a few deep breaths before kneeling upright once more. The binds themselves had also grown tighter.

“Incredible.” Hemlock mused. “Years spent studying your people and the Force and we have barely scratched the surface of understanding you, yet science still finds ways to prove itself. Go again.”

“No!” Hunter protested. Watching you do that once was bad enough and you were hiding it well, but he knew you were in pain, and he couldn’t let it continue. Instinct took over and he moved a half step closer to you, but the line of blasters stopped him from advancing.

“How touching.” Hemlock mocked, internally thrilled that the reaction from both of you had been as he predicted. It made the process far more enjoyable. “But if you value your fellow clone’s life, you will not stop this.”

“I can- I can handle it.” You said breathlessly as a way reassure Hunter and stop him from doing anything reckless- you knew this torture was as much for him as it was for you, and you needed him alive. But you couldn’t prevent the pained grunt that left your mouth this time and you fell forward once more, and the cuffs pinched the skin of your wrists.

“Again.” Hemlock ordered you.

“Don’t.” Hunter pleaded, but he wasn’t talking to Hemlock, he was looking at you. This wasn’t something you should have to handle. There had to be another way. He should be the one to take that pain.

Whatever it required to keep them both alive. “It’s okay.” You said, your voice hoarse. You did it again and an audible cry fell from your lips.

Hemlock waited until you sat up. “Again.” He demanded.

You inhaled with a wince and did as he said.

The cycle continued until Hemlock said otherwise.

--

Hunter wanted to stop it. Despite your words, his resolve was weakening by the second. The only thing stopping him from doing something was that Wrecker’s life was also involved here but he couldn’t stand that all he could do was watch you go through this torment over and over again.

Wrecker struggled against his captors as he watched, but they were too many securing him.

“Stop.” Hunter finally growled at Hemlock after this last round saw to it that you were barely able to right yourself. He saw your arms give out from beneath you with the effort it took to remove yourself from the ground. And from the way you were trying to flex them, he guessed you were losing feeling in your fingers.

Hemlock smirked, “I am merely giving her a preview of what’s to come. I need to know what it’ll take to crush someone like her.”

He kneeled beside your crumpled body and spoke into your ear. “I will look forward to breaking you.” He kept eye-contact Hunter.

Hunter was clenching his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt. The thought sickened him.

You believed him. That quiet, menacing tone in his voice told you he truly meant what he was saying and… and that brought out a level of fear you’d never felt before. But you wouldn’t let that happen yet. Your arms trembled as you braced your palms against the floor and you panted through the throbbing discomfort in your body, but you managed to get back to a kneeling position. In a way, you were also grateful for the harsh but secure hold the troopers resumed since it meant you weren’t required to keep yourself stable.

“Such resolve.” Hemlock whispered to you. “And now onto the other matter at hand.” He said breezily as he stood upright once more and addressed Hunter. “Here’s how this is going to go. You will lower your blaster and hand over Omega. And I will allow you to keep breathing.”

“Omega’s not going anywhere with you.”

The fierce protectiveness of the clone brought out a soft snicker from Hemlock. “Oh. Well, who knew clones are so paternal? Fascinating.”

To hear that observation come from that man had bile rising in your throat.

“I was saddened to learn of your friend’s demise. What was his name? Oh, yes. Tech.” Hemlock taunted cruelly.

“Don’t fucking say his name.” You spat as you strained against your captors. An act Wrecker joined you on.

Hemlock merely reached his hand out to one of the soldiers and took the object. “I’m afraid this was all I could salvage. Consider it a gift.” He tossed the broken goggles across the room to Hunter’s feet.

Your strength was returning and at Hemlock’s actions, you attempted to lunge for him, but the troopers acted quickly and, with a strong grip on your shoulders, they forced you back to your knees.

Hemlock was unphased and stepped forward a few paces. “To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.” He signalled back to his men who pressed their blasters against the back of yours and Wreckers heads. “And if you don’t lower the blaster now, you will lose more.”

Hunter looked past Hemlock and you and Wrecker.

Wrecker did the best he could do to shake his head.

“Hunter, n-” The sharp tap of a blaster interrupted you.

He wasn’t losing any anyone else. And with Omega gone, the rest of you could find a way out.

You helplessly watched as Hunter put the blaster down and delicately picked up and studied Tech’s goggles.

“Wise decision.” Hemlock praised before he waved his men forward.

Hunter let them pass and allowed himself to be cuffed and brought over to join the two of you.

You and Wrecker were pulled to your feet, and you attempted to wriggle out of their grip, but they wouldn’t give.

“Sir, the girl’s not in the office.” The troopers informed Hemlock as they came back out.

You and Wrecker glanced at Hunter who subtly nodded at the two of you.

You and Wrecker shared a small breath of relief. As long as she was safe, you could manage whatever came next.

“She’s long gone. Like I said, Omega’s not going anywhere with you.” Hunter said to Hemlock.

Hemlock merely hummed. “We’ll see.”

The three of you were escorted out but what you couldn’t work out was why you were still being physically restrained whilst the other two got to walk normally.

--

Ord Mantell was in chaos.

People were screaming and clamouring to get out of the way of the Imperial soldiers and AT-AT walkers that were making their presence known.

 A series of warning blaster fire halted you all from continuing. You turned in the direction of the fire and your stomach dropped as you saw who was on an upper platform staring down at the rest of you. No, she wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Lower your weapons.” Hemlock instructed his soldiers before he called over to the young girl, “Hello, Omega. We were just talking about you.”

Omega kept her bow activated. “Let them go!”

“Omega, run!” Hunter shouted before he got held back by one of the troopers.

“I won’t let them take you.”

“How about an exchange? If you come with me, your friends will live.” Hemlock negotiated.

“You fucking bastard.” You seethed as you pulled against the hands that were holding the upper part of your arms.

“I don’t believe you.” Omega replied suspiciously.

“I did not come here for them, Omega. I came to return you to Nala Se. She needs your help.”

“He’s lying. They killed the Kaminoans.” Hunter countered.

“Incorrect. Nala Se is alive and well care for.” Hemlock retorted before he returned his attention to the girl. “As you will be.”

“I’m not going with you.” Omega affirmed but she didn’t sense the clone trooper behind her.

“Omega, look out!” You shouted but it was too late.

All of you watched with devastation as Omega met the receiving end of a stun shot and her limp body got picked up by the trooper.

“Scour the city. When you find the third clone, send them back to Eriadu. Governor Tarkin wishes to question you personally.” Hemlock walked over to you. “But you…” He smiled coldly at you. “Your use lies elsewhere.”

Your heart shattered as you realised what that meant.

Hunter’s head turned sharply to look from Hemlock to you and the pained panic on your face mirrored his own. He reacted instantly and ran for you, but he didn’t make it far before the troopers separating the two of you got in the way and shoved him back. He continued to try and fight his way through, but the cuffs limited his effectiveness and a strong punch to his stomach winded him and he hunched over in discomfort. He took a few deep breaths and wriggled free of the two soldiers that had come to bring him back in and tried again but this time he was met with a kick to his already wounded torso.

You were shouting unintelligible sounds of protest as you writhed and struggled against the strong hands holding you back and attempting to drag you away. You managed to stamp on the foot on one of your captors and elbow one of the others in the stomach and their grip faltered.

But they regrouped quickly.

A swift hit of a blaster on your still wounded head had you blinking away black dots. You could do nothing to stop the severe grip one trooper took on the back of your neck, forcing you to hunch over whilst the others grabbed your arms and got ready to take you away.

“Let them.” Hemlock held a hand up to stop the actions of his soldiers. It would only help with his process. Let the two of you have the chance at a last moment together dictated by him and stopped by him. The emotional turmoil it would create would play beautifully.

Still half-dazed, when the troopers let you go, you were left with no choice but to fall to the ground.

Hunter shoved past the line of soldiers and knelt before you. As gently as he could manage, he placed his hands under your chin to push your head up. “I love you.” Hunter choked out.

Hemlock signalled his men.

You wanted to say so much more but you didn’t have the time. “I love you too.” You replied, your voice cracking. Your lips met for the briefest of moments but that was all you managed before you got hauled to your feet and they yanked you away from him.

As he watched your fading figure, Hunter didn’t have the strength to fight the troopers that lifted him to his feet and led him and Wrecker in the opposite direction.

--

The only thing that was keeping you from giving into the pounding agony that was bouncing around your skull was that Omega was now being carried alongside you. You would hang on for her.

“What are we doing?” One of the remaining troopers asked as he saw the group split off.

“Doctor Hemlock wants her getting a separate shuttle in case the others get away and come looking for them.” The clone in charge of the group answered.

“Please.” You begged with a broken breath as you saw the group separate and Hemlock disappeared down the street with Omega. “Just let me go with her. I won’t-” The butt of a blaster meeting your cheekbone shut you up and you groaned with the stinging pain it left you. Your vision kept blurring in and out of focus.

“Quiet! Keep walking!” The trooper ordered you.

You had so little resolve left. Hopelessness had overwhelmed you, so you followed their orders, your feet dragging as they led you in the direction of wherever the other shuttle was.  

--

Hunter could feel the fight leaving him as he and Wrecker were escorted to the shuttle that would take them to Eriadu. So much of what he cared about had been ripped from him and now the remaining people in his life that he loved would pay the price for his failure. The echoes of explosions and blaster fire grabbed his attention, and he looked up to see a walker come stomping round the corner but it’s aim was directed towards the Imperials.

“Echo?” Wrecker asked.

“Gotta be Echo.” Hunter agreed as he dug deep for the energy to fight back.

Wrecker broke his cuffs open on the top of his knee and Hunter landed a kick to the trooper behind him to give Wrecker time to undo his cuffs.

The two of them worked on taking care of the remaining troopers and stole their blasters and fired on the clones that were aiming for Echo’s walker. What they couldn’t stop however, was the next walker that rounded the corner that fired on Echo’s.

Echo went to the hatch and jumped out of the walker just as it collapsed to the ground.

“Where are the other two?” Echo asked as he emerged from the downed walker with AZ and took cover with his brothers.

“That Imperial took them.” Wrecker answered.

“It was Hemlock. We’ve got to stop his ship from leaving.” Hunter said.

The three of them scanned for ways out but reinforcements were arriving from both sides. It was then though that Hunter noticed a platform that ran above the landing pad where Hemlock’s shuttle must be and the group of them made their way up to it, avoiding enemy fire as they did so.

--

Hunter ran ahead to the edge of the platform and could only watch with despair and agony as Hemlock’s shuttle took off. He paid no attention to the surrounding sounds of blaster fire; he couldn’t turn his gaze away from the departing ship.

Half his life was on that ship.

Hell, his heart was on that ship.

And he couldn’t stop it.

He couldn’t stop any of it.

And it broke something in him.

It killed him.

Echo’s voice dragged him back.

“Hunter, we have to go!”

Hunter managed to find his voice. “Get to the Marauder!” He ordered and the three of them started to run once more.

--

They made it to their ship and managed to take off but there was no relief in the feeling. The air was thick with grief and loss.

“There was no way to track Hemlock’s ship. He could’ve taken them anywhere.” Echo said forlornly from the cockpit.

Hunter glanced back to where Omega’s room was, then he saw Wrecker cradling Tech’s goggles. Then he found himself fiddling with the cord around his neck and his fingertips grazed the small symbol attached to it. He’d failed so many people. Everything he’d promised both to himself and to his squad had fallen apart so quickly before his eyes and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Well, no more. He refused to let this be how things ended. “We are going to get them back.” He said darkly. “And we don’t stop searching until we do.”

--

The shuttle you were being taken to was on the other side of the city, but you had finally arrived.

The ramp lowered and you didn’t resist them as they nudged you towards it.

You walked a couple paces but then you spotted the smoke bomb thrown at your feet.

Fog engulfed you.

You were set free but all you registered were the panicked shouts and shots from blasters around you.

The Imperials didn’t last long, in rapid succession you heard the thud of each body that had brought you here.

Then everything went quiet.

A hand from behind grabbed your shoulder.

You reacted quickly and swerved out of the grip and whipped around to land a punch wherever you could reach. You heard the satisfying thump of your fists meeting bone and the figure backed away a few paces.

You readied yourself for the next attack, but it didn’t come.

“That’s a hell of a punch you’ve got. Would hate to see what you’re like when you don’t have cuffs on you.”

You recognised that voice and you pushed the faintness away and peered through the smoke at the figure approaching you, sniper rifle on her shoulder as she massaged her jaw. You relaxed your stance. “Lyra?”

“Hey, stranger.” She greeted you as she began picking the locks of your cuffs.

“What are you doing here?” You massaged your wrists as your binds came loose and you felt the Force start to flow through you again, but it felt… tainted. You searched in the Force around you for any sign of them, but there was nothing there. You really wished that meant they’d found a way out and escaped safely but everything felt disconnected. You weren’t yourself; something had shifted, and you weren’t sure if you would be able to right yourself anymore.

“Rescuing you, kinda thought that much was obvious. Where are the others?”

You felt your throat tighten as you searched for the words, but you couldn’t find them, and your stomach turned with both the aching in your head and your heart. You braced your hands on your knees and threw up.

The smoke had cleared, and Lyra was able to take you in properly. Your ankle was strapped, the skin on your cheek had broken and a purple bruise was starting to take shape and the stitches by your temple were starting to tear open as specks of blood escape the wound. It also wasn’t just your obvious injuries she saw- your body looked heavy with defeat. “What do you need?” She asked kindly.

“I need a ship.” You rasped as you wiped your mouth and stood up.

“You have one.” Lyra pointed to the shuttle right next to you.

“No. I wouldn’t get out of the system in that. They’d find me immediately.” You reached down and took a blaster from one of the unconscious bodies.

“So, you need something off the grid that would not pass any standardised mechanical check?”

“Add in an already scrambled signature and yeah pretty much.” You inhaled deeply as another wave of nausea hit you.

“I know someone who owes me a favour and makes a living from selling ships like that. Can’t promise we’ll get very far but it could work.” She paused as she saw the way you still swayed on your feet. “Are you sure you’re up for that? I can go myself and meet-”

“I’m not getting separated from anyone else.” You said sharply before you straightened your shoulders. “Lead the way.”

--

You waited as Lyra squared up deal and studied your way out of here. The ship did look like a hunk of scrap metal, but it would get you out unnoticed and that’s all that mattered.

“Okay, let’s go.” Lyra said as she came over to you.

You sighed, “Lyra, thank you. For all of this. But you can’t come with me.”

Lyra placed her hands on hips in defiance. “I have nothing here, they wrecked my stall and raided the other stores. I’m going with you. At the very least, you need someone to treat that serious concussion properly.”

Dealing with your injuries were way down on your priority list. You could feel it creeping in again and you weren’t sure you had the strength to oppose it anymore. “What I am… what I’m going to do, you shouldn’t be around for. I can’t-”

“Can’t be worse than what I’ve seen already. Come on, we gotta get going.” She said with finality as she walked past you and up the ramp to the ship.

On her head be it. You thought to yourself as you followed her up and she got the ship in the air.

--

Omega walked out the Imperial shuttle with a deep sense of unease. She recognised Mount Tantiss and the presence of Nala Se troubled her. She feared for what this doctor had planned for her.

“Have Emerie see to her injuries.” Hemlock ordered the assistant that came to greet them.

Omega didn’t follow the woman, she just looked to Nala Se. “Why did they bring me here?” She didn’t get to hear a reply for the trooper behind her prodded her back to make her go inside.

Hemlock addressed the Kaminoan after Omega was out of earshot. “Your prime minister mentioned you had an attachment to the young clone, so I’ve returned her to you. Perhaps now, you will reconsider working on the Emperor’s project.”

“What he seeks is not possible.” Nale Se argued.

“Make it possible. If you refuse or fail, Omega will suffer the consequences.” Hemlock threatened.

Satisfied that his threat had landed effectively, he waved the Kaminoan away and went to go inside but a clone voice stopped him.

“Sir, we’ve heard reports on an attack on the squad escorting the Jedi and the shuttle never checked in. It would seem she escaped.”

Hemlock had to hide his surprise. Clearly something had happened he had not anticipated. “That is… unfortunate, but we’ll make do… for now.”

--

Omega was led into a lab and what she saw horrified her. There were tubes and rows of unconscious clones strapped down onto testing tables. Then her eyes caught sight of someone she knew. “Crosshair!”

She ran over to him and tried to rouse him, “Crosshair? Crosshair?” He showed no signs of movement. She heard the sound of oncoming footsteps and turned to see the woman that must be ‘Emerie’ standing behind her.

“You must be Omega.” Emerie said.

“What did you do to Crosshair?” She asked angrily.

“He’s recovering. I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the doctor.”

“I want to talk to Nala Se.”

“Ironic. You trust the Kaminoan, but not me.”

“I don’t know you.”

“No?” Emerie kneeled in front of the young girl and removed her glasses. “You might know me better than you think.”

Omega furrowed her brow.

“We’re sisters, Omega.”

--

Lyra finished tending to your head and cheek before she went to the cockpit to give you some time.

As you stared down the corridor and out into the blue clouds of hyperspace, you gained a true moment of clarity. The galaxy and the Empire had taken much from you, but you’d always been able to push through.

In a strange way, you’d even thought you were better off because of where you’d ended up. You had gained a greater sense of purpose, you had room to properly care for the people in your life, you had a family.

But now they’d gone too far. Too much had been taken from you, your family, from the people you loved, and you weren’t going to let it happen anymore. You couldn’t let it happen anymore.

You weren’t as strong as you’d thought you were. Something gets cracked enough times enough times, it’s bound to break.

You were done hiding.

Your arms fell to your sides and your fists clenched and the darkness you had been running from since Eriadu came flooding back. Only this time, this time you weren’t going to fight against it.

This time.

This time, you embraced it.

Oneshot>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya, @starwarsnerd111

[notgonnaedit]

Healer's Care

Plan 99

Summary: Eight months after the destruction of Tipoca City, and the Bad Batch are starting to question where they truly belong

Pairing: Bad Batch x Teen!OFC (clones being good brothers/dads)

Chapter summary: Everything that could have possibly gone wrong did.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, heights, canon character death, blood, crying, gagging, hostages, kidnapping (If I miss a tag LMK)

Masterlist

Tags: @hugmekenobi @nottwonerdy777

@dreamsight73 @delicioustacocollector

@covert1ntrovert @clonethirstingisreal

"This is not ideal," Tech stated as they looked out the door at the abyss below.

"At least we're not hanging under the car," Wrecker suggested.

Omega grimaced. "This isn't much better."

Blaster shots halted their speak. Another railcar full of stuck stormtroopers were were firing at them.

Althea fired a few shots before ducking back inside. She repeated this with the others.

"Echo, get this car moving," Hunter ordered.

"The explosions must've knocked out power to the rail line," the ARC grunted.

"I can try to reboot the system," Tech stated, "but I will need to plug directly into one of the terminals on the track."

Hunter nodded. "You four, give us cover. Tech, up top with me."

Althea continued her fire with the others, covering for Hunter and Tech. It wasn't long before the tracker rejoined them from the upper level.

"I am plugged in. Stand by," Tech announced.

Wrecker took down another trooper before their troubles started.

"We've got three ships inbound," Hunter warned.

Althea squinted into the fog. "Where? I can't see them."

Then, through the clouds, they appeared. Three Y-Wings that were ready to destroy them flying right to them.

"Tech, we need power!" Hunter panicked.

The ships blasted and the railcar jolted.

"Echo, now!" Tech cried.

The ARC scomped in immediately. "We're online."

The railcar whirred to life, but the ships blasted the track. Hunter managed to take down two, but the other was still firing.

Althea gasped as the car jerked. "Tech's still out there." She moved towards the door as it jerked again.

"Althea!" Hunter yelled, but she ignored him.

The medic went until she found her brother hanging over the fog, a grapple wire attached to his belt. She could only watch him through the grate.

Wrecker came over and looked past her. "Come on, Tech! Hurry!"

"I am climbing as fast as I can," the pilot grunted.

The railcar rumbled and it was yanked down another few feet. Wrecker pushed Althea back from the edge. Tech's line was jerked down.

"Tech!" Omega called.

"Why aren't we moving??" Hunter growled.

"The car's being ripped from the track," Echo told him.

Another jerk, this time with Hunter shouting, "Wrecker, get him on board!"

The demo man took a tentative step forward, but the railcar jolted down.

"Don't!" Tech cried. "Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over."

The roar of more ships found Althea's ears. Another blast and the railcar fell more. Wrecked gripped the connector. He was the only thing keeping Tech from falling.

The pilot looked around, weighing his options, but there was only one.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" He ordered.

"Not until you're up here," Wrecker grunted.

Panic settled in Althea's bones as the railcar screeched angrily at them, demanding to succumb to gravity. Hunter was still firing at the ships and the other car, desperately trying to keep them safe.

Then, over the din of battle, Tech's voice crackled through the comms.

"There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99."

A startled choke escaped the medic. 

No. No, no, no, no!!

Wrecker grunted softly. "Don't you do it, Tech!"

Althea watched as her older brother pulled out his blaster. Even over the raging noise, she could hear his soft sigh. He raised his blaster and squinted his eyes for a moment before saying, "When have we ever followed orders?"

One shot. One shot rang out through the clatter. It was the shot severing Tech's cable, sending him into the abyss.

"No!!!!!!" Wrecker and Althea screamed.

"Tech!!!!" Omega cried.

Then, suddenly, the railcar moved at lighting speed. Althea was yanked back, tears in her eyes.

"Girls!" Hunter called.

"Go back! Go back!" The younger demanded. The older simply held her fists to her side and clenched her teeth.

"The car's going too fast," Hunter said as the mountain grew ever closer.

Echo reinserted his scomp several times. "The system's fried. I can't stop it!" 

The last thing Althea saw was Wrecker grabbing her before the railcar collided with the mountain.

                      •°•°•°•°•°•

Everything was a blur. Althea couldn't hear anything except ringing. Her head hurt badly. She felt something warm on her lip and touched it. Even with fuzzy vision, she knew what blood looked like.

"Omega! Althea!" The medic could faintly hear Hunter calling for them.

She felt a hand on her back and turned slowly to see Hunter beside her. "I've got you, kiddo."

She turned back to see Wrecker holding Omega. She was limp in his arms.

No, not her too.

Blaster fire shook the ground. "Incoming!" Echo yelled. "Get to the Marauder."

Before she knew it, Althea was running to the ship. Hunter is as with her, blaster in one hand and Omega's bow in the other.

"Come on! Come on!" Echo growled as he powered up the ship.

Althea turned and watched Wrecker set Omega down. Her medic instincts took over as her shell shock wore off. Althea crouched near the girl and examined her. She had no broken bones, but her breathing wasn't steady.

"Head to Ord Mantell," Althea ordered. "AZI can help her."

"Hurry!" Hunter added, panicked.

                   •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A breath escaped Althea as she secured the bandage around Hunter's middle. He had sustained several injuries, broken ribs being the worst of them. 

Wrecker sat in Cid's office with Omega. The demo man had broken his neck and sprained his shoulder, while Omega had a concussion.

Echo stayed in the ship, his only injuries consisting of damage to his mechanical legs. Usually he was helped by... No, it was still to fresh.

Althea herself had a deep cut on her lower lip that only just stopped bleeding. Around her head was a bandage wrap. Despite Wrecker's best efforts, the medic's head had collided with the side of the railcar and cut a decent gash below her hairline.

"That should hold," Althea muttered as Hunter nodded. 

The medic put the bandages back in her bag, but with her shaking hands they dropped to the floor.

"Althea..." Hunter started.

"No, I have to go check on Omega." The medic tried to move away from him.

Hunter stopped her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Althea forced herself to look at him. There were cuts and bruises everywhere on his tan complexion, but all the pain was held in his eyes. Everything that they had lost was there.

Althea broke right there.

She cried as Hunter held her close. She didn't want to let go. He was the only thing real, the only thing grounding her through what just happened. He was the only thing reminding her that Tech dying was real.

Yet he was also injured, and she was a medic. Althea let go slightly to pull away, but Hunter pulled her back tighter. He cradled her head close to him. His shoulders shook but no sound left him.

When their embrace finally ended, Althea could see him clearly. His eyes were red and tear stains ran down his face. She was sure she looked the same.

When Hunter finally spoke, his voice was rough. "I'm...I'm gonna go check on Wrecker and Omega, okay?" He held her face in his hands.

The medic nodded, just barely.

Hunter moved away, walking back to the office. He was only gone for a minute, maybe two, but Althea couldn't handle it. She didn't want to be alone. They were all injured and if she wasn't there–

Althea was at the door before she could register what was happening. She opened it, and found Hunter and Wrecker in serious conversation.

Hunter was sitting by Omega's side while Wrecker stood. Even him, the immovable giant seemed smaller after the day's events.

"Good evening, Volunteer Trooper Aaun." AZI flew up to her. "You will be pleased to know that everyone will make a swift recovery. However, after further analysis, it has come to my attention that your lip will most likely scar over."

"That's great, AZI." Althea walked past him, unable to handle his cheery demeanor.

Wrecker turned and walked towards her, patting her head before walking out. Althea sighed and took a seat next to Hunter.

"How's she doing?"

"AZI said she'll make it, but..." Hunter stopped short. "She might not wake up."

"No."

The tracker turned to look at her, a mix of hope and trepidation in his expression. Then it shifted to something akin to empathy. Hunter knew how much she had lost, but he never knew what it felt like. Not until today.

He had seen her mourn, but he never had to himself. Now that he had experienced it, knew how much it actually hurt, he just wanted to hold her tight and never let go. Maybe it was selfish, but he never wanted to her to leave his side. He couldn't lose her.

"Althea," he started, "Me and Wrecker have been talking about what to do and...." He sighed. "We think that Pabu is our best option."

"But I thought we were soldiers," the medic asked.

Hunter swallowed. "Yeah, well we were. I should have put that behind us a long time ago. Now, it's time for us to have a new life, but only if you want that too."

Althea's golden gaze flicked away for a moment, then she looked back at him and nodded.

"C'mere," Hunter said softly. He pulled her to his side and she melted into his touch. They sat there for a few moments, Hunter gently rubbing her shoulder. She was tall for her age, yet she seemed so small.

"What now?" She asked softly.

They had just discussed staying on Pabu permanently, starting their life there, yet there seemed to be nothing in their future.

Especially with the one who always knew gone.

"I.... don't know, kiddo," Hunter breathed. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he didn't even believe that himself.

                   •°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Hunter?"

The tracker's eyes snapped up to see Omega stirring. Her baby brown eyes were hazy looking at him.

Relief coursed through him. "Hiya, kid." He brushed his hand through her curls.

She groaned softly. "W-What happened?"

Before he could answer, AZI flew in and scanned her. "Hello, Omega. I am relieved you are awake. You each sustained multiple injuries. However, you all will make a full recovery with proper treatment and rest."

Then, Wrecker and Althea came into the room.

"You're... You're okay." Wrecker gave her a gentle hug and sighed. "Don't scare us like that again."

Althea took a canteen and handed it to the girl. "How do you feel?"

Hunter could see her instincts taking over again as he helped Omega sit up.

The blonde frowned. "I don't know." Her voice was dry and unsteady. "The last thing that I remember, we were in the railcar when..." She gasped and her eyes widened. "Where's Tech?"

Hunter looked away, he couldn't meet her gaze. "Omega... Tech didn't make it."

"We have to go back!" The girl cried. "What if he's hurt? He... He needs us. Tell him, Wrecker." She begged. "Thea, please. We can't just leave him!"

Hunter reached for her. "Omega..."

She swatted his hand away. "No! Tech's not gone! He... He can't be!" She broke down.

Hunter rested his hand on her shoulder, moving closer and wrapping his arm around her. She leaned into him, sobbing quietly. "I... I know, kid."

He looked up at his brother and Althea. They were fighting tears as they left the room.

"Why did Tech do that?" Omega sniffed. "He didn't let us save him."

This poor, sweet little girl.

Hunter pulled away so he could look her in the eye. "He knew we were out of time. Tech put the squad ahead of himself. He made a sacrifice, Omega, and we're not gonna waste it."

"What does that mean?" She asked tearfully.

Hunter looked at her. "The galaxy has changed, and so have we. It's time to put being soldiers behind us for good. Wrecker and I think Pabu could be a good place to make a new life for ourselves. And the rest of it, well, we can figure out along the way. Omega," he said when she didn't look at him, "is that something you want?" 

She pursed her lips before nodded softly.

Hunter ran his hand through her hair, resting it on the back of her head. "Then that's what we'll do."

Meanwhile, Wrecker and Althea sat at the bar solemnly. Cid –where she had been previously, Althea didn't know or care– poured Wrecker a drink. "Here. This one's on the house."

The demo man pushed it away. "It won't help."

The Trandoshan sighed. "I'm sorry about Goggles. I always liked him."

Althea stared at the bar. "Yeah. Us too."

                  •°•°•°•°•°•

Echo sat in the co-pilot's seat. He was no stranger to loss, but it didn't make it any easier. A sigh escaped him as his gaze drifted to the pilot's seat. 

The ARC had so many disputes with the one who sat there the most. At the time they were annoying and irritating, but he would give anything to have them back again.

Suddenly, Gonky honked. The droid droid had been silent for a long time, maybe mourning as well.

Echo turned in his seat. "What is it?"

Gonky honked again, and the ARC went to the door. He looked up to see a Star Destroyer in the atmosphere, and several shuttles flying from it.

He commed his team. "Hunter, the Empire's here."

Static.

"Hunter, do you copy?" He tried again. "Wrecker? Thea?"

He grunted in frustration and headed back to the controls. "They're jamming our comms."

Gonky honked as Echo grabbed his helmet.

"No, stay here," the ARC ordered. "I'll find them."

                 •°•°•°•°•°•°•

Althea looked up from the bar to see Cid tapping her claws nervously. Wrecker noticed it too.

"What's with you?" He asked.

"You know, I tried to look out for you boys," she started. "But you got too much heat on you. And you brought it here to my place of business." She looked away. "I had to make the best of a bad situation."

Rage boiled in Althea's body. "What did you do?!"

"Sorry, Bright Eyes."

The door burst open with several commandos and their blasters. They fired.

Hunter looked behind him to see several commandos coming through. He grabbed his blaster and shot the door, sealing it shut.

"What's happening?" Omega asked.

"It's the Empire." Hunter opened the back door and moved the crates out of it. "Take the mining tunnels to the spaceport and find Echo. I'll get Wrecker and Althea."

"But you're injured," the girl pointed out. "You can't fight them alone."

Hunter handed her the bow and kneeled to her level. "Omega, you and AZI need to go. That's an order!"

Omega frowned, a worry crease forming in her brow as she climbed down the ladder. The last thing she saw was Hunter closing the hatch.

She climbed down a few rungs before stopping.

"Omega?" AZI asked. "We must keep moving."

The light from his eyes shone on her face. "I can't do it, AZI," she sighed. "I already lost Tech. I'm not gonna lose them too. Come on."

                   •°•°•°•°•°•°•

Hunter blew the door, killing the commandos there. He ran out, blaster ready, into the main room.

He was greeted with even more commandos surrounding Wrecker and Althea. The two were cuffed and on their knees. The medic was gagged, most likely because she lipped off to the man leading them.

Doctor Royce Hemlock.

"That's not very strategic, Hunter." His voice was soft yet sharp, like a seductive predator luring his prey to their death. "You don't need to use your enhanced senses to know you're outnumbered."

He had their information.

Hemlock took a case and looked to someone on his left. "The Empire thanks you for your assistance."

Cid walked out and took the case shamefully. Hunter narrowed his eyes. The only reason he didn't shoot her right there was he wouldn't risk Althea and Wrecker.

"Our business is done. Leave," Hemlock ordered.

Hunter watched as the Trandoshan left, his blood boiling the entire time. Hemlock never left his line of sight.

"Please, consider your next move very carefully." Hemlock rubbed his gloved hand. "I would hate for this to end poorly for both of you. Here is how this is going to go. You will lower your blaster and hand over Omega. And I will allow you to keep breathing."

"Omega's not going anywhere with you." Hunter's voice was dangerously low.

Something shifted in Hemlock's expression. "Oh. Well, who knew clones are so paternal?"

Hunter blinked.

"Fascinating." Hemlock reached behind him. "I was saddened to learn of your friend's demise. What was his name? Oh, yes. Tech."

How dare he speak his name. Wrecked growled, but remained still. "I'm afraid this was all I could salvage," Hemlock said as he held a familiar item. Tech's goggles, cracked and broken. The red light that had so often recorded their adventures was dead. 

"Consider it a gift." The doctor tossed them carelessly at Hunter's feet.

The tracker wanted desperately to grab them, to hold what little he had left of his brother, but he remained still. "To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader," Hemlock stated. "And if you don't lower the blaster now, you will lose yet another."

A commando pressed the barrel of his blaster to Althea's skull. The girl made no noise. To anyone else, she looked strong and unwaivering. But Hunter knew her better. She was terrified.

Hunter was as well. Terrified of losing her and Wrecker. He could still sense Omega's presence, but he desperately hoped that was because he was holding her just a few minutes ago and her scent was still lingering on him.

He lowered his blaster to the ground, replacing it with Tech's goggles, taking them gingerly.

"Wise decision." Hemlock nodded to a couple commandos, who grabbed Hunter and cuffed him.

A third came from the office. "Sir, the girl's not in the office."

"She's long gone," Hunter said from where he stood by Althea. "Like I said, Omega's not going anywhere with you."

Hemlock hummed. "Hmm. We'll see."

The troopers had Wrecker and Althea stand, and with Hunter they were led outside.

They hadn't even walked a block before they were stopped by pink laser bolts. Hunter didn't know whether to be worried or proud that Omega chose to come after them.

The girl was atop a small balcony, her bow drawn and ready. The commandos readied their blasters.

"Lower your weapons," Hemlock ordered. He sighed before raising his voice. "Hello, Omega. We were just talking about you."

"Let them go!" The girl demanded.

"Omega, run!" Hunter shouted. He was grabbed by a commando, who he struggled against until he was let go.

"I won't let them take you!" Omega cried.

"How about an exchange?" Hemlock suggested.

Hunter shook his head at the girl.

"If you come with me," Hemlock continued, "your friends will live."

"I don't believe you," Omega snarled.

"I did not come here for them, Omega," Hemlock told her. "I came to return you to Nala Se. She needs your help."

"He's lying. They killed the Kaminoans," Hunter reminded her.

Hemlock shook his head. "Incorrect. Nala Se is alive and well cared for. As you will be."

Omega narrowed her eyes. "I'm not going with you."

That's when Hunter heard another person. "Omega, look out!"

But it was too late. A commando jumped her from behind and stunned her. Hunter surged forward, needing to help her, but a blaster digging into his cheek stopped him.

"Scour the city," Hemlock ordered his troops. "When you find the third clone, send them back to Eriadu. Governor Tarkin wishes to question you personally."

They walked to a gunship. Hunter had failed. He failed Omega, he failed Wrecker and Althea, he failed Tech. Crosshair was right. He was unfit to lead this squad.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," he choked out.

The girl beside him barely glanced at him. But then suddenly, an Imperial walker went haywire and started shooting troopers.

"Echo?" Hunter asked.

Wrecker nodded. "Gotta be Echo."

Wrecker grunted as he broke his cuffs and punched the troopers guarding them. He them broke Hunter and Althea's binders and ripped off her gag.

Each of them grabbed a weapon and began to fight. Hunter ran back to get Omega, but was met with two walkers.

One began to shoot the other, and then out came Echo and AZI. "Where's Omega?" He asked as they looked for cover.

"That Imperial took her," Wrecker spat.

"It was Hemlock," Hunter said. "We've gotta stop his shuttle from leaving."

Hunter glanced up and saw a catwalk. That was his chance. He nodded to the others before making a run for it and climbing up the wall.

They followed, blasting at the Imperials as they ran across the gunship and getting thrown as it exploded.

Hunter ran faster, he was almost to Hemlock's ship. He could make it. He could–

The shuttle flew up from the port. Hunter watched in absolute devastation as the ship took off. It had Omega on it. They had his little girl.

"Hunter, we need to go!" Echo yelled.

"Get to the Marauder!" He responded. He wasn't giving up, not when there was still a chance.

They clambered down into the port and ran for their ship, looking back only to shoot. Once they made it to the Marauder, they flew into the atmosphere.

"Where is it?! Hunter cried, looking desperately for Hemlock's ship.

Echo made their jump to hyperspace. The tracker stumbled back into one of the console chairs. Wrecker sat in the other, and Althea leaned against the controls.

In her hands were Tech's goggles. Hunter didn't realize he had dropped them, but he was thankful she grabbed them.

"There was no way to track Hemlock's ship," Echo said, breaking the silence. "He could have taken Omega anywhere."

Hunter looked back at the gunner's mount. Lula sat up there, waiting to be held by her owner. Omega should be up there, marveling at the colors of hyperspace.

"We are going to get her back," Hunter decided. "And we don't stop searching until we do."

Althea looked down at Tech's goggles, narrowing her eyes. Something changed in her gaze. It turned cold and hard.                         •°•°•°•°•°• "Crosshair!" Omega gasped and ran to the only person she recognized there. He was unconscious and strapped to a table. She shook him. "Crosshair? Crosshair!"

He didn't respond.

"You must be Omega."

The girl turned to find a woman with soft brown eyes and curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

"What did you do to Crosshair?" Omega asked.

"He's recovering. I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the doctor."

"I want to talk to Nala Se," Omega demanded.

The woman hummed. "Ironic. You trust the Kaminoan, but not me."

Omega furrowed her brow. "I don't know you."

"No?" The woman removed her rose colored glasses and knelt down. "You might know me better than you think."

Her hair was dark and curly. Her eyes were gentle and intelligent. Her face was round and her voice had a familiar accent.

"We're sisters, Omega. "

End of Book 3

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[hannyoontify]

beautiful stranger - boo seungkwan

member | non-idol!seungkwan x gn!reader

genre | strangers to lovers au, humor(?)

word count | 2.2k

synopsis | crossword puzzles, cups of coffee, smudged pencil sketches. the attractive stranger you happen to see on the way to work becomes a little more than an innocent crush on your morning commute.

warnings | none (pls lmk if there’s any that i should add)

notes | woooo!! my first published work!! i struggled wayyy too much making this post... i thought of this idea on a whim when i was doing homework this morning hehe this was actually inspired by laufey’s ‘beautiful stranger’ it’s a really good song and i highly recommend it (and the rest of her discography omg i love her music) you might even see me use some of her lyrics almost word for word here haha… anyway hope you guys enjoy!! :D

You first saw him on a hot, weary day in June. 

Your crappy ex-boss demanded requested that you return to his company not even 2 weeks after you had left. You had just quit his company and were looking for a new one, but no one seemed to be hiring. You reluctantly went back because the bills weren’t going to pay themselves and someone had to pay the overpriced monthly rent for your one-bedroom apartment in downtown New York City. 

You moved to New York City from your middle-of-nowhere hometown at the age of 23. You were fresh out of college, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as you swore to yourself that you would make your mark as a journalist and make it big in the City of Dreams. 

3 years and a pandemic later, you were merely a staff member for the local newspaper instead of being the youngest editor-in-chief in history for the New York Times as you had envisioned. 

That morning, your blaring alarm seemed even more annoying than it usually was. After taking a hot shower and eating a filling breakfast, you left your apartment in haste, eager to catch the earliest train to your work. 

The train station was almost empty, since it was still early in the morning, and the train was equally as empty save for a couple of strangers scattered across the seats when you stepped into the railcar. You sat in an open seat, across from a man looking down and reading a newspaper in his lap. 

The train lurched as it started to move again, and you saw the man sitting across from you shift in his seat because of the sudden movement and the moment he looked up, time seemed to momentarily stop.

He was beautiful. His mask was pulled down to his chin because of the lack of a crowd, showing his sweet, rounded face that seemed to be full of youth. His big, round eyes seemed to sparkle, and a small, dark mole under his left eye immediately caught your attention. 

The stranger was wearing a matching gray suit with shiny brown leather shoes. Smart-looking glasses were perched on his pretty nose, and his dark brown hair was swept across his forehead. Calling this man beautiful would be an understatement. He was a work of art, you thought.

You allowed yourself the luxury to look only for a second before diverting your gaze; you didn’t want to seem rude. He went back to reading his newspaper and you felt your face beginning to flush a shade of bright crimson red. 

You were never one to be curious about strangers. Your personality naturally made you a very shy and quiet person who never really concerned themselves with the people around them, especially strangers. But oddly enough, this beautiful stranger intrigued you. You wanted to speak with him, you wanted to know his name. His formal choice of clothing made you question his occupation and for what reason he could be out and about this early. Where he was from, where he was going? What were his thoughts and opinions on mint chocolate ice cream? 

The world was silent, with the rattling of the train wheels and the occasional crumple of the beautiful stranger’s newspaper being the only exception. You tried to make yourself seem busy by plugging in your earbuds and pretending to mindlessly scroll on your lock screen, but in reality, you were watching him through your eyelashes. His long, nimble fingers thumbed through the newspaper, clicking his tongue and shaking his head occasionally whenever he read about something unfortunate, or hummed when he read something interesting in the opinions column. At one point, you swore that he smiled, and you felt your heart melt into a puddle of goo and drop by your feet. 

You became curious about the newspaper he was reading. Could it be the newspaper that you worked for? That would be a good excuse for starting a conversation with him, you thought to yourself. 

After a lot of pondering and internal conflict, you gathered the courage to stand up to go over and speak to him. The moment you stood up, the intercom announced the upcoming stop, which, as luck would have it, was yours. You halted in your tracks, rethinking the choice you were about to make. You heard the doors opening as you came to your stop. 

You reluctantly left the train and looked back until it was no longer in view. What if you had gathered the courage to speak to him a little earlier? Would you have known his name? You could’ve exchanged a few words, and a fairytale moment could have occurred. But now, your beautiful stranger was going to have to remain a stranger until you saw him again. 

The next time you saw him was a couple of days later. He was sitting in the railcar in similarly styled clothing, with yet again, a newspaper in hand. In his other hand was a cup of coffee that was balancing on his knee as he stared intently at the paper. You stared at the beautiful man, watching him as he took a slow sip from the coffee that you couldn’t recognize the brand of. 

You sighed as you pulled out your sketchbook and drawing pencil and you began to sketch the stranger. Although writing was your passion, you also enjoyed drawing. If you had not majored in journalism, you often think that you would’ve been an art major. Your pencil began to move across the rough canvas, drawing the contrasting hard lines and soft dips and curves of the beautiful stranger in front of you. 

By the time the train pulled up to your stop, you were almost done. The only thing missing was his face. During the entire train ride, the man had not looked up a single time–at least not when you were looking. Feeling disappointed, you stood up from your seat and made your way to the doors. 

You looked at your beautiful stranger through the reflection of the glass one last time, but instead of seeing the top of his head like you usually did, you caught him staring at you. Although you were the one who caught him staring at you, you still felt like a child that was caught stealing from a candy store. You felt your cheeks flare up in embarrassment and you quickly looked away.

For the next couple of months, you found yourself constantly looking for the beautiful stranger who showed up on your morning commute at random intervals. He always had a cup of coffee from the same store and a newspaper in hand. 

You began to notice small things about him. You noticed that he always spent the most amount of time in the sports and opinions section. He always had a pen tucked in the front pocket of his blazer that he occasionally used to underline something in the newspaper, or sometimes, when he finished the newspaper earlier than usual, he would solve the crossword puzzle on the back. 

You also learned that the newspaper he was reading was indeed from the same small company that you were working for. After learning about his fondness for the opinions column, you begged your editor-in-chief to let you write more pieces for that specific category. She thought you were out of your mind but still granted it. Now, you were writing a piece for the opinions column nearly every day. It was more work than you were used to, but for some reason, it didn’t tire you out like it usually would have. 

It was definitely too early to call it love, but your innocent crush on your morning commute slowly grew into something more. Almost every day, you stared at the unfinished sketch of the stranger and wondered when you would be able to finish the drawing. Over the course of time, the edges of the paper had begun to fray and wear away. There were smudges from the graphite of your pencil and there were creases from all the times you folded and unfolded the paper. 

It was a little over 10 pm when you boarded the near-empty train after a particularly long shift. Your fingers, shoulders, and neck were sore from bending over your desk and writing all day. There were only a couple of people sitting quietly in their respective seats; heads tucked down, ears plugged in, and eyes closed. Entering the train, you quietly surveyed the railcar, looking for a seat when you spotted a familiar-looking face.

There he was again, your beautiful stranger. For the first time, he was wearing something other than his usual formal blazer and slacks. This particular evening, he was dressed in much more casual clothes; a matching dark blue sweater and sweatpants, and he had headphones pulled over his head. You ran your hand through your hair in a short attempt to make yourself presentable and chose to sit in the empty seat across from him. 

Your beautiful stranger looked much younger and at ease like this. His usually hardened hair was now a fluffy mess (you thought it was adorable) that tumbled across his forehead and temples. His eyebrows were pinched into a frown as he bit on the tip of the same pen that he always uses. His eyes were staring intensely at the crossword puzzle in the back of the newspaper from a couple of days ago. 

You knew it was a tough one. Your editor-in-chief had been giggling hysterically in her office when she made that day's puzzle, so you knew it was going to be bad. You had already solved it the day it was out, with the help of your co-worker who sat across from you, but it was perfectly understandable why he was still stuck.

You abruptly stood up and took a deep breath before walking towards the pretty man. He sensed your presence and looked up at you with bright eyes. 

“Hi.”

“Hello,” the man took off his headphones. His voice was soft and gentle, it reminded you of a warm cup of milk on a rainy day. Yeah, it was weirdly specific, but you liked it. “Can I help you?”

“Is that.. Is that the ‘Daily Seventeen Times’ issue from a couple of days ago?” You asked. Every second passing felt like a sign from the universe telling you to stop. Sirens began going off in your head. ‘Abort! Abort! Abort mission! Bad idea!’

“Yeah, it is! I’m stuck on their crossword puzzle and it’s absolutely destroying me.” Too late now.

“Oh, I actually work at ‘Daily Seventeen Times’, if you want my help.” The beautiful not-so-stranger beamed at your offer.

“Oh, would you? I would really appreciate that. My friend and I are competing to see who can complete 100 crossword puzzles from your magazine faster, and it’s a really close tie so I’m desperate.” He explained. He motioned for you to sit down in the empty seat next to him and you (gladly) obliged.

“I’m [Name], by the way,” you said, in hopes that you can learn his name as well.

The handsome man smiled and offered you his hand to shake. “I’m Seungkwan, nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand and smiled back. He had a nice smile, you thought to yourself. You locked eyes with him and you both just sat there for a minute, staring into each other’s eyes. With someone else, it would’ve been awkward, but with Seungkwan, it didn't feel that way at all.

“Now back to the crossword puzzle,” You were snapped out of your trance-like state by his warm voice and nodded.

“Yes. Cross-puzzle word. Right.” 

You felt the tips of your ears burn bright red at your stutter, but Seungkwan didn’t notice. Quickly recovering from your embarrassment, you looked over his shoulder to see what he was struggling with.

The two of you sat in silence while Seungkwan scribbled out words on the margins of the page, trying to figure out how to solve the puzzle without losing his sanity. You occasionally pointed out a few hints that he accepted gratefully. Before you knew it, 30 minutes had passed, and your stop and apartment was long past you, but you didn’t care.

“Hey, this might seem a little creepy, but where do you live? Because we just passed by my stop,” Seungkwan said. 

“Oh!” You laughed. “We passed by my stop a while ago, but don’t worry about it. I can grab a cab.”

Seungkwan buried his face into his hands and groaned. “Oh man, I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time. I can pay for your cab fee if you can give me your number-”

Your mouth fell open into a little ‘o’ shape.

“Oh my god, was that too straightforward? Sorry, uhm…” Seungkwan awkwardly sat next to you, trying to find the right words to say. “What I meant was… if you want, do you want to meet up this weekend for brunch or something and finish this crossword puzzle?”

You raised a surprised brow at him and he began to ramble again. “Again, if that’s also too straightforward, forget I said anything. We can both get off on the next stop and go on our own separate ways and-”

Your laugh cut off his incessant rambling. “Is this your way of asking me out, Seungkwan?”

“M-maybe..”

“Then, yes. I would love to go out for brunch and solve this damned crossword puzzle with you.”

reblogs + feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 20

A Whimper

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings and tags: the shit hits the fan; mentions of Plan 99 (spoilers for TBB season 2 finale); angst; suspense; canon-typical violence (bearing in mind that in canon Mando cuts a dude in half, soooo... adjust expectations accordingly); references to torture; choking; blood and injury; character death; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo deals with the fallout of Plan 99; Cerra has a polite conversation with the Empire.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

…Not with a bang but a whimper.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Echo sat motionless in the cockpit of the Marauder, staring blindly at the navigation controls. Tech was gone. They’d lost. And all of it had been for nothing. They had no way of locating Hemlock or his base—no way of finding Crosshair. Echo hadn’t just failed to bring one brother home; he’d lost another.

He mentally replayed those fateful moments in the railcar again and again. Could he have worked faster? Could he have done anything differently? Could he have changed the outcome? He didn’t know, and that uncertainty haunted him.

He turned to stare at the empty pilot’s seat. For an instant, Echo could almost see Tech there. He swallowed hard, pushing down the overwhelming grief that tightened in his throat, choking off his breath. His head hurt; his chest ached; his eyes burned with unshed tears.

Gonky shuffled into the cockpit and squawked so quietly that Echo didn’t hear him at first. The droid moved closer and honked a little louder, trying to get Echo’s attention.

Echo blinked and looked away from the vacant pilot’s seat. “What is it?”

Distantly, he heard a familiar rumble, and his heart began to race. He launched out of the co-pilot’s seat and sprinted out of the Marauder. He spotted the Venator hovering over Ord Mantell City and immediately commed Hunter. 

“Hunter, the Empire's here.” No answer came. “Hunter, do you copy? Wrecker?”

There was no reply; nothing but static on the comms.

Kark.

Cerra stumbled as the TK trooper shoved her into the corridor. She subtly tested the binders on her wrists, but they held fast. She fought down the tide of panic rising in her chest and tried to ignore the way her breath was beginning to spiral out of control. 

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. Oh, god, what if I never see Gregor again? Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Don’t think about it. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. 

She forced herself to focus on solving her immediate problems. First, she needed to get out of the binders. Impossible. Next, neutralize the trooper and take his blaster. He’ll blast me before I ever touch the deecee. Next, get to the hangar, steal a shuttle, and hit up the first Starcups she could find.

Piece of uj cake, she thought. Kriff, I’m going to die.

Her sense of impending doom only intensified when she reached the torture chamber—or rather, “enhanced interrogation room.” A stocky man in an officer’s uniform waited next to a table fitted with numerous restraints and an array of control panels and sinister-looking instruments. A tray of surgical tools and hypo-syringes sat next to it, neatly arranged. 

At least he’s organized. I’d hate to be tortured to death by someone who was sloppy.

“Agent Daivik, I presume?” she asked.

“Ah, Miss Kilian. So good of you to join me,” Daivik said smoothly. He turned to the TK trooper. “Take off her binders and get out.”

“Can’t wait to get me alone?” she quipped as the trooper unlocked the manacles.

“Hardly,” Daivik sniffed. “You are only useful because of the information you possess. Please lie down.”

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” she asked, rubbing her wrists to get the blood flowing to her hands again.

Daivik smirked, then his fist slammed into her shoulder and sent her careening backwards, the backs of her legs colliding with the interrogation table. He grabbed her by the throat and shoved her down onto the table. She kicked her feet desperately, but he pinned down her thighs with one of his legs as he forced her to lie flat on her back. She scratched and grappled with his hand that clamped around her throat in a vise-like grip.

“Ju—Ch—” she sputtered as her airway closed.

“Ready to talk so soon?” he snarled. “I’m just getting started.”

Nevertheless, he loosened his grip enough that she could speak.

“Choke me harder, Daddy,” she rasped.

He snatched his hand away with a revolted curse, and she saw her opening. She headbutted him with all the force she could muster, and his nose made a sickening crunch as her forehead smashed into his face. He staggered backward, and she seized a scalpel off the surgical tray and plunged it into his neck. Blood sprayed out of him instantaneously, spattering thickly over her hand, arm, and face, and she lost her grip on the scalpel as the hot, slippery fluid coated her fingers. 

Daivik’s pale blue eyes opened wide with shock, but he staggered toward her, his hands outstretched toward her neck. She clenched her hand into a fist and pounded the scalpel deeper into his throat, then curled her legs up and kicked him away with both feet. He lurched backward and fell, landing with a heavy thud. He went abruptly still as his head collided with the durasteel floor.

She leaned forward on the edge of the table, bracing her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. Her vision blurred, and with her clean hand, she wiped Daivik’s blood out of her eyes. The door hissed open, and the TK trooper rushed into the room. Cerra lunged for another scalpel, but before she could strike, she saw a flash of blue, and the trooper collapsed to the floor. A clone in gray and white armor stood behind him, blaster still raised. Cerra crouched in a defensive position, scalpel clutched in her fist. The clone smacked the control panel to close the door behind him, then lowered his blaster.

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do is comm,” he said as he removed his helmet to reveal a familiar scarred face and mismatched eyes: one brown, and one a cybernetic silver.

“Wolffe?” she gaped, her voice hoarse and ragged from Daivik’s bruising grip on her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Saw you on the security holofeeds and thought you might need help.” He spared a glance at Daivik’s corpse. “Looks like I was right.”

“I had it under control,” she lied, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“You were about to bring a scalpel to a blaster fight,” Wolffe said pointedly.

“Kriff you,” she replied without heat.

“Kriff me yourself, coward,” he grinned.

“Holocams?” she asked.

“Surveillance feeds are off for this room and the corridor outside. You all right?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked, pulling off her jacket and using it to wipe the blood off herself as much as possible.

“You don’t look so bad,” Wolffe said as he quickly began to strip off the TK trooper’s armor. 

She moved to help. “Been better, been worse.”

“What’s your plan for getting out of here?” he asked.

“Steal a shuttle,” she said.

“I like it. Simple, straightforward.”

“Want to come with me?” she asked.

He shook his head as they wrestled the TK trooper out of his compression suit. “I’ll stay here and cover for you from the command deck.”

“You sure?” she asked doubtfully. “They’re going to suspect I had help.”

“I’ll stay,” he repeated. “I have… other duties to fulfill.”

He turned his back to give her privacy as she changed into the black body glove, then handed her the armor one piece at a time as she suited up. 

“It’s a hell of a coincidence, you being on the exact ship they brought me to,” Cerra observed.

“Sure is,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Almost like someone knew I got captured and sent you in after me,” she said.

“That’d be quite the twist, wouldn’t it?” he agreed noncommittally. “Good thing neither of us knows anyone who would do that.”

“Good thing,” she agreed as she settled the helmet onto her head. “How do I look?”

“Not bad,” Wolffe replied. “You might want to take this, though.”

He drew one of his blasters and offered it to her. 

“I’ve got his deecee,” she said, gesturing toward the unconscious TK trooper. “I’m good.”

“Trust me, you want this one,” Wolffe said.

She glanced down at the blaster in his hand, and her breath caught as she recognized Jesse’s modifications.

“I could only find the one,” he said. “But I knew you’d want it back.”

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard before she managed to reply, “Thanks.”

He nodded, his eyes sympathetic. “Ready?”

“Any time. It was good seeing you, buddy.”

“You, too, kid,” Wolffe said, sliding his helmet firmly into place. “I’ll see you around.”

“That a promise?” she asked.

“Clone’s honor.”

They stepped into the corridor, and Wolffe closed and locked the door behind them. With any luck, nobody would discover Daivik’s body and the TK trooper until Cerra was safely off the Venator. With one final nod at each other, they parted, Wolffe heading to the bridge while Cerra made her way to the flight deck. 

She forced herself to walk at a normal pace to avoid drawing attention, though her instincts screamed at her to run. Her heart pounded, and she was grateful for the helmet that hid her face from the Imperials she passed in the passageways; she didn’t think she would be able to disguise her anxiety without it.

The hangar was nearly deserted when she arrived—no doubt thanks to Wolffe. Nobody noticed an extra TK trooper in the shuttle bay. Cerra selected a shuttle, then quickly located and disabled its transponder beacon. Once she powered up the shuttle, the Imperials would know something was wrong. She would have an incredibly narrow window to get out of range of the tractor beam. There would be no time to program the hyperdrive navicomputer; she’d have to use the last inputted coordinates and hope for the best. She took a deep breath and boarded the shuttle.

Settling into the pilot’s seat, Cerra began running as many of the pre-flight protocols as she could before engaging the sublight engine. This is it, then, she thought, beginning the power-up sequence and maneuvering the shuttle out of the bay.

The comms crackled almost immediately. “Nu-class shuttle, you are not cleared for takeoff. Return to the—”

She muted the transmission, then punched the thrusters to top speed, blasting out of the hangar and into space. The Venator opened fire, but as soon as she was clear of the ship, Cerra jumped to hyperspace. Safely away, she yanked off her helmet and leaned back in her seat, gasping for air.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she said aloud with a short, incredulous laugh.

Riyo stared at the flickering hologram of Echo’s face, feeling as though all the oxygen had been forcefully ripped from her lungs.

“How?” she whispered. “What happened?”

“The Trandoshan sold us out,” Echo replied, his face grim and twisted by grief and anger. “We barely made it out alive.”

“Why would the Empire take Omega? What do they want with her?”

“I don’t know. That Imperial—Hemlock—he said something about Nala Se. He said she’s still alive.”

Riyo frowned. “Could she have escaped the destruction of Tipoca City? Halle Burtoni told me there were a few Kaminoans scattered throughout the galaxy, but she didn’t mention Nala Se.”

“If Nala Se is working for the Empire, that can only spell trouble for us clones,” Echo said.

“I agree. We should discuss this with Rex. When will you be back to Coruscant?” Riyo asked.

Echo glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes.

Her heart began to pound. “Echo?”

He took a deep breath before he replied. “I’m not coming back to Coruscant.”

She blinked. “... What?”

“I’m staying with Hunter and Wrecker,” he said quietly. “Omega is still out there somewhere, in Imperial hands. We have to find her.”

“Cerra is still out there, too!” Riyo protested. “We need you here! We need you—”

“Riyo,” Echo said gently. “Rex and the others are doing everything they can to find her. I trust them, and I trust that she can take care of herself until they find her. Besides, if I know Cerra, she’s already making whoever took her wish they were never born. But Omega is only a child. We can’t abandon her.”

He was right, of course. She knew he was right. But knowing he was right didn’t make the crushing weight in her chest feel any lighter. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She bit back the selfish words that sprang to her lips, knowing that speaking them aloud would only make things worse. Nevertheless, they reverberated in her mind.

I need you. I love you. Come back to me.

Echo reached for her through the holocomm, and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she could feel the warmth of his touch.

“We will see each other again,” he said. “I swear it, Riyo. This isn’t the end for us.”

Without her comlink, Cerra had no choice but to use the shuttle’s communicator to contact Rex. Not only were the shuttle’s comms not secure, it was possible that the Empire was actively monitoring them. She keyed in the details for one of the team’s burner comm channels.

“Code kilo-three-two-seven. Scrapper to Monarch, come in,” she said. The minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness as she awaited a reply. When none came, she tried again. “Monarch, this is Scrapper. Please respond.”

The comm was silent. Fighting down her rising panic, Cerra ran a diagnostic to make sure it was functional. All systems were normal. She was just about to try a third time when the voice she loved most in the entire galaxy crackled through the speaker.

“Scrapper, this is Watchman. Good to hear your voice.”

Gregor. Oh, thank kriff. Tears of relief stung her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them away as she responded.

“Back at you, Watchman.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “Really good.”

“What’s your status?”

“I’m all right, but I could use a ride. Any chance you’re free for a pickup?” she asked.

“Affirmative. Head to delta-one-alpha-eight-two. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Copy that, Watchman. Fly casual.”

“You, too, Scrapper.”

Gregor ended the transmission, and Cerra let out a shaky breath. It was over. She was going home.

---

Next chapter

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Wash Away the Pain #4 - Wrecker

Following the devastating loss of Tech, Wrecker can’t help but feel like it’s his fault. If only he’d been stronger. Thankfully, you’re there to remind him that strength isn't just about physical power.

Pairing: Wrecker x gn!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: whump, guilt, angst, reassurance, grief and mourning, discussion around Tech's sacrifice *sobs*, hopeful ending.

A/N: I was heavily inspired by these gorgeous drawings by @thattoothpick.

This is part of a mini-series where each of our boys will get their angsty shower time.

Each can be read as a standalone or as a continuation. Check out the others in the series: Echo, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair.

Sign up to be tagged in my future fics.

Wrecker’s hands tremble as he turns on the shower. The water sputters into life, falling onto his head, rolling down his body, mixing with the tears he doesn’t bother trying to stop.

Cid had betrayed them.

The Empire had Omega.

Tech was gone.

He hadn’t been strong enough.

The thought spirals through his mind, threatening to crush him under its weight.

A hand on his back startles him, but he doesn’t need to turn to know who it belongs to. Over the years, your touch had become as familiar to him as how to diffuse or detonate a bomb. He leans forward, forehead resting against the cool shower tiles in your shared home on Pabu – all of you under one roof. After suffering such losses, you’d all retreated here – to grieve, search, and plan.

Water sluices down his broad back, chasing away the lingering grime, neck brace removed as the bacta shots work their magic. “It’s my fault he’s gone.” Wrecker murmurs, eyes closing.

You step closer to Wrecker, your hand continuing to offer a comforting presence on his back. You’d been with them throughout the war and now beyond it. What had started as you being their nat-born medic, thanks to their inability to get along with regs, had grown into friendship. 

You’d never seen Wrecker so upset before. Yes, he’d cried before – either at sad films or the one time he’d accidentally hurt you after you’d administered a shot – but usually, he was the happiest of your boys, the one cracking jokes and making everyone smile.

The running water fills the silence between you two, the rhythmic beating echoing the heavy thoughts that occupy both of your minds. Your clothes are soaked, but you don’t care, and Wrecker’s nudity doesn’t bother you either – after so long, you were desensitised to seeing the boys in varying states of undress. “No, Wreck, it’s not your fault.” You say softly, the warmth in your voice cutting through the cold atmosphere of despair. “We all knew the risks. Tech knew them, too. We can’t blame ourselves for what happened. He made the decision so we could all get away safely.”

You’re barely holding yourself together, heart hurting beyond measure at losing him and then having Omega snatched from right under your nose, but you can’t let those feelings out yet. Your boys need you.

Wrecker doesn’t respond immediately, but his body tenses. His guilt is palpable, a heavy burden that threatens to drown him even in the cleansing flow of the shower. You move your hand up to his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “He wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.” You continue. “Tech was smart. He knew the risks and believed in what we were fighting for. You can’t carry this weight alone.”

Wrecker’s shoulders slump, and he lets out a heavy sigh. The water droplets catch the dim light in the small bathroom, glistening on his skin. The loss of Tech is a wound that cuts deep into the heart of your found family, and the pain is shared among all of you. “Should’ve been stronger. Should’ve kept hold of that railcar for longer. Argued with ’im to climb back up.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “Wreck, you did everything you could. We were outnumbered, and the situation was impossible. Blaming yourself won’t bring Tech back, and it won’t help Omega. And I know he wouldn’t want us to dwell on this; he’d want us to focus on finding her and Crosshair.”

Wrecker turns around, facing you, his eyes filled with sorrow and anger. “But he’s gone ’cause of me. ’Cause I wasn’t strong enough.”

You gently cup his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “No, Wrecker. You were strong. You are strong. The Empire took advantage of our vulnerability, but that doesn’t make it your fault.”

“But I wasn’t strong enough.” Wrecker protests, a rare flick of anger in his eyes directed at himself – never at you.

You brush your thumb across Wrecker’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Losing Tech wasn’t because you weren’t strong enough. It’s because the Empire is ruthless. Strength isn’t just about physical power, Wreck. You have a strength that goes beyond that. You care deeply for your brothers, and you’ve shown incredible resilience in the face of adversity.”

Wrecker looks down, his fists clenching and unclenching, catching the sight of Tech’s broken goggles around your neck. You’d slipped them on after escaping Ord Mantell, vowing that they would stay there for the rest of time. “I miss ’im,” Wrecker whispers.

The words cut through you like a knife, and you can’t suppress the distressed noise that leaves you. You pull Wrecker into a tight embrace, letting the water from the shower cascade over both of you. The shared grief is a heavy burden, but you find solace in each other’s presence in that moment. “We all miss him, Wrecker.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “But we can’t let that grief consume us. We must honour Tech’s memory by continuing the fight, finding Omega and Crosshair and bringing them home.”

Wrecker nods, his strong arms wrapping around you in return.

Your hands gently rub his back. “We’ll find Omega and Cross and bring them back here. We owe it to Tech to keep going, to make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Wrecker holds onto you as if he could anchor himself in the storm of emotions. “It’s not your fault.” You reiterate. The words hang in the air, a mantra you repeat softly as if hoping they’ll seep into Wrecker’s heart and ease his burden.

As you stand there, embraced by the warmth of the water and each other, you can feel a subtle shift in Wrecker’s demeanour. His grip on you tightens, not out of desperation, but as a silent acknowledgement of the shared resolve to persevere.

“We’ll get ’em back,” Wrecker says, his voice determined. “And when we do, we’re gonna make the Empire pay for what they’ve done.”

You nod in agreement, your resolve firm. “We will, Wreck. The fight isn’t over, not as long as we’re still breathing.”

The water from the shower begins to lose its scalding heat, but neither of you moves. The physical warmth is nothing compared to the emotional support you provide for each other. After a while, Wrecker finally loosens his grip, and you step back, looking at each other with a shared understanding. The grief is still lingering like a shadow, but it’s tempered by the determination to press on.

“We should join Hunter and Echo.” You suggest, reaching for a nearby towel. “We need to regroup and plan our next move.”

Wrecker nods, and you both dry off and get dressed. You glance at Tech’s broken goggles around your neck in the fresher mirror. The weight of the memories associated with them is both a comfort and a painful reminder.

Together, you exit the fresher, ready to face the challenges ahead. Hunter and Echo are in the living room, reviewing data they’ve gathered from Rex’s network, their expressions a mix of sadness and determination.

You share a look with Wrecker. Your family might be battered and mourning, but they are far from defeated. You’ll find Omega and Crosshair, bring them home, and find sanctuary here on Pabu, away from the tyranny of the Empire.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Day 7: Clear Day Fair

Tags: @loturaweek2024 Clear Day, festival/carnival/fairgrounds, background Shiro/Keith, background Hunk/Shay, background Matt/N-7, food and carnival prizes, flirting

Read on AO3

“It’s hard to believe that just four decaphoebes ago, we were all at war,” Allura said, sliding her hand into the crook of Lotor’s elbow and resting her head daintily against his shoulder. No use getting too cozy: they’d resume walking soon. But for the moment she held onto her betrothed, (the talsean chain he’d gifted her burning a hole in her pocket, not quite yet ready to tell the others, and Altean engagements started out private, anyway) and enjoyed the sight of people walking about, smiling, laughing, eating, playing carnival games and riding contraptions.

“It is,” he breathed. Harder to believe for him, than her, some small piece of him, she knew, believing that he would never quite get this far, his father’s empire an endless and unkillable thing.

They stood together in companionable silence a long, long moment. The breeze rustled at the hem of her dress, a scandalous little thing that went down only to her knees, fluffy and ruffled, and left her collarbone and shoulders bare. He’d dressed nice for today, too, still anxious about setting aside his armor, but today was a day of celebration and joy. He was wearing an old Altean tunic Coran had found somewhere in the castleship’s storage, his arms as bare as hers were, and she enjoyed the sight and feel of his unarmored biceps quite nicely.

He turned to her, gently dislodging her from his shoulder, and smiled, just a little bit of fang poking out. “Shall we join in?”

She smiled back, warm and with a little happy twitch to her ears. “I think we shall.”

What to do, what to do though? They were surrounded by so many options, it was a little hard to choose.

Shiro and Keith were at the arcade, racing against one another on a level so high they had a small gaggle of children surrounding the mock pilot chairs, their one token stretching much further than the arcademaster might like. That was well and good for them, but Allura had spent quite enough time piloting the Blue Lion these last few decaphoebes, and Lotor agreed that such activities were more work than pleasure in his mind.

Hunk and Shay were on a slow moving ride, cozied up and cuddling in the lovebird-shaped railcar while they were serenaded by wacky mascots and bright colors. They traded back and forth gentle knocks of their foreheads, Shay guiding Hunk through the motion, and embarrassingly public kisses, Hunk showing Shay how. The cuddling definitely seemed pleasant, but the loud music and very public shows of affection weren’t exactly what the two royals would count as a nice (or romantic, in terms of the mascots) time.

Matt and N-7 were wandering the displays, children’s 4-H projects and adolescents’ experiments and community members’ quilts and crochet and knit works and artistry and sculptures and technological wonders and photography and baked goods and insect collections and mushroom displays and favored livestock all out on display, discussing what looked to be some sort of mechanical puzzle or contraption. That looked fun, also, but felt a bit underwhelming when they were at a fair. Maybe later, Lotor and Allura agreed they wanted to do something a little more fun first.

They began to wander, perusing their options, when Allura stopped him with a sharp tug on his hand. “Oh Lotor, look at that!” she said, pointing at a cute plush toy with giant marble eyes and soft fuzzy fur.

“Would you like it?” Lotor asked, cocking his head at the thing like he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“That’s a tier three prize right there,” said the carnie, leaned back on their chair, “gotta get thirty points; you a good shot?”

“I am,” Lotor said confidently, walking up to the stall and paying for the game. Allura fluttered a bit to have him so willingly indulging her, and also to see him lift the mock gun with those pretty pretty arms of his.

His first shot went wildly off-mark. “Hm. The balance is off,” he murmured to himself, and corrected. The second was just shy of the center of his target, earning him two points instead of five.

Every shot that followed hit the dead center of their marks, and the carnie whistled, impressed. Allura could feel herself grinning, and extended her hands with a giggle as the carnie handed the stuffed animal to Lotor, who then promptly turned and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, hugging the toy to her chest.

“Of course,” he said, looking quite pleased with himself, and a little flushed beside. She raised her eyebrows, then ducked her chin into the soft fuzz of her gift.

“And does my paramour enjoy providing me with gifts?” she asked, sweet and cheeky and looking up at him from under her eyelashes, shoulders drawn close to her ears.

At “provide” she actually witnessed his pupils dilate, and he licked his lips briefly before returning, “Only if my dearest enjoys receiving them.”

Giggling, she took his hand in hers again, now having discovered how they would spend their time. She pulled him to the next game with a prize she liked—not far indeed, as there was an abundance of plushies, shining trinkets, cheap plastic jewelry of absolutely no value, and kitschy souvenirs that caught her eye.

The ring toss went fine from the first throw, winning her a long-limbed plush that had magnets sewn in its hands so it could hang around her neck, he had to try twice at the game where he filled a thin tube with water but successfully perched a little plastic tiara on top of her head, making her giggle at having two, he tossed balls into baskets and flicked marbles precise distances, looking more and more smugly pleased with himself each time he handed her whatever it was that she had pointed at. They were burning through their tokens rather quickly, but eh, they could always purchase more, and Allura was certainly not going to stop him from piling her high with stuffed toys and assorted knick-knacks.

He struggled the most at stalls run by Unalu, surprising Allura not at all, but although she insisted that she didn’t need the prize that had drawn her eye, he insisted on victory before they left. It was sweet, and deeply charming, and as Allura’s arms grew more and more full of the prizes he’d won her she found herself gigglier and gigglier.

“Voltron plushies, toss a ring, win a plush,” another Unalu hawked at passerby, and this time Lotor was the one to stop them.

“A… purple lion?” he asked, one eyebrow as arched as she’d ever seen it. “That does not exist.”

Allura bent to observe the lineup closer, the five colors she was used to, yes, but also a pink, white, and purple lion propped up at the end of the line, many more clustered on the wall of the back of the stand.

She looked up at him, just a motion of her eyes, face still close to the purple offender.

“I do want it though,” she said through the fluff of three different plush toys.

Lotor hesitated, then blushed, then looked away. “Well. If the lady wants.”

“Then the lady shall receive! Very good, sir, ten tokens to play!” the Unalu prompted, and tried to hand Lotor a set of rings much smaller than the ones scattered about the display.

“These are not correct,” Lotor said, derisive and with the low tone that made her shiver.

“Of course they are! They just look small in your strong, masculine—hands…”

Lotor loomed over the swindler, scowling impressively.

“You know, I think I did actually hand you the wrong set, here you are sir, enjoy!”

The carnie swapped the rings out for the actual size, and Lotor relaxed. Observed his targets. And made every single toss.

“Woo!” Allura cheered, jumping a little, her hands full.

“Ah. Well. Erm, according to the sign, which is in your line of sight so I wouldn’t ever tell you anything differently, nine successful throws is three small prizes or one large one. So if your lady here wants the purple one, you get two mor—”

“The pink one! The pink and blue ones!” Allura interjected excitedly, and the carnie handed them over.

“This one’s for you,” she said, setting the blue lion on his shoulder like a cat would perch. The pink and purple one she settled beneath her arm, almost immediately losing them in the mass of the other plush gifts.

“Ah—your—”

“My lion, the one that is real, and actually exists. Not these silly fakes,” she teased, smiling up at him.

“Ah,” he said, and oh, she did far too thoroughly enjoy her ability to render this man speechless. It was intoxicating, seeing her beautiful, eloquent Lotor reduced to a pleased smile half hidden by his hand, ears tinged with his blush.

The smell of funnel cake, made of ground tubers instead of grains, as she might have had on Altea, yet still unmistakable, wafted through the air.

“Oh! We must have one!” Allura insisted, dragging him away from the games and into the hall of food vendors, ciders and grilled skewers and breaded pockets of meat and air-puffed ground tubers that also should’ve been grains if this were Altea and sweets and cloudsugar lining them on either side, and Allura joined the first of the lines.

“It’s sweet!” Lotor remarked when they got theirs, a dusting of sugar falling on his chest as he bit into the fried delight.

“Of course!” Allura agreed joyfully.

“It’s good.”

“Do you not often enjoy sweets?”

Lotor snorted, taking another bite. “You might recall that standard Galran fare involves uniquely bland off-beige paste and little else.”

“Well, yes, and we Alteans have our exceedingly green goo, but surely you must eat regular food when you are planetside?”

Lotor gave her a look.

“Lotor. Only eat half of that. We are going to try everything in this aisle.”

He laughed at her sudden seriousness, but Allura was not anywhere even close to joking. He dutifully waited with her in every single line, trying out savory meats and spicy candies and more sweets and buttery tubers at her prompting, eating whatever they’d just purchased while they waited in the next line. They bumped into Pidge, Hunk, and Shay in one of the lines, chatting happily while Lotor gnawed on a well-sauced bone of meat, and Hunk reminded them to hydrate while they were here. When they finished with their final shop (a meat skewer place with crisped alliums and bell peppers that smelled divine) she decided to play another little ploy on her intended, and guided him away from the crowd.

“This is good, as well,” he praised, seeming to enjoy the meat dishes the most out of everything they’d tried.

“Good! Give me a bite,” she said, resettling all her many plush gifts in both hugging arms, so she could not reach out and take it. Instead, when he began to extend the skewer to her, she opened her mouth and leaned forward.

“Allura?” he choked, eyes blown so wide they were nearly all pupil.

For her part, she blinked her eyes as big as they would go and stared up at him innocently. “My hands are full,” she commented, high pitched and sweet, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Won’t you feed me a bite?”

Feeding one’s partner was not quite so scandalous as kissing them in public, but it wasn’t nothing, either. She opened her mouth again, doing her best impression of guileless but probably blushing, herself, and watched her fiance visibly struggle with his composure before feeding her a bite.

“Mm! It is good!” she agreed, smiling for an entirely different reason.

“You are a wicked, devilish woman.”

Allura giggled, grinning wide, and spun on the ball of her foot with a little flounce of her dress.

“That’s me! Now, whatever shall we do next?”

[stahl-tier]

@eject91 tumblr replies are a pain in the ass for people like me who like to infodump and be unnecessarily verbose so lemme answer like this:

Basically the buffers are generally a length that means if they touch without extra pressure, the coupler should be screwed tight enough to be horizontal (+ varying number of extra spins depending on the type of train). that way it canno move too much and will keep the coupling mostly rigid but not too tense. it still needs to be able to move a little to the left and right and still needs to be able to withstand pulling and pushing without snapping.

so when you use a screwlink coupler it should look kinda like this:

since the buffers touch and are spring-loaded/dampened, the shackle doesn't jump out as its both pulled downwards by its own weight and not loose enough to really jump in the first place (and there's a little protrusion in the back of the hook too that will keep it further "trapped").

it's really almost impossible to uncouple the cars when they're coupled like that.

but shunting is a wholly different story. you're not dealing with trains and you're dealing with different forces. you'll be driving slowly for the most part and deal with MUCH less weight in general. the average freight train here has around 1200 to 1800 tons and anywhere between 15 and 30 cars, with one to three locomotives pulling it. the initial pull when it starts moving and the braking whenever it needs to stop moving or slow down puts the main strain on the buffers and couplers. when you're shunting, you will have at most 15 cars usually, but often only between 1 and 4, with one locomotive. since they move them around and assemble the trains piece by piece. you'd have to unscrew the coupler everytime you need to add another car or rearrange the cars, and this will only work if you're on a straight track as on a bent track, the coupler could be too short even when fully unscrewed to allow you to lift it out of the hook.

so we leave them slack for that (usually) and don't even connect the air hoses either (as we don't use the cars' brakes during shunting usually). that way you can even just stick a long pole in between the cars and disconnect them with it if you need to (which is something they have to do when assembling trains by rolling the cars down hills as they have to uncouple them while the whole thing is moving, and they can't just climb inside to do it by hand).

this is the main coupler type used in europe like i said, but there's also some vehicle types with knuckle couplers - mainly newer railcars. with those there's no need for buffers as the coupler handles both the pushing and pulling force, and that's useful but comes with some disadvantages too. mainly you're running into compatibility problems as the different types of knuckle coupler won't work together.

knuckle couplers also don't work with screwlink couplers. so to answer your question about how those would be connected, you basically take an auxiliary coupler and connect them that way. those are massive and heavy devices and everyone hates having to use them. you need two people to lift them into position.

i looked up some photos of the locomotive type you mentioned, and while it's totally possible that it's using a normal knuckle coupler like you'd see with american rail vehicles, i think it may simply be a different type of the shunting coupler that you still see often today on shunting locomotives.

this is a RK900, the most widely used shunting coupler currently. it's raised as that's how they "tuck it away" while it's not in use. you can see a hook poke out underneath, and that's how they can be connected to regular screwlink couplers (we use class 2068 shunting engines that have this exact same setup at my yard, and when we do shunting for the workshop we just treat them like a normal car that's missing its shackle).

not all of the shunting engines that have the RK900 have a hook underneath, tho.

when the RK900 is in use, it's lowered:

it then works similar to a knuckle coupler - when it's smashed into the hook of a screwlink coupler, the "pincers" grab the hook and it locks itself so that it can only be released again manually or via an air-controlled release mechanism. the purpose is to speed up the coupling and decoupling process, but it's only useful if you're dealing with already connected cars, not when you're doing shunting where you have to connect and disconnect the couplers between the cars a lot.

so, i'm not 100% certain that the locomotives you saw used a (possibly more ancient) variant of this type of coupler as i'd have to actually look them up more thoroughly than just googling images of them but i'd assume that's what's going on with them!

hope that answers your questions and if you still have more feel free to give me more excuse to infodump

[chopper-base]

Plan 99

Day 7 of @tbb-appreciation-week

I will be posting the days I missed. I just need to get my shit together.

MAJOR SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS

Summary: Tech finds himself alive but in the empires hands. Extremely injured and alone, he can only hope his brothers managed to escape as he fights to escape with the help of a brother long lost.

Prompts: Fix-it, nightmare

Warnings: A lot of blood, body disfiguration, nightmare, graphic character death in nightmare, non-consensual body modification, trauma, major injury

(Pls let me know if there are other tags I need to add!!!)

Chpt1 | Chpt2

Chapter 1

"Plan 99."

Tech had calculated every possible outcome to his current situation, and in every one, his team, his brothers plummeted to their death. He knew there wasn't a scenario that he made it back up to the rail car. He knew one way or another, he was going to fall. He made his decision without a second thought; he wasn't going to let his family fall with him. The fear in Wrecker and Omega's voices was prominent, weighing heavily on him.

"Don'tchu do it, Tech,"

Tech knew under Wrecker's helmet, he was watching him, his eyes pleading. He knew the realization was setting in on his brother as Tech raised his blaster, "When have we ever followed orders?"

Everything seemed to slow as he pulled the trigger, the blast hitting its mark, severing the connection between the railcars. The line kept him tethered to the plummeting car, Tech now free falling, his eyes glued to his brother's armored form growing smaller and smaller as he disappeared into the fog below. Wrecker's devastated scream burned into his mind as the wind whistled past him, the reality of his situation finally fully hitting him. He reached up, turning off his com, not wanting to hear Omega's desperate cries.

Tech always knew death followed the batch everywhere they went. Always sitting in wait, ready to take them and yet, they always found a way back. They always found each other again and they never let the fear of death stop them from completing what they started. But as the ground below grew ever closer, Tech found himself fighting the fate he had accepted merely seconds ago.

The rail car above him was just waiting for the solid ground, waiting to crush the pilot under tons of metal and machinery. Tech reached down, disconnecting his line, trying to position himself away from the car. It was then that Tech finally looked towards the ground, the fog clearing enough for him to see the dense forest below him. Through the mess of branches, he noticed a river, flowing heavily between the thick canopy. He managed to change his trajectory enough to put the river below him but between him and the water was still a whole lot of tree.

He didn't have time to think of how to slow himself down before he hit the first branch, snapping harshly against his thigh. There wasn't time to regret not having armor on his thighs before he was hit by another branch crashing into his side. He never felt the third as his consciousness was ripped from him, leaving his limp body to crash through branch after branch.

Tech awoke seconds later to a burning in his throat, a freezing blanket seemingly wrapped tightly around him. He realized in fear that the burning was water, forcing its way down his throat, filling his aching lungs. The rushing river around him made it almost impossible to tell which was up. He began to kick, swim as hard as he could, hoping to reach the surface. Excruciating pain shot down his right leg the moment he tried to move it. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from inhaling more water, he continued to kick through the pain. His hand broke the surface first, his head quickly following. He coughed, trying to force the water from his lungs and trying his best to keep more out as the rapids pushed his head below the waves once more. He fought to get his head above the water once more, spotting the edge of the river over the white water rapids that continued to beat down on his already aching body.

His foot brushed against what he assumed was the river bed, trying to use it to push himself towards the shore. The river's rapids began to calm, making it easier for the pilot to swim closer to the edge. He finally began to feel the solid dirt of the river bed as he half crawled half dragged his way out of the river, collapsing in a heap of drenched armor.

He pried his broken helmet off his head, unable to stop the agonizing scream at the burning in his eyes and the sharp pain shooting down his arms. His limited vision was swimming, white spots dancing across what he could see. He started to notice the lack of vision on his right side and it wasn't long before he realized he couldn't see anything out of that eye. He slowly reached up, his finger brushing over his goggles. He let out a pained hiss as his finger met the broken lense, finally realizing his problem. The lenses had shattered and had pierced into his eye.

He pulled the goggle strap over his head, carefully pulling the broken goggles away from his face. He let his arm fall, dropping the goggles falling beside him, trying to breathe through the burn in his chest.

"Well isn't this interesting," a voice called, bringing Tech to turn his head lightly to where it had come from. "Here I thought we were coming to collect a body. This is quite the surprise.”

The next few hours became an unintelligible blur as what Tech assumed to be TK troopers moved him from the river bank onto a transport. His chest burned with every shaky breath he stole of the ship's recycled air. He wasn't sure when it happened but eventually, a mask was placed over his face, breathing becoming ever so slightly easier. Every shaky breath left a painful rattle in his chest, his own wheezing echoing in his mind. There wasn't a single word spoken around him that made sense in his head. The voices sounded as if they were underwater, the slight rocking of the ship causing more nausea to set in. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, every movement causing blinding white pain to stab through his eyes. He opted to focus on his breathing, trying to steady the painful intake of oxygen to his burning lungs. He had long forgotten about the pain in his limbs, all his focus on trying to stay awake; to stay alive.

The noise around faded to almost nothing. The hum of the engine vibrating through the ship was the only thing that kept Tech from slipping into the darkness that called to him. Tech didn't know how long he lay there, unable to feel anything but the stinging in his lungs and the cool air that he forced in. Tech couldn't even flinch when a hand landed on his shoulder ever so briefly, his body refusing to respond to any command. The engine must have been shut off at that soothing vibration Tech had been holding onto so tightly vanished. The stretcher he was on began to move, and Tech wished so badly to know where. The air around him became colder, leaving the pilot to hold on to that chilly sensation as he fought to keep that sliver of consciousness. He wasn't sure if he was truly conscious. He couldn't hear a single thing, his eyes refused to open, his burning lungs were the only thing he knew to be true. That question was quickly answered as several hands appeared over his body, moving him. The stretcher beneath him disappeared only to be replaced with a hard surface. Something touched his neck, something he couldn't place. He felt as his last remaining sliver of consciousness began to be torn away from him. As much as he tried to fight it, the darkness enveloped him, swallowing him whole.

"Don'tchu do it, Tech."

Wrecker? Tech looking around him, greeted only by darkness.

"TECH!"

Omega? Her screamed echoed in his head. He turned again, searching for his sister but all he was met with was her terrified screams. He called out to her, his own voice all too loud. He turned one last time to be met with a sight that left him biting back the bike in his throat. Omega's small body lay before him, blood pooling beneath her, staining her blonde hair a dreadful shade of red. He ran towards her, only to realize he wasn't moving. No matter how fast he forced his legs to go, she never got closer. Her eyes were locked on his, terror written on her young features. He couldn't do a thing as he watched that bright light leave her eyes. He watched her body fade away as her name escape his lips in the form of a broken scream.

"Tech."

Another voice echoed around him. He whipped around only to be met with a pair of broken eyes. Crosshair stared at him, unmoving. Blood was streaked across his black imperial armor. A shattered helmet lay discarded at his face.

"I thought we never left our own behind?" Crosshair's voice cracked, broken as he stared at his younger brother. "...why? Why did I get left behind?"

Tech's voice caught in his throat, any hope of an explanation was left to the wind.

Crosshair stared at him, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, leaving it to dribble off his chin. "You abandoned me."

Tech couldn't even bring himself to cry, watching as his brother broke before him. Those once sharp eyes now held nothing but pain. He too began to fade, leaving Tech to reach out for him, his mouth open in a silent scream that never came.

The ground beneath him seemed to fade, leaving Tech to plummet down. A painted sky of red formed above him as he fell. Clouds of a sickly gray dotted the bloody sky, staring down at him as he fell. His back hit something solid, leaving him trying to scramble back to his feet. He froze as he noticed the scene that surrounded him. His squad, his brothers lay scattered around him. Their bodies bloodied, disfigured in all the worst ways. Their glazed eyes were all pointed at him, driving daggers into his soul.

He fell back to his knees, blood soaking through his blacks, staining his white armor red. His eyes fell on the small body between his brothers. Omega's limbs were bent in directions they should have never been able to, blood flowing freely out of her mouth. Her eyes. Those young innocent eyes stared right back at him. Her mouth was open in a terrified scream that never came. The scene around him began to vanish, leaving Tech to stare at where his Vod'ika once lay. He opened his mouth, a broken screaming echoing around him. He screamed until he couldn't, leaving him to curl in on himself, sobs wracking his body.

Why couldn't he have saved them? Why wasn't he able to save his family?!

Tech's eyes flew open only to be squeezed shut immediately at the pain that flared through his entire body. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that he felt too much all too quickly. His entire body seemed to spasm as pain ripple through his chest leaving him wanting to scream only to choke. Something had been shoved down his throat, forcing him to breathe. Tech was able to force his eyes open again just enough to see light. He was floating. Something was suspending him from above and it was then Tech recognized the cool liquid that was surrounding him. He forced his eyes open a little farther, recognizing the transparisteel of a bacta tank surrounding him. He stared at the blurry room before him, unable to place how he ended up here. His vision was limited, leaving Tech to focus on the confusion of his whereabouts. His vision on his right side seemed… wrong. Colors seemed to register differently on his right side which led to more confusion. He attempted to move his hand towards his face only to be met with pain rippling up his body in excruciating waves. His entire body felt as if liquid fire had been pumped through his veins. He choked around the tube in his throat, wanting nothing more in that moment than to be able to scream. His chin fell against his chest, his eyes screwed shut. He fell limp, letting that karking tube push and pull air from his burning lungs. He pried his eyes back only to wish he didn't. He had been stripped of his blacks, leaving him feeling exposed. But what had him forcing back the bile in his throat was his leg. His right leg was gone, leaving a metal prosthetic in its place. The skin around the prosthetic was red and swollen, the tortured nerve endings leaving him to stare in what could only be described as horror. He forced his gaze away, trying to assess the rest of his body. His entire body was littered with scars, some he recognized from previous missions, and some that clearly were still healing. The pain slowly subsided as did what consciousness he had. He only caught a glimpse of a person entering the room before he found himself fully enveloped in the darkness.

[lightwise]

Plan 99

Short one-shot fic from Tech's perspective. I wanted to show the thoughts that must have been running through his mind as he fell. The love he has for his family. The peace he has in his decision.

After the season finale, I've had a number of thoughts and posts swimming in my head. What I didn't expect was the need to make a short one-shot from Tech's perspective.

Words: 1,238.

Warnings: mentions of falling, death, life flashing before one's eyes. Nothing violent or graphic. Just emotional. Please don't feel the need to read unless you are in the right headspace. I know this week has been very tough and I don't want to add to the pain, but making this was cathartic and I hope reading it is as well.

Note: I wrote the majority of this fic, including the last lines, before coming across @luxris incredible piece that they very kindly allowed me to include here. When I saw it I knew it had to be paired with what I had written. Go check out the rest of their work and give them a follow!

————————————————————

Plan 99

“Don’t you do it Tech!!”

“Hhuhhhh.” Tech looked down and shook his head, both in resignation and affection. Of course Wrecker would say that. Of course he would act out of emotion, not out of logic and a clear understanding of what needed to be done. 

Tech had already scanned the probability of every possible way to keep the railcar on the tracks and pull himself up before the bomber came close enough for another round. Plan 99–the last plan in their roster, the plan none of them had ever needed to use–was the only solution both his HUD graphics and his heart were telling him. Although even that only had a 78.6% chance of success if he did not move quickly enough. He suddenly had an intrusive thought shadowing the back of his mind–if he did not bring his blaster up to his side immediately, that clear-headed logic through which he interpreted the world might start to betray him. 

Wrecker was straining with all his might to hold the connection between the cable cars, dangerously close to falling himself. Omega stood a few paces behind him. Tech could not see her face clearly but he knew the exact expression of worry and fear it most likely held.

Tilting his head to the side, a myriad of sentences ran through his mind, but none of them seemed adequate. He didn’t have time for this convoluted process. The thought of Crosshair flashed before his eyes. His brother’s sniper rifle would have taken care of this situation at least 12 minutes ago. If he were here. If he weren’t the reason Tech was dangling over an open crevasse in the first place. It wasn’t his fault though. It was imperative that the others had the chance to find him, to bring him home. 

Tech would have done it all over again. And suddenly he knew what to say. 

His left hand firmly grasped his blaster as he pulled it roughly out of the holster, his right still clinging to the cable attached to his waist. He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes as he began to take aim. The shot would have to be precise.

“When have we ever followed orders?” 

His blaster fired, shooting up through the grates of the metal above him, puncturing cleanly through the connection rod–right where he wanted it. His heart broke in half along with it. It was an odd sensation. 

The weight of the released cable car pushed a rush of air down at him as he began to fall. He had never been able to hold eye contact for very long when speaking to others. But now? His eyes stayed steady and wide, gazing up at his squad. No, he corrected himself instantly. His family. Omega had taught him better than that. He knew that she and Wrecker were screaming his name after him, but the pressure of the air tunneling up around him began to bring the blood to his head and left only the beat of each blood vessel in his ears. He began counting the pulses. The blaster had already flown out of his hand and his arms and legs began to float as though they were no longer a part of him. But he kept his gaze fixed on the one thing he wanted to engrave in his mind, the last thought that he wanted to dwell on. He did not have Crosshair’s enhanced eyesight, but he could have sworn that his brothers and sister never got any smaller as he continued to separate from them.

It was a long way down and he realized he had slightly underestimated the amount of time it would take for him to reach the ground. Or perhaps he had not accounted for the weightless swimming sensation that his mind had begun to feel. He had both researched and witnessed the ways in which people met their demise many times, and even the ways in which the mind began to play tricks on you, making time stretch out on its continuum. He was not afraid of the process of death. At least, the physical process of it. Yet he had not fully anticipated the ways in which he was suddenly seeing flashes of his life with both startling clarity and disconcerting speed. 

Hunter ruffling his hair, returning his goggles to him in a stark white corridor after several cadets had roughed him up for his “defects.” 

A Firepuncher poking over his shoulder as Crosshair relied on him for steady aim. 

Echo glancing over at him from the copilot’s seat, sharing a small grin as they heard Wrecker almost trip over Gonky in the back of the ship. 

The feel of his datapad in his hands, the cables and buttons an extension of his fingers, his mind, himself. 

Dirt falling from Omega’s hand as she pondered it with gleefully wide eyes after they landed on Saleucami. The granules somehow stained the white patches of fog currently engulfing him.

The faint hiss of a pod door opening and the wide eyes of Nala Se staring down at him with an inscrutable expression.

As the chill of the air around him began to pierce through his armor, his heart rate slowed, and memories began to overlap and merge together. It was like looking at a holostream, except instead of one program in linear sequence there were dozens of images swarming him at once, demanding his attention. 

Long nights on watch playing games against himself, with only Gonky to keep him company. A clap on the back from Cody, and a bemused, worried look from Rex. Dozens of droids sending blaster shots over their heads, one battle interchangeable for another. A toothpick dangling from long, slim fingers. Wrecker lying prone on a medical table on Bracca, Omega hovering over him. The whine of a racing pod, and voices distantly chanting his name as he gave a calm salute. A pounding pain in his shoulder from Wrecker punching him, repeatedly, from excitement. The shock on Romar’s face as a model 2 data core sprang to life under his steady hand. A sunset dipping low on Pabu, transferring its warmth to the lights that flicked on simultaneously in response.

The brimming electrical activity in his mind and the weightlessness of his limbs created a heightened, soothing sensation.

Grey, churning waves lapping at the window outside his bunk on Kamino. The whirr of Echo’s scomp calibrating the hyperdrive. Hunter’s voice, gruff and low as he looked back over his shoulder. The glancing light of a waterfall on Omega’s face, stained blue with tears. His hand moved to reach for her shoulder, to give her comfort the way he always did. 

Suddenly, all but one of the images faded away. Dark, fluffy curls and hazel-green eyes swam in front of his face, blurring and dancing in odd waves. Flashes of gold too. He thought he heard a lilting, familiar voice calling to him as his vision darkened. “I’ll see you soon, Brown Eyes.”

Those same eyes closed, red and swollen as the seal from the goggles that were made to protect them slipped. Air lashed at Tech’s exposed face and tears slid past his eyelashes and down his cheeks. As consciousness began to fade, he could almost convince himself that it was just a result of the wind. Just the wind…

What other choice could he possibly have made. 

[ryanfrogz]

Northtown Maintenance-of-Way, part 3

For the final part of this mini-series, I'll be focusing on a few miscellaneous, specialized machines used in the track maintenance process. Each one's role can be done by other, less specialized machines, but it would be a good deal harder.

This is a Mineral Products Inc. Multi-Purpose Machine. It's a mechanical jack of all trades, used for everything from trenching to blowing snow off of tracks. Its most common use is as a 'yard cleaner': the big broom mounted to the front picks up material between the rails and loads it onto a conveyor belt, which can dump it off to the side or into a towed railcar. Another popular job is snow removal: the broom is exchanged for an auger system, and the rear-most conveyor can be replaced with an impeller fan and chute. MPI's website says the machine can move 2000 pounds of snow per hour, and the blower can fling it up to 150 feet away from the tracks. Because it's not limited to just the rails, it can also be used on yard roads & parking lots. Other attachments include a trencher, air blower, rotary broom, and a hydraulic arm which can be fitted with its own range of attachments. I'm starting to sound like a shill here... but it is a pretty cool piece of kit.

The next piece of machinery is Herzog's ACT, or Automated Conveyor Train. It's a special set of cars which uses a conveyor system and swinging boom to "precisely" drop ballast where it's needed. The yellow thing seen above is the train's main power unit. I don't know if it uses hydraulic or electric motors, but this car powers them. Each train set has up to 30 cars, which are just high-side gondolas with conveyors in the bottom. Each car has its own conveyor, which dumps into the next car's conveyor through a small hopper.

A closer look at the connection between cars. I don't know if the water is from recent rains or the train's dust suppression system.

And here's the 'front' of the train, which is really the end. It features the operator's cabin and the most important bit, the unloading arm. It can move ballast 50 feet from the center of the tracks, according to Herzog's website. Conveyor trains like this one are mostly used for filling in washed-out track beds, but can also strategically place piles of ballast for future projects. As of writing this post, the control car is still less than a year old. It really is the cutting edge of ballast-dropping technology!

The last machine is another Herzog product: the creatively-named Rail Unloading Machine. It looks complicated, but is actually quite simple. A crane arm feeds sticks of continuously-welded rail (CWR) into a roller system, which feeds it forward (backwards, really) through two clamps and onto the ground.

A view of the other side. Same deal, but all folded up. Check out the flex on that arm!

[dangraccoon]

Jari’eyc - Chapter 20

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1209

Content: pheepheepheepheepheepheepheephee, Hemlock's toxic gas is kinda like a nightmare gas, Jaine's abusive uncle, verbal abuse, injections, injuries, brain trauma, slim odds of survival, thinking your family is dead, illness, pain, prison break, cody being a stubborn ass

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Hunter could practically feel Fives’ nerves as he watched the ARC pacing the hangar. “Thought you trusted this person?” he asked. 

Fives met his gaze. “I do,” he affirmed, nodding. “I mean, she’s great, even though she works with Cid. I don’t mean everyone who works with Cid is untrustworthy– It’s just that I–”

Before he could finish, another ship came in to land at the hangar. Hunter rose from the crate he’d been leaning on. Seeing Fives lower his mask over his face, he pulled his own helmet on. He watched the ramp lower with curiosity. A figure in a leather jacket walked out, her hand resting on her hip, where Hunter noted a decently sized vibroblade sword. 

“Now isn’t this interesting,” the stranger laughed, striding over to them. “After all this time, I finally get to meet the mysterious ‘Forn’. I gotta tell you, I was starting to think Short Stuff was making you up.”

Hunter’s gaze snapped to Fives. “You’ve never met?” he hissed.

“Not… exactly,” Fives’ modulated voice said.

Phee looked between the two. She tipped her head towards Hunter. “A friend of yours?” 

“You could say that,” Hunter grumbled.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” she said. “You’re from that group of stray clones Cid’s been working with, aren’t you?”

Hunter grunted, his mic barely picking it up.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she chuckled. “Name’s Phee.”

-

“Ms… Vale?” the nurse called. 

Jaine stood, and followed the nurse into the network of hallways in the medical center. 

“You’re here for… a military physical?” the nurse asked. She sounded surprised. 

“Yes,” Jaine answered, her brows pulling into a scowl.

“You are going into the military?”

“Yes,” she repeated as they arrived at the exam room. 

The nurse scoffed. “I guess every organization needs secretaries.”

“I’m a medic, actually,” Jaine said curtly. 

“A medic?” the nurses voice shifted. The resentment that was boiling in her gut quickly turned to confusion and fear. “Silly little medic,” taunted the nurse– no, this wasn’t what that nurse said. “You think you’ll be any more useful out there?”

No. That voice– that voice sent a chill down her spine. 

“You were just as useless to them as you were to me,” Jaine’s uncle spat. “You destroyed our world and just moved to the next. How many lives did you ruin in your wake? How many people could you have saved if you weren’t such a waste of space?”

“I- I wasn’t- I’m not–”

“The toxin is working, Doctor.”

Doctor Hemlock smiled. “Excellent. Doctor Karr, administer Bavo Six. Record anything and everything she says.” He turned and left the room, leaving her alone with Jaine.

“Yes, Doctor,” Emerie answered anyway. She prepared the autoinjector.

Jaine struggled lightly against her restraints. “Please, Uncle, don’t-”

Emerie leaned down to her ear. “Jaine, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I am not injecting you with Bavo Six,” she whispered, placing the autoinjector to Jaine’s neck, the latter whimpering. “This will clear up the remnants of the toxin. Once you are stable, I will contact your squad with the coordinates of this base.”

-

Tech had approximated the path towards the rail based on where he’d found her crashed on the edge of the lake. The trek in that direction was long, slow, and filled with a tense silence.

He had not been quiet about his certainty that the others had likely not survived to escape Eriadu, despite Runi’s constant protests and seemingly endless hope.

Tech had run the numbers during a fleeting moment where his mental fog had lifted. Without the additional weight of the second car, the railcar his family was in would have accelerated rapidly, and there was likely little Echo could do to control it, especially considering that he was likely in shock from Runi jumping to rescue Tech. The odds of the groups’ survival seemed slim, though it was helped by the fact that Fives and Sinya were aboard the Marauder and could likely take care of the others.

Runi had refused to believe his rambling explanation of probability. She knew he wasn’t thinking negatively, just logically, but she still preferred to think that everyone was safe and unharmed. She needed to believe they were alright. Still, her heart ached.

The odd pair had briefly discussed their differing viewpoints, but ultimately agreed to stop as they were simply arguing in circles. So instead they walked in silence.

They stopped frequently to rest; their bodies were aching from the collection of injuries they’d accumulated from their landing. Runi could tell Tech was getting irritated by the amount of time they were spending resting, but she also knew he needed it more than she did. Though, with much of her body covered in bruises and small abrasions, she found herself missing her old armor, sitting in a box in the small apartment she shared with Fives in Ord Mantell.

“What are you thinking about?” Tech asked abruptly, looking surprised as if he hadn’t meant to ask aloud.

She chuckled at the look on his face. “My family, I guess,” she said, picking at a stone near her boot.

Tech nodded, but realized his curiosity ran deeper. “Will you… tell me about them?”

It was her turn for surprise. She had only known Tech for a couple months, but she’d never taken him as the type to be interested in others’ personal lives. “What, um… what do you want to know?”

-

Another set of harsh coughs racked Cody’s body as he leant against a tree until he could catch his breath. He hated jungles.

“Are you alright?” his companion asked, her hand on his shoulder.

“Fine,” he grunted, opting not to grumble about jungles being his least favorite environment. 

“I can carry Jaine, if you want.”

Cody turned his head to meet her eyes hidden behind red lenses. Emerie’s expression was confident, but the look in her eyes was hesitant.

Cody glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious face of his friend. 

“It’s alright,” he said, heaving her up a little higher on his shoulders. “I’ve got her.”

Emerie looked like she wanted to say something but chose not to.

They continued their trek through the difficult terrain, Emerie watching Cody as the journey strained him more and more. Every so often she’d offer to relieve him of Jaine’s extra weight across his shoulders, only to be answered by a gruff refusal. Eventually, they’d slowed to nearly a crawl between his struggle not to cough every other breath and the pain that shot through his right leg with every step he took.

“Cody, this is clearly not sustainable,” she argued after her offer of help was turned down again. “We’re hardly making any progress, and it will be getting dark soon.”

Cody stopped and sighed. Slowly, and painfully, he lowered himself to a kneel, allowing Emerie to help ease Jaine from his tired shoulders. She wrapped her arm around Jaine’s waist, putting Jaine’s arm over her shoulders. Cody stood and took a similar position on Jaine’s other side.

“We’ll make camp up on that ridge,” he said, pointing up a steep incline. “Try and use that tech you grabbed to send out a signal.”

She nodded, and they continued their escape.

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

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[bengiyo]

La Pluie Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Tai decided he would try to create encounters with his soulmate, who he believes is this vet named Phat. I believe we may be being misled about Phat as the soulmate, or at least he may be tricking Tai about wanting to defy destiny and make things work with someone else. Lomfon and Tian stopped beefing long enough to deliver for a BL short, but it seems Lomfon maybe has a thing for Tai. Also, their mom is getting remarried, and meddling in their lives. I'm very invested in the idea of a soulmate divorce.

I like switching focus to what's going on with Phat.

I am glad they accounted for Phat potentially losing hearing in the rain while operating a vehicle.

I get the sense that Phat has somehow knows about Tai for longer than we thought.

Oh, the vet is named Patts. I'll start correcting from previous translations.

Wait, so Patts is breaking things off with the Tai who ignores him to pursue the Tai he saw with a cat at a bus stop and in the cafe? This is kinda funny.

The vet crew is definitely in on whatever Patts wants from Tai.

The logo for the clinic is actually really good.

Talking about gently touching and massaging in a quiet room. I see you, Patts.

Normally, I might be frustrated with Tai pulling back, but it makes sense for all the uncertainty going on.

I really hoped they would talk at the bus stop, but the misunderstanding must continue.

This is the best sign in BL: LADY NIGHT BLING BLING GENTLEMEN AND GLITTER. The entrance looks like a railcar with a cheap plastic awning, and jts clearly in a driveway or parking lot. If this isn't a gay bar, I am going to be so disappointed.

All this black is not working on Pat.

Saengtai is that friend who doesn't check the chat and doesn't follow the dress code.

We knew the singing was going to happen, but this one isn't terrible.

Um, so where did the girl who was passed out go???

He really just bit him.

Now why is he in these sheets with a frayed comforter??

Oh, remember that tub for later.

Okay! So it's less complicated than I thought it was about to be. I like the idea of Patts very earnestly trying to move on from Tai for Tai. This is quite enjoyable for my specific sensibilities.

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (5/43)

Chapter 5: The Best Laid Plans of Mice

Candy made sure to bring a lunch with her the next day, along with some extra snacks so she wouldn’t get hungry. She packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bottle of water, chips, and pretzels into a brown paper bag. Her feet were swollen and sore from walking around in heels, and her calves and ankles protested the harsh treatment, but she reluctantly put on her uncomfortable work shoes anyway. She wondered to herself if her Giant boss would notice if she wore her sneakers instead, with how miniscule her feet were. She didn’t want to risk it. She didn’t want to be “punished,” whatever that meant in his twisted mind.

Once she felt fully prepared to face the day, she hobbled out of her apartment and down her usual path to the railway station. Considering her mishap yesterday with the elevator, she left early again in case anything else went wrong today on her way over. The sky was overcast; she hoped it wouldn’t rain. She boarded the car and shot off to her destination. The Big Corp Inc. structure, once it appeared on the horizon, looked bleak and dark against the gray sky, like a towering prison. The railcar stopped and Candy got out. She was still nervous about crossing the Giant sidewalk, but after doing it a couple times in prior days, the task was less daunting, more routine. She made it across without incident and headed inside. 

She went the opposite direction than where she had gone the past two days, toward the human elevator instead of the Giant one. She was still careful to sidle up to the wall, to prevent any accidents that would turn her into a gelatinous ooze on the tiled floor. The route took significantly longer, but she made it. She was relieved to be able to get up to the third floor on her own for once. She pushed the button to summon the elevator and waited. She thought about the thoughtful, kind Giant she had met yesterday. Maybe she would see him when she made it to the third floor, since his desk was close by. She liked that idea. 

She waited. And waited. She clicked the button again, puzzled. The elevator car never came. She swore under her breath. The elevator didn’t work. Why did she expect that things would actually work out for once? All the stress she felt yesterday came flooding back. Now, she was stuck on the wrong side of the lobby; she wanted to scream with frustration. Crossing through the center like a normal Giant would be too hazardous; she’d have to hug the walls all the way around. 

She huffed angrily and began the long journey, bemoaning her bad luck. She looked at the vast distance across the lobby. She was tempted to make a run for it. She gulped and started to creep away from the wall. There weren’t too many Giants strolling through the lobby presently. She might be able to make it. She darted forward, her heels clacking loudly on the expansive tiles. She moved as quickly as she could, making a concerted effort not to trip. Her lungs started to burn and her heart felt like it would explode, but she kept running. 

She tripped, of course. Fortunately, she didn’t injure herself badly, but she did scrape her knee and elbow on one side. She limped to her feet and kept going. Nobody had noticed her fall. She was gasping for breath and pouring sweat by the time she finally reached the other side. By some miracle, she had not been stepped on.  

“My goodness Candy, you look like you just ran a marathon!” Candy gazed up to see a familiar face, Bianca, looking down at her. The Giantess leaned forward with her legs crossed and her skirt pulled down, in a conscious effort to not flash the human standing below her. 

“Oh, hi Bianca,” she panted. “Can you take me up to the third floor, please?” 

“Of course!” the Giantess agreed, lifting the human up in her elegant hands. Candy was relieved to at least not have to struggle through the whole elevator fiasco again. “So how was your first day yesterday? I didn’t see you at all! Do you know which cubicle you were assigned to yet?” 

Candy tried to muster up some enthusiasm. “It wasn’t too bad. I haven’t been given a desk yet. I was doing training yesterday in Mr. Hardon’s office.” 

Bianca stiffened. “My condolences,” she said softly, stroking Candy’s hair to comfort her. “I hope he was decent with you. Where do you need to go?” 

“Back to the boss’s office, I’m afraid,” Candy informed her. Bianca grunted her disapproval but took Candy over and knocked on Mr. Hardon’s office door. He opened the door with a grin. 

“Ah, Ms. Bernoulli! And Ms. Caramello! Here together, no less! Be still, my heart!” He pretended to clutch his chest like he was having a heart attack and laughed. Bianca stared at him coolly but didn’t deign to respond. He snatched Candy out of Bianca’s hands, making the human cry out in surprise. She squirmed helplessly in his fist. 

“Hey! Be gentle with her,” Bianca protested.  

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I’ll treat her right,” Mr. Hardon retorted with a wink. He openly groped the Giantess’s breast before spinning around on his heel and strutting away. Bianca glared daggers at his back and readjusted her blouse. She stomped away to her cubicle in a huff. She wanted to punch him but restrained herself. 

Candy quivered, still recovering from being unexpectedly grabbed, and pushed against the Giant fingers tightly coiled around her. Mr. Hardon gave her a squeeze before transferring her to his open palm. “Now, Candy, behave yourself,” he warned sternly. She froze up at his tone, afraid of what he could do. She was shocked he had been so bold and insolent as to not only seize her from Bianca’s hand, but fondle the Giantess’s boob on top of that. His entitled sleaziness disgusted her. 

“This is going to be your cubicle,” Mr. Hardon announced. “It’s the nearest vacant one to my office, since I figure you’ll probably need to come crying to me for help every chance you get.” He snickered as he basked in his own brilliance. Candy glowered at him. He brought her inside and set her down on the desk. She looked around her, bewildered. Her workstation, besides the capsule machine on the side, was clearly intended for a Giant. The computer, keyboard, and mouse, along with the office supplies, were all massive in scale. Candy had anticipated at least having a human-sized computer. How could she be expected to do any work this way? 

Mr. Hardon turned on the computer and it hummed to life. He sat down in the Giant chair while Candy continued to stand awkwardly on the desk. She wasn’t even provided with a human chair to sit in, although she realized she wasn’t going to be doing much sitting while typing on a keyboard designed for a Giant to use. Instead, she would be on her feet all day, in those stupid, painful high-heeled shoes, typing words letter by letter. She stifled a sigh as Mr. Hardon showed her how to log on to the computer and open the work programs she would be using. 

The job didn’t appear to be too difficult, more tedious than anything else. She was going to be processing customer orders and payments and performing routine data entry into spreadsheets. Despite the relative simplicity of the work, Candy still struggled to grasp the basics and her Giant boss had to show her how several times before she finally seemed to catch on. The Giant had been joking earlier when he called her a dumb blonde, but he was beginning to realize she was genuinely not that smart. This fact didn’t bother him too much, though. He didn’t hire her for her qualifications or her competence, but rather because she was cute and little and sexy. He figured she’d have to be pretty dumb to be suckered into working with Giants, especially with all the blatant red flags regarding his predatory behavior towards her and the other female employees. With new hires, he usually tested them to see how far he could push their limits without impelling them to quit. Candy had exceeded his expectations thus far; she must be really desperate, his favorite type of employee.  

He was optimistic he might even be able to go the whole way with her, under the right circumstances. His loins awakened, eager at the thought. He shifted in his chair to ease the bulge in his pants and tried to ignore it. Even so, he fantasized about stuffing her in his underwear and feeling her squirm around and stimulating his genitalia. While such an act would be easy for him to do, since she wouldn’t be able to fight back against his massive size, he would prefer to have a willing participant if possible. He could be patient. There was a chance, however slim, that she might warm up to him. He had been able to snare plenty of lovely young ladies with his charm and handsome face, in spite of his advancing years, and this one was unusually naïve and dumb, easier to manipulate.  

With his power as a boss, he had plenty of sticks and carrots at his disposal to make her do what he wanted. He could always offer promotions, pay raises, letters of recommendation, good performance reviews, and special favors as rewards. On the other hand, he had lots of punishments available in his war chest too: threats of firing, extra workloads, pay cuts, demotions, mandatory overtime—the list was endless. If he so desired, he could make an employee’s life a living hell, and he could do so with complete impunity, as long as he maintained his sycophantic relationship with the CEO. He smirked to himself. He loved being in charge. 

Candy seemed to reach the point where she understood how to do her work without guidance, but she couldn’t type effectively on the keyboard with how large it was. Mr. Hardon laughed at first, when watching her try to leap from key to key. Her little face contorting with frustration and her tiny huffs filled him with amusement. She’d never last in the job doing it that way, though, so he harnessed some creative ingenuity by disassembling two pens and pulling out the ink cores. The slender tubes were thin and light enough for Candy to lift, yet stiff enough to compress a computer key. With her newly extended reach, she was able to type, albeit slowly. She still had to run over and drag the mouse around, but the job was feasible. The Giant observed her complete a spreadsheet and process an invoice, just in case. She was highly inefficient, for obvious reasons, but her Giant boss didn’t care much, as long as she met the minimum baseline. This was ostensibly her job, but he had ultimately hired her to fulfill his own perverted desires. 

Satisfied with himself, Mr. Hardon bid Candy adieu and left to harass and lord over some the other employees. Candy found the tasks given to her daunting, but pressed onward with determination. She typed with her pen cores even as her arms started to grow weary. After running back and forth for a while in heels, she made the decision to take off her shoes while she was at her desk, so her feet wouldn’t be dying by the end of her shift. She got into a rhythm and powered through her work as best she could. She smiled to herself as she realized she was actually doing it! Maybe she would be able to work here after all. Especially if the boss wasn’t breathing down her neck the entire time, like he was yesterday. Candy felt hopeful. She could do this. 

Chapter 6

First Chapter

[ifelllikeastar]

Though workers in many states started throwing Labor Day parades throughout the 1880s, it might never have become a national holiday if not for a historic strike and boycott that started in May 1894, when employees of a railcar manufacturer called Pullman Palace Car Company suffered deep wage cuts. They were joined in a sympathy boycott by the American Railway Union, which had around 150,000 members.

This huge coalition disrupted the nation; the USPS couldn't deliver mail in certain parts of the country. Railway transportation was an essential service, and essential workers were demanding better treatment.

In the midst of this unrest, President Grover Cleveland signed a law making Labor Day an official holiday, which some historians say was a move to make workers less hostile and to calm the waters during a period of continued labor discontent.

On July 4th, Cleveland sent 10,000 federal troops to Chicago to brutally end the strike. Thirteen workers were killed and 53 seriously injured there, with more than 30 killed throughout the nation that summer. The strike ended in failure for the Pullman workers, who won none of their demands.

Railway companies started to hire nonunion workers to restart business. By the time the strike ended, it had cost the railroads millions of dollars in lost revenue and in looted and damaged property. Striking workers had lost more than $1 million in wages.

On July 20, 1894, the strike ended. Less than two weeks later, the Pullman Company reopened their doors, agreeing to rehire the striking workers on one condition — they would sign a pledge to never join a union.