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bring-backup-99 · 8 months ago

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First Time’s The Charm

Read on Ao3

PAIRING: Tech x Phee

SUMMARY: Some sweet smut about Tech and Phee’s first time together

WORDS COUNT: 2501

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with feelings, PiV, fluff, kissing

NOTES: When I’m not working on my Batch reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, I occasionally write other stuff. I have a long form WIP that will probably never be finished, so you all might as well have the smut from it.

And yes, this is virgin Tech (which is basically the opposite of him in Bad Choices), though I will fight people if they suggest that he couldn’t still be good at sex from the start. The man loves research. He knows what and where a clitoris is. I will die on this hill.

The first night Tech had stayed with Phee, it had simply been a matter of them talking too late and falling asleep on her couch. When they’d woken up in the soft morning light, both had felt sheepish. She’d laughed it off.

“You’ll fall asleep anywhere, Brown Eyes.” He didn’t deny it.

A few days later, they were in her little workshop, telling each other stories, true stories, while she cataloged and he tinkered. As he walked her home, their hands brushed together until finally their fingers slowly intertwined. He didn’t come in, but they stood in the moonlight outside her door holding hands and talked about everything but what was happening between them.

When they had first met, so many rotations ago, she had liked him immediately, primarily because he was handsome, and then later because he was kind, brilliant, intense, and strong. He was so different from the other men she knew. Bringing them all to Pabu was impulsive, but she’d never regret doing it, giving them a safe space where they were appreciated for their kindness and desire to help, where they flourished, where Omega could have a home.

He began walking her home every night, and they would stand outside holding hands, until finally, one night, she leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

“This is nice, Tech,” she’d said, using his real name to show how serious she was. He’d looked down at her.

“Yes. I would use that descriptor as well.”

Impulsively, she’d risen onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, she was afraid she’d gone too far. His body had stiffened abruptly, but just as quickly it relaxed. The kiss was sweet and soft, close-mouthed. He’d pulled away slightly.

“I have never kissed anyone before.”

The words overwhelmed Phee. She had thought it was possible his life hadn’t allowed such things, and she wanted to be careful.

“Is this okay? We don’t have to.” Tech stopped her by lifting her chin so they could kiss again. She pulled him in, and they stayed on her couch while she taught him something new. He was a fast learner.

He stayed with her almost every night, slowly divesting himself of the various layers that he wore as the evenings passed. First, his utility belt and pouches. The night he took off his gloves, and she had felt his bare hands on her own, against her face and neck, had made her giddy. She spent the next day mooning over him like she was a schoolgirl. She chided herself for it; she was too old and wise for this nonsense, but Phee couldn’t stop.

And it was the night he took off his goggles because their kissing had knocked them askew for the umpteenth time that she knew she’d truly fallen for him. Someone’s eyes shouldn’t have that power over her, yet she’d never met anyone so absolutely honest that it reflected perfectly in their gaze. Phee’d been with other people, of course, but she’d never let them into her life the way she let Tech in.

Because she trusted him, and she knew this gesture from him was because he trusted her too.

“Can this come off tonight?” she whispered, running her hands over the chest of his blacks. Their embrace tonight had been particularly passionate and she wanted him as close to her as possible.

“Yes, I would find that acceptable.”

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, Brown Eyes."

"Just...proceed slowly."

Phee was trying to do just that. She’d imagined the first time they had sex, that she’d take him to a field of flowers or a beach at sunset…or the back of a library. But now she knew none of those was going to happen.

She circled him, her hand never breaking contact as she felt the contours of his body under the fabric. Finally, she faced him and slowly pulled up the shirt. She ran the back of her hand against his skin, noted that he was hardly breathing. She waited for him to relax, then pulled the shirt off, leaving his torso fully bare. She could feel his tension as he lay back on the bed, his eyes slightly glazed.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she lay beside him.

“Yes,” but the word was almost inaudible.

Tentatively, she stroked his chest, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. She didn’t know what she expected, but his slim, muscular frame fulfilled any fantasy she had had. Her fingers fluttered over a scar on his shoulder.

"Droid," he said. Another scar on his side. "Knife wound. Not from Hunter," he smiled. He turned slightly and showed her one on his hip. "Shrapnel, only partially because of Wrecker." She leaned over, kissing each of them. Hungry for him, she kissed a trail from his hip to his chest. Impulsively, she licked his nipple, and he cried out in shock. Phee drew back quickly.

“I'm sorry."

"No, no. That felt...intense. I was not expecting it.” He drew her to him, kissed her, then whispered, "Do it again."

Hungrily, her lips moved along his neck, drinking in every reaction he had to her touch, then down to his other nipple. Tentatively, she licked it, feeling the hitch in his breathing, then gently raked it with her teeth. He moaned. She did the same on the other side, reveling in his response to her.

His hands began to roam around her body, finding their way under her shirt. On fire, she pulled it off and let him explore her at his own pace. She was desperate to feel his skin against her own, but she did not want to overwhelm him. As she had explored him, his hands did the same to her; caressing the small of her back, the nape of her neck, the curve of her breasts. She gasped at his touch, inflamed, desperate for more. He pulled her closer, and she pressed her body against his, chest to chest. He rolled on top of her, lips locked together, one of his legs between her own. All her control was gone.

She let her hand slide down to the growing bulge in his pants.

"I want to touch you," she said, giving him time to stop her, but he was as inflamed as she was. He groaned and arched his back as her hand cupped him. His responses to her were unbelievable, feeding the flames of her desire.

“Please, take this off.” She fumbled at his pants. “Please, if you are ready.”

He stood and pulled them off, as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. Standing next to him, looking into his eyes, she took his erection in her hand. It took every ounce of his self control not to climax right then, the sensations were so overwhelming. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. She leaned forward to kiss him and look into his beautiful eyes. She took his hand, and together they guided his length into her as she lowered herself onto him.

He cried out as he entered her. She moved slowly, never breaking eye contact, until he was fully inside her.

“Tech, if you become uncomfortable or need us to stop—”

“I can manage,” he said, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on her, fingers intertwined. She waited a few moments, letting their bodies acclimate to the new sensations, then together they slowly began moving, finding a rhythm that suited them both.

He held her hips and pushed his pelvis up to be as deep inside her as he could. Her gasps and cries excited him in a way he had never felt, his body responding on instinct as she rocked against him more insistently.

He could see her eyes losing focus, even as he could sense the same in himself, as he felt the build up in his body, a pressure he had never experienced and did not fully understand. This was so different from the furtive, utilitarian fumblings he managed in the ‘fresher when the need arose.

In a move that took her breath away, he pressed himself up, put his arm around her waist, and rotated both of them so he was on top of her. The absolutely feral cry she gave him as her limbs wrapped around his body nearly sent him over the edge. He held her close, trying to slow down, to make this last longer, this sweet, intense, incredible feeling.

She refused to let it happen. She rocked her pelvis against him, desperate for him to lose control, to match her passion. He gasped.

"I need to...Phee, if you do not stop…I am too close," he groaned.

"We'll do this again," she whispered. "I want you. I want you inside me. I want to feel you." She felt incoherent, but she also felt him let go. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his arm, giving him an angle to somehow be deeper inside her. His body took over, his thrusts stronger, wilder. Her hands pressed on his lower back, encouraging him.

Her moans of, "Yes, please, yes. Tech. Yes," finally put him over the edge. The absolute bliss of the orgasm was almost too much for him. He buried his head in her neck, drowning himself in her essence, as it pulsed over his body. He lay still on top of her for what he thought was an eternity as the sensation slowly drifted away, leaving him tingling all over like exposed nerves.

Cautiously, she stroked her hand down his back. He shuddered a bit but didn't say anything, then slowly slid out of her as he rolled next to her.

"That was amazing," she whispered.

“I…quite agree.” He lifted his head and looked at her, "But you did not..." His voice trailed off.

She smiled, kissed him, "That's not always the most important part of sex. The...intimacy...this closeness I feel with you, right now. This is better. But also, that was still incredible. You're a natural."

"I did do some research before this encounter…Though it did not prepare me for the intensity of the physical stimulation." She laughed.

"Why is that funny? As I do not have any experience in this area, I wanted to be prepared."

"The idea of you doing research about this on your datapad is very funny, but I'm not going to complain about the results." She rolled out of bed to clean up.

"It will take a little time before I can physically do this again, but.." For a moment he seemed almost shy, "...would you want to when I am ready?"

She got back into the bed, snuggling next to him.

"Yes," she said huskily.

“You were correct,” he said, pulling her close against him, “This was... special. More than just a physical act.” He felt foolish for ever having suggested otherwise in one of their long conversations. His voice drifted off, and she thought he might fall asleep, but instead they lay in wakeful silence, intertwined.

“What is going on in there?" she asked.

In reply, his hands again began roaming over her body. Lightly, his fingertips raised goosebumps on her arms and down her back. She shivered but felt herself opening again for him. His fingers caressed her breasts, tracing a path around them until he moved and his mouth found her hard nipples. He gently stimulated one, then the other, with his tongue.

Now that his mind had cleared, he was studying her carefully. Every action and response was filed away. His hand stroked down her side, then to her already parted legs. He kissed her as his fingers explored between her legs, and he drank up her moans. He slid a wet finger up until he found her clit and just barely made contact with it, feeling her body tighten at the touch. He rubbed against it and was rewarded with a deep gasp. He slid two fingers inside of her, leaving his thumb to work against her sensitive nub. Her reaction was instant. Her thighs closed around his hand, and she groaned as his long fingers reached deeper into her.

"Tech," she whispered. "I need you...I need you inside me."

"Yes, but this type of stimulation will help you to orgasm. I want to ensure that first."

She shook her head, "Oh it feels so good, but I...I don't finish like that. I need..." In her state, words were hard to come by, "...the internal stimulation."

It took only a moment for him to process this, and then, "It does seem as if I am ready to fulfill this need." Her hand had been stroking him to hardness, but he was so focused on her he had barely noticed.

He pressed into her, slowly, each stroke entering her only a little more than the last, until one had a very pronounced reaction. Then he came up slightly on his knees, lifting her legs with him, sure that this angle would allow him better access to this most important spot. He began with short thrusts and was rewarded by her immediate cries.

"Yes, oh, Tech, yes, right there," though her physical reaction would have been enough for him to know he had gotten it right. Her hands had grabbed onto the covers, clawing at the sheets. He timed himself to match the crescendo of her moans and whimpers, varying his strokes, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, then returning to stimulate this more sensitive area, watching the build up of tension in her body, noting how her arms moved in spasms, her eyes closed tight, her mouth whispering incoherently.

Suddenly her fingers were digging into his forearm, her cries a higher pitched staccato than what had come before, and he watched the orgasm overtake her body. She writhed under him, his thrusts against her sensitive inner wall bringing wave after wave of pleasure. As her reaction finally subsided, he lay over the top of her, kissing her deeply, drinking in everything about her, feeling almost more satisfied now than when he had had his own orgasm. He rocked into her gently, feeling the length of himself enclosed in her, enjoying this unimagined intimacy and reveling in the whole of her.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could, breathing him into her. He pressed his forehead to hers as he let the second orgasm flow through his body, kissing her, needing her, wanting her.

“Good job, Brown Eyes,” she smiled. “Hard to believe that was your first time.” She liked seeing that satisfied glint in his eyes that came from praise.

“Yes, well, there is always room for improvement, especially since there seem to be an infinite variety of positions, techniques, and implements that can be used to enhance—”

She silenced him with her lips. “Slow down. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

And they did.

* *

I also write a smutty Bad Batch reverse harem series that can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

#tech x phee #pheetech #techphee #techphee smut #phee genoa #tbb tech #tech bad batch #bad batch #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #tech the bad batch #bad batch phee #tbb phee #phee tbb #the bad batch smut #tech smut #the bad batch #Let tech fuck

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leapingbadger · 3 months ago

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Sunset

Summary: Hunter meets up with a liberator of ancient wonders. Hunter POV.

Word Count: 2151

Read on AO3

Hunter sat at a weather worn table on the edge of Pabu’s hilltop market, listening to the idle chatter of passers by. The sun had started to set, a crimson slash across the horizon. Dusk was settling in. The lights of the island had illuminated a few minutes ago, giving the tropical paradise a warm, comforting glow.

“What do we have here?” a cool voice came from behind.

“I figured you’d show up eventually,” Hunter said with gruff voice and a smile. Phee Genoa, liberator of ancient wonders and long-time friend looked down at him with a smirk on her face. She patted his shoulder fondly as she pulled a neighboring chair out with an unpleasant scraping noise.

Phee looked ever the pirate, vibroblade strapped to her thigh, blaster at her side. Her hair, longer now, stretched down her back in box braids, colorful charms throughout making her look like one of the treasures she often hunted. A golden, oblong necklace hung around her neck. Hunter recognized the gift Omega had given her for her birthday. Inside was a drawing of Tech or ‘Brown Eyes’ as she so affectionately called him.

Hunter thought it was strange that out of all the people in the galaxy, she had turned out to be one of his most trusted friends. She was one of the few people he could confide in, sometimes more so than his own family.

She rocked back on her chair, so the front two legs were in the air and teetered there while a waitress brought her a drink. She raised it in salute and Hunter clinked her mug with his own before taking a deep swig of the bitter, amber liquid.

“So, what have I missed?” she asked.

Hunter shrugged, “Not much. Things don’t tend to change much these days,” he added.

Phee took notice, lowering her chair and resting her chin on her palm. “Is that a problem?” she asked, concern in her voice.

He shook his head and took another sip. “No, of course not,”

She looked at him, brown furrowed, “come on ‘Dark and Broody’, spill”

A shadow fell over Hunter’s face as she used the nickname Cid had given him. Cid, who betrayed them to the empire and led to Omega being captured.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. Realizing her mistake. “Old habit…I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Hunter said with a wave of his hand. He didn’t fault Phee, but the name brought up memories he would rather push to the back of his consciousness and forget about. Curiosity, however, got the best of him. “Have you heard from her lately?” she asked, not looking Phee in the eyes.

“I cut contact a long time ago, but I hear things… She disappeared a couple of months before you all escaped Tantis. No one’s heard of her since.” She eyed Hunter and he stared at his mug, swirling the amber liquid around so it formed a whirlpool in the middle. “I wondered…I mean, no one would blame you…if you… paid her a visit.”

Hunter looked into her deep brown eyes and smirked. “Believe me, we did think about it,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Once Echo left, Wrecker and I discussed it. Thought maybe she was a good place to start. She’d contacted the Imps, maybe she had a way of getting hold of them again. We could track them somehow…”

Phee raised her eyebrows, wordlessly asking him to go on.

Hunter didn’t like talking about that time. He signed but continued, looking anywhere but directly at Phee. “Look, I wasn’t in a good place. We decided against it. Wrecker, pulled me back from the brink on that one.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her drink sitting forgotten just out of reach of her fingertips. Phee had never been one to turn down juicy gossip.

Hunter wasn’t proud of how he’d handled the time after Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. Sometimes he thought he could have handled one or the other, but both at the same time set him on a path that he didn’t expect to come back from. He was reckless, dangerous and at times wild in his desperation.

“If we had gone back, it wouldn’t have been about getting intel. It wouldn’t have been about tracking anything. It would have been revenge, pure and simple. She would have been dead before Wrecker followed through the doorway. Besides, Ord Mantell was occupied by the empire by then. Tactically it was a no-win scenario. It wasn’t worth the risk.”

“Well then,” Phee said, seemingly relieved, “sounds like someone else took care of the problem for you. Ketch and Bolo run the parlor now, it’s basically an imperial hangout. So, what’s got you sitting here alone? shouldn’t Wrecker be cooking up his latest masterpiece?”

“He is. I decided to take a walk. I noticed you heading to the Archium. Figured you’d stumble in here eventually.”

“And what is it I can do for you?” she asked, amused.

“Tell me about your adventures. What have you been up to?”

Phee grinned and sat forward in her chair; her arms gesticulated wildly as she regaled him with the tale of an artifact long thought lost to a tribe on Dathomir. She had managed to find it in the most elusive place, of course.

Hunter smiled as she talked and leaned back into his chair. He loved listening to Phee’s stories of the larger galaxy. Pabu was the dream, what he’d always wanted but after almost seven months with limited travel, his feet were starting to get itchy, and he had started to question if settling down was really for him after all.

He caught himself at this thought and buried it. “It’s all you ever wanted. Ever since you left Kamino,” he told himself again. He’d been having this conversation with himself a lot lately.

Phee seemed to notice she didn’t have his full attention and cleared her throat. “Am I boring you?” she asked pointedly with an amused tone.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just…distracted,” Hunter could tell she wasn’t buying it. And he let out another deep sigh. “I’m feeling a little…restless. Without the Marauder we can’t just fly off at a moment’s notice and without that I’m feeling a little…trapped.”

She looked at him, surprised. “Pabu isn’t living up to your expectations?”

“No, Phee. It’s perfect. Omega’s in school and making friends, Wrecker’s got a job and a purpose, Crosshair is healing and painting. He’s selling some of art at the market on the weekend.” He added, “but I’m just here. I suppose my skills aren’t immediately transferable.”

“Hunter, you’re a smart guy. I’m sure you could do a lot of things,” She was always so ridiculously positive, it’s one of the things Hunter liked most about her. She was always able to put a spin on things.

“Rex contacted me the other day. Wanted help with a mission. I’d be away for a while.”

“Ahh...” Phee said, finally understanding. “What did the team say?”

Hunter looked sheepish, “I didn’t tell them.” He said, hurrying to follow up when he knew she was about to interject. “it’s not a mission for all of us. He just wants me.”

“Sounds like the perfect solution to your problem. Do the mission, get rid of the itchy feet. Everyone will be here when you get back” she said, relaxing in her chair again and downing the last of her ale.

The sun had fully set by now. The bright, pearlescent lights of Pabu cast shadows on the tiled floor. The smell of cooking meat drifted over from the other side of the market. Hunter didn’t like the idea of leaving anyone behind, even if that’s not what he was doing. Omega had been taken too many times. Crosshair was still recovering. And what if they weren’t here when he got back? That fear plagued him. He had been so close to losing all of them, losing everything. He didn’t think he could do that again.

Phee was watching him intently in a way that made him self-conscious. “What would Tech tell you to do?” she asked at last. She didn’t mention him often, at least not by name. She alluded to him, and sometimes when the light was dim, he caught her looking at Crosshair as though she had seen a ghost.

“Tech never backed down from a fight. He’d tell me to go. I’m sure he’d say that they would be fine without me,”

“Clever guy, that Brown Eyes,” she said softly. Her eyes looked suddenly sad, and she turned away from Hutner to brush her cheek.

“Yeah. He was.” Hunter said, he touched her shoulder briefly and gave it a squeeze. She nodded somberly and was back to her vivacious self.

“So, what are you going to do?”

****************************************************

Hunter stood at the base of the weeping maya tree, as the ship descended. His armor felt alarmingly heavy and cumbersome, and he felt himself pulling and the neck of his blacks. His vibroknife was strapped to his forearm, blaster in its holster and bandana tied tightly to his forehead. It felt familiar and strange at the same time.

He stood back and turned his head as the landing shuttle whipped dust and sand over him. Within a few seconds of landing, Echo appeared at the ramp, waving his scomp and he made his way to his former teammate.

They grasped forearms in greeting and smiled. “This all you’re taking?” he asked, indicating the small bag Hunter had at his feet.

“it’s a stealth mission, right? Figured traveling light would make the most sense.”

Echo nodded and looked over his shoulder, “where is everyone?”

Hunter smiled. He knew Echo wanted to see Omega and his brothers. “We said goodbye this morning. Wrecker is working, Omega has school, and Crosshair is in one of his moods.”

Echo raised an eyebrow, and a smile crossed his lips, “Oh?”

“Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate not getting an invitation to the party,”

Echo smiled again, “got it. Well in that case we can get moving. I found you a helmet. It’s not modified like your old one but it’s phase 2 armor, so at least it’s familiar. Needs a paint job though.”

Hunter gave Echo his thanks as they turned towards the ship. His helmet, and Wrecker and Crosshair’s had been lost on Tantis. They had more pressing matters when escaping than to go looking for them. Still, a huge part of his identity was caught up in that helmet and working a new mission without it made him feel a little unsure.”

Just as he boarded the ramp, he heard the unmistakable, hurried footfalls of Omega.

“Hunter,” she called as Batcher bounded behind her. She ran up the ramp to meet him and threw her arms around his neck. “don’t be too long,” she said into his shoulder, and she hugged him tighter. “Be sure to check in,”

Hunter held her for a few more seconds before setting her on the ramp with a thunk. She grinned and gave Echo a hug as well, a smile on her lips but tears in her eyes.

“It’s a stealth mission, Omega. I won’t always be able to check in.” he said, kneeling down to her height and resting his hand on her shoulder, “But Echo will send you updates. I’m going to miss you, Kid,”

Wrecker, Phee and Crosshair all made their way over to the ship from wherever they had been congregating. Hunter had assumed this morning’s goodbye wasn’t the last of it.

“Take care of yourself, Hunta,” Wrecker said, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug. He clapped him on the back with his shovel like hand and stepped back so his brother could come forward.

Crosshair was grim faced and scowling. Toothpick in his mouth, he held his augmented right hand in his left and rolled them over each other.

“I still think it’s a mistake to not take backup,” he hissed, eyes down. “But If you must go, be careful,”

“I will crosshair. Rex’ll be with me. I won’t be without backup,”

Crosshair nodded but he knew what he meant. He wanted to be his backup. Crosshair didn’t trust anyone else, even Rex, to do it.

Hunter tapped him on his shoulder and nodded. “I’ll be fine,” He smiled at Phee who had her arm around Omega’s shoulder.

“I think Brown Eyes would agree with your decision,” she said.

Omega looked up at Phee confused but Hunter nodded and smiled. “Keep an eye on them for me, Phee.”

“Hunta, if you need us. Call,” Wrecker said.

Hunter smiled. They had grown so accustomed to being together. He understood they would all have an adjustment to make. He gave Omega one last hug, Scratched Batcher under the chin and turned to follow Echo aboard. He looked up at the peaceful, blue, Pabu sky. They’d be fine for a little while. And when he came back, maybe he’d be fine too.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #clone force 99 #hunter tbb #bad batch hunter #bad batch phee #bad batch echo #bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch cid

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amandamadeathing · 7 months ago

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Headline for Tech and Phee, modified from @reductress .

"Attempt to avoid eye contact misread as flirting."

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fanfoolishness · 5 months ago

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a rain that sounds like home (4/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 4: Moving Day. Omega and her brothers move into their new home, but there are some stumbling blocks. ~5100 words, a Phee cameo, Crosshair & Omega POV.

---

Crosshair sat perched in the pilot’s seat of their stolen shuttle. The cockpit was dark and close around him, unfamiliar and foreign, a different make than the shuttles he had been used to in his time in the Empire. It took him a moment to find the comms. When he did, he took a deep breath and flicked on Echo’s message, sent to his private channel.

Echo’s holo appeared from the chest up. He’d found new armor, what seemed to be a combination of clone armor and stormtrooper gear. He gave a crisp, military nod as the message began. “Crosshair, Echo here. Been working with Vik on this job with Rex. He wanted to send his regards.”

Ah. Vik. CT-7243, as Crosshair had known him on Tantiss. They had never been able to actually talk, but Crosshair couldn’t help but memorize the numbers of the other clones in the CX training unit, used when Hemlock mocked them for their failures. Vik, like Crosshair, had resisted the training, even though it left him clearly weakened. CT-8102 had washed out of training, his mind twisted, and had been diverted to other experiments. CT-1744 had held out, like Vik. CT-3392 had been a success --

He rubbed the scar at his wrist unconsciously, his heart rate speeding up for a few beats before settling back down.

“I’ll check this channel regularly,” Echo said. “If you need to send anything privately.”

“If I need to,” Crosshair muttered under his breath. Like Echo was expecting him to crumble, expecting him to be unable to figure things out. He’d been through hard things before, and in far worse places -- the platform on Kamino, the icy wastes of Barton IV, the cell on Tantiss. If he’d survived those, getting through a nonfatal injury with his family around him in one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy would be child’s play. He wrinkled his nose, irritated that Echo didn’t think better of him.

“Keep at it, Crosshair. Echo out.” The holo flicked away into darkness, and Crosshair blinked. That was it? He sighed, leaning back in the pilot’s chair.

The door to the cockpit slid open, and Omega stood there in the dim lights from the rear cabin, holding Lula. “I thought I heard something,” she said accusingly.

Crosshair crossed his arms over his chest. “Shouldn’t you be asleep? Big day tomorrow. Moving in.”

Omega padded into the cockpit, the door sliding closed behind her, and sat down in the copilot’s seat. She and Lula wore matching skeptical looks. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Hrm.” He looked away and out the viewshield. “Tried it. Then I remembered Hunter said Echo left me a message.”

“Everything all right?” Omega asked. “We talked tonight. He couldn’t tell us much about the new mission he and Rex were heading on, but it sounded important.” She heaved a sigh. “I told him we’re moving tomorrow. I know he’s got to do what he’s got to do, but I still wondered --”

“If he might come back to stay,” Crosshair said. He turned back to her. “I’m sure he’ll visit in between missions. Isn’t that what it was like before?” He’d picked up that Echo had left the rest of the team well before things went wrong, and had been gone for a few months before he’d returned.

“Yes, but things are different now! Tantiss is gone, Crosshair! We did that! How come -- how come that isn’t enough for him?” She let out a vast sigh, squeezing Lula. “I’m not really mad at him, not anymore. I know him, I know he can’t rest when things are so unjust out there. I feel like that too sometimes. But I also feel like I just miss him.”

Crosshair swallowed, then hesitantly reached out with his left hand, laying it on her shoulder. He squeezed lightly, and she gave him a faint smile. “Thanks, Crosshair.”

He let her go, then leaned back in his seat. “So why are you awake?”

“I woke up. Weird dreams.” She didn’t elaborate, but instead ducked her gaze from him. He noted it, troubled, but wasn’t sure if he should pry.

“Come on,” he said, getting to his feet. “Get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

“Same to you,” she said sternly, but followed it with a warm, gentle smile as she stood. “Shh. Don’t wake Hunter and Wrecker.”

“I’ll do what I can,” said Crosshair. “But no promises.” He herded her before him, right arm brushing against her back. He was heartened when there was no phantom pain, just the welcome sensation of guiding his smaller sister back to bed.

---

“You ready for this?”

Omega turned to look up at Hunter, taking a deep breath and nodding. “I’m ready.”

Their front door slid open, and their home beckoned them in.

Omega skipped through first, heart pounding, stomach swooping. The pack on her back jostled with her bounding, and she forced herself to step a little more carefully, remembering what she carried in it. An enormous grin spread over her face as she looked around and her brothers set down the loads they’d been carrying.

It was small for a house, but massive for a shuttle or the Havoc Marauder. A little entryway opened up into a simple living area with a prefab dining table, chairs, and a soft sofa. The walls were bare except for a small inset alcove in the east wall, an area to display something. She thought she knew what might go there. There was also a small communication terminal installed near the table, easy to sit at if sending messages to Echo or anyone else.

She rushed forward to the windows opposite the entryway, whistling at the view. The wide windows revealed a little patio with green shrubs and a patch of bare soil, the rocky shore down below, and past that the sea, an azure ribbon glinting in the morning sun. “Batcher’s going to love being closer to the water,” she said eagerly. Batcher jumped up to look out the window, then gave her a slobbery kiss of agreement. “Okay, okay, I know!”

She turned back to wander to the kitchen, mouth hanging open slightly. “It’s all installed!” she said in delight.

Hunter gave her a slight proud smile. “We’ve been busy.”

The kitchen was cozy compared to Shep and Lyana’s, but quadruple the size of a ship’s galley. Clean counters with room for real cooking, not nuking ration packs, stood waiting. There was a stove, a cooktop, a conservator, all of them real-sized, not the efficiency-sized versions for military life. “We’ll have to figure out how to cook,” Omega said.

“That’s on you,” said Crosshair, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll see about that,” she laughed. She moved towards the hallway, glancing in at the roomy refresher with an actual bathtub, when her eyes fell on the two doors at the end of the hall. Excitement blossomed within her, but she forced herself to turn away from the hall and look at her brothers.

Wrecker stood in the middle of the living room, slowly turning with his arms spread, laughing to hear how his voice echoed in all the space.

Hunter grinned at him. “Look at that, lads. We’re home.” She’d never seen him look so happy, so unguarded. The way the joy spread over his face made him look so young.

Even Crosshair wore a soft smile, looking from Hunter to Wrecker to her. “Hard to believe it’s ours,” he said. “But it is, isn’t it?” He slipped a toothpick between his lips, rolling it back and forth thoughtfully. He nodded to her. “What do you think?”

“I love it. It’s our house!” She joined the circle they were standing in, looking at each of her brothers in turn. She didn’t know what to say. So she held out her arms, and they closed the circle, Hunter and Wrecker wrapping their arms around her, Crosshair squeezing her shoulder with his hand. She closed her eyes, leaning against all three of them.

They were safe, safe, safe.

“Maybe you should check out the rest of the house,” Wrecker said, sounding as if he was trying to avoid spoiling a surprise. She pulled away from the embrace and nodded, her eyes bright.

She walked down the hallway slowly, reverently, her brothers following behind. The starboard -- the right -- door opened for her, and Omega practically leaped into her room.

“Wow,” she said softly.

They’d been in the house plenty before Moving Day, raising walls and installing things. But she hadn’t seen what her brothers must have done yesterday while she was out with Lyana. That was why Hunter had wanted to move in last night!

They’d done so much. A bed -- not a heated padded bunk, but a real bed with real handmade blankets -- stood in one corner. There was a workbench with a small toolset all her own for if she wanted to tinker with tech or droids. A colorful little rug of soft woven fabric from the marketplace kept the room cozy in yellow, her favorite color. Several shelves were mounted and ready for Lula, or a dozen of her. There was a whole dresser just for clothes, though the idea that she would have enough clothes to fill it was astounding. Strings of tiny lights crisscrossed the ceiling, ready for nightfall.

She slowly set down her pack on her bed, then turned around with her arms held wide, her fingertips still feet away from touching the walls.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Like it?” Wrecker asked. As she twirled around she watched her brothers enter the room, looking down at her with pleased, happy looks. “I mean, I know it’s no gunner’s nest…”

“It’s perfect!” she gasped, charging forward and flinging her arms around his waist in a hug. He leaned down to pull her closer, his huge arms closing gently around her. “Thank you, all of you,” she said, pulling back from Wrecker and beaming at him, then Hunter and Crosshair in turn. Even Crosshair grinned back at her.

“Well, what are you going to put in it?” Hunter asked her. “We’ll have to get you a new bow, for one, but you’ve got room to expand now.”

“I don’t know!” Omega said. “I mean I have my things, but… there’s so much space here!” She opened her pack, pulling out Lula and resting her on her pillow. Then she reached in, pulling out something wrapped gently in one of her spare shirts. She hesitated, but it felt right to do this while it was just them, before the moving day party began.

“What’s that you got there?” Wrecker asked.

“I -- I brought these, but I thought maybe they should be out there, where we can all see them. It’s okay that I brought them, right?” She folded open the shirt, lifting out Tech’s goggles. “What do you think?” she asked, taking a deep breath.

Hunter’s face creased into something half like a smile, half like he might cry. Wrecker sighed, nodding, a slight sad smile on his face. A muscle in Crosshair’s cheek twitched, and his eyes darkened.

“Yeah,” said Wrecker. “‘Course it’s okay.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, leading her back towards the living room. “Let’s find a good spot. Someplace he woulda liked.”

Hunter stepped into place beside her at the end of the hallway. “Maybe by those windows. I think that’d be all right.”

“That’s what I was thinking, in the little alcove. A place just for him.”

She turned around, looking down the hallway for her other brother. “Crosshair?” she called.

He came out of her room slowly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, his face gray. Instead of joining them in the living room, he ducked into the refresher.

She frowned, then looked up to Hunter for reassurance. He laid his hand on her shoulder.

“He needs more time, Omega,” Hunter said quietly. “Come on, let’s see how these look over here.” He led her to the alcove, and she carefully placed Tech’s goggles there, adjusting them so they sat straight.

“Looks good, kid,” Wrecker said. He reached out to rub her back. She nodded, her throat tight.

The sun caught Tech’s goggles, and they lit up in golden-yellow, chromium gray, reflections playing over the walls of the little alcove. They felt right, being there.

It felt like Tech had come home with them.

---

So this was a party.

Parties were hard for clones to throw. Difficult to have a party without an actual home, though he’d heard rumors of regs trying it in their barracks during lights out and getting extra refresher duty for their trouble. But here they were with a real home around them, walls that belonged to them, and pockets of villagers standing around chatting, laughing, snacking. It was an actual party, and it was choking him.

It wasn’t that Crosshair couldn’t appreciate what the villagers were doing. They’d brought all kinds of things -- clothes in Omega’s size their children had outgrown, spare rugs, cookware, gifts of spices, even things like a painting of the sea and a woven tapestry to decorate the walls. They’d also brought enough food for a week in addition to snacks and treats to eat today. It was generosity on a scale he’d never imagined, and he was grateful for it.

It was just that there were so many people.

Laughter bellowed from the living room. Mox and Stak were wrestling with Wrecker, while Deke stood by watching them, laughing uproariously. “Go on, get ‘im!” he hollered, shaking his fist at his brothers. Wrecker responded by picking up each cadet with one hand nearly by the scruff. They scrambled to escape, trying their best kicks and grapples, but couldn’t come close to dislodging themselves from Wrecker’s grip. He threw back his head and laughed.

Crosshair leaned against the hallway wall, teeth cradling a toothpick, smirking at Wrecker’s antics. It wasn’t that long ago that Wrecker would still try to wrestle him down and pin him, which was a certainty if Crosshair couldn’t get away. His long legs kept him out of trouble sometimes, but just as often Wrecker would catch him and crow, holding him down with as much effort as if Crosshair had been a tooka kitten.

He sighed, shaking his head. It wouldn’t be long before the cadets were nearly full-grown. He’d spent some time with the boys before the Empire invaded, and since then the boys had grown several months’ worth of inches in the past few weeks. It had seemed normal to him once, the rate they’d grown, what the regs had looked like at that age. But now that he’d seen some of those kids from Tantiss, kids from around the island, the more and more he realized they’d been the strange ones. All of them.

They had thought they were so different from regs then.

He gazed at Mox, and saw Rex and Cody. He saw Echo’s face peering back at him from Deke’s. He looked at Stak, and he saw Mayday.

These were brothers, just as surely as Hunter, Wrecker, Tech.

He frowned. He’d heard some of the cadets’ stories. The boys had been from different batches, but each had lost the entirety of their batch or squad before finding each other. They’d lost everyone. They had seen terrible things.

But the cadets’ young faces still looked round and childish. Shinies, all of them. No scars, thick and fleshy at the temple, radiating starlike across the cheek. No tattoos to mark a skill, a point of pride. No blind eyes, no cybernetic implants.

No missing --

His stump brushed against his thigh, and he shuddered.

“Hey, Crosshair, want in on this?” Wrecker asked, letting the cadets drop to the ground. “These guys are fierce!” They bounced back to their feet, settling into combat stances with impressive scowls on their faces.

“I’m good,” he said. He lifted himself up from his leaning and wandered back to the bedroom he would share with his brothers, hoping for a little peace and quiet, but some kind of terrible racket was going on in there. The left door opened for him and Batcher flashed past, hopping from bed to bed, chased by a howling, squealing tangle of island children in some kind of game. Crosshair stepped out instantly and backed away, shaking his head. Not an option, then.

Omega poked her head out of her room, followed closely by Lyana. “Crosshair! Tell them to keep it down out there, Lyana and I are trying to talk!”

“Yeah, is there some kind of battle going on out there?” Lyana asked. The left door opened and Batcher came galloping out, a throng of children at her heels.

“No, there is not,” said Crosshair, and strode out of the hallway before the kids could pass him. He swung a left out of the hall as Batcher and the kids skidded out past him. He let out a long breath, then rubbed at his wrist, his nonexistent hand clenching in ghostly pain. He clamped down on his toothpick, grinding it between his teeth.

He looked around the living room again, which was even more crowded now with Hunter, Shep, and the family that was fostering the Tarlafar baby from the lab. The clone cadets had stopped roughhousing with Wrecker and were now discussing plans for some kind of island sport. He glanced around at the walls, taking in the alcove in the east wall where Tech’s goggles now rested. His eyes slid past them as if they were not there.

He slipped towards the front door, stepping out into the afternoon, and found himself on the patio in the sunny afternoon.

Their little patio wasn’t much, but it could be something. There was room for a bit of furniture, a chair or two. There was a sliver of shade from the house. The patch of rocky soil lined with short beachgrasses was wide enough to stretch out on, and the whole little area was bordered by a ring of thick, lush green bushes up to his waist, glowing with pink flowers. A short fence of dried beachwood at the edge of the bushes was just tall enough to lean on. He rested his right arm on the fence, bracing it against the wood, massaging it with his left hand.

He screwed his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. The pain throbbed, an invisible vise grip coursing tidally up to his elbow. He’d taken his medication this morning, but this was the hour between doses where the pain sometimes struck more severely. He took a short sharp breath, then another, sweat beading on his forehead as the afternoon sun beat down.

Nothing’s there. It’s healed. It’s not real. It’s in your head.

Like the tremors had been.

He shoved the fence away, breathing hard, anger flashing within him. The rickety fence stretched backward, then swayed back into place still vibrating. He glared at it, left hand curling into a fist, right stump held back. His phantom fingers reached reflexively for a pistol that wasn’t there.

“Argh!” he growled, now even angrier. He paced in the narrow confines of the patio, ringing round and round, now counting paces back and forth. Bigger than his cell on Tantiss, but not by much. He counted them a dozen times before he slowed, coming to a stop again in front of the fence. The sensations in his arm had cooled and shifted back to nearly normal, leaving him spent.

He spat out his toothpick into the bushes and pulled out a fresh one, biting down until the ends splintered. He closed his eyes, worrying the toothpick back and forth between his teeth.

He wondered if a prosthetic would make these waves better. Maybe if there was something for the sensations to animate, they’d be less overwhelming. He held out his stump, every detail writ large in his clear vision.

A rippled sear of scar tissue, pink and roughly linear but thicker in some places than others. The vibrosword blade had -- jittered -- when it hit bone. The blow had chipped off fragments of some of the wrist bones, AZI had said, causing swelling and remodeling that was only now starting to improve. All of it had left his right arm thinner and less muscular than the left due to disuse.

He sighed. Would he feel whole with a cybernetic hand, mechanized fingers curling and uncurling, powered by gears and wires? Would that fix him?

He wouldn’t have to rely on Hunter to take care of his food for him. Wouldn’t have to ask Wrecker to cut his hair. Wouldn’t have to see Omega wearing that protective look of hers, every time she glimpsed his ruined arm.

But he wasn’t sure a new hand could fix the other thing. The thing he didn’t have words for, the empty pit deep in the heart of him, the sleeplessness, the dreams, the way life felt so unreal these days. He didn’t know what to call it, but it ached as badly as his arm.

“Hey there, Crosshair,” came a familiar voice. He turned around. Phee was carrying a crate, coming up to the front door. She set down her crate by the door and edged past the corner of the house to the patio. “You get lost on the way to the party?”

He stifled a faint snort of laughter. She was sharp, he had to give her that. “Not exactly. Parties aren’t my… thing.” He leaned against the fence, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hm. Can’t say I’m too surprised to see you out here,” she said.

“How’s that?”

“No offense, but I know being a sniper’s about more than just good eyesight.” She drew herself up beside him. “A good sniper’s at their best alone.”

Crosshair tilted his head in a brief nod. “True enough.”

She smiled. “Besides, I cheated. Tech told me you weren’t big on crowds.”

”Or chatting,” he said, turning away, though his voice was without any real venom.

“I can see that,” Phee chuckled. “But hey. Seriously though.” He turned back to face her, and she saw her glance at his stump. “You holding up?”

“Enh,” Crosshair said. He ducked his head.

“Look. I just wanted to say, I’m glad you all came home.”

He heard the words she didn’t say: This time. He didn’t reply.

“All right, then… guess I’ll head in, since you don’t seem to be much for conversation. You staying out here?” Phee asked.

“I -- wait,” Crosshair said, meeting her gaze. She stopped, giving him a curious look. “Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” Phee asked. “Stopping by? Checking in with you? Just being a decent person?”

“For helping us,” said Crosshair firmly. ”For Omega.”

She let him speak, her expression softening in surprise.

“We couldn’t have found Omega without your help. If we’d been any later — or we hadn’t got Rampart — I don’t think we would have made it.” His toothpick cracked in half, and he spat out the remnants, reaching immediately for another. He rested it between his lips, biting down on it still harder than he meant to. “So thank you.”

She gave him a bright smile, though there was a hint of something sad in it. “Of course. I love that girl, you know. She’s special. If I can do anything to help you boys with her, I’m there.”

He smiled quietly. “She has that effect on people.”

She nodded, tilting her head as she looked closely at him. “You know, I see the resemblance.”

He blinked at her, puzzled. ”Well, we are clones. We all resemble each other.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You and Brown Eyes, specifically. You two were close, weren’t you?”

He went still. We were, once. But he couldn’t say that, not to an acquaintance like Phee, not to himself.

“I heard the same about you,” he said instead.

Wrecker had been the one to tell him, not long after the first escape from Tantiss. Omega hadn’t even realized, but Wrecker told him Phee and Tech had been spending time together, watching the sunset, going on walks around the island. Little things, but towering firsts for any of them. Once he’d met her, Crosshair had seen why in an instant.

She sighed. “I wish — I wish there’d been more time. We were just getting started, you know?” She gave him a tight smile.

More time.

He could have been happy with her.

But Phee and Tech hadn’t had enough time, Tech hadn’t had more time, and the weight of it pressed on Crosshair like a stone.

He swallowed, casting around to change the subject. “What’s in the box?”

”Oh, this? Just something I liberated.” She brought back the crate to the patio, cracking open its sturdy lid. “Not sure if you boys got to have toys back on Kamino when you were growing up way too fast, but turns out ships from the Grand Army of the Republic were pretty popular toys for younglings during the war. I couldn’t get you guys a full-sized version, but I thought Omega might like this in her room.” She pulled back the lid, and he peered down at a large model of a Marauder-class ship. ”Not that it’ll be up to Tech’s specifications, but I think she’ll like it.”

Crosshair let out a long breath. “She’ll love it,” he said with a chuckle despite himself. “You ought to go give it to her.”

“Still trying to shoo me away? You’re not exactly subtle.”

He gave her a faint smile. “No, not this time. I just thought Omega would be excited.”

“I sure hope so! Fine, I’ll head on in.” She glanced at his stump, hanging at his side. “But I was sorry to hear you fellas were hurt. I know Tech said you were tough, but… that’s a hard blow for anyone. I talked a bit with Echo about things before he left. I’ll keep an eye out for prosthetics, too, if you’d like. I got a lot of contacts, and if they can help you out…”

He didn’t want her pity. Or her help. But he thought of Tech here on Pabu beneath the weeping maya, maybe smiling at Phee. He couldn’t even imagine it, and yet it had happened. She’d been there for Tech; she’d made him happy. And she’d helped them rescue Omega.

He stuffed down his first response, a defensive no way in hell. Instead he went with, “You don’t have to. But… if you do see anything—“ He shrugged, gesturing around at the beautiful view. “I’ll be here.”

”Fair enough,” she said. “Now come on. You want to see her face when I give this to her?”

”Yes. I do.”

---

“Omega?” Crosshair said quietly. She blinked, sitting up blearily.

“Did I fall asleep? Where are we? Where is everyone?”

“We’re in the house, kid,” said Hunter. “Our house.”

“What about the party?” Omega yawned.

“Everyone’s gone home,” Hunter said. He knelt stiffly beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes. “Come on. We should get you to bed.”

Wrecker stretched his back, preparing to reach down for her. “I got her.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore. You don’t have to carry me,” Omega said, still yawning, then broke into a tired grin. She got to her feet, flinging her arms out in a big stretch. “I’m going to go to my room.”

Her eyes widened in delight. “To my room! There’s so much to do tomorrow. I have to figure out the best way to show off the cool shells Mox and Deke and Stak brought, and where to put the jewelry from Lyana, and the ship from Phee, and my new clothes, and -- and --” She broke out into sleepy laughter. “I love all of this. I love you, little brothers.” She reached out, swooping Wrecker in a fierce hug, then turned to Hunter, throwing her arms around his neck. He patted her, chuckling, and she turned to Crosshair.

He was ready this time. It’d been the last thing he could have imagined once, Omega rushing to him, arms flung wide in a pure and emotional hug. She’d known it was him, right? But that night on the bridge he’d heard her weeping against his cheek, even through the rain, and he’d realized how wrong he’d been.

She reached out to hug him, and he hugged her back, cradling her briefly with his good arm. He was getting better at this. He closed his eyes for a moment, holding her close before releasing her, then bending down nearer to her level.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he scolded, half-smiling.

“Crosshaaaaair…”

“What he said,” said Hunter, though a grin stole over his face. Wrecker laid a hand on Hunter’s shoulder as they watched Omega pick up the model of the Marauder from the table and carry it back to her room, cradling it carefully in her arms.

“Well, ‘spose it’s our turn,” Wrecker said. “What a day, huh? Man, when Phee brought out that Marauder… I gotta say, I got a little misty.”

“I think we all did. That was special,” Hunter agreed. “Kid loved it.”

“It was good for her,” Crosshair said. “And thoughtful as hell.”

“Phee’s just like that,” Wrecker said fondly. He rubbed his eyes. “Shoot, I’m almost as sleepy as the kid. You two coming to bed?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter. “Having half the village visit us was uh, a lot. It was good. But it was definitely a lot.”

“You can say that again,” Crosshair said. “You two go on. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Hunter gave him a look, and Crosshair suspected Hunter knew what he was up to. He waited as they both headed down the hallway. Once the bedroom door had closed, Crosshair sat down at the table where their communicator was mounted. He stared at it for a few moments, the sounds of the ocean in his ears, then reached out and picked up a commlink. He adjusted the settings to where he wanted to call.

Echo’s signal beeped on the holo, but it was the code that indicated there was only a message option. Of course, he’d told Omega this was around the time he was moving out with Rex. Crosshair stared for a moment at the beeping comm, wondering what to say, knowing it needed to be brief.

He took a deep breath. “The new house is ready. There’s room for you if you need it. Omega still misses you.”

He thought about saying, Maybe you should look around for something for my hand. He thought about saying, This is a real home. I can’t believe it’s ours. He thought about saying, Sometimes the phantom pain reminds me of Tantiss. He thought about saying, Do you remember being young?

He swallowed, thinking of Omega’s joy, her shining face. “It was a good day. Visit soon.”

He nixed the connection, and sat there blinking until his eyes cleared.

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair bad batch #omega bad batch #phee bad batch #bad batch crosshair #bad batch omega #bad batch phee #my batcher fic #a rain that sounds like home

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