#echo angst/comfort

[zoeykallus]

Hello there! I was wondering if you could do echo and reader oneshots where the reader is gets injured during a mission and she’s scared of the droids and equipment like echo is and he helps her stay calm during the medical exam. 🥺 I just feel like echo would be such a caring little bean with something like this.

General Kenobi! Aloha!

Sweet Echo is perfect for a scenario like this, for sure!

TBB Echo x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Right Here With You

Warning: Angst/Panic Attack/ Injury/ Fluff/Comfort

__________

After being injured on a mission, you need to go to the infirmary. Your anxiety flares up, and you want to get out of there as soon as possible. However, Echo comes to help you get through the time in the infirmary.

__________

You are lying on the stretcher, surrounded by two medics and a medical droid. Your pulse is racing, you feel the pain in your side and in your leg, where the blaster shots hit you. But more intense than the pain is the feeling of helplessness, the sterile environment you've just been brought into, the droid, the strange faces, the equipment and medical tools around you.

Your eyes twitch in panic from one point to another, searching for something familiar, but everything you see and hear is alien and sterile, cold and mechanical, even the two medic clones. Familiar faces and yet not. Bright, cold light surrounds you.

Your heart beats fast and hard in your chest, as if trying to break out, your breathing is erratic and much too fast.

"She is hyperventilating," you hear the droid say in his mechanical manner.

Somewhere in the chaotic helplessness you feel, you keep feeling the pain burning up, sharp, stabbing, hot. Yet the pain is not predominant, it is fear that is much more dominant, helplessness. Tears run down your cheeks, you didn't even notice, but now you realize that your face is wet. You feel as heavy as lead, as if paralyzed.

Someone injects you with painkillers. The pain subsides, but the panic does not.

"She's still hyperventilating, her pulse is going crazy," says one of the clone medics.

The other says, "It's not the pain."

"A panic attack," the droid says matter-of-factly.

"Echo," the word, the name, comes over your lips, shaky and quiet, but one of the clones has heard you.

"What are you saying?" he inquires softly.

"Echo," you repeat a little louder in a hoarse voice, "Echo, I want Echo."

The clones look at each other.

"Echo? Is that one of our brothers?" one asks the other.

"Yes I think so"

"He was with me when I arrived here. Where is he?" you say much more clearly, yet panic still almost constricts your throat.

The droid says, "It's against protocol to-"

"Shut up tin can," one of the clones grumbles at him and says to his colleague, "Go check outside, maybe he's waiting there."

The droid says, disgruntled, "This is unusual and not according to protocol"

"I don't care, I want Echo" you growl at him.

The clone with you says, "It will definitely help her to calm down if he is there".

The droid says impassively, "Tranquilizers would have done the trick."

You hear a familiar voice say your name. You turn your head and see Echo enter the treatment room, accompanied by the second Medic. He looks worried. The look in his eyes is gentle, but his brow furrows in worry.

"Echo!" you exclaim with a sob that startles not only him, but you are a little as well. Until just now, you didn't realize how upset you really were.

He hurriedly comes closer to your side, reaching for your hand on your uninjured side. You cling to it with trembling fingers.

Echo speaks to you calmly and gently, "Hey, sweetie, it's okay, it's going to be okay".

"Please stay here," you say softly, still crying.

Echo nods with a soft little smile.

"I'll stay right here with you".

You let out a shaky, relieved sigh. As you look at him, your pulse gradually calms. Your heart still feels a little agitated, but nowhere near panic anymore.

"Look at me and breathe with me, slowly and steadily, deeply in and out".

You do what he tells you and gradually feel the fear dissipate. The clones and the droid tend to your wounds, but you only look at Echo and he at you. His smile widens a little.

"You're doing great," he says affectionately.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

He frowns.

"Why? What are you sorry for?"

"For being so whiny."

Echo shakes his head, "You're not whiny. You took quite a beating, and you're still in a bit of shock, I've seen seasoned soldiers have more severe panic attacks over lesser things."

You smile and say, "I know you're lying, but that's sweet of you."

Echo shakes his head, "I'm not lying."

You take a deep breath, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. Finally, you ask him meekly, "Please don't tell the others."

Echo leans in slightly and whispers, "It will be our secret."

"Thank you" you say touched and add, "I feel safe with you. I'm sorry if I ambushed you with this".

Echo laughs softly and says, "I'm the last person to blame you, you know how much I hate this place" more gently he adds, "And I'm very flattered, my dear"

"Can you stay until I'm allowed out of here?"

Echo nods and smiles.

"As I said before, I'll stay right here with you".

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@starwarsnerd111

[librababe99]

Echoes of Her

A/N: Nothing like a little angst to start everyones day! As always comments and feedback are appreciated--My asks are open as well! I hope everyone enjoys - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Summary: Caught in a painful love triangle with Logan and Jean Grey, the reader confronts Logan about their unspoken connection... Warnings: Angst, Hurt without comfort, love triangle  Word Count: 1146 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · ·

The silence in the mansion's corridors was thick, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every step you took echoed off the cold, marble floors as you made your way to the training room. It was late—too late for anyone else to be awake—but you knew he'd be there. He always was when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

You paused outside the door, your hand hovering just above the handle. A part of you didn't want to go in. You already knew what you'd find—Logan, shirtless and sweating, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself far beyond what was necessary. He didn't need to train, not really. You both knew that. It was his way of escaping the thoughts that clawed at him, the memories that refused to stay buried.

And you knew why he was there tonight.

Jean.

The name alone sent a sharp pang through your heart. You weren't naive. You saw the way Logan looked at her, the way his eyes softened, his gruff demeanor shifting whenever she was around. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any confession ever could. He loved her—he loved her in a way that was primal, consuming. But Jean… Jean was with Scott.

You weren't sure where you fit into all of this. You and Logan had a connection, something raw and unspoken. But it was hard to define what that was when his heart was so clearly caught between two worlds—between you and the woman he could never truly have.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. Logan was there, just as you knew he'd be. His back was to you, the muscles of his shoulders and arms flexing as he pounded his fists into the punching bag.

"Logan," you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge you. His focus was singular, every punch carrying the weight of his frustrations. You walked closer, each step feeling like a mile, until you were standing just a few feet behind him.

"Logan, please," you tried again, your voice trembling.

This time, he paused, his hands dropping to his sides. Slowly, he turned to face you, and your heart clenched at the sight of his face—those deep-set eyes, filled with pain and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Why are you here, kid?" he asked, his voice rough and tired.

You winced at the nickname, one he'd given you long ago when you'd first joined the X-Men. Back then, it had been endearing, a sign of the bond you were building. But now… now it felt like a reminder of the distance between you.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Logan huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Needed to clear my head."

You nodded, though you both knew it was more than that. "I thought maybe… maybe you needed someone to talk to."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the walls he'd built up around himself start to crumble. But just as quickly, they were back in place, his expression hardening.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Logan… you don't have to pretend with me. I know you're hurting."

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he looked away. "And what do you want me to say, huh? That you're right? That I can't get her outta my head? That every time I see her with him, it feels like a goddamn knife in my chest?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the raw honesty in his words cutting through you like a blade. But it wasn't just his pain that hurt—it was the realization that you were a part of it. That maybe, just maybe, you were only a distraction, something to keep him from drowning in his feelings for Jean.

"I don't want to be your second choice," you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Logan's eyes snapped back to you, surprise flickering in their depths. "You're not—"

"Aren't I?" you interrupted, your voice trembling. "Because that's what it feels like. Every time you're with me, it's like you're trying to forget about her. But I can't—Logan, I can't be that person for you. I can't keep pretending that this doesn't hurt."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away, the distance between you growing. The look of hurt that flashed across his face was almost enough to make you reconsider, but you held your ground.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "I know you are. But sorry doesn't change anything, does it?"

Logan's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," you replied, your voice breaking. "And I don't know if I can keep doing this. I can't keep being in love with you when you're in love with her."

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle he was fighting within himself. But you knew—deep down, you knew—he wasn't going to choose you. Not really.

"I don't want to lose you," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You already have."

The words hung in the air, a finality to them that neither of you could ignore. And as you turned to leave, you felt a part of your heart break, knowing that this was the end of whatever it was you and Logan had.

You walked out of the room, each step heavier than the last, the distance between you and Logan growing with every second. You didn't look back—you couldn't. Because if you did, you knew you'd crumble. You knew you'd run back to him, and you couldn't allow yourself to do that.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you paused, your hand resting on the wall for support. The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over, and you let them fall, each one a release of the pain you'd been carrying for so long.

But even through the tears, you knew one thing: you deserved more than being second best. And as much as it hurt to walk away from Logan, you knew it was the only way to heal.

The only way to find yourself again.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

Part two

[echojedis]

Redrew my post finale drawing a while back

[oceansssblue]

Hi Sky!!!!! I saw your message!!! I'd love to help you out! How about a little Hunter and female reader drabble ;) Perhaps with the prompt 'nightmares'.

Hullo love! I seem to be in a Hunter streak lately, so we'll finish with this little drabble before switching to some other sexy clone.

Hope you like it, xx.

Sky.

"NIGHTMARES" –HUNTER/F READER

WARNINGS: MELANCHOLY, LOST OF A FAMILY MEMBER, FEELINGS, COMFORTING FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Hunter's six sense, as Omega often called it, woke him up in the middle of the night. He yawned in silence, blinking slowly; wondering at first what could have have happened to interrupt his slumber. He proped himself on his elbows and scanned the rest of the bunk room with his eyes; quickly noticing your bunk empty, bedsheets ruffled up as if you had left the room in a hassle, perhaps needing some air outside of the very manly smelling bedroom.

Hunter hummed distractedly and decided to go find your whereabouts; directing his sleepy, naked feet through the corridor towards the cockpit. He knew you came here to sit down and lose yourself to your thoughts and the stars when your mind felt too active; to try to center yourself and process your feelings and thoughts. To compartimentalise.

He came to a stop as soon as he saw you; observing you in the quiet of the night. You were, in fact, cuddled up in Tech's pilot chair; chin resting on top of your knees and eyes far away from the present reality of the Marauder. Hunter knew you were far, far away.

He resumed his steps and padded over to you; his voice finally annoucing his presence, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

"What are you thinking of this time, cyare?" he asked you, coming to a stop a meter away from you.

You turned towards him; eyes quickly scanning his comfortable thin pijamas –a set of deep blue shirt and low waist pants– and the sleepyness of his face. The lack of his red bandana was noticable –his hair falling freely and slightly tangled towards his shoulders–; giving his overall appearance a soft, safe look.

You pull up a small smile on your face, barely a tug of your lips; lingering sadness hiding from him.

"Do I have to be thinking on something specific?"

Hunter stays in silence, and then slowly makes himself a spot on the co-pilot chair next to you. His eyes are gentle and patient. Ah, there's no hiding away from Hunter.

You smile while redirecting your face towards the stars you can see through the Marauders front window and stay quiet for quite the time. Hunter doesn't say a word; nor interrupts.

"I was thinking of my sibling" you finally say, and you know he's paying attention without having to look back at him.

"Nightmares?" Is his only cautious word.

You shrug your shoulders and hum distractedly, eyes still lost on the stars in front of you.

"Yes, at first. It's what woke me up, and why I came here" you pause and quietly hum again. "It's not what I was thinking when you got here, though".

"What was that?"

You smile to the stars.

"I was imagining a conversation in my mind. Of what I think he'd have said of my intervention on our last mission, if he had saw that" You chuckle, finally turning to look back towards him.

Hunters lips turn up into a tiny nostalgic smile.

"Do you often do that? Speak with him like that, in your imagination?"

It's a private question; but you have full trust on Hunter. He's always been special to you.

"Sometimes" you confirm. "I know it might be weird, but it helps me feel him closer. Or even process his death better, even if it might look like the opposite".

Hunter gently places his hand on your shoulder. It's warm. It's him.

"I think it's sweet" he answers. "And if it makes you feel better, I see no problem with it".

You smile at him again. It's a bit less melancholic now, more sincere. More happy, eyes slightly sparkling in the darkness. More alive. Present.

"Thank you, Hunter".

He nods and slowly stands back up. He offers you a hand.

"Come on, cyare. Let's get some sleep back".

You glance one last time at the stars, breathe in and smile. You stand up, and slide your hand against his, letting him gently tug you towards the bunk room again.

He's the first to lay down in bed; helping you find a comfortable spot besides him afterwards. You both hug each other softly in bed, relishing in the safety of each others warm embrace.

Kind, polite, reserved, firm Hunter is always that for you; safe.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tara! Really short but I feel it's quite intense at the same time. A bittersweet feeling. Heavy feels but warmth and understanding, and support.

Again, hope you've liked it!

Stay tunned like always my guys, more to come!

Back to my general masterlist here:

[dragonrider9905]

Don’t Call Me Flower

Alright @techs-stitches! At long last, it is here!!!!! I finally finished the square you requested! I really hope you like it and thanks for the prompt :)

This story is a participating piece in @clonexreaderbingo.

Square: Phee

Attempt number 283: failed. 

You fumbled and mumbled over your words and the babbling turned into a short stutter. 

Luckily he didn’t seem to notice. 

Ugh.

You’ve tried starting a conversation with Tech 283 times since he arrived on Pabu, but each ended in a complete and utter failure. You were cut off, not loud enough, or your tongue would tie itself in knots. 

This isn’t saying you haven’t talked to him; you have…just never from your own initiative. Phee helped introduce you a great deal (you believed there was more to her motive here than just being friendly and inclusive like normal), one of the other Batchers or Omega brought you into the conversation, or Tech himself struck up an interesting comment. If the latter was the case, most of the time you just listened anyway and didn’t have an obligation to say much other than your appreciation of his observations. 

It’s been exactly three weeks since this ragtag group of clones arrived on your little paradise. Good thing they came when they did too. They’d become an important part of the community after the tidal wave that wreaked havoc on the island’s home and uprooted their entire lives. 

They were the breath of fresh air on a hot summer’s day which cools, but doesn’t chill. The kind that fills you with contended energy, and adventurous spirit.

And Tech, well, he’d caught your attention right away at Shep’s house; Phee invited you to join them for dinner the first night they were there. You smiled, seeing him hunched over his datapad. It was kinda funny, and cute in a way and you decided to try to pull his attention from it. You weren’t very successful. Phee was better at it than you but she worked some magic with her words then somehow always left the conversation suddenly and you and Tech would be ‘stuck’ with each other. 

Then the tidal wave hit and you, Tech, and Phee made a great team rescuing the people of Pabu.

That introduced a whole new tie you had with the clone but somehow, even though you worked well together, you were still shy when it was only the two of you, and struggled with making yourself seen or heard in a semi-intelligent way. 

Tech would come by more often than not with a new idea about improving town life (if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’d enjoyed it and wanted to talk to you. Did he seem excited when he approached you? You wanted to say so *shrugs internally*) which would segway into other ideas and conversations. The topics always varied, but whatever it was, you always enjoyed it. 

What really made you fall for Tech (or when you finally realized it or stopped denying it or admitted to labeling this nonsensical attraction that drew you to him—you haven’t decided which one to choose yet) was when you were discussing your name to the Batch. How it came up, you didn’t remember. You thought maybe Wrecker or Omega commented on how cool it sounded. It was a normal name to you, and you told them what it meant and how your parents chose it for you before they passed. Phee had mentioned she had various nicknames for you. Of course, you turned bashful as she was naming them off but couldn’t help your outburst as she concluded:

“Those are my special names for her. I don’t know what you lot will call her, but you can’t borrow mine. They’re exclusively for me to use, so you’ll just have to think of something else special for her.”

“Call me anything, but DON’T call me flower!” 

“Why?” Tech tilted his head curiously to the side at your pout and curious out of character announcement.

“Would you like to explain to them why I don’t want to be called that?”

“It’s short for wallflower. Many of the town's kids growing up would call her that.”

“Wait, what? I don’t get it? Flowers are nice.” Wrecker scratched his head, confused.

“Ah, I understand the negative connotation. Wallflower is a term defined as a person who from shyness or unpopularity remains on the sidelines of a social activity. Often, the term is given to mean someone who is unattractive as well.”

You groaned and couldn’t repress an eyeroll, regretting it minutes later. You cringed at how you must have sounded at Tech’s explanation. 

“Flowers are also fragile and weak. Often trampled without a second thought.” You finished for him, crossing your arms annoyed. “So any way you look at it, it just isn’t…” you waved your hand dismissively.  

“Yes, but flowers are also…beautiful.”

The way he looked at you just then made your heart melt, your stomach twist with too many butterflies fluttering, and a red heat filled your face. 

His eyes were perfect and shining. Not looking down at his datapad making an off comment, but rather, they focused on you and his words felt very intentional. A small smile graced his lips and something gentle blanketed his face. 

“Besides, flowers can surprise you by being rather resilient and resourceful. Never underestimate.” 

He proceeded to name many species that were eye-catching and cunning for being plants.

How could you not? 

Tell me, who could blame you for letting something blossom in your heart after that? 

Thinking back to that day always made you feel better after a blunder. As mentioned, 283 times, but you never tired of looking back. It calmed you and encouraged you to try again; maybe you’d be able to have him look at you the same way again.

Currently though, you were sitting on the deck of Shep’s boat. Leyana wanted to take everyone out on the water after a long day of rebuilding the city. She and Omega were playing about the boat, Shep was steering the ship, and everyone else sat about stirring their drinks and telling jokes, laughing and relaxing. Tech was on his datapad but also joined in with comments of his own. When Phee asked him why he didn’t just put the thing down, he claimed he could do both.

That earned an eye roll from Omega and Wrecker. You wondered what warranted that. 

“What’s got your tongue tied, Gorgeous?” Phee came up beside you, while all the others looked out over the water at the coming sunset, putting an encouraging arm around your shoulders. By the look in her eye, she already knew.

You and Phee had been attached at the hip ever since you were born. She definitely was the older sister you never had. Growing up, she was always getting you in trouble and pulling you out of it. Phee looked out for you and practically raised you. She was only a few years older but sometimes when she got protective of you, it felt like she was much older than she naturally was. Kids weren’t always kind; you got bullied and called all sorts of things but Phee never let it slide. She got put in detention a few times at school for the extent she’d look out for you. You’d wait for her on the swingset outside and walk home together, every night without fail. 

You loved her, and never minded how different the two of you were. She was everything you weren’t, and you admired that. Together, you felt like a complete circle. Where she was outgoing, adventurous, spirited, confident; you were calm, shy and nervous. You were cautious when she threw credits to the wind. You were observant, watchful and insightful, playing in the shadows, calculating, accurately foretelling, while she confidently and boldly put out her ideas. You never minded being in her shadow, until now. It felt like only she would ever see the light you had to offer. It wasn’t the same kind as hers, but that didn’t make it any less special. She made sure you knew that, but it would be nice having it come from someone else as well…

You groaned. 

“How do you do it, Phee? It all comes so naturally to you. You can flirt, be fun and express what you feel and it comes across amazingly. When I try just getting a sentence out around him I can barely string a thought into words. And it doesn’t have to be an important thought either. Just saying I like the same berry juice he does sounds stupid. Why am I like this?” 

You let your head fall forward and hit the table with a bang.

“I’m hopeless.”

“You must reeeaaaally like Tech if you’re vaguely mentioning him.”

You didn’t reply. You just let your shoulders droop and turn to face her with a scowl. Her grin was teasing but her eyes sparkled softly. 

“I think you and Brown Eyes would make an amazing couple. He could learn a few things from you. Hun, just let him see the amazing woman I know.”

Phee gave your arm an encouraging squeeze.

“And I got a few ideas that might help him!”

“Really?” 

“Of course! That one can be kind of dense. He probably likes you but doesn’t even know it. Let’s help him realize it, shall we?”

“I don’t know about that…I don’t know if he even knows I’m alive.”

“If he doesn’t, I’m going to fix that too; even if I have to smack him in the face.”

“Don’t do that!”

“Not literally, Hun, figuratively.”

“Oh, as long as it doesn’t hurt.”

Phee chuckled, “Oh I can’t promise that. I’m going to make him notice you one way or another if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Now I feel like I should be nervous. Phee, what are you planning?”

“You leave that to me. And why on earth would you be nervous; it’s me we’re talking about here!”

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Very fair.”

Your grins were missed by everyone except for a goggled pair of eyes. He didn’t know why you were smiling, but he was happy to see it. He only wished he could have been the reason.

— — — 

Phee’s first attempt at matchmaking arose the next day, and did she have an idea! Phee assigned you and Tech to work on a pier so there could be more ports on the island for fishing and boating. 

You were handy and confident working with your hands. Phee knew you’d be at ease doing something you were capable of with your eyes closed. Perhaps you could teach Tech a thing or two as well. That would boost your confidence and your conversation topics. 

And Phee was right, for the most part.

You and Tech worked in perfect synchrony—and the repairs took the entire day so by the time the work was done, it was sunset. There were absolutely no hiccups with the construction. 

“I think we’re set!” You said excitedly testing the boards you both were kneeling on, “We should be able to head in for dinner.” You spoke too soon. The nails poking out on the board just under you caught your eye. You’d have to make sure those were bent out of the way so no one would get hurt.  “Oh drats.”

“Hm, it shouldn’t be too hard to fix. We’ll only be delayed a few moments.”

Tech rolled up his sleeves. Your jaw dropped in a gawk. 

“Oh…”

Tech’s eyes snapped to yours, head tilted curiously. 

“Ohhhh…..ohhh! Look!” You tried to cover up your blunder by pulling your eyes away from his forearms and to the water, pointing down at the glowing algae. “They never glow blue. They usually are green. Do you know why?” 

You looked up at the same time Tech was bending over to look down, hitting your heads on each other. The shock of the hurt sent you both hurtling into the water. 

Gasping and spluttering, you both emerged from the water covered with the glowing sea plant. 

“Well this was an unexpected pleasure.”

At first you couldn’t tell if Tech was being sarcastic or not but then you saw him examining the algae. “Quite impressive.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Looking into the water surrounding you illuminated by the mysterious blue, you missed the enchanted look he gave you. Of course, you couldn’t read his thoughts, but if you could, you would have known that the incident made him chuckle internally and it was worth it to see you crowned in the elegant plant. It was beautiful, tangled and dripping from your hair while the orange gold of sunset threw its color on you. You rather looked like a siren, calling him to you. 

But no, instead, you could only think all you accomplished was getting Tech thoroughly soaked and even more late for dinner because of your mishap. Now you’d have a matching bruise at least. That was something, right? Maybe? Maybe not? At least he got to examine the algae, that was a win. But he probably now thought you were a klutz. 

You couldn’t know how impressed he was with your skill. 

— — —

Phee wasn’t discouraged though. Her next idea was great in the planning and execution, for the most part. You somehow found a way to bangle it up. 

She asked you to make your favorite dish so everyone could go on a picnic. There was a beautiful field on the other side of Pabu where the scenery was green and lush and the animals were frequent visitors. It would be a fun and relaxing way to end the day.

Originally, it was supposed to be Phee, Shep, Leyana, and the Batch…or at least that is what you were told, but somehow, Tech was the only one who showed up—also under the same impression. 

You immediately saw right through the scheme but said nothing, blushing a deep red and internally cringing at the fact you didn’t see this coming. In fact, this is a scheme you pulled on Phee last year. She was just reusing it. You were relieved to see Tech did not catch on and thought it was a mishap the others didn’t show up. His brothers and sister had a last minute accident resulting in them not being able to go (which of course you knew was orchestrated between Phee and the others. How could it not. You’d put money on the guess Omega was in on this too.)

“No use letting the food go to waste, right?” You tried to shrug off the awkwardness, and it worked.

Tech heartily agreed and while you ate, your shyness melted away. You found yourselves swapping stories about those who you both loved and were not present. Laughing at foolish stories and regalling in the exciting ones. 

“Phee’s really brave. I’m not so much. I’m kind of her shadow. Everything she is, I isn’t.” You winced at the weird choice of words. It’s fine. Play it cool. Everything is fine…Everything is not fine. That sounded so dumb.

“I don’t get opportunities to be brave like she does. She creates those opportunities. If they came along by chance, I’d probably miss them or go running in the opposite direction.”

Before Tech could answer, a clan of moon-yos jumped you from behind, tangling themselves and laughing. The things clung to your arms and legs while the little ones stole away the cake you made for dessert. The treasure acquired, all the little annoyances left. 

You could only sit there and stare, dumbfounded. 

How? What just happened? 

In retrospect, you knew this about moon-yos. You should have seen that coming…you were just so eager to share your favorite fruit cake with your friends you didn’t even consider the creatures had the same taste as you. You normally foresaw this kind of thing! What was wrong with you? You were too eager, that’s all. 

With a heavy sigh, you closed the basket.

“Are you alright? Their claws didn’t hurt you?” You asked him, only letting a small bit of exhaustion into your voice. 

“No, it was rather an unusual occurrence…I would be alright if it didn’t happen twice in a lifetime though.”

“For you and me both, I guess we’d better head back, yeah? Lots to do tomorrow.” Packing up hid your embarrassment well, feeling like you wanted to die inside.

Tech helped you clean up, but in your distractedness, you missed the grin on his face and the wonder in his eyes. Their attack barely phased you. You were calm, cool, collected. Many would have shrieked and panicked. Not to mention how well you handled the loss of your famous desert.

The day certainly didn’t go as planned, but when was that a bad thing?

— — — 

A few days later, after one of Tech’s famous flying lessons with Omega, the Marauder needed some light repairs. The close proximity sensors went out…again. Phee slyly and quickly suggested that you could assist with the repairs to your great horror. You didn’t know anything about mechanical stuff. On the island, everything was hand built practically. You were good with a hammer, not a spanner. 

“Relax, Tooka,” Phee chuckled, “he probably won’t let you touch anything anyway. He’s rather particular about that ship. You’ll just talk and keep him company.”

What shocked everyone was when he excitedly agreed to your help.

You were not there to just keep him company.

Furthermore, dropping jaws, Tech was showing you what he’d like you to do. 

Tech was under a desk panel inside the ship, and you were on the comms outside working on the roof, connecting the wires he told you, when he told you. Sweating buckets, you wiped your palms on your pants again. This was his ship. His pride and joy. You couldn’t mess this up. Breathing heavily, you waited for the next set of instructions. 

“Alright, now connect the red sensor wire with the port of corresponding color. Then connect the blues.”

“Consider it done!” Somehow you managed to sound more confident than you felt. But that was a simple enough task. So far his instructions were easy and clear. But when you looked down at your panel, you noticed something looked off. The orange wire looked like it was melted into the port. If you connected the red now, you were sure the whole system would short circuit again.

You knew you should have asked but you didn’t. Instead, you took a firm hold of the orange wire and pulled. 

Sparkles flew everywhere, a small explosion sound startling you. A scream escaped your mouth and you fell off the side of the ship.

Tech, hearing the snapping, was already on his way out to see if you needed anything. Good thing, as you fell almost right into his arms, the force almost knocked him over but he somehow righted himself.

“Are you alright?” 

He set you down and started to examine your hands. 

“You are fortunate, you are not burned, what happened?” 

Throat constricting, you tried to explain the situation. Tears pricked your eyes but you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of falling until you were alone. 

“Let me take a look.”

When Tech reached the top, he looked down at the panel amazed. He guessed right away you weren’t a mechanic, but he was excited to have you around and share this with you if you were willing. But, actually, if you didn’t do what you did, this would have been much worse. The tiny explosion would have been a bigger one. You had an amazing head on your shoulders and a great knack for technology. All it would take was a little training and you’d be a natural. He’d be more than happy to show you.

He was going to offer just that, but you’d disappeared before he reached the ground. Perhaps you needed space after the shock. That was logical. He’d finish this up. He’d see you at dinner and ask how you were. 

— — — 

Tech did not, in fact, see you at dinner. 

Indeed, Tech didn’t see you much after the accident. You were present the following morning when the boys and Omega went to market but after that you made yourself scarce and by the afternoon, he’d decided to seek you out. It didn’t take long to find you. You were on the ledge of the pier the two of you worked on together a few days ago. The thought made him smile.

Tech watched you hunched over on the pier, staring into the water and dangling your legs carefully over the edge. Your easy, relaxed smile he would often see on your face when you were alone or you thought no one was watching, was not present, and a feeling of worry washed over him.

Your eyebrows pressed together, hyper-focusing on something that wasn’t there. Lips were turned into a frown and mind distracted. 

That really wasn’t like you. From what he observed, you were quiet…but also observant. You watched and understood everything that was happening. You always knew your surroundings and not much got past you. Your eyes were ever watchful, a hidden light which carried a flame underneath. A mysterious flame that intrigued and fascinated him. It danced with an unshed energy which promised something great, though what was yet to be seen—your power veiled behind a mask.

There was so much to you. 

And he enjoyed every moment you let him in to discover something new.

The hidden garden of knowledge in the vastness of your mind and imagination was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. You brought up points he never even considered, and they excited him. Not many people outside his family had the ability to evoke an emotion of happiness from him.

You did.

And he found himself wanting to do the same for you. To be the reason you smiled. To be the reason you blushed and laughed. To be the reason for the clumsy mistakes out of distracted love. 

He chuckled thinking of your late encounters. They didn’t ‘end well’ according to what Phee explained at lunch (though to be honest, he didn’t understand how), but each time left him with a glowing feeling in his chest which spread to his cheeks in a blush. How could they not have ended well when each one left him feeling a glow of love and pride towards you?

You’d been down today, that he knew, but he didn’t know it was this bad. Tech thought it was merely your social anxiety he found got to you when things were loud and crowds pressed in on you. The market was hectic getting ready for that festival. He thought that was all it was.

This wasn’t that…He wanted to check in with you and make sure you were alright after that last incident but now he was unsure. Did you need some alone space? Would he only make matters worse? Then again, Omega had commented on it being nice knowing you’re cared for even if you didn’t want it at the moment.

A huge crash broke him from his musings and Tech watched you turn in horror towards the source of the sound. 

You started yelling something in a language he didn’t understand, tripping over yourself to get to the collapsing building. You didn’t stop to put your shoes on, you didn’t hesitate. You just ran.

He started running too, there could be people who needed help but there was something about your urgency that made him pause. Why….

Oh. 

Tech doubled his speed. “Hunter, we have a problem. The orphanage under reconstruction is collapsing. I fear some of the children are still inside.” 

“On it. I’ll get Wrecker. We’ll be there shortly.”

— — —

This just wasn’t a good day.

You screwed everything up. You were sure Tech wouldn’t want to speak to you again after what happened. After everything Phee had done to help you. After how far you thought you’d come, you’d always be the screw up. 

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, feet dangling over the edge of the pier. In a better mood, you’d playfully kick in the water but now, they just hung idle, lacking the energy for anything more than allowing a cooling, numbing sensation to creep up your legs. 

Perhaps you were just overthinking everything. A little bit of sleep might do you some good. You and the boys had been doing so much to repair the town, you’d gotten little rest. Your mind would go into overdrive when you were tired. Perhaps that was just the case here. No need to panic (yeah right). Some little sleep would show you you were not over with (maybe). You’d gather the courage to apologize and fix your mistake. 

You would make it up to him somehow. 

If your friendship wasn’t permanently damaged, you’d find a way to mend it. You had to. Tech had grown to mean too much to you for you to let him go so easily. 

Disaster after disaster went before your eyes and you thought them through. Analyzed where you’d gone wrong. How you’d fix it or how you would make up for the blunder. It might take a while but it’d be worth it. 

However long it took. 

You’d talk to him first. This time, you wouldn’t stutter. You’d have to practice but you were determined. You would be heard and you’d get it out right. 

Before your plans could progress further, a huge crash broke through your thoughts. You turned to see the orphanage had collapsed. Fear coursed through your veins. Some of the children were helping where they could; they prided themselves in their hard work of what they contributed. They could be trapped! When you heard shouting and screams, you knew you were right. 

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

You pulled your feet and dashed toward the construction site. 

“I’m coming! Lil, run to the village and get help! Myles, go get the physician! Tali, get Shep!”

You quickly took stock of the situation around you. One of the walls fell outward, seemingly because the upper floor was unstable and tumbled through it. 

You heard your name cried out over and over and saw little Trisy running up to you. 

“Hep! Hep! Tabby is twapped inside, please hep!” She cried and pressed herself into your leg. You held her and knelt down to her level. 

“Hey, hey Tristy, look at me.” You swiped the hair from her face. “I’ll get her, ok? Where was she? Is anyone else inside?” 

Tristy shook her head emphatically. “No, only Tabby.” She whipped her face only for the tears and mucus to be smeared over her cheeks and forehead as well. Her breath was coming in heaves. 

“I’ll get Tabby; you stay here, ok?” 

You only waited for her nod of confirmation before dashing inside the building. 

“Tabby? Tabby! Where are you?”

You carefully tip-toed your way around the fallen logs, not wanting to upset anything. 

“Tabby, please answer me!”

“I-I’m down here!”

You looked down and saw a part of the floor was broken through one more level. A pair of shiny eyes looked up at you with newly enkindled hope grappling with fear. 

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no? I fell in after i-it fell. I think my ankle hurts a little, that’s all.”

Looking around for the best possible solution, you grabbed a rope to use as a pulley. Tossing it over what looked like a stable beam, you tested its strength, pulling and tugging. When it didn’t give, you tied one end around yourself and lowered yourself down into the pit. 

When you reached the bottom, the child crawled over to you and clutched your middle. The poor thing had been crying but was trying so hard to be brave.

“It’s ok, I’m here now! I gotcha.”

Wrapping one arm around the child, you slipped the rope around her. 

“Hold on tight, ok.” 

The child nodded and you hoisted the two of you up with a huff and humph. Grunting, you tugged the rope, dragging your body and the extra wiggling weight up. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Shoulders and arms squeezing and solidifying. Lumps formed where your muscles used to be and your neck felt like it was ready to burst. You just had to reach the top!

Hand over hand. Break. Heave. Hand. Hand. Heave. Heave. Hand. Heave. Hand. Heave. Heave. Heave. 

“We’re almost there. Almost. There.”

Gasping for air, you tugged one more time. Your muscles were shaking and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. You were so close to the top but you couldn’t let go. Tabby would get hurt if you fell. You just had to reach the top…

“May I be of assistance?”

That voice. One that you did not expect but yet were so happy to hear made you laugh and tears sprung to your eyes. Looking up, you saw a pair of goggled eyes looking down at you worriedly, hand stretched out in hopes of helping

“Can you grab her?”

“She is secured against you rather well. I would not be able to maneuver her without hurting her. I’ll grab the rope and pull, just hold on.”

Tech reached for the rope and pulled the two of you up, easing you into the unstable floor around the hole. His grip was firm and gentle. If you had time, you’d marvel at it, but your head was still reeling and you gasped for breath.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t anwer. He merely nodded…and placed his hand on your cheek? Quickly withdrawing it, he warned:

“Be careful, move slowly toward the outer part of the room. You should be safe then.”

As fast of a talker as Tech was, he didn’t speak fast enough for Tabby who was already trying to hobble toward the opening in the wall. Your eyes went wide, seeing the unstable beam before anyone else. 

“Tabby, no!” You darted, scooped her up and tossed her (praying you didn’t hurt her) to the opening where you knew the floor was ok.

Breaking through and falling through the floor in the process. 

Wood ate your leg, shards of teeth scraped all the way up from where you stepped. Hot blood seeped through the scratches as you tumbled into the darkness below. You were vaguely aware of someone shouting of your name.

You hit the ground with a sickening thud and crack. 

You couldn’t breath and you couldn’t move. 

Debris fell on top of you so whatever wasn’t broken, was weighed down. 

“Just great.” You gave a little sigh when air could enter your lungs again, trying not to give up too much breath. “This is fine. Everything is great.” 

Closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing, a peace settled over you. You knew you should be scared, but you weren’t. Shouldn’t you ask for help? Shouldn’t you be trying to get out? Definitely. But you could only lay there. 

Everything hurt…but it felt so nice to just lay there and sleep…

You loved Tech but why was he shouting at you? What was he shouting?

Oh.

“Wake up! You cannot go to sleep! Wake up!”

When did he climb down? How did he get down? How long have you been laying there? Surely not long…

Wait, did he just slap you?

Your eyes fluttered open.

“Hey.”

You tried to focus on Tech, eyes scrunched with undisguised worry as they searched your face and body. 

“That wasn’t nice. Waking sleeping people isn’t nice.” you mumbled with a slight smirk.

To your surprise, he didn’t spout off a fact like you expected him to, instead he smiled a little sadly. For the first time, he seemed unsure of what to say. 

“It is, if you’re afraid they will expire in their unconsciousness.”

“Fair enough.”

Wait, he was afraid of you dying? WAIT? WERE YOU DYING?

Panic overtook you. Eyes wide, you started to gasp and move around, words failing to form. Thankfully, Tech guessed your line of thought.

“Nothing to worry about. I have already woken you. You just need to stay awake for me, alright? I’ll move the debris off, and you will be just fine.”

“Are you lying to make me feel better?”

Tech looked at you and readjusted his goggles. “Now why would I do that?”

Wanting to shrug but not being able to, you settled for a sigh and fell silent. 

You felt a piece lifted off you…he was so strong…you could get lost in the movements of him heroically saving you but then he stopped. You nearly pouted but held back.

“Please, while I work, give me assurances you are still conscious. Talk if it isn’t painful or clench and unclench your free hand. I…was worried before. You fell rather far and hit your head.”

“Ok…”

Your mind searched for topics but the only one that came to mind was the thought that gave you comfort these past few weeks. You laughed a weak huff.

“Like I said…easily crushed…very appropriate…right…about now.”  

“No,” His voice was firm, not angry but steal-like, “like I said. Beautiful, brave, resilient, resourceful.” His soft smile returned. “Seems like Phee isn’t the only brave one of the two of you. My hypothesis was correct; I just wish you didn’t test it in such drastic measures.”

Your head nodded a little, the ghost of a laugh on your lips while your eyes fluttered closed.

“Please don’t go to sleep. I can’t lose you like this.” 

Wait…he was worried he’d lose you?!?

You wanted to comment on that. You didn’t know how, so after opening and shutting your mouth a few times, you settled on something equally important. 

Not knowing what else to say, you decided now was as good as ever to apologize. He might even be more forgiving with you in this condition.

“I’m sorry…for everything, Tech.” Tears started to well in your eyes. “I messed up so much. I ruined your ship. I—”

“You’re upset because you thought you hurt me or I was angry with you?”

You nodded, letting out a little sob. You couldn’t look at him, so you clamped your eyes shut and bit your lip, the pain keeping you from falling asleep. …he said your name so gently, the lump in your throat returned.

“You didn’t at all. I am sorry you thought that. I would have talked to you sooner had I known that is what upset you so. You were so grave I thought you needed some space as when you were overwhelmed. Phee told me you thought you ruined some important moments together, but I did not equate that with the toll it took on your mind. How could I when everything you did evoked a feeling of love for you?”

You sucked air through your lips and let the tears fall. 

“You’re not teasing me are you? Because l love you. And if this isn’t real, I swear…”

But you were startled into opening your eyes anyway. 

Did you die, or was Tech actually kissing you?

Tech placed one of his hands on your cheeks, stroking it gently with his thumb. His lips moved over yours ever so softly, as if he was afraid the movement would hurt you, yet there was a firmness there which reassured you that he wasn’t timid of you or how he felt. 

“You’re my beautiful flower. Nothing will ever change that. I promise. Now let’s get you out of here. If you wilt before, that is simply unacceptable and unforgivable after this confession.”

You chuckled, “Alright. Deal. No croaking before we leave.”

“Or after.” He sighed. “That was not giving you permission to ‘croak’ after being helped to safety.”

You could only laugh. 

“I won’t plan on it. Not when I’m finally yours. And Tech, only you can call me flower.”

“I thought it would be obvious...my flower.”

[sadiecoocoo]

TBB Fanfiction: Wrecker is the Bestest Brother

Relationships - wrecker & Hunter, Wrecker & tech, Wrecker & Crosshair, Wrecker & Echo, Wrecker & Omega

Characters - wrecker, tech, hunter, echo, omega, crosshair, Lula

Tags/warnings - no warnings apply, 5+1 things, fluff and angst, platonic cuddling, brotherly affection, sibling bonding, Hunter has sensory processing issues, hurt Hunter, protective wrecker, soft wrecker, emotionally intelligent wrecker, good sibling wrecker, Crosshair has PTSD, Crosshair angst, Crosshair needs a hug, hurt Crosshair, tech is autistic, tech needs a hug, hurt tech, echo needs a hug, hurt echo, echo has ptsd, omega needs a hug, hurt omega, nightmares, other tags to be added

Summary - Wrecker is a lot more emotionally intelligent than people give him credit for. Sometimes he even notices things that his brothers don't. And most of the time, he's happy to help his brothers with anything they need.

five times Wrecker comforts his brothers and sister, five times they do the same

(Title is subject to change)

Chapters - 7/10

Current word count - 8,067

Link -

[fandom-friday]

Happy Fandom Fri-yay!

I come bearing the gift of a new fic:

Brother, my Brother by @iiidunno /nonbifandomqueen on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43422618/chapters/109159881

I know you’re a sucker (like me!) for a good Fives-Lives AU, so you are gonna love this!

No spoilers here, but The Bad Batch takes a bounty-hunting job, and it turns out to be someone they were NOT expecting.

It’s a whump-filled examination of Echo’s PTSD and history, although the rest of the batch have their moments to shine too. Very creative and a great read.

Looking forward to the next chapter and more emotional damage. ❤️

You are SO right, I'm always down for a good Fives Lives AU, and this one promises to be ANGSTY and PAINFUL (we all know what we're signing up for when it comes to the Domino Twins). GIVE US THE EMOTIONAL DAMAGE! Thanks so much for the rec!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[lifblogs]

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Mature Chapter Word Count: 3060 Summary: On their quest to find Mount Tantiss, the Bad Batch run into an unexpected adversary who is hunting Omega. During an altercation it is revealed to Hunter that he is none other than Tech, their dead brother. Primary mission: bring him home. Once they do there are excruciating challenges they did not expect. Is Tech just meant to suffer? Can they fix his body and bring his mind home too? WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore

[toska-writes]

Heyyy could you maybe write like an angsty one shot for fives x platonic reader with a happy pleaseee i love your writing so much your stories are all so we'll written thank you for all your one shots <333

This one has been in the inbox for so long there’s practically cobwebs on it

“Darken Worlds”

Summary: 2 times where you and Fives had each other to hold on to.

Paring: Fives x GN padawan!reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: ⚠️SPOILERS FOR “THE CITADEL” and THE UMBARAN ARC. Angstttttt hurt/comfort- this one is pretty sad MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DEATHS IF YOU DIDN’T SEE

Word count: 1409 (Not proof read)

Notes: there is no really happy ending in this one because it is my job to try and make you cry😈

It was hard to breath. For the first time in a long time the bucket over Fives head seemed too small.

His skin crawled as each remaining member of their squad passed. But Fives’ eyes scanned what was behind them.

Ragged breaths racked his body, he ripped the helmet from his head. It all felt wrong as his eyes tried frantically to search for a ghost.

Wait. He could still make it. His eyes were like hawks looking for any movement in the rubble and smoke from before.

He just needed a little longer. Fives knew that this couldn’t be the end.

All the other dominos have fallen, and he was unfortunately the last one standing alone.

Title waves of emotions crashed off of Fives, it shook your entire being as you looked over your shoulder to find him not coming along.

It nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs as you slowly advanced to his position. If you didn’t have the force you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was truly wrong.

Maybe that’s what scared you most for Fives.

To everyone he was watching the back of the pack, making sure nothing followed. Only now he hoped one person was.

“Fives?” Your voice caught in your throat watching as Fives’ helmet hit the ground, not acknowledging your words his back was still turned.

You knew what happened. The pained scream of Echos’ name ringed towards the back of your mind.

The pastroid armor heaved up and down in an uneven manner the longer you looked at Fives.

“Fives.” You were sterner this time walking up next to the trooper. The unraveling of his emotions were like pulling on a loose string.

Your hand reached out and rested on the shoulder plate. The string was pulled.

“Echo-“ He looked at you now, his voice was unlike anything that you’ve ever heard.

Unsure. Scared. He was unraveling.

“I know Fives.” You couldn’t help your voice from breaking. A lump rose in your throat making it harder and harder to breath.

In an instant Fives was engulfed in your arms. The larger man seemed to kneel down to your level and shove his head in the crook of your neck.

Fives’ whole body heaved as his sobs became louder and your shoulder was damp.

Tears of your own leaked down your face as you squeezed the trooper tighter. “I’ve got you Fives, it’s ok.”

His words were broken up by tears, stringing them together you got. “Echos gone- I saw him. He’s gone.”

Cradling the back of his head you could feel Fives’ grip on the back of your robes as you didn’t dare to move.

“I’m so sorry Fives.” A sob of your own was heard. “I know, I’ve got you Fives.”

You consoled many troopers before. Some, including Fives comforted you. Seeing a trooper as strong as Fives and one that you held as such an idol like this really opened your eyes to this war.

But right now Fives’ needed someone.

“Is he really gone?” The person speaking through Fives was no longer the mischievous ARC, it was that of an unguarded child. So vulnerable and ready to break.

You could only nod in response for a moment, afraid your own voice would betray you more. But soon you found your voice to say. “I don’t think Echo made it.”

An audible cry rung through your ears and your heart. You knew what it was like to be the last one standing, for better or for worse you both somehow made it this far and you couldn’t quite.

“I’ve got you Fives.”

•✩•

“They’ve got our gear and our weapons.” It was sick to you the fact that those Umbarans were dressed as the fallen just to get a jump on you.

In an instant from the thick fog horizon blaster bullets rained down as you were forced to take cover or pay the consequences.

A blaster rested at your side, your main focus being on your lightsaber until a stray shot seated your hand.

With a hiss the saber fell from your grasp while you were forced to duck out of the way yet again. The fog was so murky your senses didn’t even feel right as your eyes scanned desperately for your lightsaber.

You pushed forward without it for now, the darkness of the planet sat awkwardly in your mind making the force much more challenging to comfortably use.

Shot after shot you could barely see the enemies forces dropping, but so was your own.

“We’re experiencing high casualties.” You barely heard the words crackle over the comms. Worried you looked around towards some of your men.

You quickly located Fives and what you could make out as Tup- For a shiny the kid was alright.

Movement was seen in front of you, a shadow was running across the battlefield frantically. Your blaster was trained on it until you heard the unmistakable voice of your captain.

“Stop shooting! Those are our men stop.” You lowered your blaster slightly. You couldn’t be hearing this right.

You were fighting your own men? There’s no way-

Rex continued on as you emerged from your cover slowly following him.

“Take off your helmets, show them who you are.” His voice was desperate trying to pled with anyone who would listen.

The blaster fire died down as the captain continued his shouting. You watched Rex tackle what you once assumed the enemy to be, only now this time in his arms Rex held Cody to show the whole galaxy who they were fighting.

The breath was ripped from your lungs as all you could do was stare. You watched Rex look around at all his men before letting Cody go.

He feel to his knees with Rex close behind taking a huge breath in. They were firing at their own brothers.

They were killing their own brothers.

“No no no-“ the whispers escaped your mouth gradually becoming louder until finally you yelled. “No!”

The scream echoed throughout the planet, no doubt registering in the ears of the soldiers around.

Dread fell over you looking at all the bodies of the fallen, on both sides of the field. You don’t remember when Fives walked over to you, you could only feel as he slung an arm over your shoulder letting you collapse into his side.

Anyone who has ever know you could tell of how high up you held the clones in your heart, maybe that was why the first to get to you was Fives.

“Those were our men.” You couldn’t look up into Fives eyes, not now. “We’ve lost so many.” Your voice cracked in the last sentence.

It didn’t matter who could see, everyone felt the same it was just a matter of who would show it.

Fives looked up from where he had you cradled in his chest, all of this brothers had the same look of lost in their eyes. Rex met his own and he realized the same thing.

They were turned against their own men, and a kid watched and took part in it all.

The sobs seemed to wash over Fives as he slowly melted to the ground with you.

With a firm grip on both of your shoulders Fives held you up so he could get a good look at your face.

Red eyes met is own and it took everything in Fives not to break down with you right now. “You listen to me.” He spoke with a hard tone, only the edges seemed to reveal truly what he felt.

“It wasn’t your fault. You got that?”

It was you that had to be here, it was you Krell didn’t take in account for when he sent Anakin back to Courusant, and it was you that now had to live with it.

You shook your head slightly at his statement but a hand stoped you and wiped the river that poured from your eyes.

“I’ve got you here, it’s over now.” This time the word we’re more quiet, like Fives was telling you a secret that only you could here.

“Fives-“ you spoke softly saying his name. He was the one thing that was still here, but you feared if you moved too much the dark mist would take him away.

“I’m here with you.” Fives knew what it was like to survive, but sometimes it’s what you have to do.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

[kybercrystals94]

The Hostage

(Part 8)

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Rated: T | Words: 4741 | Summary: Plan: Four Minus One

“Yes…yes, I’m here.”

Hunter can’t breathe, his lungs turning to stone in his chest. He isn’t sure if he’s actually awake, or if this is some sort of cruel, grief induced dream. But it’s her voice, the familiar lilt of her accent entwining the frantic words tumbling through the static of the channel. 

Her voice speaks again, a desperate question, “Can you hear me?”

“Omega…” Hunter chokes out, an emotion too raw to identify in this moment fractures the precious name. He tries again, forcing a breath. “Omega, where are you?” 

“I’m alive, I’m safe,” Omega says gently, her tone comforting. “I can send you my coordinates.”

Hunter can’t seem to make his voice work again, reasonable questions and words suffocated in his utter disbelief. She’s alive…not dead…alive…alive…alive…

Echo pushes forward. “Can you send them now?” he asks, voice steady as a stone in a stream.

There is a brief pause, and Hunter’s heart aches with panic that the connection is lost. But Omega’s young voice returns, “We’re sending them now.”

The sound of an incoming message chirps beside him. Tech immediately begins transferring the sent coordinates to the navigation system, pulling up an ETA using Omega’s local time zone as reference. Hunter doesn’t like the time that calculates. 

“Who is with you?” Echo asks, keeping his focus on the call. Hunter realizes he hadn’t even processed that Omega said “we”. 

“A friend. He’s helping me.” Omega says, confident but evasive in her answer. 

It twists a sharp feeling of fear in Hunter’s gut; however, Wrecker seems undisturbed, leaning forward to crow, “We’re coming, Omega! You just sit tight!” 

“I will, Wrecker.” 

Hunter can hear the smile in her voice, see it in his memories. She’s alive. She’s waiting for them…and she’s alive. 

Tech poses the next question. “How will we locate you once we arrive?”

“I can’t go back to the spaceport…Syko is there,” Omega says, the name spoken with an uneasiness that makes Hunter’s blood burn cold under his skin. “He’s still looking for me. But I will get you a message. My friends said they would help me. I trust them.”

Hunter's voice revives, hoarse and thick. “Omega, you’re alright? You’re not injured?”

“I’m okay, Hunter. I promise…” Omega says, the words absorbing that gentle cadence all her own. She adds, regretfully, “I have to go. I’ll see you soon. My friend will find you.” 

“It will take us three rotations to arrive at your coordinates,” Tech relays the information quickly, but he adds more softly, “As you said, we will see you soon, Miss Omega.”

Omega doesn’t say anything else, the transmission ended, their connection to their resurrected sister severed with no hope of regaining it. The realization is enough to make Hunter’s knees feel weak. He stumbles back, barely managing to collapse into one of the cockpit seats instead of the floor. 

“That was really her,” Wrecker says, voice low, “Omega’s really alive!” 

“She obviously was not on board the destroyed vessel, not even in the general vicinity. This Syko she spoke of must have established the ruse in order to prevent us from attempting to locate Omega,” Tech says, moving to the pilot’s chair to begin preparations. “Unfortunately for him and exceptionally fortunate for us, Omega is far more resourceful than most would ever assume.” 

Wrecker laughs. “Yeah, she is!” 

While his two more animated brothers are distracted, Hunter leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and burying his face in his hands. Horrified guilt crashes over his floundering relief. If Omega hadn’t gotten away from this Syko, she would have been alive, wondering, and hoping for rescue while they mourned her death. 

While reason whispers reassurances, shame screams accusations. 

A hand falls on his shoulder, but Hunter doesn’t lift his head, unsure what his face might express in his vulnerability. He needs to gather up his resolve, rebuild his crumbled wall of composure. For now, he simply sits in destruction, focusing on his breathing. 

“We’re gonna get her, Hunter,” Echo says. “We’re getting our sister back.” 

Hunter nods. He doesn’t know how his brother has functioned seamlessly through the whiplash of realities. I’ve lost so many, Hunter. 

Dropping his hands, Hunter keeps his gaze on the floor. “I want to know everything we can about Syko,” he says, and his voice trembles with barely suppressed rage that froths up from the chaos of emotions inside him.

Echo’s tone matches the vehemence. “On it, Sarge.” 

They’re going to make Syko regret every decision he has ever made.  

<<>><<>><>>><<>><<>><<>>

Paa tries to ignore the girl at his side, shrouded in that ridiculous hood that Gawynn used to wear in the cold season. He has to admit that she’s a quick learner. The moment she picked up on his reluctance to converse, she shut up, content to be his little shadow as they navigate the city streets. 

It was too dangerous to bring Tiiona along for the call. Too dangerous for Tiiona, that is. He doesn’t want the woman caught up in any of this underground business. So he tells her as little as possible, refuses to come to her apartment anymore…even though he desperately misses the warmth of a familiar place that feels safe and reminiscence of happier times. Times before the Empire. Times before Gawynn left. 

“You’ll take care of Mother. Promise me.” 

He promised, but Tiiona makes it karking hard when she adopts every sorry stray she finds on the street. 

“Thank you for helping me find my brothers,” a small voice says. 

Paa looks down, brown eyes stare up. 

“I did it for Tiiona,” he mutters. “I owe her.” 

The girl – Omega – smiles. “She’s a good person.”

Paa only nods. 

Tiiona waits for them at their meeting place. As they approach, her guarded expression soothes and she smiles warmly, holding out her hand to Omega. The girl goes to her easily, takes her hand and Tiiona tucks the child under her arm, as she used to do with Gawynn and Paa when they were small. 

“Did it work? Did you contact your brothers?” Tiiona asks Omega. 

Omega nods. “Yes! They said they’ll be here in three days. Paa said that he’ll meet them at the port when they come.” 

Tiiona meets Paa’s eye, a gentle sparkle of pride that makes Paa stand a little taller under the glow of silent praise. “You see,” Tiiona says to Omega, “I told you my friend would help you.”

“You’ll have to describe them to me,” Paa tells Omega. “So I’ll know who to look for.” 

For the first time since Paa has known Omega, which, admittedly, isn’t long at all, the girl shows hesitation. She leans a little further into Tiiona’s side, first looking up at the woman, then her focus returning to Paa. “They’ll stand out. You won’t miss them…they’re…soldiers.” 

“Soldiers,” Paa echoes, frowning. He looks at Tiiona, wondering if she knew this; however, the muted look of surprise on her face is evident. 

Omega swallows. “They aren’t with the Empire, I promise. They’re…we’re…clones. We escaped.” 

“Deserters,” Paa grumbles, “Even better. Probably wanted.” 

“They’re careful,” Omega insists, desperately, pulling away from Tiiona’s protective hold and stepping toward him. “They won’t cause any trouble.” 

“It’s not only them I’m worried about,” Paa growls. “Helping you is putting us in danger. With whoever this Syko is and the Empire.”

Omega starts to say something, but Tiiona cuts her off, addressing Paa. “Omega didn’t ask for this life, Paa. Just like you didn’t ask for yours, all those years ago. Helping her is the right thing to do, no matter the risks.” 

Paa’s chest feels tight, emotion balling a fist in his throat. He tries to think of some sort of rebuttal. 

Promise me.

“No, you’re right,” Omega says to Paa, broken but understanding. “I have put you both in danger. I’m sorry…I…I didn’t have anyone else.” She turns to Tiiona, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I wish there was some way I could repay you.” 

Tiiona shakes her head. “You’re not going anywhere, Omega. I intend to see this through. It isn’t safe out here, and as long as your brothers are away, you’re under my protection. I won’t have it any other way.” 

Paa takes a long breath around the beating lump in his throat. “And Tiiona is under mine, which means you are too.”

Omega blinks at them, hands clutched around the cloak’s tie under her chin. “You’ve already done so much,” she whispers. 

“Until you’re back with your brothers, we haven’t done enough,” Paa says. It’s decided. It is what Gawynn would have said, would’ve done. Just like her mother. 

Paa won’t let them down. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The walk back to Tiiona’s apartment is quiet between the two of them, and Omega wonders if Tiiona is upset that she lied by omission. She and her brothers being clones is a rather big omission. 

Paa listened intently as Omega described everything she thought he might need to know to locate her brothers. She even described Syko to the best of her memory, knowing that he is likely still searching for her. If he was willing to fake her death and murder a fellow bounty hunter just to get to her…the price on her head must be substantial. The Kaminoans are desperate. 

“Desperate people are dangerous people,” Echo had told her once.

She didn’t doubt it. 

Her brothers might not be thrilled that Omega told all that she did to Tiiona and Paa; however, she is also desperate. She would never have been able to find her brothers without their help, and if they wanted to, they could have already returned her to Syko for a price. Omega likes to think she is a reasonable judge of character, and she trusts Tiiona, and Tiiona trusts Paa. Besides, Paa reminds her a little of her brothers, seemingly aloof, at first, but fiercely protective. She likes him, even if he doesn’t seem to like her. 

“Why doesn’t Paa come to your apartment?” Omega finally dares to ask. 

Tiiona, who guides Omega through the streets with a gentle hand on her shoulder, glances down at her distractedly. “Hmm?” 

Omega asks again, raising her voice only a little. “Why do we have to meet Paa in that alley? Why doesn’t he come to your apartment?” 

Tiiona's distracted expression becomes thoughtful, eyes lifting again to watch the streets around them as they walk. “He thinks he is protecting me.”

“He’s not?” 

“He worries who might follow him, who might try and use me to get to him,” Tiiona says. “So perhaps he is protecting me, but who is taking care of him? Being alone is not good for anyone.” 

Omega nods, understanding the pains of loneliness all too clearly. So many years on Kamino were spent alone, even when Nala Se was there. Nala Se cared for Omega in her own way, maybe even loved her; however, Kaminoans did not experience companionship in the same way the clones did, and Nala Se’s version of a nurturing relationship felt starved and empty compared to what Omega experienced with her brothers now. She hadn’t even realized how deprived she had been until her brothers. 

“Are your daughter and Paa friends?” Omega asks. 

Tiiona smiles, but it is a smile so sad that Omega regrets the question before it is even answered. “They were inseparable as children, attached at the hip, those two. I always thought…” her voice breaks and peters off to nothing. 

Omega doesn’t press, and Tiiona doesn’t continue.

They walk the rest of the way to the apartment in silence. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“When can we expect delivery?” the Kaminoan representative asks. 

Syko pretends to check his data pad, flicking through meaningless tabs. “My ship took extensive damage. It is still undergoing repairs. I do not have a solid timeline.” 

“Find another ship then,” the rep says, their smooth voice riddled with impatience, even as their expression remains ever passive. “This is unacceptable.” 

“What is unacceptable is you sending me to coordinates that landed me in the middle of a firefight,” Syko lies. “I was nearly killed, not to mention your bounty.” 

There is a hiss of staticy air as the Kaminoan sighs on the other end of the transmission. “We will allow one more rotation for repairs. After that, your payment will be reduced.” 

“You cannot afford to make threats. I still have your precious cargo. Cut my pay, and I just might start  cutting fingers off your little clone. Fair’s fair, after all.” 

Syko is delighted when the remark seems to strike a chord in the kriffing long neck, even if the visible reaction is a mere blink of bulbous eyes. “That is unnecessary. However, we expect the girl to be delivered as soon as repairs are complete.”

“Of course,” Syko sneers with a sarcastic smile. “I would never keep a loyal client waiting if I can help it, I assure you.” 

He cuts the transmission with a slam of his fist. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“Dropping out of hyperspace now,” Tech says out of habit more than necessity. His brothers are already in the cockpit, strapped in. Wrecker has been hounding him every couple minutes about their ETA, even though Tech has told him repeatedly that the incessant question won’t make them arrive any faster. 

Hunter has the goodwill to simply lean over and check the data for himself, doing it almost as often as Wrecker asks. 

Echo is the only one who has been remotely tolerable during the three day journey. 

However, Tech cannot find it in himself to be exasperated with his brothers. After all, if it were possible, he would speed up the clock with not even a nanosecond’s hesitation. Every moment they are not at their destination is another moment that the bounty hunter has an opportunity to seize their sister again. With no possible way to make contact with Omega, nor any clue as to who her mysterious messenger will be, their only intel will be what they have gleaned on Syko. 

A prolific bounty hunter, Syko is likely contracted to the Kaminoans as Bane and Fennec were. What Tech cannot figure out, no matter how many times he turns the facts over in his mind, is why Syko would bother sending them to find Kedess, make them wait an extended period of time, and then hand over the coordinates of a ruse ship to blow up to make it appear that Omega was killed. There are so many unnecessary steps involved between taking Omega initially and falsifying her death. 

Ultimately, he reassures himself when he becomes overwhelmed by the aimless idiocy, the mystery will be solved once Omega is safely in their custody. He is sure that she was attentive enough to piece together the method to Syko’s madness.

Tech has not given himself time to properly process the fact that Omega is alive versus the fact that she was – in their minds – very dead. However, there is a task before them, tangible steps to take, and problems to solve. The universe which was on end has begun to be righted. They can get Omega back. She is not lost to them forever. Not as she was before. 

The three days in hyperspace were long but not idle, and a plan is in place. 

As Tech docks the Marauder, ignoring Echo’s muttered demand to slow down, Hunter says, “Everyone remembers the plan?” 

A chorus of singular words of confirmation answer the question. 

Hunter is standing before the ship has even stabilized. “Let’s track ourselves a bounty hunter.” 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Paa slouches against the far wall of the spaceport, his factory shift having ended an hour ago. He already did a walk around, and didn’t see any ship that matched Omega’s description of what she called the Marauder. 

He does catch a glimpse of Syko, Omega’s kidnapper. It’s hard to miss him in his bright coat, the fool. If he thinks he’s gonna sneak up on anyone in that ridiculous thing, he’s got another thing coming. Not that Paa minds. Makes it easy to keep an eye on the freak. Kidnapping kids put Syko near the very top of Paa’s mental scumbag list. 

Skyo is making his way around the port, showing a holo image to anyone who will look at it. Paa has a feeling he knows exactly what the image is of. His suspicion is confirmed when Syko approaches him. The creep has a stricken look on his face, eyes wide and innocent. It takes every ounce of Paa’s self control not to roll his own eyes and sneer. 

An image of Omega glows from a puck in Syko’s hand. “Have you seen my daughter? I’ve been searching for her all over the city. I fear the worst.” The monster’s voice trembles, his eyes shining with the fake tears. 

Paa bites the inside of his cheek. Syko missed his calling in holo dramas. 

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Paa says, and he can’t stop himself from adding, “It must be hard, misplacing someone that important to you.” 

Syko’s expression flickers, confusion and maybe a hint of irritation. 

Eh. His acting could use some work. 

Both of them are distracted by an incoming ship. A modified Omicron-class attack shuttle, just as Omega described it. It is coming in far faster than it should be, receiving loud curses in several languages from bystanders. Syko’s little anxious father act evaporates like a puddle of water in a twin sun desert, a curse of his own breathed angrily. “That kriffing little brat,” he seethes. 

“What was that?” Paa asks. 

Syko looks at him, surprised, like he forgot Paa was there. But his face hardens, and he stalks away without answering. 

Paa returns to his stance against the wall. Syko knows that Omega called her brothers, and knows that her brothers are here. Given his cute little comment about the kriffing little brat, Paa doesn’t think for a second that the man plans on letting Omega leave without a fight. Somehow, he needs to warn the clones that the bounty hunter is here, is aware, is plotting. They’re soldiers, they can figure out the plan from there. Paa isn’t trained for any sort of confrontation, nor is he armed except for the small knife in his boot. But that blade only wards off cowardly muggers and petty thieves. 

A few minutes slip by before Paa sees three armored men. They aren’t wearing helmets, and their faces don’t look like the faces of the clones Paa saw in news holos from the war. They are not even the same sizes. Weren’t clones supposed to be identical? And there’s only three of them, Omega said she had four brothers. Maybe one stayed with the ship. 

From this distance, he can’t really see their facial features anyway, but one of them does have long hair, which Omega said one of her brothers had. So it probably is them, Paa’s just overthinking the whole clone thing. 

Paa is still trying to decide how to approach the clone trio when he notices Syko has reemerged from wherever he crawled away to. Whatever Paa does, he has to do it fast. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

This isn’t how Syko had wanted things to go; however, he can work this turn of events in his favor. After all, the rogue troopers are here for only one reason, and they’ll lead Syko straight to his bounty. He just needs to follow them until they retrieve his destructive, insufferable package, and then take them out. Much easier said than done; however, he’s getting desperate. It is only a matter of time before the Kaminoans demand to see evidence that he still has the kid in his possession. 

Syko returns to his ship and sheds his crimson coat, tossing it haphazardly, before snatching up his much more subdued brown coat. He stashes an extra blaster inside, along with a knife. He doesn’t have armor like these clones seem to wear like skin; however, he only needs to catch them by surprise. Again, much easier said than done. 

Taking a breath, Syko reminds himself that he is one of the top hunters in the guild for a reason. 

“C’mon,” he mutters to himself, “you’re not gonna let a few meat droids get the best of you.”

He pointedly ignores the irritating thought in the back of his mind that whispers, the little one did. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech step off the Marauder in most of their armor, sans helmets. As opposed to most situations, they want Syko to recognize them. Obviously, the bounty hunter did his own research on Clone Force 99. He will know them when he sees them. 

Just as they planned. 

Echo watches from the transparisteel window of the cockpit as his brothers make their way across the spaceport. Most eyes are on them, following their movements, mostly annoyed stares given Tech’s less than graceful landing; however, one figure stands out, a tall man wearing dull, gray attire. He stands upright when he sees the Batch moving. His head swivels, searching the port for a moment, before looking back at the Batch. 

Echo lifts his macrobinoculars, examining the man’s features. He’s not Syko, but he might be Omega’s contact. Echo only lets his gaze rest on the stranger a moment more before returning to his watch. They need to take care of the bounty hunter situation before they retrieve Omega. They are not risking her life again, not with someone as cunning and malicious as Syko nearby…and as long as Syko is breathing, he’s too close, no matter where he is in the galaxy. 

It isn’t until the Batch disappears from sight that Echo finds exactly who he’s looking for. If they hadn’t studied every blurry security holo they could get their hands on the past three rotations, Echo might have missed him. He’s pretty good. 

But the Batch is far better. 

Echo says into his comm, “You’ve got a shadow.” 

“Roger that,” Hunter replies. “You know what to do.”

“Already on it.” Echo moves to check on their other interested observer. The man is watching Syko move after the Batch. Either the bounty hunter has made a name for himself in the port, or this man knows who Syko is too. 

Either way, Echo’s gonna find out. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Paa has to remind himself several times that he’s doing this for Tiiona, for Gawynn. An awful combination of nerves and adrenaline make him feel like every part of him is shaking, but when he glances at his hands, they seem mostly steady. The blood roars in his ears, blocking out most of the sounds around him in the semi-crowded evening streets. He doesn’t know where the clones are even going, Omega told them that someone would meet them at the spaceport, not wherever the kark they were stalking off to. 

The clones are far ahead of him, he can only see them because the largest clone stands a shoulder and a head taller than anyone else around. Syko, between them, weaves in and out of view. 

A hand closes hard over Paa’s shoulder. “Don’t make a sound,” a voice hisses in his ear. 

Paa wasn’t planning on it, but he nods anyway, his hand in his coat pocket where the hilt of his short bladed knife is nestled in his palm. 

“Who sent you?” the voice asks. “Why were you following those men?”

The fourth clone. Paa releases the breath he’d been holding. “You’re one of the clone brothers,” he mutters to the hand still gripping his shoulder. 

The voice huffs. “So you are Omega’s contact.” 

“Yeah,” Paa says, shrugging off the clone’s hand. He turns around to face the man, and finds himself staring into the face of a droid. “You’re not a clone.” 

The droid reaches up and taps his head with a scomp attachment at the end of his right arm. “Disguise. Now, where’s Omega?” 

“Safe,” Paa says, “but your friends aren’t. The bounty hunter is following them. Where are they even going? Omega told you I’d find you at the spaceport.” 

“Let’s just say Syko is getting what’s coming,” the droid…clone…or whatever he is…says. 

“The others know that he’s following them?” Paa asks. 

“All part of the plan. Syko will be taken care of.”

<<>><>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

They know where they’re going, Tech having studied a recent map of the city and finding an area that is under sporadic construction and practically abandoned when funds for the project dried up. Tech speculates it is a location with a high crime rate, so the sound of a blaster bolt, if heard at all, will not be out of the ordinary. Nor will it be surprising if a body turns up. 

With Tech taking point on navigating them through the maze of streets, Hunter’s thoughts are able to wander from the task at hand. How many days did Omega roam these very streets, afraid and alone, before she found someone willing to help her make contact. Omega is resourceful, but she’s also a child, vulnerable and naive. They’ve been training her in their downtime and on jobs; however, she had her brothers to fall back on if the situation got tight. Right now, she didn’t even have a weapon to protect herself. 

He sees the feebly lit streets, dark shadows hoarded in the alleys, hiding places for any number of criminals who would eagerly take advantage of an unattended little girl. Everything is dirty, a thick layer of grime and pollution clinging to the buildings and streets. Foul smells waft from vents in the road. The vehicles are loud and sputtering, emitting nauseous fumes of their own. Hunter’s enhanced senses recoil against the exposure without his helmet to filter out the reek. Omega escaped to this…survived in this…

Hunter swallows. His heart feels sick. He let this happen. 

I’m alive, I’m safe…my friends said they would help me…I trust them…

Maker, he hopes that’s true. 

Resisting the urge to check in with Echo, Hunter realizes the streets have begun to clear out, fewer pedestrians crossing their path. It’s almost time to confront the demon that took their sister from them. 

“The dead end is the next left,” Tech says, voice quiet enough not to carry beyond the three of them. “There should be an access ladder on the right side of the alley.”

“Stick to the plan, lads,” Hunter says, fingers already twitching to reach for his blade. 

They turn left into the alley. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

When their prey makes it to the alley, he pauses at the corner, hesitating, before leaning around to look. To his evident surprise, it is empty, despite being closed in. There is only one entrance, one exit. 

Unless you look up. 

Syko suspects something and reaches into his coat, presumably for a blaster, as he steps around and into the closed space. He thinks to glance up a moment too late. 

Hunter drops first, disarming and shoving Syko up against the wall in one fluid motion. Before Syko can react, the sharp edge of a vibroblade presses against his neck. If he struggles, he will be slit. It is a simple deduction, and the man makes it in an instant, eyes going wide. 

Tech and Wrecker step up behind their brother, blasters drawn. 

“Where is she?” Hunter asks, a guttural sound that sounds more animalistic than human, raged fueled. 

Syko manages a small shake of his head, a twitch of movement. He knows there is no point of lying. Tech can see it in his eyes. “She escaped. I don’t know where she is. But you know that, she contacted you. She’s alive.” 

“But you took her from us, you made us think she was dead,” Hunter says, pressing the blade a little harder into soft, exposed skin. 

The man wheezes out a pathetic whine. “I–I didn’t take her,” he whispers, “That wasn’t me.” 

“Is that what Omega will tell us?” Tech asks, his blaster still carefully trained on Syko’s temple.

“It’s true, it’s true, please,” Skyo wails. “Please don’t kill me.” 

“But you did make us think she was dead,” Wrecker growls. “You made us believe our sister blew up on that ship.” 

Syko’s eyes slide to the left and he swallows. 

“Answer. Him,” Hunter orders, tone too even to be safe. 

Skyo begins to sob. “Yes, yes, I did. But it was only because I feared for my life.”

“You were correct to be afraid,” Tech says, and he pulls the trigger.

TBC

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Echoes of Her: Part Three

A/N: Hey y'all ! I'm back with the final part of "Echoes of Her" ♡ I seriously want to thank everyone for your comments, reblogs and interactions with this mini series. I loved being able to write this and bring these ideas to life! Again, y'all mean so much to me...so THANK YOU! Stay tuned for more soon ♡ - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Word Count: 1738 CW: Angst, love triangle, hurt with comfort (Part one) (Part Two)

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The days following your conversation with Logan were a torment you hadn’t anticipated. Each hour seemed to stretch endlessly, the pain of your unresolved feelings gnawing at you from the inside out. The mansion, once a place of comfort and familiarity, had become a labyrinth of haunting memories, each corridor a reminder of what you had lost—or perhaps never truly had.

You moved through it like a ghost, your presence almost ethereal, as if the very walls knew you were clinging to a love that had slipped through your fingers. Every corner you turned, every room you entered, was steeped in the past—a collection of fleeting glances, whispered secrets, and moments stolen from time, all of which now seemed like distant echoes of a life that no longer felt like your own. The spaces that had once been filled with the warmth of his presence now felt cold and empty, as if the mansion itself mourned the uncertainty that had settled between you and Logan. And as you wandered through this once-familiar place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped in the shadow of something you could never fully possess, lost in the remnants of a love that might have never truly been yours to begin with.

Logan kept his promise. He gave you space, but his presence was everywhere: the scent of his cigar lingering in the air, the faint echoes of his voice in the halls, the emptiness that seemed to follow you, reminding you of the distance between you. It was unbearable, the constant ache in your chest, the gnawing fear that you’d never find your way back to each other.

The nights were the worst. The quiet darkness left you alone with your thoughts, with the haunting image of Jean in Logan’s arms, with the memories of the life you’d imagined with him. Sleep eluded you, your mind racing with questions that had no answers.

And every night, without fail, you found yourself standing outside his door, your hand hovering over the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. But you never knocked. You never found the courage to face him, to ask the questions you were too afraid to know the answers to.

But tonight was different. Tonight, the silence felt suffocating, the emptiness too much to bear. Your heart ached with the need to see him, to hear his voice, to find some semblance of closure, whether it meant saying goodbye or finding a way forward together.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and knocked on the door. The sound was soft, hesitant, but in the quiet of the night, it echoed like a gunshot.

The door creaked open, and there he was, his eyes widening in surprise as they locked onto yours. He looked as worn and tired as you felt, and the sight of him made your heart twist painfully in your chest.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nodded silently, stepping aside to let you in. The room was dimly lit, the shadows dancing across the walls as you entered. It was the same room you’d left him in all those nights ago, but now it felt different. The air was charged with something unspoken, something that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

He closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to face him, your heart hammering in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your voice shaky. “About us. About everything.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes locked on yours, his expression unreadable. The tension between you was palpable, a thick, heavy thing that hung in the air, pressing down on you both.

“I’m scared, Logan,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m scared that no matter how much we try, we’re always going to end up back here. Hurting each other, tearing each other apart.”

He took a step closer, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently touch your arm. “I’m scared too,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But I’m more scared of losing you.”

Your breath hitched, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through you like a blade. “I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I don’t know how to be with you when I know… when I know she’s still a part of you.”

He winced, the pain in his eyes almost unbearable to see. “She is a part of me. Always will be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I’m tired of running from this—from us. I’m tired of living in the past.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I don’t want to be second best,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to spend my life wondering if I’m just a consolation prize.”

Logan’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped away your tears. “You’re not. You never were. I’ve been a fool, and I’ve hurt you in ways I can never make up for. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you that you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

His words hit you with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of you, your breath catching in your throat as you stared up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Only raw, unfiltered truth.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can keep loving you when it hurts this much.”

Logan’s grip on your face tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing gesture. “Then let me help you. Let me prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. That I’m choosing you.”

You hesitated, the fear still gnawing at the edges of your heart, but beneath it, there was something else—a flicker of hope, of longing, that refused to be extinguished.

“I want to believe you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I want to trust you.”

“Then do,” Logan urged, his voice rough with emotion. “Trust me. Trust us. We’ve been through hell, but we’re still standing. That’s gotta mean something.”

His words hung in the air, the truth of them settling deep in your bones. You knew he was right. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, you were still here. You were still fighting.

And maybe that was enough.

Slowly, tentatively, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s breath escaped him in a rush, relief flooding his features as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body chasing away the cold that had settled in your heart.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions—fear, hope, love—all tangled together in a messy, beautiful knot. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life apologizing,” you whispered back, your voice soft but firm. “I just want you to be here. With me. For real.”

“I’m here,” he promised, his voice rough with sincerity. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And as his lips met yours in a tender, lingering kiss, you allowed yourself to believe it—to believe in the possibility of a future where the echoes of the past no longer haunted you, where the love you shared was enough to overcome the pain.

The kiss deepened, the taste of him filling your senses, grounding you in the present, in the reality that he was here, with you, and that you were choosing each other, despite everything.

When you finally pulled away, your breath ragged, your heart pounding in your chest, you looked up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Only love, raw and unfiltered, staring back at you.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Just stay.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the last remnants of fear and doubt dissolve like mist under the warmth of his gaze. The walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, replaced by a quiet, unwavering certainty. With a gentle but deliberate motion, you reached up, your fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to his face. The rough texture of his stubbled cheek was a comforting reminder of his strength, of the man who had weathered so many storms yet still stood before you, willing to face the tempest that had raged between you both. Your thumb traced a slow, tender path along his jawline, as if trying to memorize every detail, to anchor yourself in this moment of fragile peace. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice steady, filled with a conviction that surprised even you.

As his arms wrapped around you, drawing you close, you let yourself melt into the embrace, feeling the solid warmth of him against you. The tension, the pain, the wounds that had festered between you for so long seemed to dissipate, leaving behind only the raw, undeniable truth of your connection. His arms were both a refuge and a promise, holding you in a way that spoke of comfort and commitment, of a bond that had been tested but refused to break. Despite the scars that marred your past, despite the echoes of hurt that would always linger in the shadows, you realized that you had finally found your way back to one another.

This time, there was no hesitation, no lingering doubt. You knew, with every fiber of your being, that this was where you were meant to be—in his arms, with him. The journey had been long and painful, marked by loss and longing, but it had led you to this moment, to a love that had survived the worst and emerged stronger. As you held each other close, you silently vowed that this time, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

You weren’t letting go—not now, not ever.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

Taglist: @littledebbieinabigworld @sasuke-kun0 @mrs-schoenheit @daily-evanstan @aliisa-jones @danicl25 @shortbk @hynjjine @nonamevenus @yawnetu @enashift

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker Additional Tags: tbb appreciation week 2024, The bad Batch Appreciation Week 2024, Team Bonding, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo has PTSD, TCW Era, They all take care of Echo Series: Part 3 of The Bad Batch Appreciation Week

Summary: Echo, is suffering from PTSD after his dreadful experience with the Techno Union. Thankfully, his new family is there for him during those really hard times. 
Especially during the nights.

Three times Echo is comforted by his new brothers. 

TCW ERA. A bit on the angsty side this time around.

Part of the The Bad Batch Appreciation Week series/collection

@tbb-appreciation-week​‘

[oceansssblue]

Pairing: Platonic Therapist Echo and Omega.

Theme: Hurt/Comfort

I don't have an exact sentence, but this happens after Season 3 Episode 8. Omega expresses that she endured worse on Kamino than on Tantiss. Much worse.

During a subsequent talk between Omega and Echo, Omega alludes to how dark, and horrific, her past on Kamino is.

I understand if you're unsure about doing this, but I would absolutely love it if you did.

Non romantic oneshots aren't really my thing, but this request did lit up interesting ideas in my head, so why not?

One angsty heartfelt conversation with these two sweethearts coming right up, & some comfort too!

Hope it is what you imagined!

Xx,

Sky.

"QUIET NIGHTS"

TBB REQUESTS –NON ROMANTIC ECHO&OMEGA 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: REFERENCES TO DARKNESS, LONELINESS, KAMINO&TANTISS&ECHO'S TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. TECH LIVES BECAUSE I SAY SO.

It was one of those quiet nights. Crosshair was out on a date. Tech had dissapeared with Phee hours ago; Hunter had quickly retired to his bunk after experiencing a strong migraine, and Wrecker was sound asleep too. However, Omega couldn't find her own sleep; and quickly taking a glance at his brother's room, he saw that Echo couldn't either.

Her naked toes quietly advanced in the direction of the cockpit. There he was; Echo sitting in the copilot's seat and staring distractedly through the window, out to the stars on Pabu's peacefull night. By the expression on his face, Omega knew his mind felt anything but that; Echo's frown transforming his features into something painfull. She wondered if he was having nightmares too.

"Bad memories?" She quietly asked, jumping onto the pilot seat besides him.

Echo sighed, still staring at the stars.

"Yeah" was his only quiet answer, and Omega gave him time.

She thought on her own nightmares for several minutes; trying to reorganize her thoughts.

"Are you having trouble sleeping after Tantiss?" Echo then asks, finally turning in his chair to pay her undivided attention.

Omega shrugs.

"Kinda".

Echo's features fill with sympathy.

"Must have been horrible, being trapped in there" Echo shudders, remembering his own experiences with closed spaces.

To his surprise, Omega shrugs again.

"Not really" she answers, strangely unbothered. "I mean, it's not like I wanted to be there... But I've had it much worse".

Echo stares at her, and Omega feels like she needs to explain herself. Her feet come up to rest on the edge of the seat, chin resting on top of her knees. She's unconsciously making herself small.

"Kamino. That was worse than everything".

Silence fills the room.

Echo frowns. He had had his own fair of bad experiences with the long-necks and the way he and his brothers were treated; but that being worse than being on Imperial control?

"How so?" He carefully asks.

Omega's answer breaks his heart.

"Loneliness. My days in Kamino were dark and challenging; same in Tantiss. But at least while staying in Tantiss I knew I had you, even if you weren't there. In Kamino, before I met you all..." she pauses and flinches with the memories of her past. "I didn't have that. Didn't have the knowledge that you'd be waiting for me, looking for me. That I had someone on my side. That someone cared. That I wasn't alone. In Tantiss I remembered all the happy memories I had with you all. It gave me hope. In Kamino... It was terryfying being so alone".

Omega hadn't meant to say as much; but once she had started talking, the words had flied out of her mouth. Echo's patient and listens carefully; eyes filling with understanding and left hand slowly extending towards her. When it lands on her shoulder and squeezes gently, Omega relaxes and sighs. Her big eyes turn back towards him.

"Did you..." she hesitates. "Did you feel alone when you were with the Techno Union, Echo? Or you... didn't feel anything at all?"

Echo's experience has always been a banned theme of conversation in the Marauder; but Omega asks with no malice, almost begging for someone to understand her, and Echo feels like she's revealed so much of her own feelings and thoughts he kinda owes it to her. He loves her sister so much... If sharing trauma will make her feel better and help her process her memories best, he'd tell her anything she asked for.

"I did, yeah" the tremble that breaks througj his body at remembering is inevitable. "I wasn't conscious all the time, but in the middle of the dizzyness and confussion, i remember being scared and terrified. I didn't understand what was happening most of the time. Sometimes I did. I just wanted to go back to my brothers, out of that... Thing, to be freed. To be me. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings in the world, yes."

It somehow soothes some internal part of him, speaking it out loud. Maybe this conversation will serve them both good.

Omega reaches out and mimicks his previous gesture; squeezing his shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Echo. I'm so happy I have all of you now..." her voice is soft and reverent.

Sadness dissappears from Echo's eyes. He looks at her; at how her features have morphed from a kid's to a teenager and then continued changing to a young woman. They're lucky to have her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that too, Meg" he answers, quietly, gently.

He gives her a small smile, and stands up offering his hand to her.

"How about we both try to nap together, troublemaker?"

Omega smiles. It feels him with warmth.

"Alright" she agrees, slipping her hand onto his and walking with him in the direction of the bunk room. "A pair of hours is better than none. Cross won't be happy we invade his bed for the night, though".

Echo snorts.

"The motherfucker still complains about his perfectly comfortable bed when he's well aware I still sleep in a hammock" he mutters, then grins at her. "He'll be alright".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Pretty short but I didn't feel the need to expand it longer. Feelings everyonee. Hope you liked it!

Xx,

Sky.

PS. cryptic pregnancy w Hunter coming up next!

Back to my main masterlist here:

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Every Night - Echo

This can technically act as a standalone, but this is actually a fanfiction for my fanction requested by @shersten-the-golden and doubly requested by @actuallybarb. Meaning: this is not canon in my fanon; however, this is some delicious Echo angst and even more delicious fluff. So. Enjoy.

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

This can be read anytime after Panic but was written after Hunter Fever Pt 2.

Warnings: Body dysphmorphia from prosthetic limbs, angst, procrastination, kissing with vague reference to more if yuh wanna read it like that.

WC: 2,626

If asked, I couldn’t say what it was that woke me. The unhurried cadence of Wrecker’s unabashed snoring had long since become an ambience as familiar as the sound of my own heartbeat, and whatever noises echoed beyond the Marauder’s walls were quieted to the point of utter disregard as we slept within the comfort of our durasteel home. Tomorrow, we’d move out in search of whatever target had the misfortune of catching our superior’s attention, but, for just that night, we were free of worry and obligation.

Still, I couldn’t sleep. Resigned to searching out some reason for my restlessness, I crept from the medbay, bare feet revolting against chill of the metal floors as I tread silently through the bunkroom. All but Echo lay in blissful states of sleep atop their cots. Glancing briefly at my chrono, I felt myself frown: Echo should have woken Wrecker nearly an hour ago to take watch…

Moving with greater purpose, I made my way through the halls of the Marauder, pausing just long enough to slip into boots as the ramp lowered before treading out into the chill of the night. The apparent desert of this planet made the biting cold in the air all the more poignant, and I quickly found myself wrapping my arms about my chest as I began searching, certain the temperature was all the more troublesome for Echo. Rusty boulders the size of walkers obscured much of the endless seas of rock and sand stretching endless around us offering just as precious cover to us as it did to any potential threats, but, unless something had gone terribly wrong, I harbored no doubt that he would be nearby.

My hunt lasted mere minutes before spotting a flash of crimson and grey atop one of the nearby stones. He sat gazing blindly toward the distant horizon where the pale blue moon was just beginning to vanish, one leg hiked up to his chest while the other lounged lazily over the uneven rock. Something quieted me in that split second before calling out to him, some wisp of understanding my conscious mind hadn’t yet understood, but then I noticed the way his hand gripped mercilessly around his knee, fingers straining against the metal joint. I saw how faintly his breath shook despite the carefully regulated rhythm.

He was crying.

I lingered for barely a second longer in that glimmer of indecision before starting toward him. Still, it wasn’t until I pulled myself over the ridge of stone that he noticed me, body tensing violently beneath a sharp gasp before turning quickly away as though there was some hope of hiding the lines of tears streaking his face. I offered no sign of even noticing his reaction as I settled down beside him, knees tucked to my chest to watch the moonset despite the nervous glances he kept sending toward me.

“I still can’t touch the scars.” There was no sorrow in my softly spoken words; no precursor to the truth I was so loathed to admit to anyone else. “If I let myself think about it – that it’s all metal and wires in there instead of bone, I can barely walk on it.” I didn’t need to look at him to feel the understanding slowly sink in; to see him quiet in the wake of my admission.

“When that EMP went off, and it went dead… I was so… so mad.” I told him with a scoff. “I was mad that I had to rely on this thing that had failed me where my body wouldn’t have. I was mad that I fell so quickly into that panic… I was too busy being mad and scared, that I never gave myself time to be grateful that, even though it isn’t perfect, it’s better than having nothing there at all… To be honest, I’m still pretty bad at that last part.” Only then did I turn to look at him, searching for him only out of the corner of my eyes in case he shied away from my gaze, but he wasn’t looking at me.

Attention locked on the artificial joint still trapped in his hold, he wilted before me, tension abandoning him into something too near despair for my heart to even bare witness to without twisting.

“I just…” The air stilled in my lungs at that first attempt to speak, at the way his voice caught on faltered breath, forcing him to pause before trying again. “I woke up like this… I didn’t… And there wasn’t time to even understand what… what happened.” I wasn’t there for his rescue, but I knew bits – I knew of the state he was found in and of the battles he faced immediately after… It took me nearly a month to learn to walk. He had to fight for his life without being granted even a moment to begin to come to terms with his new body.

Without a word, I reached out and rested my hand atop his, touch barely there until he hesitantly uncurled his fingers, amber eyes studying his own movements as he slowly allowed himself to return that touch, and then he was clinging to me, grip strong enough to make the joints ache, but I merely offered him a small smile. Brows drawn sharply together, teeth ground, he let his chin fall to his chest as his shoulders bucked slightly.

“I know I should be… I can still function, so I know it shouldn’t…” His lips wrenched into a scowl against the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“Echo,” I barely breathed his name, shifting nearer to him until my thigh brushed his hip. “There’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ with this.” He turned slightly away from me, but I could see the rage in him, the desperate sorrow and regret. “You have a right to be angry; to be sad… It’s okay to feel those things.” I reached my other hand toward him, gently whispering up his jaw, his cheek in a silent plea to face me; to believe me, but he wasn’t quite ready yet, so I merely waited, thumb brushing along skin that was so pale for so long but was finally regaining that stunning gold.

His other arm started to raise, as though moving to reach toward that touch, but then he stopped, eyes shifting only briefly to the scomp before closing with a deep, shaky sigh.

“I’m… There’s barely anything left of me to feel…” I could hear how the words wanted to lash out, how they longed to veil that sorrow in an anger that wouldn’t come, that he’d never allow himself to direct towards me, and that simple realization threatened to ruin me. My fingers shifted more firmly against him as I leaned forward to try to face him.

“I feel you, Echo.” My gentle smile sang through the quiet words, just managing to draw his attention back to me for a moment before his brows drew together, gaze dropping to glare into the stone beneath us.

“Don’t do that.” The heartbreak in his voice felt like a dagger tearing through my chest. I froze, struck by the sudden chill radiating from him.

“Do what?” I heard the question fall from my lips, bathed in a confusion I felt lost in, studying him with the entirety of my being for some clue as to what I’d done, some hint as to how I might help him.

“Act like nothing’s wrong with me, like all this metal and wire isn’t…” His jaw snapped shut around the words, body tensing more with each passing second.

“Isn’t what, Echo?” I pressed. That earlier softness was gone. I wasn’t asking him to answer me; I was demanding that he answer it for himself, but he kept that glare trained pointedly away from me, cheeks taut from how he ground his teeth. “No – hey; don’t do that. Dammit, look at me.” I couldn’t tell if I was begging or ordering, but the desperation was clear, hand pulling more firmly against his jaw. With a resigned, impatient sigh, he reluctantly yielded beneath my touch, weary eyes dragging up to meet mine.

“Do you really think it bothers me?” I asked, torn between horror and insult, freeing my hand from his that I might bring it up to cup the other side of his face as well. “I want you to look me in the eyes, Echo, and tell me: do you really think I care about that – do you really think I see you any differently because of it?” Beneath the faintest hint of anger in my words, all I could hear was my plea for him to deny it, to offer some reassurance that he knew me better than that…

He clung to his empty impatience for mere seconds, breath just catching in the beginnings of a retort he wouldn’t let himself say.

But then that feigned disinterest began to crumble, and the devastation and sorrow and pain broke through. His head hung limp in my touch, eyes shutting against the tears he had no hope of holding back, and I immediately drew him against me, pushing myself onto a knee to reach him.

“I didn’t know you before,” My lips dragged atop the cool skin of his forehead, “but Echo, I don’t need to… I know you now.” I cherished the prickle of facial hair beneath my palms as my thumbs delicately swept away each drop that slid down cheeks no longer gaunt with famine. His hand hesitantly released that death grip on his knee and slid around my side, my back, movement tentative, almost shy, as though certain I’d balk at the contact at any second, but I merely dropped my forehead to rest against his.

“You’re brave, Echo,” I continued, murmuring praise into what sliver of air lay between us. “You’re loyal, and you’re smart, and you care so damn much…” I let my touch slip back just enough for my fingertips to brush against his headpiece, “This… doesn’t change any of that…” His arm trembled as he clung to me, chest bucking beneath tense breaths as he fought for some glimmer of control. “It doesn’t change how deeply I trust you… how much I enjoy your company…” He pulled back just enough to glance up at me, and I broke beneath the desperate need screaming from those stunning eyes.

“You may be different,” His gaze refused to leave mine for even a moment, as though my every word held a secret too precious to risk missing, “but that doesn’t mean ‘bad’… that doesn’t mean ‘less’… especially to me.”

I barely noticed him move, but my entire body lit at his touch, unable to silence the tiny gasp. There was no hunger driving him toward me, no eager want spurred into action by a burning lust. He kissed me with a gentle devotion, worshiping me with every tender, subtle shift of soft, plush lips. He kissed me with such care, I forgot the dangers of war around us; I forgot the labels of medic and soldier. I forgot about the biting cold of the night and the threat of the mission looming with the inevitable rise of this planet’s golden sun. Shamelessly, I forgot about the very existence of reality outside the consuming love in that kiss, and, shamelessly, I kissed him back.

The instant I returned that quiet caress, a nearly silent sob escaped him, and I could have moaned as his hand trailed up my spine, palm cradling my neck for mere seconds before letting his fingers tangle into my hair, hold just enough to beg me not to pull away… not yet. The world could have erupted into fire, and I wouldn’t have been able to tear myself from him, chest trembling with fleeting gasps beneath the violent need burning through me.

The stiff bar of his scomp stretched across my lower back, and I eagerly yielded beneath the gentle pressure, twisting further into him as he held my chest flush against his, hands ceaselessly dragging him toward me. Time didn’t matter as I finally tasted him, welcoming the fleeting dance of his tongue with a growing frenzy, and I couldn’t silence the tiny whimper as the nerves sweeping down my spine flared to life in a burst of static and heat.

With a gasp, he pulled back, wide eyes staring at me with some crippling cocktail of shock and fear and guilt. Frowning, I strained to regain even the beginnings of thought with which I might quiet that frightful doubt.

“Kriff, I… I’m s”

“Don’t.” That single word fled in a tiny huff, mind finally regaining the capability of at least enough logic to speak, driven by the desperate need to rid him of every whisper of fear. “Don’t you dare…” I was panting, fingers still dancing softly against his jaw, body still pressed to his. “Don’t apologize… not unless you regret it.” He looked trapped, terrified to respond even as the faintest whisper of hope lit in that stunning amber. I felt my jaw shift, but whatever words vied for speech fell silent beneath my silent plea for him to kiss me again.

He lingered in the briefest echoes of uncertainty, but, when my lips sought his, when I stole that final stretch of meaningless distance for only the faintest of touches… when I pulled back too soon, every fiber of my being begging him to follow me, that final shred of reservation caved. I didn’t try to fight the breathy moan of relief that left me in a deep sigh, body melting into him.

I could feel his smile, could feel the tension flee him even as his chest swelled with glee. Still, his every touch was impossibly gentle, reverent, and my heart surged at the depth of safety I felt in his embrace, at the love pouring through him with every lingering press of his lips to mine, with the tender sweep of his thumb along the back of my neck. I wanted to live in that moment for the rest of time, relishing the gradual shift into almost lazy, unhurried touches as we merely allowed ourselves the freedom to explore this, to explore each other safe within the knowledge that there was nowhere else either would rather be.

When he finally pulled back, there was no fear or doubt or regret in those golden eyes, and I couldn’t help but light at the simple joy I found there instead.

“I should skip watch-change more often.” He murmured, and I could feel the huffs of laughter in his words. Beaming, I couldn’t help but mimic that glee, shoulders shaking beneath a soft chuckle.

“Yeah? You going to make me come hunt you down like this every night?” I asked, brow hitching, and his smile only grew.

“Depends… would you come looking for me that often?” He teased back. I nearly rolled my eyes at him, but caught myself, struck by the overwhelming warmth fluttering about my chest.

“Yes.” I murmured, leaning in for another fleeting taste of those lips. “Every night.” The quiet that stole over him was more precious than any treasure coveted by man, more profound than any combination of pretty words strung together by poet or philosopher. In that gentle silence, I kissed him again, grateful for every second the darkness of night lingered, delaying the coming morning when I’d finally need to drag myself from his touch, when we’d be forced to remember the awaiting mission and unending war. For however many minutes and hours remained veiled beneath the breathtaking dance of distant stars, we existed only in the comfort and safety and desire of each other’s touch.

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[fandom-friday]

SO I've been hosting a fic fair since July 10th while you were away and man do I have some recs for the fandom. Here's six that I got sent in that were so good. ( copied right off one of my posts listing them) I've made sure to mark which ones are NSFW The Revenant - Sev x ofc - by @mikaiyawa (Ao3 link)

He's Not Heavy, He's my Brother - Bad Batch Fic - by @therisingdarkness (Ao3 Link)

The Hardest Word - Bad Batch Fic - by @therisingdarkness (Ao3 link)

Unbreakable Bonds - Obiwan x OC (eventually NSFW) - by @thegreatwicked

Memories of Chocolate Laced Kisses - Obiwan x OC Nsfw - by @thegreatwicked

Lover, Fighter - Obiwan x reader - by @thegreatwicked

That is such a neat idea, and this is such a great list! Thanks so much for taking the time to put the fic fair together, and thanks for sending all of these in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[wild-karrde]

Guarded - Part 2

Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: HI HELLO HOWDY. I know it's been a minute, but I'm STILL WORKING ON THIS REWRITE! And HERE IS THE NEXT PART! Just a reminder that if you get antsy, you can still read the rest of this fic (I'm leaving all the chapters on the master list). I'll just be updating them as I go, and the "Next Part" of the new chapters won't link to an old one so you can see where I am with the update. As always, thank you to the stupendous @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me!

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: language

Word Count: 4.4k words

Captain Typho led the squad of clones down the elaborate hallways, their boot heels clicking on the flawless marble flooring. Stained glass windows tinted the sunlight shining in, casting various shades of reds and purples across them as they walked in silence.

Crosshair took in the environment around him silently, his eyes scanning every inch of the palace they walked thorugh. It was breathtaking, particularly after he’d spent most of his life on Kamino, then starship after starship, and then of course the Imperial prison that he’d been placed in after attempting to return to the Empire. He shuddered slightly at the memory of the cool, dark cell that he’d been locked in. The single member of his Imperial squad that had escaped from Tipoca City had sealed his fate in the Empire’s eyes. 

Traitor. 

Rampart’s words echoed in his mind. He remembered hanging his head, studying his boots as the realization of his fate sunk in. 

A traitor, but to who?

He was grateful that his brothers had rescued him from the prison, but he was also angry with them, angry that they didn’t come for him sooner, angry that they’d abandoned him in the first place. It seemed like anger was almost all he could feel anymore, but most of it was directed internally.

How much of it was the chip, and how much of it was me?

The Empire had told him his chip was removed from the start, claiming that they’d removed it to test his loyalty as a soldier rather than enhancing it, strengthening it so that he would be helpless to resist it. He’d never questioned that, even as he shot Wrecker while his brothers had tried to escape. He had planned on killing them all, drawing them out one by one, and not for a second did he question this sudden change in loyalty. 

Good soldiers follow orders. Kill the traitors. 

The enhancements to the chip had been so thorough that nothing in his mind had noted the difference. He’d heard Wrecker talk about trying to fight the chip when his own had activated, but Crosshair hadn’t even known to try. He fought back in some ways, but he always thought it was an internal struggle, his “severe and unyielding” nature, as Tech had put it pushing back against something else.

He hadn’t realized that the chip had been damaged by the Venator’s engines, hadn’t known that he’d been able to resist it after that. He just assumed he still had control, unable to differentiate where his own will ended and the chip’s programming began. He hadn’t even noticed the difference in how he viewed his brothers, how he no longer wanted to just kill them or the sudden remorse he felt for shooting Wrecker. He’d always just assumed it was him being conflicted and changing as the Empire evolved.

The most painful thing for Crosshair was that while he hadn’t noticed the abrupt change within himself, neither had his brothers, the ones that knew him best. Of course they’d initially suspected the chip, but when he told them that the chip had been removed, as he believed it had, they didn’t question it. They just believed him, believed that he was capable of the things that he’d done, and that was what tortured him at night as his brothers snored around him. 

They thought I was a monster.

His chip had continued to degrade in the prison, and the headaches became more frequent. By the time Tech and Hunter had burst through his cell door, he’d been curled in a corner, rocking back and forth in agony as his brain felt like it was throwing itself against the inside of his skull. Tech had scanned him as soon as they’d gotten back to the Marauder, finding the bright abnormality in his brain immediately. The look of guilt that they all shared when they saw it crushed him as he realized what they’d thought of him. Now, his fingers absently drifted to graze the uneven scarring pattern on the right side of his head as he rehashed the memories.

Of course I was loyal to the Empire. I had nowhere else to go. And then, when they gave up on me, I had nothing. I still might have nothing, just the illusion of their trust. 

Now, it was as if he was a complete stranger to them, no one knowing the way forward after what they’d endured. Hunter had tried to fall back into their normal routine, almost as if he refused to acknowledge Crosshair being gone in the first place, but it just made the disconnect even more apparent. Wrecker was borderline clingy, constantly trying to joke him out of his foul moods and playfully shoving him to try and regain some sort of normalcy.  Echo very clearly had no idea how to be around him, and Tech was, well…Tech, going about his business as normal, but with the occasional guilty look when he thought Crosshair wasn’t looking. Crosshair suspected he felt the most remorse for not putting the pieces together sooner. 

Omega had oddly been the most tolerable. He hadn’t forgotten what she said as they escaped Tipoca City, and neither had she. She’d been quiet in her attempt to reintegrate him into the team, never really pushing him. The first day back, he’d been sitting quietly in the back of the ship, chewing on one of his fingernails to try and calm his nerves as his eyes darted around the space he’d once called home. Omega had approached quietly, offering him a toothpick from his pack that they’d kept aboard the Marauder. He’d snarled at her as he took it, but immediately popped it between his teeth, chewing it as he mulled over what his future would hold. 

But she stayed. 

After that, she’d sometimes just sit by him quietly tinkering on something or reading on her datapad while he cleaned his rifle, never attempting an unnecessary conversation, but just existing near him in a way that the others seemed incapable of. She’d occasionally ask questions about his weapon, and he’d reflexively be annoyed, but it never seemed to deter her, and after a while, he gave in, describing the modifications he’d made and how the weapon worked. He’d noted Hunter watching them at times, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, which just annoyed Crosshair more. 

He would never admit it, but he missed the kid, even if she was safer in the place she was now. They’d left her at the fledgling rebel base on Yavin 4 to continue her medical training beyond what she’d already learned on Kamino. She was eager to help the rebellion in any way she could, and Crosshair found that admirable, especially in one still so young.

The sniper was snapped out of his own thoughts as he ran into Wrecker’s back. He was immediately annoyed he’d let his thoughts get the better of him and even more annoyed when he noted Wrecker’s wide-eyed wonder. The large clone had stopped to stare up at the stained glass window that they’d just walked past. A woman with dark hair in a long red gown was depicted. The gown appeared to be fur-lined with massive amber gems accenting the hem. A golden headpiece framed her face as her long hair hung down her back. Her expression appeared solemn and, in Crosshair’s opinion, someone grief-stricken. At least as much as a stained-glass depiction could be.

“Is that-” 

“Former Queen Padmé Amidala,” Tech stated. “After serving both of her terms, she served as a senator for Naboo, who died-“

“Serving her people,” Typho interrupted him. The captain’s face was stony, but Crosshair didn’t miss the clench of his fist at his side nor the sadness in his eyes.

“I apologize. You were in her service at the time of her death, correct?” Tech asked.

“I was.”

Hunter stepped forward. “I’m sorry. We never had the privilege of meeting the Senator, but by all accounts, she was kind and fought the good fight. Moreso than a lot of her political counterparts.”

Typho nodded, gazing at the window for another moment before turning wordlessly on his heel to continue down the hall. 

Crosshair knew that look. It was one of a man that felt he had failed, one of guilt that he carried like a brand on his soul. It was a feeling Crosshair was all too familiar with.

They turned down a few more corridors before arriving in a hall that split off into multiple dormitories and suites.

“The queen’s suite is this door here,” Typho said, indicating a large carved wooden door to their left. The door was ornate and seemed mostly decorative, but Crosshair noted the blast door slats that were hidden along the edges of the frame, likely intended to seal in the event of a palace breach. The keypad to the right of the door seemed to be a straightforward biometric interface, one that could likely be overridden by a select few such as the captain in an emergency. 

“Will we be allowed to inspect it for security purposes?” Echo asked, interrupting Crosshair’s observations.

“You may once we get you situated. We had an…incident a few rotations ago, which is the reason why you’re here.” Crosshair noted the captain’s eyes darting towards the keypad as he nervously flexed his fingers at his side. 

He must have had to try out those emergency overrides the other night then. 

Typho continued down the hall to the next door down. “This is the handmaidens’ dormitory. And this,” he said, backtracking to the door closest to the main hallway, “is where you’ll be staying. We’ll give you the codes to get in and out.” Reaching down, he punched a four digit code that Crosshair immediately memorized. Glancing over, he could see Tech noting it in his datapad as well. 

The clones followed Typho into the common area of the suite, which had a set of couches gathered around a low table. There were several bedrooms branching off the main gathering area, and Crosshair rolled his eyes as Wrecker raced into the first bedroom. 

“It’s got its own ‘fresher and everything!” he exclaimed gleefully, poking his head back out of the door with a wide grin.

“Two beds per room, so I’m afraid you’ll have to share,” Typho said apologetically.

Hunter chuckled. “After spending so much time tripping over each other on our ship, that won’t be an issue, Captain. We appreciate the hospitality.”

The captain nodded. “These uniforms are what you shall wear around the palace while you are protecting the Queen.” He gestured at a table where the uniforms had been laid out by the palace staff. Crosshair did his best to not immediately wrinkle his nose at the yellow fabric and brown, seemingly leather armor. 

Those chest plates wouldn’t stop a stiff breeze. And they look like they weigh a ton.  

Wrecker appeared to be far more enthusiastic about their new wardrobe, immediately reaching for the largest helmet, and letting out a whoop when it slid easily onto his head. 

Typho smirked. “We’ve had larger guards in the past, although ones your size are few and far between. However, I’ve been assured that this uniform should fit you, Wrecker.”

“Thanks!” the large clone exclaimed.

The captain glanced around one more time at each of them before turning to Hunter. “I’ll leave you to settle in and get changed. I have other duties I must attend to. I’ll stop back by in a while to brief you further. Until then, I must ask that you not leave this suite unless escorted. There’s a signal pad by the door to summon an aide should you require anything further.” 

Hunter nodded in acknowledgement, and with that, the captain slipped his helmet back on and departed with only the hiss of their door marking his exit.

“Well, this all seems…weird,” Echo said, picking up one of the Naboo armor pieces to inspect it.

“How so?” asked Hunter, neatly stacking his clone armor in one corner before pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Well for starters, the queen’s older than I expected,” Echo noted, setting aside the new armor to start working at the latches on his own chest plate. “I thought all Naboo queens were teenagers. Senator Amidala was only fourteen when she took the job if I remember correctly.”

Tech already had the yellow tunic on and was cinching the provided belt around his waist. “You would be correct, Echo. Typically, the Naboo elect significantly younger queens. However, there have been some exceptions, such as Queen Réillata, who succeeded Senator Amidala. I believe Queen Nodala is actually the oldest monarch elected. She ran on a very anti-occupation platform, stating that she wished to protect Naboo’s sovereignty, which aligned with popular sentiments. Her opponent was much more lenient towards the Imperials. Nodala’s election actually was taken as quite the rebuke of the Empire, which has likely contributed to her ongoing troubles with them.”

“Sure, fine. But why are we here then? They’ve got a whole Palace Guard. What could we be needed for?” Echo muttered, finally managing to get his armor undone. It took him more time to get out of his kit with one hand, but he’d adjusted remarkably in the time since he’d joined their squad, and they all knew better than to offer to help him. 

“I can answer that,” came a voice from behind them. They all turned to find the lieutenant from the throne room standing in the doorway. 

Iden, Crosshair noted mentally. Short. Confident. Observant. 

He’d noticed how her eyes hadn’t stopped scanning them since she’d first been introduced to them, and even now, she appeared to be mentally taking notes as she glanced around the room. He tried not to glare when her eyes passed over him, one eyebrow raising slightly in appraisal before she turned to address Hunter. 

Bit of a bitch, but maybe that comes with the territory of being short in stature and having an authority position. 

“Glad to see your uniforms fit,” she said with a grin, extending a gloved hand to Hunter. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Lieutenant Iden Vena, chief of the Palace Guard and head of security under Captain Typho.”

Hunter clasped her arm, and the rest of them nodded their acknowledgements, introducing themselves one by one. 

“So, what is it you need us for?” Hunter asked. “So far, we’ve been given almost no information.”

“You are required because you can operate outside the bounds of the Naboo guard, even if you’ll be dressed like them,” Iden replied, eyes still roving over the group. “Many of our officers are volunteers, and even though they receive excellent training, it’s become increasingly apparent recently that additional help is needed if we are to protect the queen.”

Hunter nodded. “Captain Typho mentioned a recent incident.”

Iden’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Did he now?” 

Crosshair watched as her jaw twitched. 

This was personal to her, he thought. Somehow, she feels the failure is hers. And she really doesn’t like feeling like a failure. 

Iden took a deep breath, clearly weighing how much to tell them without her commanding officer present. Finally, she sighed, meeting Hunter’s eyes. “There was a lapse in our security. We have not completed the investigation yet, but it appears the rotation schedule was tampered with, although we have yet to identify how. Either way, an assassin was able to breach our external perimeter, scale the outer walls, and make it into the queen’s private quarters through a window.”

“Well, they clearly didn’t succeed, so at least your security held up where it counted,” Echo attempted to counter, but Iden shook her head, seeming to cringe.

“Actually, the queen was the one who shot him. We arrived moments later. He died before we could interrogate him.”

Echo and Wrecker’s mouths fell open slightly and Hunter and Tech exchanged a look. Even Crosshair felt his eyebrow raise in surprise. 

The queen can handle herself apparently.

“There have been other attempts on the queen’s life of course,” Iden continued quickly. “That comes with being the leader of a planet, but they’ve become more frequent and more well-planned. This was the closest they’ve come, and we fear there will be more, which is why we’ve brought you in.”

“Who would want to do this?” Hunter asked.

Iden gave him a hard look. “We have our suspicions, but we are still investigating who could be responsible. As for motive, all I can say is that it is a resources dispute.”

Crosshair’s teeth clamped down on his toothpick in annoyance. 

She’s lying.

“Not telling us what’s going on makes our job harder. You’ve got to know that,” Echo grumbled, echoing Crosshair’s own thoughts.

“I understand, but that is all I am able to tell you at this time,” Iden replied curtly, glowering at Echo.

Definitely a bit of a bitch.

The tension grew as the silence stretched out until Tech stepped forward, datapad in hand. “We were told we would be able to inspect the queen’s quarters. I’d like to get an idea of what your surveillance system looks like.”

Iden shot him a glare as well, but Tech didn’t appear to notice as he continued punching buttons on his datapad. Echo tried a more gentle tack. 

“It’ll give us a better idea of how we can help you.” 

The lieutenant narrowed her eyes, giving Echo a once over before finally nodding. 

“Very well. This way please.”

Iden led them back down the hall and through the large wooden door. She used a code to enter, which Crosshair found interesting. 

They must only use the biometrics for emergency entry. That makes sense. Probably on a separate circuit as well. Harder to fake those than an access code.

He did find himself annoyed that Iden cast a glance back over her shoulder before she managed to block his view of the keypad completely. It made sense from a security perspective, but it only seemed to drive home the point that they were outsiders, others brought in to help while not being given the full weight of the Naboo Guard’s trust. 

Fine then.

The room itself was simple enough with a line of windows that looked out over the private gardens on the palace grounds, a few decorative paintings and tapestries, and a large bed tucked against one wall with matching nightstands flanking it. There was a small hallway that led back towards a connected private refresher with a massive closet tucked next to it, and at the end of the hall was a small private office that the queen presumably used when it was more convenient than working at the desk in the throne room.

Tech and Echo spoke with Iden in hushed voices, going over the layout of the security system while Hunter and Wrecker inspected the various rooms. Crosshair leaned against the window, peering out at the grounds below. Remembering Iden’s description of how the attacker got into the room, he walked along the line of windows, trying to find the entry point of the assailant. At the place where the windows met the exterior wall of the room, he found where he believed the man must have climbed up. The windows ended near a decorative stone column that protruded off the building, framing the edge of an arch that extended over the windows. There was just enough of a ledge where someone could have a finger hold that would allow them to haul themselves up and through the window. As the sniper’s eyes scanned the architecture, he noted a small indentation driven into the stone. 

They had climbing gear. They planned this well in advance and knew what they were doing. 

Leaning up against the window, he looked down. It was about a fifteen story drop to the gardens below. There was a line of trees that probably would have kept the assassin concealed from view for the first few meters, but they still would have been completely exposed for a majority of the climb.

They must have scaled the wall quickly in order to not be seen by the incoming guards. Or the guards were too stupid to note someone on the side of the building. 

He pressed his fingertips against the windows, glancing at the mechanisms that allowed them to open. 

Locked from the inside, thick glass, wouldn’t have been able to shoot it out with a single blaster bolt, and they knew it.  

“How did the assassin get through the window?” he asked, and the room went silent. He felt irritation twist his gut, but shrugged it off as his brothers and Iden all turned and stared at him. He’d rarely spoken to them unprompted since his return, so hearing him ask a question was understandably somewhat of a surprise. That didn’t stop him from being annoyed by their reactions. 

They want normalcy, but when I speak, they act like I’ve grown a second head. 

He clenched his teeth a little tighter around the toothpick, but said nothing further.

Iden stepped forward, pointing at the pane at the end of the line of windows. “We believe he used some sort of device to disable the window lock from the outside, although we haven’t been able to determine what yet.”

Tech walked up to the window, adjusting his goggles as he inspected the locks. “This would have required a rather simple apparatus to de-magnetize the locking mechanism and enable the intruder to open the locks. It would not even register as a perimeter breach in the system, so an alarm would never have been triggered.” He turned to look at Iden, who was clearly struggling with the “simple” part of his statement.

“We didn’t really anticipate someone scaling the side of the building. The locking is mainly to keep them closed should there be a concussive explosion near the palace during an attack. The glass is blast-proof.”

Tech said nothing as he contemplated the information for a moment. “And now? Have there been changes to protocols in light of these recent events?”

“We’re working on replacing the locking devices with something more sophisticated,” Iden replied, clearly on her back foot in this exchange and not pleased about it.

“Excellent.”

Echo and Hunter exchanged a look. “So, how did the rest of the incident play out?” the clone sergeant asked.

Just then, the door behind them opened, and Captain Typho entered. “Ah, good. You got started with the inspection.”

“I was just asking for the details on the incident you mentioned,” Hunter repeated.

Typho walked to the bed, turning to face the window. “The queen was asleep but was startled awake by the sound of the window lock disengaging and the window opening. She said she sat up, saw the intruder, got out of bed, and took shelter behind this nightstand.” He let his gloved hand rest on the wooden surface of the nightstand as he stepped through the scenario. Crosshair noted how small the nightstand was. 

She would have had to crouch down very low and hug the wall tightly to hide. Either the assassin is a terrible shot or the queen is incredibly lucky. Perhaps both.

Typho continued. “The queen was able to retrieve her weapon from her nightstand drawer. The intruder got up on the bed, standing over her. At that point, the queen decided to…erm…tackle him.”

“Tackle him?” Echo asked, stunned. Wrecker let out an approving laugh, a smile creeping across his face.

“Yes. She managed to incapacitate him and hang on to her weapon. She attempted to subdue him, but he did not comply, and she was forced to shoot him. He died before he could be interrogated further.” Typho’s eyes rested on a particular spot on the floor, clearly replaying the moment in his head. Crosshair assumed that was where they’d found the assailant, and an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he imagined the scene.

The captain must have been absolutely fraught, walking in on the queen in her nightgown with a dead man underneath her. It was obvious to him that the queen and the captain shared a close relationship, although to what extent, he couldn’t be sure. Close enough to where she’s fine pushing his buttons in front of unfamiliar company, and close enough to where he feels comfortable pushing back against her, however subtly. He flicked the toothpick between his teeth to the other side of his mouth as he pictured the amount of force the queen would have had to hit the assassin with in order to tackle him, much less subdue him. It was hard to imagine the woman they’d met in the throne room doing such a thing, but her being alive was enough of a confirmation of what she could do. A woman capable of that hardly needs a security force, he mused internally.

Hunter was stroking his chin as he considered the scenario. “I understand you’re upping your security system on the windows. What other measures have you taken since the attack?”

“Each rotation schedule is signed off manually now. We no longer rely on the automated systems to generate it, so there should never be another gap to allow someone to penetrate our patrol area. In addition, we’ve doubled patrols for redundancy. We have a team inspecting all of our other security measures to audit any other shortfalls we may have, and any changes we make are being kept confidential among the security force. We would welcome your input on that as well.” Hunter turned to Tech who nodded in agreement.

“And then there’s you. We’d like to have one of you stationed with the queen at all times during the day, and then of course, you’ll be right down the hall at night. We plan on installing a panic alarm on the nightstand here that would allow her to alert you should something occur.”

Hunter bobbed his head in understanding. “Alright. We will work up a guard rotation schedule and supply you with it.”

“That would be most helpful and appreciated.”

Crosshair noted Tech had wandered back to the window and was inspecting the locking mechanisms again. As his brother fiddled with the controls, he watched as the window opened slowly. One thing about the entire exercise caught his attention, sticking in the back of his mind. 

The window unlatched without any sound at all.

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