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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year ago

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Tide pools aren't for swimming [TBB x GN!Reader]

Warnings and Information: Second-person POV. No serious age rating. It's just sun, surf and seashells as far as the eye can see. Undescribed Reader with a codename. Coming from an ocean world, we're assuming Clones are excellent swimmers. Someone loses his trunks, though. Minor usage of Mando'a. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Not a relationship fic. Minor proofreading.

Word-count: 2,650

"If the Marshal Commander discovers you lot have blown off your reports, I'm not saving your shebs!" you warn the men as they tramp down the gangplank in a collective rush once they've all found something among the armor and fatigues that will do for swimwear in a pinch. They've gotten it in their heads that while you're all planetside and near a coastline, the whole team is going to the beach for the rest of the day.

You turn to the only man who's not been carried out of the attack shuttle against his will, since Wrecker only has so many arms and hands. "Except for you, Echo. I trust you'll get your report done for Commander Cody in time, as always."

Echo smirks, chest thrown forward with pride. "As always." he repeats. "Aren't you going to go with them, Vantage?"

You bounce your shoulders, keying in the appropriate sequence to retract the steps and seal the hatch once you and the ARC trooper make your exit. "Oh, eventually," you say with a laugh. It's a small white-sand beach surrounded by cliffs. "They can't exactly get far, save for one direction." You made it clear to your squadmates from the jump that you did not wish to go swimming, and laid out your reasons in no uncertain terms.

"Maker forbid one of you begins to drown, however, I will come to your rescue. But if one of you tries to get cute and throw me into the surf, I will give you a tongue-lashing that will leave your ears ringing until next Taungsday. Do I make myself clear?"

"That'd put us at a real Disadvantage…"

"Hunter, for kriff's sake-" You had warned him with an edge in your voice that suggested it would not be wise to test your sense of humor by making playful riffs on your alias. They were all smart enough to take the hint supplied by means of a jabbing elbow from the one with goggles and an ever-recording camera attached to them. "Yes, you made yourself clear, Vantage!" Hunter replied hurriedly.

Maker, these boys behaved like a fraternity straight out of your academy, some days… You did not sign up for that program offered by the academic institution with the intention to be a karking glorified babysitter. Thankfully, they had the sense to perform their duty to the GAR with loyalty and a strong, if improvised, sense for getting the job done.

They were troublemakers, no doubt about it. But galaxy and all her stars, they were your troublemakers. The Marshal Commander has gotten close to reassigning you a few times, but you've stood firm.

"This is as far as I go!" you reply to Wrecker in yet another reminder that you are not wading up to your waist in frigid sea water just to see if the waves can bowl you over. "I'm not fond of swimming where I cannot confidently make out the bottom. You have fun out there, I'm staying here." You twist and grind your heels in the over-saturated sand in a stubborn display. You are not moving. The waves lapping over your ankles is truly as far as you will venture out into the briney deep.

You've seen these men swim before and have the utmost confidence in their ability to navigate the surf. These waves are gentle in comparison to the towering walls of water they've seen from rain-spattered windows looking out of the stilted cloning facility. But it's been drilled into you since you were young that someone needs to watch the water at all times, to never leave someone swimming unattended. The beach offers a decent outcropping in one of the cliffs to serve as a guard tower, almost.

"Pardon the play on your name, Vantage, but that outcropping would serve as a, well, excellent vantage point of the ocean." Tech explains a little timidly. "The rock shelf appears stable enough to support even Wrecker."

"Hey!"

Ignoring Wrecker's offended burst of dismay for a moment, you nod gratefully at Tech. "I wondered. Thank you. But I think I'll have to split my time with Crosshair since our sniper likes to feel tall."

"Ahem…" Crosshair begins in a low, throaty tone, "might I remind you that I'm 1.93 meters tall, compared to Hunter's measly 1.8."

Hunter scoffs, unphased. He's curiously shorter than all, or perhaps most, Clones, but he's never let on that the short jokes bother him in the time you've traveled with them. "Just for that, you're the one who gets to hold Wrecker's hand when he takes his turn on the outcrop."

"HEY!!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and plant a hand on one hip with a deep, wearied sigh. You can hear Echo chuckling further up the beach, saying you look exactly like a disappointed nat-born parent from a holodrama right about now from where he's sitting. You certainly believe him.

Off to northeast on this little beach a few hours later, Wrecker makes a discovery while he takes a break from the waves. The water is cold, so he's soaking up some sun to warm himself. You, on the other hand, are suffering from the opposite problem as it is currently the estimated temperature high of the day. You're half tempted to let Wrecker playfully throw you into the surf as the next wave comes rolling in for a little reprieve, like he's done for Hunter and Crosshair (and Tech, but only once when he got too close).

But not tempted enough to voice that idea. Maybe you'll go back to the waterline and soak your feet in a moment.

Wrecker makes a request for your attention. "Vantage, look!" You lift your craned neck to meet his eyes upon further beckoning bellows. "These little pits are filled with water, and you can see the bottom! You could come cool off in one of these!" The sun directly overhead, Wrecker uses his large hands to shade his eyes and most of his face rather than amplify his voice so he can squint further up the beach with less discomfort.

"What pits?" Crosshair demands, doing a worse job of masking his confusion than you.

Wrecker points emphatically, spirit hardly dampered by the annoyance his brother levies his way. "These pit-things!"

You decide to see what the fuss is about. Tech trekked back into the Havoc Marauder to relieve himself and no doubt send his report to Cody, so he can't get to the bottom of what Wrecker's discovered for the foreseeable future. While he's far from stupid, Wrecker has a minor form of aphasia as a result of the accident that gave him the scrawling scar and cybernetic eye on the left side of his head. In your time working with them, you find Wrecker has trouble finding the right words to express himself in moments of extreme excitement or exhaustion, on occasion.

You skip across the sand, halfway through your question when you find a delightful surprise. "What's thes- Oh, tide pools!" you exclaim. "Hey, boys! Wrecker found some tide pools over here!" These are indeed shallow enough that you can see the silty surface of the bottom, but with one glance into the tidal pool, you can pinpoint at least three delicate forms of aquatic life.

Admittedly, the only reason you know such a thing is in thanks to either a friend or a family member of yours, though you don't recall who off the top of your head.

Once Tech's joined the ranks around the oceanic pocket, he's excitedly prattling on in his amazement. "Incredible, those are some beautiful sea star specimens!" Crosshair sarcastically remarks he's peeled more interesting things in similar colors from the bottom of his boots, but Tech pays him no mind. "Juveniles, no less! This stage of their life cycle is seldomly documented, so this is an incredible opportunity for scientific contribution."

"Which means we shouldn't swim in these tide pools, Wrecker," you explain delicately; you hate to deflate his sense of excitement, "leaving them undisturbed will give our starry friends the best chance to develop into healthy, strong adults. Besides, there's a species of red sea urchin at the bottom, if you look right there, that you don't exactly want to get close enough to risk stepping on them. Take my word for it when I say it stings like a mother-kriffer. Not even good bacta can touch the pain, for the most part."

You're given a very fascinated look by the bespectacled Clone of the rogue squadron, having surprised him with an instance of your "quiet intelligence". Tech looks like a gulping fish as he tries to find the right words to express his sentiment, and you can't help but laugh. "Tech, take your time to think of your words before one of your brothers mistakes you for a fish and throws you back in the waves again."

He adjusts his goggles in the meantime. "I was unaware you - at least seem to - know so much about these things." It comes across like an insult, or a backhanded compliment, but you know better than that. These are your troublemakers when they're not in Commander Cody's capable hands. You've gotten to know them well, and you take no offense. You only offer a cheeky grin.

"Heh. Someone I know from back home knows their stuff. I've heard a lot about tide pools in my life."

A look of understanding dawns on him. "I see. Well, yes, you are right, Vantage. Tempting as it is, it will be best not to swim in these tidal pools. Or, perhaps not this one. Maybe one of the others will have less developmentally fragile sealife."

Luck is not in your favor on this fine afternoon, as it would happen. Most of these 'pocket-sized oceans' teem with young and larval lifeforms that call the ocean home. They seem to serve as saltwater nurseries. Tiny crabs. Delicate polyps. Even beautiful, silky jellyfish have made themselves home in some of the deepest pools (mercifully, these do not have the capacity for the excruciating sting of other species).

"That's disgusting," you groan, shaking your head at one of the men clad in nothing but a pair of crudely-cut swim shorts that were fashioned from a spare pair of their casual fatigues, "peeing on your brother's leg like a kriffing massiff won't help a jellyfish sting! Where in the galaxy did you hear such a thing?"

"Kamino." Crosshair tells you with a face that would put professional Sabacc players to shame.

"Of course you did. That's on me, I should have remembered that you were all created on Kamino, a damn ocean world. Did someone tell you that as a cadet?"

"You want an answer to that, Vantage?"

You need to quit while you're ahead before you find yourself subjected to more potentially juvenile behavior. "Not particularly, no." You dust off your knees after kneeling over the edge of this particular tide pool, mentally wishing the little jellyfish good-bye. Wrecker's idea of taking a quick dip in a tidal pool hadn't been a bad one, but you weren't counting on Tech finding any 'vacant' enough for a dip to cool off by this point. "I'm gonna go sit in the shade for a bit. Echo, scoot over!"

He scowls, playfully calling back that you need to find your own palm tree to plop under, while making room for you all the same. From here, you can watch Crosshair and Hunter wrestle and grapple with one another in the tide, and keep your eye on Wrecker as he tries to float on his back a little further out. Tech remains on the beach, babbling to himself as he inspects each of these tide pools in depth.

"We're going to be hearing about sea stars for hours… aren't we?" Echo mutters, but there's a warm and gentle smile that contrasts the weariness of his tone, "Which is going to drive them nuts while they try to rush their reports to Commander Cody."

"Don't worry," you tell him, "I can keep him occupied in the cockpit while you make sure the other three get their reports sorted out."

"Gotta say, having you on the team is a real advantage sometimes."

There's commotion down in the water that interrupts your train of thought about asking Echo if he's making fun of your codename, and you fear the worst. Drowning is a silent affair, and two of his brothers are suddenly shouting Hunter's name with mild concern. You kept your eyes off the water for too long, you shouldn't have assumed that the three out in the water could keep an adequate eye on each other. You don't see the curled brown hair and the slip of crimson fabric that serves as a bandana among the three bronze-skinned figures who were playing in the surf.

Wrecker and Crosshair do not seem all that panicked, to your fear and your fury. "Where's Hunter?!"

He surfaces soon after, but he curiously does not stand fully upright in the water. You soon know why when someone's swim trunks find themselves washed ashore with the next wave.

"Oh, there they are. Here, toss them out to me, Vantage!" Hunter does not seem the least bit embarrassed that he's gone from clad in nothing but a pair of swim trunks to clad in nothing at all after a particularly strong wave must have tugged them free from his hips.

You staunchly refuse to touch the trunks, pointedly turning around to avoid getting an eyeful of anything below the belt as Hunter drags himself out of the waves. "Get them yourself, Hunter! Oh Maker, I'm going back to the Marauder. I've had enough."

"Nice going, Hunter." Cross says, slugging his shoulder. "You scared Vantage away."

"I promise I tied them; not like I did that on purpose." You can almost hear the bounce of his shoulders in Hunter's voice as he brushes off the accusation. "C'mon, Van!" Wrecker calls to you from the water. "Don't leave!" He's stopped by both Cross and Hunter from exiting the ocean and chasing you up the beach, warning him that if you're not already in no mood for further oisk right now, you certainly will be if he tries to stop you while he's soaking wet with sea water.

"I'm going to the ship to get towels for everyone," you tell Echo as you trudge further up the beach, glancing at the chrono on your wrist. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I'm gonna see if I can't convince Commander Cody to extend the deadline by another day…"

Echo gives you an understanding bob of his head despite the expression of confusion. "How come?"

"Oh, I don't know…" you sigh wistfully as you turn back and look at the water, where to your surprise, Tech has been roped into a game of water-chicken and is now perching himself on Crosshair's shoulders to wrestle with Hunter atop Wrecker's, "something tells me those reports won't get done tonight. They're having too much fun. You should too, Echo."

He shrugs, looking uncertain. "Don't know that seawater would be good for my cybernetics. Sand is one thing, I have plenty of practice cleaning that out." You offer to ask the Marshal Commander for answers as you put in the request for an extension. You're certain he can get in touch with Captain Rex or General Skywalker to outsource an answer for you since you don't have their comm frequencies. "Thanks, Vantage. Still not gonna go swimming yourself, though?"

Echo's given a smile and shrug. "Oh… I might change my mind and at least venture out a little further." You start making your way back to the heavily modified Omicron-class shuttle with a smirk tugging your lips into place to compliment your mischievous tone. "But no promises."

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